Chapter 7 – System Vending Machine

Gutter-Tooth
– Type: Weapon
– Tier: Rare
– Description: A cruel, serrated iron crescent anchored to a heavy, rust-pitted chain. It catches on flesh and tears tissue from bone, mimicking the feral, low-profile striking of a corridor predator.
– Stat Modifications: +5 Strength, +5 Vitality, +3 Mana
– Effect: When the blade drinks the blood of an enemy, increase the potency of your next skill by 50%.

The stat modifications were immediate.

Five entire points of Strength surged through his frame like an instant stimulant, tightening his muscles. The added Vitality washed away the lingering weight of his sleepless night, erasing the exhaustion from his non-stop push-up grind.

Plus three mana meant, in theory, his maximum pool had expanded. He could now use Minor Heal twice instead of just once. He tried calling on the energy right away, and he was correct. The blue light flared twice before he hit empty.

But he frowned at the realization.

Mathematically, it didn’t add up. An extra three points should have left him with a trace amount of leftover energy after two casts, but his pool was completely bone-dry. It had used up pretty much everything. The System’s scaling was hidden, or his understanding of the numbers was wrong.

He stared at the heavy scythe on his floor, confused at first about what to do with a weapon so unwieldy in a small apartment. But another simple thought stored the heavy chain right back into his body, the iron dissolving into a phantom chill beneath his skin.

Yep.

The world had gone completely mad, and the worst part was that nothing was explained. It hadn’t even cost him mana to summon the weapon; there was no sign of the familiar environmental static. It operated on a completely different mechanic.

A severe hunger pang stabbed deep into his gut, breaking his focus. Jake took a slow breath, forcing his mind back into Concentration until the physical irritation eased into a dull, manageable ache.

He tried settling back into Concentration, obsessed with the feeling of turning in on himself, but no matter what he tried, the nibbling in his gut refused to let him focus.

Sighing, he stood up. He was too hungry and too thirsty to concentrate.

What else can I do? Sleep?

He scoffed to himself and immediately tossed the bed duvet to the far corner. He made himself a target made of whatever he could find around the bland apartment and stood at the far side of the room. He painted a target on the duvet with a pen he’d found around the place.

Retrieving his bow and quiver, he started target practice.

His first arrow sailed through the air and hit the outer ring, which considering how close he was, was kind of pathetic. He had full intentions of using a bow for its full range capabilities, not waiting until the monsters got so close he could smell the stench on their breath.

As for the Gutter-Tooth? Yeah, he was under no delusion that he could even hope to use that thing without seriously injuring himself.

Edwin’s accuracy with that crossbow, though I’m sure it helps being close to a firearm, was nothing short of amazing. And I’m guessing it’s thanks to his Marksmanship Skill.

Why couldn’t Jake earn his own? Marksmanship, he was certain of it now from the fight with the Skulkers, was much better than Bowmanship. He hit a bullseye twice in a row. From what he knew of soldiers, even they couldn’t do that in the middle of a high-tense shootout.

But Bowmanship? Maybe there was something lower than that? He was sure, just like Concentration, if he put enough time and effort into it, he could learn a new Skill all on his own.

He began shooting into the duvet from all different angles and distances.

When he got near the bullseye after an hour or so, he moved into the hallway. There were a few people moping around, talking about this or that. Jake paid them no attention.

Someone said hello, thanking him for going up, but he just ignored them. He was too busy thinking about the next arrow.

One again, he started shooting at his target. When he got close, he’d move back further and further away. At some point, the hunger disappeared—maybe he’d gotten used to it?

And without meaning to, he entered a deep Concentration, arrow after arrow. He could now hit the inner ring semi-consistently from twenty-five feet away.

He felt like he was on the cusp of something when all forms of Concentration shattered. Tiredness struck him like a physical blow as he swayed on the spot, reaching out for the wall to keep himself from falling.

Finally, he had reached his limit.

Retrieving his arrows, he stumbled back to his room and collapsed on the bed. He barely had time to check his progress.

Name: Jake Maddox
Level: 0
Class: (Unlockable at Level 15)
Trait: Absolute Perception

Skills:

Minor Heal (Mastery: 6.2%)
Concentration (Mastery: 5.7%)

Stats:

Strength: 10 (+5)
Vitality: 9 (+5)
Dexterity: 7
Perception: 21
Mana: 2 (+3)

Gears:

Gutter-Tooth

Is that… Good… Progress?

No longer able to keep his eyes open, he fell asleep.

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***

He woke up with a start; loud, riotous noise filtering in through the small crack under his door.

“What is going on?” He grumbled, checking the clock as he stumbled half asleep towards the door. It was almost morning.

Damn, he thought, rubbing at the crust that had formed in the corner of his eyes. I slept a long while.

Opening the door, he peeked out into the hall. Everyone was surrounding a large vending machine that… wasn’t there a few hours ago.

What the hell?

Jake scraped his feel along the floor as he shuffled closer, narrowly avoiding, squeezing through the crowd.

Once at the front, he noticed Chloe, Edwin, Sloane, Lyle—who was holding his rib, Susan, and… Where was Jonathan? Oh yeah, he was probably still wounded.

I should probably heal him again. Whatever, if he’s fine, then that’s good. It would be a waste of my mana otherwise.

“You’re up,” he lowered his voice as he stood next to Lyle.