So now I was going to do what Mirror World old-timers called mob farming: smoking monsters till the cows came home, earning loot and XP in the process.
The island's inhabitants couldn't really pass for monsters but they didn't look like cute little bunnies either. The location's bestiary classified Short-Tailed Carapaceons (which was the local beasties' moniker) as passive aggressive. In other words, they wouldn't attack you first but wouldn't suffer any BS from you, either.
They looked like regular crabs the size of an RV tire. Those higher in levels were bigger but they were as yet out of my league. Level 5 looked good for a start.
"One little crab by the sea so blue,
Along came another crab, and that made two," I sang.
Both Boris and Prankster gave me a funny look, their eyes pleading with me: so these are the adventures you promised us? Smoking stinking crabs?
"Absolutely, guys. What did you expect?"
Naturally, they didn't mean any of it. This was only my overwrought psyche playing tricks on me. The Reflex Bank building hung over my head like a proverbial sword of Damocles suspended on a horse hair. Which was about to snap.
Very soon I'd have to make my first payment. Christie's new heart had only started growing. And I had no idea if her little body would reject it or not. On top of which, I'd managed to attract the attention of the most powerful clan in Mirror World. Enough to drive you mad. Which might have already happened had it not been for Sveta's constant support.
As if sensing my state of mind, Prankster vaulted onto my shoulder in three long leaps and poked my cheek with his moist nose.
"It's all right, kiddo," I said. "I'm fine. Right! Time is money, whoever said that. Are you ready? Of course you are. Let's begin!"
We found the first crab a mere couple of feet from our landing site. I took it for a boulder covered in algae and all sorts of flotsam. Had it not been for the system message, I might have walked right past.
The crab sat there motionless, his large pincers stretched outward.
I froze a few feet away from it and told Boris to get ready. I forbade Prankster to get involved. Much better that he simply pranced around nearby, giving me an occasional heal in case the crab did get to my fragile cartoon body.
Wait! How could I have forgotten! I was a noob, really.
I hurried to reopen the system message and scrolled through, looking for the advice to make the third island my new resurrection point. I swiped Confirm. Now if I did manage to get myself killed, I'd resurrect right here on the island and not at the center of the wretched village I'd so promptly vacated.
"Phew! Let's get started!"
The crab snapped its pincers shut as if sensing trouble. Like, come and get me if you can.
I took another step and loaded my slingshot, casting a sideways glance at Boris. His powerful shoulder muscles pumped up.
In the meantime, Prankster leaped onto the largest boulder he could find and froze on top of it like a meerkat.
Actually, this was our first fight together. I didn't count our little air raid on the Swamp Monks. That had been different.
"On my first shot!"
I drew back the sling with an already-practiced hand.
With a powerful pop, my first pebble rocketed off.
You've attacked a level 5 Short-Tailed Carapaceon!
You've dealt a critical hit!
Damage dealt: 150
You've killed a level 5 Short-Tailed Carapaceon!
I lowered the slingshot and watched, puzzled, as the still-uncomprehending crab disappeared into thin air. "Wait a sec. Is that it?"
I checked the logs. That's right. I'd killed him.
How about XP?
Oh. The green XP bar hadn't budged one bit. He'd left nothing behind, either. Zero loot.
So forum gurus had been right after all. Based on my gear, the system determined my level as 15 to 18. The crab was level 5. The only loot I could hope for was some quest item — provided I accepted the quest it came with. Quite logical, really, but it had been worth the try.
"Right guys, I think it's time for me to change into something more humble."
Regrettably I shoved my Reflection kit into my bag. I only kept the boots, the hat and the gloves. No one would make me run over the rocks barefoot. The starting pants and shirt glowed a miserable 1. Oh well. I probably looked like a card loser walking back home in the morning.
My stats plummeted. I sensed the long-forgotten pressure on my shoulders. One quickly gets used to the good things in life.
Now the system should recognize me as level 5 or 6. In theory, such a forced drop might suffice.
Let's see if it worked, then.
I caught sight of the back of another crab about fifteen feet away.
Boris was chomping at the bit, impatient to join in the combat. He was all shivery. Or was it his Mirror Soul reflecting my state of mind?
"Okay," I nodded. "You attack him first. Just be careful."
He darted off as if he'd been expecting this command all his life. In two long leaps and a wingbeat, he soared a good thirty feet into the sky and swooped down like a black shadow, dropping on top of the unsuspecting crab.
I blinked away the flood of system messages that followed and drew the sling. It had grown considerably tighter.
Whack!
The pebble hit the mob at the exact moment when Boris sank his beak into his back.
You've killed a level 5 Short-Tailed Carapaceon!
My XP bar jumped considerably. Interestingly, I got all the damage dealt by Boris and was rewarded with plenty of XP. My pets got their share: both had grown quite a bit. Which was very good news.
I also received some loot: an Eye and a Pincer of an Short-Tailed Carapaceon.
"Congratulations, guys! Great start!" I said to my beasties.
The dawn was already breaking when the system finally bestowed level 5 on me, awarding me with 5 bonus points.
