The forest is a treasure trove of things I don’t have the knowledge or tools to gather. A tragedy, though I don’t waste opportunities to fight against the abundance of aggressive monkeys. I’ve learned since I slew the first, where there is one, there are many.

After the first, I don’t let the devious monkeys get the jump on me. They’re present in enough numbers that I eventually get to level two, gain two more attributes, and throw them into dexterity.

The attribute does far more than I first thought, and once I put the additional points in, I can move far easier. How I managed to move through the forest in the first place with only three points, I’ll never know. In addition to the ease of full body movement, I’m also able to use [Gathering] with far more proficiency.

Admittedly, my primary worry is surviving this world, but survival doesn’t necessarily mean I can’t thrive too. Dexterity makes moving easier, even if it doesn’t make my armor lighter like strength does, it also allows me to do a better job harvesting, which means I’ll make more money from what I harvest.

More money, more power, more survival. A win-win-win situation, though I’ll be sure not to neglect my other attributes either. They all seem equally important, all things considered. Makes me worry my Dark Knight class might require me to spread myself too thin when it comes to attribute investment, but that’s a problem for future-me to deal with.

For now, I’ve decided to move out of the monkey territory. [Living Shadow] makes them simple to take down. Though the ability doesn’t seem to draw upon any of my own energies to activate, it does have a fairly short cooldown period between when I slay its host, when it returns to me, and when I can select a new target for it to [Suppress].

Not to mention, each monkey [Living Shadow] helped me take down gave me a feeling of receiving less experience towards my level, meaning I likely share experience with it whenever it helps me take an opponent down.

Yesterday, I spent quite a bit of time looking over the marketplace, and not a single thing I’ve found has any semblance of a growth rate. Explains why Cori might want to get her hands on [Living Shadow] again. She probably gave it up without knowing how valuable it was, but that’s not my problem.

I don’t mind investing in the little guy. He makes for good company anyway. Quiet, out of sight, but useful and there when you need it. Not to mention, apparently gaining [Shadow Manipulation], which I have no idea how to tap into, is a result of acquiring [Living Shadow].

Makes me curious. What else could I learn from experimenting a bit with it?

As much as that seems fun, I have other matters to attend to. I’ve got plenty of things to experiment with for my greatsword, armor, and variations of the current actives I’ve got. Finding knowledge about the different forms of magic and a status upgrade that shows the amount of both I have might also be a worthwhile endeavor, seeing as I’m going off feel at the moment. Nothing wrong with that, but if I know I’m going into a pinch, I’d much prefer to know what I’m working with.

“Geez, there’s so much to do,” I mutter, rolling out my shoulders and unequipping my sword. With my hands clasped behind my head, I make my way out of the forest and back onto the worn path with the swirling vortex. “I’ve already collected plenty for today, so I think I’ll head back, try to sell some of the stuff I’ve collected, and then start working on fixing my harvesting problem. Then I’ll go through and look at some abilities.”

With a plan in mind, I couldn’t help but be excited to see what today’s efforts would result in. My watch says it’s a couple hours before I’ve got to head back in order to have dinner, shower, and get some sleep. That almost made me stop then and there to go back in the forest.

Going home means the possibility of a Kat encounter, and I’m certain she won’t let the conversation from the night before die down, especially after waking up on the couch with my sheet and blanket.

“Way to make things confusing, Wyatt,” I grumble and head towards the vortex.

I need to make some kind of Coin so I didn’t owe Kahirin in the morning. Depending on what kind of money I end up with, I may even look at upgrading my gear. Sure, I just got them and most of the people I’ve seen don’t have anything more than a weapon, but that doesn’t mean I have to suffer with them.

“Which is all thanks to Kahirin’s advice,” I grumble, sighing. “Women make everything far too difficult. First Kat, then Kahirin, and then Cori.” I blink twice. “It’s gotta do with their names, I bet. Kuh, Kuh, Kuh, beware!”

The journey through the swirling vortex is just as invasive as before, but this time, the vortex sets me out in the entrance at the end of the marketplace. Making my way through, I wonder what I should do. I’ve got a few options.

