Chapter Nine

The thick warren of rocks and water-logged wood unfortunately didn’t contain a wealth of hidden riches. Instead, it contained a warning. One instructing him not to feel so safe in these deeper waters and reminding him that he was on a time limit. The sight would’ve probably been overwhelmingly gruesome, had he happened upon it a week earlier. As it was, Bob still felt decidedly lucky that he currently lacked the ability to vomit.

The bodies were mostly stripped clean by scavengers. Lingering in some strange spot between ‘corpse’ and ‘skeleton’. Still held together by tendon and ligament, but with what flesh remained reduced down to translucent whisps hanging tenuously to bone.

They also weren’t human. Something which he found strangely more off-putting, rather than less. If forced to guess, he’d say that they were his first introduction to Goblins; at least if their short stature and strangely angled skulls were any indication.

Either way, he hoped to avoid meeting any living members of the species. He couldn’t see himself trusting something whose jaw was primarily filled with incisors.

Bob had happened upon them nearly ten minutes ago. Lingering in the area less out some dark sense of curiosity for their unknown anatomy, and more due to practical necessity.

That necessity being the search for – and acquisition of – ‘loot’.

While neither of the corpses had anything on them that would be gaining him any experience, their belongings were in much better condition than those items he’d happened upon earlier. His ‘pickaxe’ now feeling decidedly like the trash the system had described it as.

And one item in particular had drawn Bob’s interest.

Both were in armor. A patchwork of hardened and pliable leather which, given the light-blue shade of the skins, didn’t come from any animal he’d ever encountered. They seemed decently crafted and fit to the bodies now rotting inside them though; something which asked uncomfortable questions about the intelligence level of creatures whom the only humans he’d encountered treated as beasts.

That said, Bob had little interest in whatever geo-political issues or racial tensions might be impacting this world at the moment. His sole focus instead centered on a bracer which had fallen away from one of the bodies. Presumably after one of the larger fish in the area had ripped its owner’s hand off.

The top of the armguard was crafted out of hardened leather, while the sides and bottom were much thinner and more malleable. It was also quite strangely proportioned; each Goblin apparently built like a miniature Popeye. With slim, willowy biceps but staggeringly built and corded forearms. The suggested grip strength making the claws tipping their skeletal fingers look even more frightening.

What had most drawn Bob’s attention, however, was the damage that had been done to the fallen bit of armor. The top piece of the bracer almost entirely cleaved through by what must have been the strike of an axe. One probably swung with enough force to break the arm beneath, even if it hadn’t managed to completely pierce the leather. What remained though, was paper thin.

This, combined with the fact that it also just so happened to be the perfect size for an animated sack to squeeze itself into, had given Bob something of an idea. One which, if it succeeded, had the potential to massively improve his ability to traverse the endless lakebed.

Though, even if his plan failed, simply using it as armor wouldn’t be a bad idea anyway. As he’d continued to travel deeper, the fish around him had slowly but surely been increasing in size. None of the larger ones had shown him much in the way of interest, but he was very much aware that – if they did – they could swallow him down with far more ease than his previous catfish opponent. Oddly enough however, as far as dangers go, that wasn’t his biggest worry.

While he might still have some questions over the intelligence level of Goblins, and whether or not it would also qualify them as ‘sapients’ to the system, their presence reminded Bob of the existence of something else. Something which might be of considerably more concern to him than indiscriminate catfish.

Monsters.

The deeper he traveled, the likelier it was that he encountered something far more dangerous than fish in this lake. And while he had no reason to believe they would directly target him, Bob technically being a monster himself, after all, he also had no reason to believe he’d be left alone.

And, given his inability to escape from even a moderately mobile opponent, Bob figured the best way to counter that was to turn himself into a leatherbound hermit crab.

With a great deal of squirming and squishing, Bob eventually succeeded in wedging himself firmly – and entirely – within the bracer. His eye floating slightly out the front, twitching back and forth to give him a greater range of vision. Once he was fully settled, he made his first attempt to move.

Attempt being the key word.

His initial efforts were less than effective. His previous slug-like method of dragging himself around was having issues with the weight and mass added by the bracer; feeling more like he was trying to pull himself out of it, rather than drag them both forward. Which, unfortunately, kind of nixed his backup plan.

Now to test something slightly more outlandish.

Bob separated the coins in his body, placing half in the ‘back’ end of the bracer, while shifting the rest towards the ‘front’. Making sure to keep his ‘mouth’ clenched tightly shut as he did so. Once things were in place, he braced himself before – for the first time since finding the silver coins – using every last one of his eight points of strength as he tried to push himself together.

It took more than a few attempts, and a great deal of flexing non-existent muscles, but eventually he both heard and felt the tearing and twisting of leather fibers. With one last push, he managed to fold the bracer nearly in half.

Before he then unfolded it. Only now half a foot further along than he’d previously been.

Behold. The power of the inchworm.

He ended up needing to do some on-the-spot redistribution of coins in order to balance out the weight, but it didn’t take long to get used to the motion. And once he did, he found that his speed had increased by an even greater margin than he’d hoped for.

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Which briefly left him shocked. Before Bob realized that he was, essentially, just a big, floppy cloth muscle. Something which made independent locomotion a bit of an endeavor, but assisted greatly in the repetitive contraction and retraction required to do… whatever this was.

After a bit more time spent getting used to his newest form of locomotion, Bob eventually decided to leave the reef-like section of stones; having at this point mostly scoured the area for any potential treasure. There remained a visible decline continuing to run in one direction, so he set off. Still seeking the lake’s lowest point.

Some hours later, he couldn’t help but be in awe of his un-biological biology. He imagined any flesh and blood creature attempting to get around by such awkward movements would have exhausted itself in short order. But apparently substituting out muscles and bones for seams and stitches worked wonders, because he still felt fresh as a daisy.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still well aware of this form’s faults of course. They were many and varied; not least of which being the near panic-attacks he faced every time he tried to reach out with a hand that wasn’t there. But after his recent successes, Bob felt more inclined to focus on the silver linings of all those dark clouds filling up his horizon.

Admittedly, the fact that his experience quota was doubling each level left him more than a bit concerned for his potential future. But, like the lake flooding, there wasn’t really much he could do about that other than hope for more opportunities to level up.

And that both silver and copper were worth far less in the world outside than he assumed they were.

As for things he could control however, his situation was actually looking up. He’d surrounded himself in armor, his inch-worm method was working brilliantly and, despite a recent dry streak, he was still feeling fairly hopeful about finding further riches upon reaching the lake’s bottom.

A destination he was currently racing towards going at-least three times his prior speed.

Besides, he was only a few handfuls of copper from level nine. And only a couple silver past that to break through to ten. An amount which admittedly felt a bit intimidating at the moment, but who knows how much coin adventurers brought out with them on the regular. Hell, he’d already found two silver pieces down here, hoping to find a few more wasn’t that big of a reach.

Really, the only thing bothering him at the moment were the small crowd of fish that had begun pestering him since he’d taken off. He figured they were attracted by the tiny silt cloud he put up every time he moved; those few who stayed behind after their first inspection doing so out of curiosity for his strange antics. He couldn’t imagine any other reason why they lingered, given that they were too small to cause him trouble even before he armored up.