Admittedly, after the first fifteen fights I'd felt pretty much at home with this combat thing. And during the thirtieth, I'd ignored the promise I'd made to myself earlier and removed all of my Digger gear. This sacrifice had resulted in a considerable XP increase. Initially it had made me feel vulnerable but I'd soon forgotten all about it in the heat of the fight.
Not that there was any serious danger to me, really. Boris was doing all the work. As the group's tank, he took all the opposition's hits upon himself. If the truth were known, he dealt the most damage, too. I couldn't do much fighting, not in those tattered pants and shirt so I mainly finished them off.
An hour later I had grown so comfortable I even allowed Prankster to participate. Surprisingly, his seemingly harmless bites considerably sped up the farming process.
And as for the loot... I had enough to start a crab stick factory.
Eyes, pincers, shells and even flesh — I might actually follow some forum members' advice and auction it all. These were useful resources, especially for cooks, alchemists and sorcerers. And not only them: there were tons of professions in Mirror World.
Besides, much to my joy, I'd managed to earn myself a steel ring and a bronze bracelet. The former gave +2 to Health and the latter, +1 to Protection. Neither had any restrictions to race or level, allowing me to appropriate both. My appearance of an inebriated card player began to morph into a shaggy Gypsy look: all I needed was an earring and a gold chain.
Now I was sitting on a rock taking a break from my martial exploits while considering how best to distribute the available 5 points. It might not sound like much, but if you think about it, you could do a lot with them. Only what would be the best way to invest them? Life and Defense were my weakest links, that's for sure. But then there was also Intellect...
Actually, it was a good job I remembered.
The yellow Knowledge bar was full to the brim: 40/40. That was interesting. What was I supposed to do with it now?
The XP bar was pretty much clear: 100% equaled a new level. The Energy to Li
fe ratio wasn't brain surgery, either. But this Knowledge thing remained a dark horse.
I had a funny feeling that a rise in Intellect caused the Knowledge bar to grow. Which meant that it too depended on my participation in combat just like XP did.
What did that ensue?
Nothing really. I could make neither head nor tail of it. Having said that... Hadn't a certain system message mentioned Knowledge?
Yes! I knew it!
I pulled A Pocket Book of Blueprints and Bind Lines out of my bag. Hadn't the system given me the cold shoulder when I'd tried to open it?
I got my answer!
The book's front page wasn't dimmed anymore. There was a drawing at its center which looked suspiciously like a blueprint of something or other. Or rather, a draft, drawn with either a lump of charcoal or a very blunt black pencil. Unfinished as it was, I could still make out the outline of a large hammer inside some sort of dome.
As I took a closer look I realized the drawing could have been better. Even I with my zero experience in arts could see that.
A short caption under the drawing confirmed my suspicions. I smiled. I was actually right.
Name: A Blueprint of A Safety Bind Line I
Access requirements:
Knowledge, 40 pt.
Level, 5
Would you like to study the blueprint?
I clicked Accept.
Congratulations! You've studied a Blueprint: Safety Bind Line I
Having bestowed yet another Achievement upon me, the system then emptied my Knowledge bar entirely. Aha. I seemed to detect a pattern here.
Also, a small footnote appeared at the bottom of the sheet.
Name: Safety Bind Line I.
Description: Invented by Master Brolgerd during the First Underground War. Adds +10 to Durability when installed on weapons or ammunition.
In order to install the Bind Line, you will need:
A Sharpthorn
A Wambler
Warning! Building a Bind Line will deprive you of 50 pt. Energy!
Warning! The item's level cannot exceed that of the master installing the Bind Line!
Would you like to install the Bind Line: Yes/No
I glanced at the clock. That was okay. I still had time till logout.
I cast a look around and made myself comfortable on my rock. Let's try it.
Weapons and ammunition, they said? Very well. Let's start with the pebbles, then. This large speckled one would do nicely.
I clicked Yes.
I really hadn't expected what happened next. It was as if an invisible puppeteer had taken over me. The sensation was very similar to being controlled by the bot back in the mines.
I didn't try to resist. I was curious.
My left hand dug into my bag. My fingers closed over a square object. It felt like leather. I had a funny feeling I knew what it was.
That's right. The Standard Tool Kit complete with its mysterious contents.
Without letting go of the pebble, my right hand joined in the process. It reached inside the kit for the wambler, then transferred the pebble into my left hand.
The fingers of my right hand deftly secured the pebble in the tool as if in a vice. It felt as if I'd been doing it my entire life. Now the pebble was unmoving but could still turn on its axis like a mini globe.
Next. My left hand pulled the sharpthorn out of its pouch and inserted it into a small hole in the wambler's frame.
My hands froze momentarily while the system inquired if I indeed had 50 pt. Energy to spare. I confirmed. That was nothing for me now. I had more Energy than I could ever hope to spend.
A soft blue light enveloped the weird contraption my hands had just made. The pebble began to revolve. The sharpthorn sprang into motion simultaneously, like a curve plotter, covering the pebble's surface with a fancy weave of flourishes. Aha. So that's what it was then, this Bind Line. Those Ennans had some very weird engineers.
In a brief flash of energy, the pebble completed one last rotation and stopped. My hands came back to life, replacing the tools in their respective compartments.
