Chapter 7: Luring out the Rabble

  “Huh… now this is more like it,” Fisk smirked as he held the bronze sawed-off double barrel shotgun up to the lantern light. Or, at least what he thought was a shotgun as there was no break to reload.

  Fisk looked into the bag, noting the lack of bullets.

  “Of course… give me a gun but no bullets,” Fisk muttered before using observe on the weapon.

  [Rusty equalizer MK1: Rare]

  Desc: A smoothbore weapon to surpass steel and sorcery. Utilizes mana to fire a shower of enchanted flechettes generated from mana.

  Stats

  +8 Atk

  -10MP Per Shot

  Scaling: C+ Dex

  Damage Type: Impact

  “Equalizer huh… ten MP per shot that leaves me with five shots…” Fisk said aloud before opening his equipment slots and noting the item was already equipped to his main hand.

  He held the gun outward, caressing the smooth trigger guard with his eye staring down the sights of the shotgun modeled after a shortened stoeger.

  Fisk inhaled, his hands missing the tremors that had plagued him since his tour of Africa.

  Heavy… No safety. No fire selector… is there a way to-

  Suddenly the weapon vanished, appearing in an inventory block at the side of his vision.

  “Huh…” Fisk said before reaching towards the block and pulling out the shotgun. “Neat.”

  Fisk repeated the action, stashing and retrieving the weapon over and over again and watching with boyish fascination as the gun vanished from existence only to reappear at whim.

  Then, Fisk reached over, grabbing the bowl of beefy stew and slipping it into the floating box with his eyes widening as it disappeared.

  “...Awesome,” Fisk muttered, a wide smile on his face as he imagined the applications.

  Fisk looked down at his leg, a small smile on his face.

  “Maybe I can get a prosthetic from planet terror.”

  ****

  A knock at the door and Fisk woke, his eyes turning to the woman slowly inching her way into his room while dragging a table behind her with a bundle in her free arm.

  A week had passed, the time spent with Fisk relatively bored out of his mind numbingly reading through the forums and getting acquainted to terms like DPS, MP, and HP.

  Fortunately, Faith was here to keep him company, the woman bringing him food and talking to him in a way that brought him comfort.

  “Mr. Fisk, I brought the items!” Faith said, a happy expression on her face that lightened the dim room with her positivity.

  “Oh?” Fisk said, eyeing the bundle placed onto the table with a loud thud.

  He peeked over, attempting to sneak a peak only to have his hand smacked away.

  “Ow! What the hell was that for?” Fisk asked, noting he had lost a point of HP.

  “Magic words for all my hard work?”

  Fisk let out a wry chuckled, “Thank You, Faith. May I see the items?”

  “Yes you may,” Faith said, poking Fisk on the nose with her curiosity on full display after weeks of waiting.

  Fisk opened the bag, sifting through the items that seemed familiar yet foreign.

  “So this is a magic matrix…” Fisk muttered, the forums had shown him pictures of the various cores, the rarity and types, but seeing it in person was different than through a photo.

  It was… warm, blue, small. Observe denoting the spherical item as just a crafting material but with question marks beneath the description.

  Fisk held it up, feeling the jagged crystalline structure of the item.

  “Iron… magic matrix, wood, a…” Fisk frowned, lifting up an amputated paw of a rabbit. “Oh lovely, it's an actual rabbit's paw…”

  “So… what are you going to do with it all?” Faith asked as she took a seat on his bed.

  “Good question,” Fisk replied, grabbing the items and adding them to his inventory.

  “You're an immortal?!” Faith gasped, rising to her feet as the items dematerialized and vanished into thin air.

  “Huh? Oh… Unfortunately I am not,” Fisk sighed.

  “But you-”

  “It's complicated-”

  “Okay Mr. Complicated, I know you are NOT about to keep a big secret from me after feeding, dressing, and hiding you in my home for three weeks! For free! I might add!”

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  Fisk pursed his lips, “Right…”

  “So?”

  Fisk looked away, his mind churning with ideas. Then Faith was close, too close, crawling over him with both hands moving his face to face her.

  “Are you about to lie to me?”

  “No,” Fisk sighed “I'm not an immortal, but I'm also not… like you. I come from a $##_-#$&+...”

  Fisk frowned, “I'm from #&&--+)?”

  Faith cocked her head to the side, confusion evident on her face as she tried to make sense of the random words spewing from Fisk's mouth.

  “....”

  “....”

  “Fine, keep your secrets, see if I feed you anymore,” Faith shrugged, rising from the bed and taking the nearby bowl of stew much to Fisk's dismay.

  “Now wait don't be rash!” Fisk said, catching the woman's wrist. “I'd tell you, but I can't. There's like a blocker or a filter that isn't letting me.”

  “You mean you're cursed?”

  Unsure of how to respond, Fisk merely nodded.

  “Look, I'd tell you if I could, but I can't. I really appreciate what you've done for me and I wouldn't keep something away from you if I didn't need to,” Fisk said as the woman crossed her arms. “I swear it. Just… have a little faith in me.”

  “Seriously?”

  Fisk smiled.

  The woman exhaled, rolling her eyes as she tried to hide the edges of her mouth that nearly turned into a smile.

  “Why do I sense you're about to ask me for something?”

  “Well, because I am,” Fisk said, closing the forum menu unseen to Faith, “I need a disguise.”

  “A disguise?”

  “Yeah, a costume or something to obscure myself. I have to see your village’s blacksmith and I can't be seen by the immortals otherwise… well it would be bad.”

