Minecraft: Wimpy Villager: Book 5 (An unofficial Minecraft book) (Diary of a Wimpy Villager)

by Cube Kid

  There was no way I was going to tell him I was building a room for mob spawning, so I had to come up with an excuse. A lie, in other words.

  "I'm building a mushroom farm, dad. It's for a school project."

  He glanced at the structure, shrugged, even smiled.

  "A mushroom farm, eh? That's my boy! Make sure to put slabs on the floor so mobs don't spawn."

  "You bet."

  He nodded. "I'll let you get back to it, then."

  After he walked off, I felt a little sad.

  First, I just lied to my dad . . .

  Second, I remembered, I'm gonna have to tell him my dreams about becoming a warrior.

  He'll be crushed.

  I know.

  But it's for the greater good. All the farms in Minecraftia won't do us any good when the mobs finally figure out how to break the wall and an army of zombies comes pouring in.

  And we can't expect old man Urf to fend off the hordes with his stick.

  Us students, the young generation, we're the only hope this village has.

  Steve wants real mobs, so we'll get real mobs.

  I sealed the monster box up as soon as my dad was out of sight.

  Then I put a sign next to it.

  Hopefully, no one will mess with it.

  It's kinda scary knowing mobs might spawn right next to my bedroom, while I'm sleeping, just a few blocks away.

  Actually, knowing my luck, maybe nothing will spawn at all?

  For now, I'll just wait and see what happens.

  I should probably talk to Steve and Mike about this, but after thinking, I decided against it.

  It'll be a little surprise.

  In the words of the Cow . . .

  Tee hee.

  THURSDAY

  Nothing spawned in the monster box last night.

  I'll just keep waiting.

  So, I'm the second highest level student at school.

  Even if my actions and failures come with a few laughs, I'm no longer 'noob status', but 'not bad', 'pretty cool', or even 'that furnace house kid' or 'green egg kid'.

  All that really means, though, is that kids ask me more questions, ask me to help them with their homework.

  At this rate, I'll soon overtake Max.

  He can sense it, I think. That must be why he's been bullying me more, calling me more names, and just being more annoying in general.

  Later, he kept showing off his record book in class.

  He angled it in my direction so I could see it. Gave me a big wink.

  Trading and building are pretty much the only areas I beat him in.

  I guess he just wanted me to know, he's number one, and it's always gonna be that way.

  In Brewing class, a boy named Rock asked Max if he could help him with his homework. Max glanced him, then at me, and said: "I don't know. I'm pretty busy these days."

  Then Max whipped out his record book—real slow, so everyone could see.

  How many times is he going to show off his scores?

  "I need to work on my combat score," Max said. "It's so low."

  The truth is, Max's combat score is the highest out of all 150 students.

  He was just bragging.

  Then our Brewing teacher told us there was an extra Brewing class today, after school. Attendance wasn't required, but anyone wanting some additional practice with potions could come.

  Max whipped out his record book AGAIN—and again, really slow . . .

  He had to work on his mining, he said quite loudly, because it just wasn't high enough.

  The only student with a higher mining score than Max is Pebble, and that's because Pebble comes from a family of miners.

  Okay, Max. We get it. You're the best.

  So annoying.

  During Combat class, Max approached me.

  "Y'know," he said to me, "I don't know how those teachers found out about that pickaxe. Do you know how many emeralds I spent on that thing?"

  "Go away," I said.

  "As you wish, Headnanny Runt. I'll just go sweep the floors and you can inspect them later and tell me how I'm doing."

  Headnanny? I'll show you Headnanny, I thought.

  I practiced as hard as I could; swung my sword with all the strength I had.

  My practice dummy shook from the repeated blows.

  Then I glared at Max.

  Max thrashed his own dummy, and returned the dirty look.

  I couldn't see his eyes, because of his glasses, but his eyebrows were furrowed. He must have been angry.

  We kept chopping at our dummies and glaring at each other for a while.

  I remembered all the times he bullied me, all the things he said—Headnanny, noob, the thing with my cat, him sabotaging me during the Mining test—and my anger just exploded.

  With a huge leap, I dived at my dummy, trying to perform another critical strike.

  This time, I didn't forget to swing my sword.

  I hit with such force, the dummy was nearly knocked over.

  One of its arms flew off, as did its head.

  I gave him another angry glare.

  Steve clapped nearby.

  "Nice job, Runt! I saw that! Your first critical hit, huh?"

  After class, I found my score went up.

  Max was looking at his own record book, shocked.

  His combat score had only risen 2 points—from 17 to 19.

  My score was now higher than his.

  I showed him my record book.

  "Maybe you can teach me a thing or two about fighting, after class," I said. "My combat score is so low."

  He gasped.

  "Hurrrrrrrrrrr!"

  I walked off before he could say anything more.

  FRIDAY

  This morning was kind of weird.