All done. The pebble lay in the palm of my hand, covered in a rather simple decorative pattern.
Its shape had changed, too. Apparently, the installation had somehow made it more rounded. Then again, it could be an optical illusion. The pattern simply made the pebble appear more regular.
Congratulations! You've received Achievement: The Stronger The Better.
Reward: +5 to Knowledge.
Current Knowledge: 5/40
And what about the item's stats?
Name: a Beach Pebble
Durability: 10
Warning! Every successful hit will now decrease the item's Durability 1 pt.
I reread the message and scratched my head. If I understood it correctly, I could now shoot this normally single-use rock ten times?
I hurried to my feet and cast a look around. No points for guessing if I could check it out straight away. Say, on that crab over there sidewinding itself toward the water edge.
My new projectile lay snugly in the sling pouch. It didn't look as if the slingshot itself had improved much. The elastic stretched with an unusual ease. Which was no wonder really, not after my birthday suit hunting session.
I took aim and let go of the pouch. The sling popped as it released.
Got him! Dead as a dodo.
I hurried over to the water's edge, jittery with impatience. The moment of truth.
It looked as if it had worked. The crab's body lay motionless.
Yess! My new slug was still there! Its Durability was 1 pt. less, just as the system had promised. Excellent. And most importantly, it solved so many problems.
With a sigh, I slumped back onto the rock. "It looks like I might stay here for another hour," I mumbled as I reached into my pocket for the first bead.
Chapter Seven
Congratulations! You've received a new level!
Current level: 12
Reward: +1 to Knowledge
Current Knowledge: 51/60
"That's it," I told my two furry sidekicks. "We're done here."
It was true. We'd spent three days on Crab Island as I'd christened it. As far as I was concerned, I could have stayed here forever.
Why not? Mobs were good. The location was decent — and most importantly, quiet. Loot wasn't up to much, true. But that was only a question of time.
I shouldn’t complain, anyway. I had enough rings and bracelets to open a jewelry store. Crab meat was nothing to sniff at, either. I had my doubts it would fetch me much at auction but as they say, a penny saved is a penny gained.
What a shame they didn't have better mobs. Level 10 wasn't good enough for me anymore. I'd even thought I might need to go somewhere else to make level 12, so slowly had the XP bar moved in the end. The amount of loot had dropped, too, despite the fact that I'd stripped down to my pants.
Admittedly, I'd come to like this farming thing, especially when combat tactics had already been choreographed to perfection. It felt almost as quiet and peaceful as working down the mine.
Other players might have found it too boring but it suited me just fine. You did your quota and logged out. Back to real life, to your real-life family.
Last night when I'd made level 10, I'd finally decided to distribute the available points between Health and Protection. I'd also invested 1 pt. into Intellect and left one free for a rainy day.
I'm gonna tell you why. Once my Knowledge bar had filled up to 40, I reopened the Pocket Book of Blueprints, expecting to see something new. As if! Its pages remained dimmed.
I brought Knowledge up to 50, but it didn't help, either. As if being bloody-minded, the system had kept denying me access to new blueprints.
Today I'd added another point to Intellect and was now waiting for the Knowledge bar to reach 60. I just might receive something new and useful for all the trouble.
Never mind. Time to go back to the village. I had to see the Sarge. O
ur last meeting and my last quest: arguably the most complex and important in this entire location.
Sensing the change in my mood, Boris was already hovering by my side. Last night both he and Prankster had made level 10, to my unbridled joy. My little menagerie was growing strong!
"That's it, kiddo," I said, giving him a hearty slap on the back. "Time to say goodbye to Crab Island. Prankie!"
The little black Grison was already here. He leapt onto Boris' neck and stared at me impatiently, as in, What are you waiting for, buddy?
I grinned. "All present and correct! Off we go, then!"
* * *
We landed in the same forest clearing.
It seemed to be deserted. Good. I quickly deactivated the summoning charms. "Time you get some rest, guys. I'll go for a walk."
The village met me with an already-familiar shabby desolation. I hadn't met a single player on my way to the Sarge's shack. Would the game developers discontinue this location? Because if it went like this, in another year's time they wouldn't even have any NPCs left here: they'd all defect to somewhere else.
But if you looked at the problem from a different angle, the developers had spent a lot of money here. Why would they want it to go to waste? Especially as there'd always be some players like myself who'd have their own reasons for avoiding the limelight.
Finally I'd come to the Sarge's shack complete with the brave warrior himself. He noticed me from afar and cringed as if I'd pissed in his soup. Just look at him spitting everywhere!
"There you are, finally! Freakin' Santa's helper!"
We really weren't in the mood, were we? Then again, I could understand him. Had I had to stay in this wretched hole for even an extra month, I'd have been hating every living soul.
"Greetings, Sarge!" I gave him my best good-natured smile.
"You can shove them. What do you want?"
No, he'd definitely gotten up on the wrong side of the bed today. Forum posts had warned against this if you put your first quest off for too long. With every passing day, your relationship with the local authorities could suffer. You had to complete the quest to improve it.
The Way of the Outcast (Mirror World Book #3) LitRPG series Page 8