Log InRegister
    Read Free Web Novels Online

    Thomas drove down the mountain, fiddling with the radio in search of news. It was a lost cause. All the local stations had either been absorbed into national feeds years ago, or were just light-hearted, pre-recorded DJ ramblings. There was no mention whatsoever that a major city was aflame.

    Cell phone internet didn’t work worth a crap out in the trees. He could barely squeak out a text.

    Placerville was the next town on the road. He pulled into the first gas station and went to the attached convenience store.

    Clearly, the fire was the talk of the town, and the clerk was the type of person to give everybody his opinion.

    “It’s all those felons,” Thomas heard him say to a customer as he walked in. “They’ve just broken out, what, yesterday? Now they’re setting themselves up right and tight in the city. Probably want to build their own little criminal empire too. And our lazy government is going to let them!”

    Thomas’s eyebrows knit in confusion as he listened while scanning the end cap for his favorite flavor of cheddar and sour cream chips. He might as well get a snack on the go while the world was falling apart.

    Luckily, a woman in the checkout line had the same question that was on his mind.

    “What do you mean, felons?”

    “He’s talking about the Folsom breakout yesterday, Marie,” said another guy. Then, to the clerk, “Right?”

    The clerk nodded darkly. “It’s no coincidence there’s a mass escape of the most dangerous men in the country, and then the next city over goes up in chaos. I’ve never seen a worse day in our country.” He shook his head sadly.

    The guy looked to be at least 50 years old. Thomas was certain he’d seen worse days for the nation.

    But he wasn’t here to get in a pissing match with the local yokels. Paying for his chips and an energy drink, he left. Then he spent some time in his car on his phone. The signal still wasn’t great, but he could at least get video clips now that he was on the edge of town.

    There had indeed been a breakout from nearby Folsom Prison, but it had involved about 20 inmates, not the entire place as the guy had implied.

    Thomas was able to get to Sacramento’s local subreddit and view a few posts before they were mysteriously taken down. News was being suppressed, and when he saw the videos he understood why.

    All of downtown was infested with little beings that looked like they were made of pure electricity. They were kind of cute; baby-shaped, with overly large heads and big blue eyes. They also zipped along the power lines and happened to set fire to anything they touched.

    To his eyes, they looked like dungeon monsters. Probably high-level ones. Somehow, a dungeon had overflowed within the city.

    What kind of loot would an electric monster drop? And could he help?

    Immediately, Thomas shook his head. No, he couldn’t. He had no skill suited to combating electricity, and his grasp on healing was shaky at best. Derek had gotten really lucky with his hand. His concept of healing was to throw power at it and see what happened.

    Mostly, the city needed fighters. He wasn’t one.

    But guilt rose up anyway. Maybe there was a way he could help that he just hadn’t thought of yet. Didn’t he owe it to those people suffering down there to try?

    “No,” he told himself firmly, and wondered if he was going insane for talking to himself. “I owe it to my family to protect them. I can’t run down there spamming healing and making a scene for myself. People need me back home.”

    He closed his eyes and willed himself to believe it. Slowly but surely, the need to go help faded. He had to talk to Zach about this healing mana. He wasn’t sure if it was his own nature or if he was being influenced.

    One thing was for sure: his plans for the day were screwed. Unless…

    On a whim, he searched for pawn shops and found a couple scattered throughout town. He set his GPS for the one on Main Street. They were over fifty miles away from the dungeon break, and he knew if there was money to be made then stores would be open.

    When he got to the address, he was gratified to see a sandwich board outside the shop proclaiming: WE TRADE MANA CRYSTALS!

    In fact, many of the small mom-and-pop shops had signage stating that they accepted cash, credit, or crystals. Slowly but surely, the conversion was happening.

    Thomas went into the shop and found the owner cleaning rings with a sharp-smelling fluid.

    “Can I help you?” the owner asked, sounding professionally disinterested.

    “Uh, yeah, I was hoping to sell some crystals.” He pulled out a pre-prepared Ziploc bag from his pack. It contained three C-grade reds, one blue, and one brown. All level one, of course. Nothing special, and all just meant to test the waters.

    “Hmm, C-grade,” said the clerk at once, showing he was fair dealing. He pulled a printed sheet from beneath his counter and showed it to Thomas. “These are our prices, and they’re in line with what you’ll get elsewhere in town.”

    He planned to find out about that personally, but at first glance, the prices were consistent with the Crystal Flea Market, if not a touch higher.

    Level 1 (Red, Brown, White, Blue)

    F grade — $5

    E grade — $15

    D grade — $30

    C grade — $50

    B grade — $100

    A grade — $200

    Now for the real test. Thomas took out a second Ziploc containing a single adaptation crystal, level one, of course. It had come from the mimic dungeon. “What about this?”


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    The man took it and glanced it over, his grey eyebrows raising. “Adaptation mana, B-grade. Nice find. Did this come from the Gold Rush Dungeon?”

    “No, one out of Nevada.”

    “I’d love to see that drop table,” he muttered, but did not press for more information. “Five hundred flat for a rare crystal.”

    Five hundred? Zach had used about a dozen of these. Thomas had absorbed a few too. He thought seriously of revisiting the mimic dungeon.

    The purveyor mistook his shocked silence for unhappiness.

    “Of course, some of my buyers want the equivalent in crystals. I don’t have the most generous stock right now, but I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

    Thomas did not need more crystals. Just the opposite, in fact. Cash was going to be phased out at some point, but right now he still needed to pay his rent.

    “I’ll take the cash. Also, what do you know about dungeon items?”

    The man smiled, and Thomas got the impression he was starting to enjoy their interaction. “I have knowledge. Let’s see what you have, then.”

    0 chapter views

    0 Comments

    Note
    0 online