I can take what I’ve gained to a bank and sell it off there, but I think going to a specialized vendor would earn me more. Do I dump everything and take the bank’s price or put in some effort to get as much as I can?

Simple answer, that. Getting all I can and trading it in for some specific harvesting tools and skills is exactly why I’ve come back so soon. If I could get some kind of minor passive awareness too, I’d be more than happy to call this a great haul for a great day.

With the self-help directory, its cheeriness as cheery as the last time I used it, I’ve got a map of the shopping districts I’ll need. Pretty much anything from Districts F to J are production vendors looking to buy all I’ve got.

Of the countless herbs I plucked from their homes in the magic soil and monkey bits and pieces, I pull in a tidy haul. The average price for each of the dozen herbs I pick comes out to be two Coins, totaling twenty-four big ones. The monkeys would’ve hauled in more, but my shameful skills leave me with little room to bargain. Of the twenty monkeys, I pull in an average of three Coins, and that’s generous, for a sixty Coin monkey haul.

Eighty-four World Coins is more than zero. Putting aside five for Kahirin to pay off my debt to her, I start sectioning off amounts to help me gain more from the next day’s harvest.

Before committing to anything, I head over to District C to see if there are any bundle deals on equipment. Paying full price for anything is lame, though if it’s to make more money, I might be willing to part with my hard-earned coin.

Sure enough, I find what I’m looking for after quite some searching. A bundle deal for [Beginner Mining] and an [Mining Pick] runs for a whole fifteen Coins. Farther down, [Beginner Herbology] and [Herbal Shovel] cost another fifteen Coins. And to follow the pattern, [Beginner’s Butchery] and a [Butchering Knife] for another fifteen Coins, totaling my greatest expenditure as of yet.

Watching my stockpile dwindle faster than I got it doesn’t affect me as much as I thought it would. Forty-five Coins to create a monopoly? I’ll take that trade any day of the week, especially this day.

Other deals are available, of course, but with my limited Coin, I don’t dare look any further. I still want to round out a few of my combat skills so I don’t have to rely on [Living Shadow] so desperately.

Though, a bundle for a [Knight’s Gear] nearly gets me. Sixty Coins for class specific gear? Almost had me! But what I’ve got now is suitable for what I’ll be doing. Being overgeared so early on is just bad practice, I’ll say.

However, redundancies that keep me alive… Tantalizing and tempting as they may be, I manage to walk away. I just bookmark the location in the back of my head and pray to Devil God Yugmuswa that the deal is there later when I want to upgrade everything.

If not, I’ll make do. One way or another, I’ll figure out a way to be rich, powerful, and keep my soul to myself.

Before I leave for the day, I check my EID to see just how much I’ve gained.

Name: Gaian One

Race: Human

Innate Trait: Mental Fortitude (S)

Level: 2 (12)

Class: Dark Knight

Strength: 6

Endurance: 5

Dexterity: 5

Intellect: 5

Wisdom: 4

Available Attributes: 0

Active: Slash (F), Harden (F), Stab (F), Suppress (B)

Passive: Two-Handed Swordsmanship (F), Heavy Armor Handling (F)

Magic: Living Shadow (S), Shadow Manipulator (D), Imbue (E)

Profession Skills: Entrepreneurship (C), Gathering (D), Mining (E), Herbology (E), Butchery (E)

Profession Items: Mining Pick (E), Herbal Shovel (E), Butcher’s Knife (E)

Equipped Items: Greatsword (F), Beginner’s Steel Platemail (F)

Merit: 100

World Coin(s): 39

“That’s starting to look a lot better.” I check my watch and smile. “Just in time, too.”

Then the harsh reality strikes, the ride home on the Bus of Doom.

“I wonder if they’ve got an inn here,” I grumble, making my way towards the exit. I’m sure if I look hard enough I could find a place to stay so I didn’t have to take the Doom Bus to and from the Tower of Abundance every day. “But no, Wyatt, you’re a foolish man who likes to make trouble for yourself. Good job.”

And so, with shaky legs, I get on the Doom Bus.

*

“There has to be a better way.” 

I don’t know if it’s my increased dexterity, but I don’t even stumble getting off the awful bus ride this time around. Won’t stop me from searching for a way to replace that mode of transportation. 