  Max wasn't in class today.

  It was the first time he didn't show up at school.

  I began to wonder if what I did yesterday really hurt his feelings or something.

  Then after school, as I was walking home, I ran into him in the street.

  "Leave me alone," I said, and walked past him.

  "Hey," he said, "just listen, huh?"

  "Listen to what? Headnanny? Noobmaster? Fluffles the Danger Kitty? Or maybe you're going to tell me more about poo screamers."

  Almost before I finished my sentence, he stepped closer with a serious face and said:

  "I was suspended from school today."

  For a second, my brain couldn't process what had just been said.

  Suspended.

  Max had been suspended from school?

  As in, he was no longer a student?

  "Only for a day," he said. "Today."

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "Someone ratted me out," he said. "Pebble. That miner kid. I bought that pickaxe from his dad, you see. So his dad came to school and told the teachers I was the one who bought it."

  "I don't get it," I said.

  "My only guess is, I must have made him angry when I was showing off my scores the other day."

  "Still," I said, "why would Pebble do that? I thought you guys were kinda friendly?"

  Max removed his glasses. His dark eyes seemed even darker today.

  "You really don't get it, do you?"

  I blinked.

  "Get what?"

  "You and I," he said, "we're the top dogs. Everyone wants to take us down.

  Another blink.

  Max put his glasses back on. "When you went nuts in that Trading test," he said, "and got a perfect score, what do you think happened?"

  "Um, my level increased?"

  "Yeah, and so now you're the second highest level student, right?"

  "Right?"

  "And that means Pebble, who was originally the second highest, is now the third. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what that means."

  "Try anyway," I said.

  "It means I'm no longer the one you have to worry about, Runt. You've made a lot of enemies, buddy boy."

  Enem
ies . . .

  What Max was saying suddenly became so clear.

  At least twenty students, as far as I know, want to become a warrior. Probably more than that. I'm not very social and don't talk to a lot of people.

  The problem is, only five can become warriors. That was what the elders said. The top five students this year can choose warrior as their profession.

  That means, at least twenty students are fighting for that honor.

  "Some of the kids are real jealous of you," Max said. "You've drawn a lot of attention to yourself, doing so well in those tests. In fact, I might have done you a favor by preventing you from getting first place in that Mining test."

  I tried not to get angry when he said this.

  "Explain."

  Max nodded.

  "I overheard Pebble talking with some of his friends the other day," he said. "They were talking about you."

  "And what did they say?"

  "They said you're a noob. Said you have no business being a warrior. Said you becoming a warrior will endanger this village. Pebble even said he's gonna do anything he can to prevent you from becoming one."

  "This is crazy," I said.

  "It gets worse," Max said. "Pebble said . . . his father is gonna do something during the next mining test. Something about a cave-in. They're gonna try to hurt you, Runt . . . or worse. Now, I know, I've pulled a lot of pranks on you. But I've never done something like that."

  "I can't believe this."

  "Me too." Max sighed. "You know, the kids who graduate in the top five . . . they'll not only become warriors. They'll have the option of becoming elders later, too. A lot of families here realize this. It's a power struggle. They're thinking about the future."

  "Why tell me all of this?" I asked.

  "Well, it's like this. If those other kids hate you so much, how do you think they feel about me? Maybe they're planning to hurt me, too. A cave-in accident, who would know? I don't exactly like you, Runt, but I respect you. You've got skill. And I think, for the good of this village, you need to become a warrior. I say we form a partnership. Work together. You, Stump and I. It's us against them."

  I didn't know what to say.

  After all we've been through, and now Max wants to team up?

  "What about Razberry?" I asked.

  Max shook his head.

  "Nah. I've already talked to him about this. He's not concerned about his scores. His dream is being a baker, not a warrior."

  "Hurrrrm. Well, I'll think about it," I said, which was a lie. There was no way I was forming a partnership with Max. At least not until he proved that he could be trusted. And apologized a billion times.

  And anyway, I didn't know for sure if what Max was telling me was true.

  Maybe it was just another one of his tricks?

  SATURDAY

  This morning, I met up with Stump and went for a walk.

  I told Stump everything that Max had said.

  While we were walking through the streets, we kept hearing adults talking about the 'tree':

  "Did you see the tree?"

  "Wow, it's so big!"

  "A dark oak, eh?"

  "It wasn't there last night!"

  I glanced at Stump, who just shrugged. Neither of us knew anything about this 'tree'.

  So, we walked up to Leaf, that old blacksmith, and asked him about it.

  "Some kinda tree growin' in the east," he said. "Real big feller, too. Go see fer yerselves!"

  Of course, upon hearing such interesting news, Stump and I zoomed across the city and climbed up the east wall.

  We were expecting the kind of giant tree found in fairy tales and story books.

  But from the east wall, it looked more like a sapling.

