Chapter 22
After Hours at Graveyard Castle, Part I (Solo)
I sit in my car, the driver’s seat reclined just enough that I can stare up through the windshield at the darkening sky. The neon glow of Milton’s Saloon flickers in my peripheral vision. I should go ho. Sleep. Maybe eat sothing more substantial than beer (I’m really under my protein goal for the day).
But first, I need to see what I got. I’m actually surprised neither Clyde or Veronica brought up our rewards. In any case, I couldn’t wait any longer.
A soft, wet plop sounds from the passenger seat.
I turn.
Jelly Boy has wriggled out of my backpack, his little translucent body vibrating with curiosity. His surface ripples, reflecting the dim streetlights outside.
“Hold on,” I say. “I’ll let you know if it’s anything good.”
He jiggles in what I’m pretty sure is excitent.
I pull up my notifications.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATIONS…
[2 Stat Points Currently Unallocated. Assign Stat Points?]
I exhale, already expecting that one.
I open my Stats window.
[User Statistics]
Health Points (HP): 40 [Current: 40]
Mana Points (MP): 4 [Current: 4]
Stamina: 55 [Current: 55]
PHYSICAL STATISTICS:
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 4 (Equipnt Modifier: 1)
Constitution: 3
MAGICAL STATISTICS:
Intelligence: 3
Willpower: 2
Spirit: 1
I smile. Finally!...
At first, every ti I leveled up, my MP stayed at 3—just a flat number, never increasing. But now, suddenly, I have 4 MP. A whole ass increase of a single point.
I check the details. Looks like having an Intelligence of 3 is enough to start adding to my base MP every ti I level. That could be useful. Not now, of course. Right now, I have exactly two cantrips and a wand that makes them free to use. But later? When I have real Spells? When I start needing at least so mana?
I tap my fingers on the steering wheel.
Strength still feels like the best bet, though.
Strength lets fight. Strength lets defend myself.
Until what?
Until I figure out how to enhance more of my Spells? Until I find a way to change the Source of my Spells from Intelligence to Strength?
I don’t even know if that’s possible. How rare was that spell enhancent potion I had received from the first Gate? Would I ever see a potion like that again? I don’t know that either.
But I do know that right now, I can’t afford to waste my levels waiting for sothing theoretical.
I assign both points to Strength. Imdiately, I feel it.
It’s subtle, not like an instant Hulk transformation or anything, but it’s there—my muscles tighten, grow denser. There’s a familiar heat, like the burn after a solid workout, but deeper.
Jelly Boy jiggles, watching .
I roll my shoulders, flex my hands. Yeah. Definitely stronger.
But as I shift in my seat, another thought creeps in.
If increasing my Strength is physically altering my muscles, making them stronger, then what about everything else?
My bones. My joints. My connective tissue.
Even with all my conditioning—the months of training, the careful workouts—how much can my body actually handle before sothing snaps?
I flex my fingers again, testing the movent. I flex my biceps, my pecs.
Maybe I need to start dropping points into Constitution soon. Just to be safe.
I move onto my second notification.
System Notification:
[Claim reward (1)?]
I ntally select yes.
A new notification pops up.
[Achievent Unlocked: Teamwork]
[Description: You have successfully worked as a team with other Participants in order to defeat a stronger monster.]
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
Reward: Bronze Gate Ticket Enhancent: Combine (1 of 4), Spell Scroll: Magnify Gravity (x1).
I blink. That’s… more than I expected.
Jelly Boy vibrates beside , his little jelly body shifting in a weird, flexing undulation—his version of curiosity.
“Hold on, let check these out first.”
I open the first reward.
[Bronze Gate Ticket Enhancent: Combine (1 of 4)]
[Description: This is a Ticket Enhancent with the ‘Combine’ attribute. It must be activated in conjunction with a Bronze Gate Ticket. When used, this Enhancent is capable of combining Bronze Gate Tickets into a single Gate Ticket. Requires all component parts of the Enhancent to be used simultaneously. Using this item expends the Enhancent.]
Weird.
I turn the words over in my head.
So, if I get all four pieces, I can combine Bronze Gate Tickets? Into what, exactly? A Silver Ticket? Or sothing else?
I don’t know. And that bothers .
Jelly Boy jostles against my arm. I absently pat his jiggly head and move onto the second item.
[Spell Scroll: Magnify Gravity]
[Description: This is a spell scroll. It has a one-use limitation. Note: This Spell Scroll may be transfigured into a permanent Spell with the correct application of Skills and Tools. This is a Level 1 Spell Scroll. This Scroll contains the Spell ‘Magnify Gravity.’]
I pause.
A spell. A real spell. Magnify Gravity. That sounds badass!
Magnify Gravity (Evocation Spell: Level 1)
Casting Ti: Instantaneous
Mana Cost: 5 MP
Range: 60 Feet
Duration: 1 minute
Description: The spellcaster can create a sphere centered on a point that the spellcaster can see within range. The radius of the sphere is equal to the spellcaster’s Intelligence stat, up to a maximum radius of 10 feet. Within this sphere, the effects of gravity are magnified. Warning: this Spell requires concentration! A spellcaster cannot have this Spell active while having other Spells active that also require concentration.
Five Mana. That’s the cost of Magnify Gravity. Actually, it’s surprisingly low, being a Level 1 Spell. I thought the jump from Cantrip to Level 1 might have been bigger. Still, I frown at the number on my interface. Four MP total. Not enough. Which ans, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t cast it right now.
Disheartening. But not unexpected. I wouldn’t burn my one-ti use on sothing stupid anyway. No, the real value here is figuring out how to make it permanent. That part of the Spell Scroll’s description is the real promise, even with the Spell itself sounding aweso.