“I wonder if there’s a way to make a portal to the Tower from my room. How convenient would that be?”

As I walk up the steps, I unequip my trusty armor. The blizzard still goes strong, which is even more of a concern for getting on the Bus of Doom. The driving didn’t seem any better or worse today, oddly enough, despite the weather. It’s like horrible is its default, through sleet, rain, storm, or snow.

Once the bus leaves, I look up the steps to the porch. The light comes on, and Kat’s there in the door frame, shivering in her comfy shorts and top.

“Come on! It’s freezing out here!” she calls, to which I look her up and down and resist the urge to roll my eyes.

“Knowing that, you could’ve put on something a bit more appropriate,” I call back and make my way up the path, to the porch, and squeeze my way by her. Once inside, I take off the hoodie and shirt, tossing them in the dirty hamper pile. “Your day to do laundry, or is it mine? Also, what’d you throw together for dinner?”

When she doesn’t respond, I look at her.

Her face is red as a tomato as she looks me up and down. “What is it? First time seeing me with my shirt off?”

“Since when do you look like an Olympic athlete?” she whispers, taking a tentative step closer.

Unfortunately for her, I abide by a firm “look, don’t touch” policy and make my way over to the vanity in the hall. I’ve always looked fit, because working out is important, but this… seems a bit extreme.

Just as she’s said, I look like an Olympian. Not just an athlete, but like a god among men. “Interesting. Must be a part of being Numbered. Increase physical stats, and they manifest as… well, increased physical traits. Like inhuman musculature. Can’t complain much there.”

“Neither can I,” Kat mutters from behind me, pulling out a chair at the table. “Food first, or do you want to shower?”

“Is the food warm?” I ask, contemplating something to warm my chilled core. The Doom Bus doesn’t have any way to keep the snow from the inside. Literally, it’s like they took over public transportation and made it as inhospitable as possible.

“I just finished cooking. Now that I know you’ll be home later, I’ll make sure the food is fresh for you when you get home,” she says, setting two plates of shepherd’s pie on the table with a glass of water for both. She even pulls out a small platter plate and puts some desserts on it. When she sits, she smiles and gestures toward the meal. “Dig in. I made extras, just in case you were hungry. I can’t imagine going to the Towers is an easy thing.”

“It’s easier than you’d think,” I say, taking a hesitant bite. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s made something that looks normal in a way that is definitely not at all normal. But lo and behold, it’s some of the best shepherd’s pie I’ve ever had. “How many years have you taken in culinary school?”

“Did it for my home ec credits for the first two years we’ve been here,” she responds, smiling as I dig in with an appetite I wasn’t aware of before taking a bite. “Glad you like it.”

“So,” I say between bites, “you’ve known how to cook this whole time and just chose to use me as your willing guinea pig?”

“Right,” she admits, shameless as always. Her eyes keep trailing to my shoulders, chest, and stomach. When she meets my gaze, she looks away. “Sorry.”

“If it’s bothering you, I can throw on a shirt.” I begin to rise, but she places a hand on mine to stop me. A shake of her head has me sitting back down and taking another bite, shrugging. “Weirdo.”

“No, you,” she habitually mutters back, blowing on her own steaming food.

“What’s your day look like?” I ask, waving towards the door, walls, and ceiling. “From what I can see, everything is rather different now.” Her look of confusion halts me mid bite. “Unless it’s not?”

“Things are the same as they’ve always been for the Numberless, Wyatt.” She wipes her face with a napkin and sets it beside her plate. “I’ve been going to classes as usual. I had to explain to your teachers why you didn’t show up for school the last two days.”

“Thanks for that. The normal world kind of doesn’t seem real to me anymore. Not after seeing a succubus at the cafe I go to pop up from a hellish looking portal in the ground, take over the baristas’ duties, and then make me coffee.” I frown. “I didn’t tell my parents or sister.”

“I told them and explained how busy you’ve been. They wouldn’t stop calling this morning and woke me up… Thanks for that, by the way,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear, setting her elbow against the table, and then glancing out the window. “I’m sorry for—”

“Don’t.” I wave off her concerns. “Don’t mention it, please.”