  “So that's what that junk is for.”

  “Yeah.”

  Faith paused, tapping her lip as she took on a look of deep thought.

  “There's the berry basket?” Faith offered.

  “Absolutely not,” Fisk replied deadpan.

  “Well I don't know how you're going to get from here to Sam’s place, especially with your leg. Plus she doesn't like strangers and you'll need someone to talk to her.”

  Fisk closed his eyes with a sighed, “It's…. Fine, it's emasculating. Okay? I'm not a fan of being picked up by women.”

  “Really? Emasculating? Some people like being picked up by women.”

  “Not me! Okay, ugh,” Fisk pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fine. Whatever, basket it is.”

  Faith’s mouth finally revealed a smile.

  “I promise I'll be gentle,” Faith giggled before leaving the room.

  *****

  In a basket stinking of berries, Fisk clenched his jaw, calming himself as he sat folded up and tucked into himself.

  “Are you ready? Can you see properly?” Faith asked as Fisk felt himself being easily lifted up.

  “Yup,” Fisk groaned as he peeked through the tiny hole that had been whittled into the basket.

  With Fisk on her back, Faith exited her home to the hustle and sound of a lively village.

  According to the forums, Liurnia was a secluded village, a town home to a dungeon nearby where adventurers gathered. As such, it was a pit stop, a hub for trade and players coming out to make use of its amenities.

  Fortunately, given the tedium of trekking up the mountainside and through monster infested lands, most players didn't bother coming to Liurnia due to its mediocre drops. Those that did, only came for restocks before going back to their dungeon delving.

  Moving, Fisk swept his gaze over the players who paid Faith no mind.

  So long as no one used observe on him…

  Soon the air turned acrid, a sooty odor that filled Fisk's nostrils as he took in the smell of burning coal and heated embers.

  “There's a bunch of immortals,” Faith whispered, “What do you want to do?”

  “Let me see,” Fisk sent back with Faith setting him down and facing towards the forge where dozens of adventurers stood.

  “We have no choice…” Fisk whispered, watching as a player placed a bundle of items on a forge that suddenly began to glow blue before condensing into a pair of boots, “Let's wait them out.”

  Three hours passed.

  “Do we still need to wait?” Faith leaned over, whispering down to the basket she sat on. Despite not being able to see her, he could almost picture her bored expression.

  “Just… just give me a moment,” Fisk said, racking his brain when suddenly, an idea occurred.

  Fisk opened the forums.

  [Spotted One-Leg!!!]

  -I spotted a guy with one leg leaving Liurnia! I'm new but I heard people were looking for him: By [Nobody]

  “And now… we wait,” Fisk muttered, his eyes shifting from the forum screen to the adventurers milling about.

  “Ya know, I like you. But I don't think I like you enough to spend another three hours of my day waiting in the heat,” Faith said, the woman clearly bored.

  “Wait for it.”

  Then, it happened. Like wildfire, the heads of the adventurers began to perk up, their voices clamoring into excited chatter before taking off.

  “They're…. Leaving?” Faith blinked, watching as the dozens of adventurers began taking off towards the exit of the village in a mad frenzy.

  “Go! Faith! Let's go!” Fisk shouted, then bin he sat in shaking violently.

  Without delay Fisk was on the move, the woman scurrying across the street with her package in tow and bringing him into the workshop no devoid of players.

  “Sam! Sam where are you?!” Faith shouted as she brought Fisk to a counter and set him down. “Sam!”

  “Whaaaaaaaaat?!” A woman's voice responded, followed by auburn-skinned woman in overalls coming out with large goggles on her short red-hair. “Didn't anyone ever tell you I'm busy?!”

  “Well get unbusy, I need a favor,” Faith replied with Fisk noting the sleep deprived eyes of the blacksmith.

  If they're ai… do they need sleep?

  “What does a hooch peddler need from me?”

  At the words ‘hooch peddler’ Faith’s eye twitched, an action that did not go unnoticed by Fisk who watched the interaction intently.

  “Not me, my friend,” Faith said, opening the top of the basket to reveal Fisk who gave a little wave.

  The blacksmith cast her green eyes down at Fisk, a brow raised before her gaze flicked back to Faith.

  “I’m… not even going to ask, but if you haven't noticed, I'm swamped, these damn immortals keep me working twenty-five seven! I barely even sleep!”

  “Please, it's important,” Faith said with Sam grumbling.

  “It's always important. Look, if you want my services, pay up with coin or materials.”

  As the two argued Fisk took the opportunity to try and use observe on Sam.

  Title: Blacksmith of Liurnia

  Name: Sam ???

  Stats: ????

  Special Skills: ???

  Fisk frowned, “I was told you accept blueprints?”

  Sam scratched her chin, letting out a yawn in the process, “I do, but only if it's something inter-”

  “Share recipe, Air-Trekker Forge Leg MK1, ” Fisk said with the interface displaying the blueprint at his target in the form of an unrolled piece of papyrus.

  Sam froze, her brow raised.

  Given the fact that people in this world could heal and regenerate limbs, Fisk was banking on the rarity of his blueprint catching the blacksmith’s attention.

  “Well… now isn't this interesting…” Sam said, leaning over the counter with Fisk looking away from her dangling boobs. “Do you have the materials? For a blueprint of this quality, I wouldn't mind taking a look.”

  “Here,” Fisk said, dropping the items onto the counter.

  Sam smiled, “Excellent… yeah, yeah this'll do.”