  There haven't been many monster attacks these days, so I guess the adults have been bored, and a dark oak tree growing in the distance is 'big news'.

  It's not even that strange that a big tree like that is growing there. There's a forest of them to the east. Probably the forest is just expanding.

  Forests do that, don't they?

  Whatever.

  All day today, I couldn't stop thinking about what Max said yesterday.

  Are the other kids really so jealous of me?

  Stump's the seventh highest student as far as level goes—are they jealous of him, too?

  "Even if Max is joking with you," Stump said, "he's right, you know?"

  "Right? Right about what?"

  "You've out-leveled almost everyone," he said, "but you shouldn't get too confident. Things always change, and . . . when you feel too sure about yourself, you get careless, and make mistakes."

  Hmm.

  Stump's got a point there.

  But then, me feeling too confident? I doubt that will ever happen. Even when I'm doing my best, I still doubt myself . . .

  In other news, nothing has spawned in the monster box.

  No sounds have come from it, at least.

  It's just an empty room sitting on the side of our house.

  I opened the room back up and put a mushroom in there just in case my dad decides to check.

  If he saw that there weren't any mushrooms in there, he might get suspicious.

  Later, Stump, Sara and I got ice cream again.

  Sara forced me to try Creeper Crunch.

  Yuck.

  It was really bad.

  Not just really bad, but 'I'd-rather-eat-mushroom-stew-with-apple-chunks' bad.

  If you're ever in Minecraftia, and get ice cream, I suggest either Ghast Tear Swirl or Diamond Ore Chunk.

  SUNDAY

  I told my dad about my dreams.

  As I expected, he was crushed. Actually, he didn't believe me.

  Later, I overheard him talking to my mom. They think I'm just going through a phase. They think I really want to be a farmer, because I made that 'mushroom farm'.

  If only they knew the truth . . .

  In the evening, I went over to Steve's house.

  Steve and Mike have been building their own houses in their free time. They live close to the wall, on the edge of the village.

  Steve's house is on the left.

  Mike's house looks more like a small castle than a house. And what are those weird face-looking things in the walls? I decided to check Mike's house out later, after I visited Steve.

  Steve's house was pretty basic.

  After I said hello to Steve, I had to find out where that ladder went to.

  "Hey!" Steve said. "Where are you going?!"

  I zoomed down the ladder, my curiosity getting the best of me.

  It was an underground tunnel.

  Steve's house and Mike's house are linked by this tunnel.

  Steve explained it all to me after he climbed down the ladder.

  If mobs ever overran one house, then they could retreat to the other house through this tunnel.

  A pretty cool idea—villagers never did that.

  Next, I checked out Mike's house.

  It had an iron door, just like Steve's.

  But I still had no idea what those things in the walls were.

  Mike wiped his brow after I stepped in.

  He was hunched over a furnace, smelting some ore.

  "Hey, Runt. What's up?"

  "Nothing. I just wanna check out your house, is that cool?"

  "Sure."

  The door in the back led to the tunnel connecting to Steve's house.

  But I was more interested in the ladder going up.

  Did it have something to do with those faces in the walls?

  I started climbing the ladder.

  Strangely, there was a kind of attic.

  It wasn't big enough for a person to stand up in.

  Those things in the walls were also visible.

  Red powdery trails went to each of them. That was redstone, right?

  There was a pressure plate on top of his house.

  I of course wondered what it did, exactly. So I walked towards it . . .

&nb
sp; I heard Mike call out from down below:

  "Hey! Don't stop on that——"

  But it was too late.

  Click.

  Mike climbed up after me and sighed.

  " . . . pressure plate."

  Lava poured out everywhere, burning the grass.

  He stepped on the pressure plate again, and the lava stopped flowing.

  "Sorry," I said with a pained look.

  Mike approached the edge of his house and looked down. Then he glanced back at me.

  "You owe me a new sign."

  Steve and Mike didn't talk much when I went to visit them.

  And soon after I arrived, they said they had to go meet with the mayor again.

  "Great," I said, "I hope he has more cookies."

  Steve shook his head.

  "Sorry, Runt. The mayor said only we can go."

  Mike nodded. "It's nothing important, anyway. We're just going to instruct the builders on how to upgrade defenses. Stuff like that lava fountain."

  They took off, and I headed back home.

  Things were so quiet, these days.

  So boring.

  No new mob attacks. No mention of Herobrine.

  Yet, the mayor, Steve, Mike, the elders—whenever I saw them, they all looked so serious.

  It was like the calm before the storm.

  Something was going on.

  But hey, they didn't want me to be a part of it, so whatever.

  I didn't feel like training anymore, though. I'm burned out. So I went back home and read more books.

  MONDAY

  I was back at it again.

  I had two combat classes today, and the whole time, I was ducking, tumbling, leaping and swinging away.