Most tis the System spoke to , it was a source of frustration. Each instance harkened back to my arrival in Kallis, when the only words I’d received were about errors, superfluous systems, and how much they were offline.
Rarely, I liked the ssages sent my way. It was a fleetingly scarce experience, and I grinned as one such experience appeared, the description of Snips’s eyepatch rising to fill…
Wait, what?
I absorbed the first line, then skim-read til the last.
You have learned alchemy!
…
You have advanced to alchemy 64!
I caught the coin-filled sacks that appeared behind . “Okay, how the frack does a leather eyepatch have anything to do with alchemy? That makes literally zero—”
More letters in bold arrived, cutting my words off. My core grew warm with anticipation when I saw the first line.
Transformative Eyepatch of the Traveling Fisher
But then I saw the rest of them.
[Authorization error: protected asset in lower realm]
I looked up at the ceiling, imagining the System in the sky beyond. “At this point, you’re for sure just fracking with .” I paused, waiting for a response, so snarky comnt like I’d seen once before. Nothing ca. I let out a sigh and, looking for a pick--up, peered at Snips’s new item.
It fit perfectly, the previously oversized strips contoured to her carapace. The leather had been dyed pitch black, and tal studs speckled the straps, their gleaming tips only just protruding.
I let out a soft whistle. “Was anyone able to inspect… Why are you all staring at like that?”
Sergeant Snips, looking particularly sharp with her new garnt, grew. The eyepatch transford with her suit. She reached forward with a single claw and pointed at my navel.
“Oh…” I said, blinking down at my abdon. It was glowing. Like glowing glowing. Shining-like-I-had-eaten-a-star glowing.
I lifted my shirt to reveal a bright-white mark in the place I’d first felt my core. I poked it. Warm. Fading by the second. Before I knew it, the mark was gone, as was what I had assud to be an anticipatory heat but was evidently sothing much more.
“Huh…” I said. “Neat.”
Movent had yet to return to the workshop. Everyone seed to struggle with where to look, their expressions landing between incredulity and shock as they assessed , Snips, and her new eyepatch.
“Guys, c’mon…” I shook my head. “I know abs like mine are usually reserved for Grecian gods, but you’re going to make Maria jealous if you continue staring. And that’s not even ntioning Barry. I do my best to keep my jacked bod under covers. His identity as Tropica’s muscleman might be threatened if he catches you salivating like this.”
So of the won’s—and a few of the n’s—faces flushed red. Most knew better and simply rolled their eyes, trying to hide their amusent with feigned annoyance. Greg and Brad, however, were genuine in their loathing.
“Shut up, Fischer,” they said in unison, followed by, “Jinx!”, “Under a roof!”, and twin thumps as both brothers punched each other on the shoulder.
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I smiled at them, but it grew strained. “Every ti the bloody System speaks, it only makes more confused. Alchemy?” I shook my head and blew air through my lips. “What the frack?, man?”
“It really gave you levels in alchemy?” Brad asked, rubbing the arm his brother had struck. “Was that where both sacks of coin ca from?”
“Yeah. I shot from zero to sixty-four.”
Snips hissed.
“Right? And then it doesn’t even give a proper description for the eyepatch! All I learned was the title. Transformative Eyepatch of the Traveling Fisher. The only thing close to being descriptive is ‘transformative’, and we already know it grows bigger and smaller with you, Snips.”
She shook her carapace.
“Huh?”
“That’s not all it does,” hissed Snips.
“ What are you trying to—”
Shink!
In an instant, the tal studs sprouted from beneath the blackened leather, becoming lengthy spikes resembling an off-center mohawk atop her mighty carapace. The bottom strap did the sa, and those deadly needles skewered the table, lifting her inches into the air.
With another shink, they retracted. She landed gracefully on the workbench. Snips’s visible eye sparkled.
So of the nearby cultivators took an involuntary step back. They no longer gave a shit about my shenanigans—all gazes were locked on Snips. She spun slowly, showing off her new garnt, the tal spikes sounding like a sword in its scabbard each ti she sheathed and unsheathed them.
“Snips, you beautiful, sturdy crustacean…” I picked her up and raised her slightly, showing off her gleaming tips. “Forget about Rocky. You are, without a doubt, the coolest crab on these shores.”
“Yes,” hissed Snips in agreent, nodding sagely as she preened under the attention.
“I was gonna get started on my next crafting project, but this changes things. Shall we go show you off a bit?”
She resud nodding, then went stiff as an oyster, a thought striking her. She blew conspiratorial bubbles, gave so side-eye, and sent an idea. I grinned back. It was a downright devious prank, made all the more fitting against its intended target.
“Bye!” I yelled, waving a hand over my shoulder as I snatched Snips and strode from the building.
In my haste to leave, I almost ran into a trio of tal-plated dwarves. All five of us froze.
“Uhhh,” I said.
“Umm?” hissed Snips.
“Errrr,” Paul and Toby and Theresa said. Paul’s oversized-armor clinked as he raised a visored helt from his eyes.
I pointed down at their suits. “How… I don’t even know where to begin. Where’d you get those? Where are you going?” I rubbed my chin with one hand. Snips mirrored the gesture from the crook of my arm. “And can we co too? It looks a great ti.”
Paul let out an awkward laugh. “Oh, uhhh, yeah? You can co if you want…”
“We’re going ‘venturing!” Theresa yelled. I was pretty sure it was Theresa, anyway. Her oversized armor hid every one of her features. “We got the suits from uncle Danny!”
I grinned at hearing the quartermaster referred to as ‘uncle’. “Adventuring, huh? Sounds like fun. Do you have a direction in mind?”
Toby fit his armor better than the other two, but he was nonetheless awkward, his fingers fidgeting with a small axe strapped to his waist as he replied. “The mines…”
“The iron ore one?”
“Yup!” Theresa yelled, stabbing a wooden sword skyward, the training weapon only just shorter than she was. “We’re gonna—”
“Don’t! Don’t tell ! You’ll, uhhhh, ruin the surprise!” If they let know the specifics, stood at attention and snapped off a salute. “Dismissed, soldiers! Do Tropica proud!”
Theresa bellowed and charged away. Paul followed soon after, both kids raising their respective weapons as they sprinted away, armor clanging like tal sheets in a spin cycle. Toby gave an embarrassed smile before running off after the others, his weapon and suit only mildly quieter.
“Huh,” I said. “How about that?”
Snips cocked her carapace in question.
“The children…” I mused, watching them go. “They really do yearn for the mines.”
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