I ntally flag that as a priority. Maybe there’s a thread on the Discussion Channels about it? People have figured out dumber exploits before. If soone out there knows how to transfigure a scroll into a real, slotted Spell, I need to find them.
Before I can dig into it further, my phone vibrates.
I check the notification. A new group chat.
‘Teamwork Make the Dream Work’
It’s from Clyde.
>Clyde: You guys open your rewards yet?
I smirk. Clyde doesn’t seem like the type who’d wait long himself.
>Joseph: Couldn’t help myself.
>Veronica: First thing I did. LOL.
Clyde responds almost imdiately.
>Clyde: You two get that weird Bronze Ticket Enhancent too?
I blink.
>Joseph: Yeah.
>Veronica: Sa.
>Clyde: Interesting.
I tap my fingers against the wheel, watching the little “typing…” bubble flicker.
>Clyde: I think this ans we might be able to enter a Bronze Gate TOGETHER, right?
That stops cold. That thought hadn’t crossed my mind.
A Bronze Gate. With allies?
That would be a ga changer.
Normally, Bronze Gates are solo affairs. You go in alone, you fight alone, and you get your Class alone.
But what if we don’t have to?
What if the Combine Enhancent lets us stack our tickets? If we can force our way into a single Bronze Gate as a group, it completely changes the odds.
>Veronica: Holy shit. That would be huge.
>Veronica: Mine said 1 of 4. We need to find a fourth Ticket Enhancent.
>Veronica: Maybe we’ll get it on our next Extraction job.
I chew the inside of my cheek, staring at the screen.
I could text them. Tell them about my next move. What I was planning on doing this evening. Ask them to join .
But I don’t.
Sothing in hesitates. I don’t know why.
No—I do know why.
I need to do this next part alone.
I exhale, lock my phone, and toss it into the center console’s cupholder. Jelly Boy lets out a soft, warbling hum as I turn the ignition. The engine growls to life.
I shift into drive.
The sky outside has darkened, more lights outside Milton’s Saloon flickering to life like embers in the gloom.
“Alright, buddy,” I murmur, gripping the wheel. “Let’s go see what we’re made of.”
And with that, I pull out onto the road, disappearing into the night.
The junkyard is quiet.
Not silent—there’s always sound in the city, even out here—but quiet enough. The occasional gust of wind rattles loose scraps of tal. Distant sirens wail, swallowed by the night. A rusted-out washing machine groans as it shifts under its own weight.
I pull up to the chain-link fence, my tires crunching over gravel. The headlights catch the warped letters on a battered old sign:
STEVE’S SCRAP & SALVAGE
NO TRESPASSING
(EXCEPT IF YOU’RE COOL—THEN KNOCK FIRST)
I smirk, throwing the car into park.
Steve, my favorite owner of Diesel Athletic Club, my favorite gym, also owns this place. It’s more of a pet project than a real business. A place to tinker, to tear apart engines and put them back together again. I would often help Steve on this pet project when I had ti—and since coming back ho, I’ve had ti to spare. Sotis it was helping him unload his pickup truck with whatever interesting scrap he found on the side of the road that day. Other tis, I was a full-fledged chanical assistant. I have to admit, I enjoyed the work. But god dammit, am I an idiot when it cos to chanics and tinkering.
Just as I expected, the junkyard looks deserted. No one cos around unless it’s Steve, and he’s not a night owl.
Perfect.
I kill the engine and grab my backpack. Jelly Boy wriggles inside, vibrating with curiosity.
“Hold your horses,” I mutter, slinging the pack over my shoulder.
I step out and approach the gate. The lock on the gate is old but solid. No key. Just a four-digit combo. Steve showed it to ages ago and, luckily, I still rember it.
Click.
The lock pops open.
I slip inside, shutting the gate behind .
The yard sprawls out before in a maze of rusted husks and twisted tal. Gutted cars, mountains of scrap, skeletal remains of machines long past their pri. It slls like old oil, hot tal, and rain-soaked concrete.
I make my way toward the back.
Near the far fence, there’s a covered patio, half-hidden behind a pile of scrap. Exactly how I rembered it! It’s tucked away, out of view from the main road. Even if soone happened to drive by, the light wouldn’t be obvious from the other side of the junkyard’s fence.
This is it.
I exhale, rolling my shoulders. Ti to get to work.
I access my Inventory with a thought.
A Gate Ticket (Rank E Quality) materializes in my hand. A small, thin sliver of shimring paper, barely bigger than an old-ti train ticket. The letters on them shift, almost alive, written in a language that isn’t ant to be read.
I need the experience. Even if the Extraction jobs go the way we think, they won’t give the real test I need. Or the ti to experint.
This, though? This will.
I take a deep breath.
For a second, I consider the risks, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since the day I turned down Midwest Capital. My mind was made up. I access my System interface and equip my equipnt.
Flash.
The cape appears on my shoulders and the pointy blue wizard’s hat snap onto my head in a flicker of blue light. My equipnt slots fill.
And then, using the last of my AP, I slot my new ability: Dismber (Beginner).
A shiver runs through . The ability settles in like a knife sliding into its sheath. Sothing in my core clicks into place.
I clench my fist. You’re ready, I tell myself. Now, for the main event.
I hold up a Gate Ticket. With a quick ntal command, I activate it.
The air trembles.
Then, with a snap of electricity—
Rip.
A jagged, swirling tear rends open reality before . A vortex of light, swirling with raw, arcane force. The Ticket disintegrates, its particles sucked into the maw of the forming Gate.
The wind picks up. Fingers of electricity crackle around the edges of the portal.
Jelly Boy shivers in my backpack.
I step forward.
And then, without another thought, I enter the Gate.
Reviews
All reviews (0)