“S-sorry.” For several seconds, she looks like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. It passes, and she starts eating again. “Thank you for being my guinea pig all these years, Wyatt. It has meant a lot to me.”

“I know,” I say, taking another bite. Each is better than the last. If this is how she normally cooks, I could get used to this. “Why else would I do it?”

That seems to catch her off guard. She nods, purses her lips, and then pushes her plate away and pulls the platter of desserts closer. Idly, she begins snacking on them.

“Don’t eat too many of those,” I say, scooting the plate away from her after she eats her third brownie. 

I stand to get seconds, but she puts herself in front of me, grabs the plate from my hand, and gestures towards my seat. 

“Got it.”

While I wait, I wonder whether I should call my parents and sister myself to see how they’re doing. My eyes track Kat as she prepares the plate, my gaze trailing over the musculature in her back. When she scoops the food onto the plate, turns, approaches, and sets the plate back down, she does so with such natural grace and elegance.

“What?” she asks as I continue to stare, my eyes casually tracing the lines across her neck, down her collarbone, and then away from her entirely. “You’re always so respectful. It’s no fun, you know?”

“Nope,” I mutter, scarfing down two bites of the shepherd’s pie. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” Remembering what I’d been contemplating initially, I wave my fork at her and launch some mashed potato across the table. “Whoops.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Kat says, jumping up to grab a sponge. Sure enough, she wipes off the table.

“What’s gotten into you?” I can’t help but voice as I realize the whole house is clean, from top to bottom. “You hate cleaning.”

She doesn’t respond until she washes the sponge, returns it to its designated place, and sits again. “I wanted to, so I did.”

“You never want to clean, Kat,” I insist, shaking my head. I hold up a hand. “Before I get distracted, why did my family call?”

“Oh, that…”

“Yes, that.”

She twirls her hair in a loop around her finger, looking away. The face she makes is similar to one she made the night before, and I prepare myself to delve into some heavy topics.

“Why did they call?” I ask again, watching her like a hawk.

When she meets my gaze, tears well in her eyes. She gives a little sniffle, too. “They wanted to talk to you, Wyatt. Why else do family call?”

“Did they tell you what they wanted to talk about?” She clearly does, and it takes all my patience to not get upset with her. “Please tell me.”

“Wyatt, I’m sorry. So sorry,” she whispers.

My mind habitually thinks of the worst that could have happened, that one of my family, my dad, mother, or sister has been designated with a Number and died in the Tower.

I take one of her hands in mine and interlace our fingers. “It’s okay, Kat. Just tell me, okay? Whatever it is, I’ll be okay. Promise.”

She pulls away and stands up, knocking the chair to the floor. “Why are you so nice to me? Why is it weird if I do a nice thing for you every now and again?”

“Kat.” I barely contain myself, but having done so seems to aggravate her even further. “Why did they call?”

“They’re Numberless too, Wyatt, all claimed as your dependents. All four of us, useless to you. A burden that weighs you down,” she says, barely above a whimper.

I rise to my feet and pull her into a hug. “It’s okay, Kat. Whether it’s you or them, I’m more than happy to make sure all of you are taken care of. Okay? None of you are burdens weighing me down. You’re all precious to me.”

“Y-you’re not just saying that?” she asks, curling into me as she has so many times before when she’s upset.

“I’m not just saying that, no,” I say, pulling her closer and resting my chin on the top of her head.

“I-I want to do better, Wyatt,” she whispers, her hands snaking up my chest to wrap around my neck. “I want to be someone worthy of your love.”

I slowly guide her to the couch and have her sit in the middle, then sit in the corner. She crawls her way into my lap, curling close to my chest while holding onto my arms that wrap her like a safety blanket.

Somehow, she even snakes the sheet and cover from the back of the couch and over us, staving off the chill that the heater doesn’t.

“Listen,” I breathe, my racing heart pounding loud enough for me to hear it in my ears, “and hear me when I say this. You don’t need to prove yourself to anybody. Not yourself, not me, not anybody else. Okay? You don’t need to become worthy of my love, Kat. You need to love yourself, and I’ll be the same old Wyatt, supportive as ever.”

“Really?” Like this, she seems so timid and small. So different from the vibrant personality I’ve come to attribute her to, the show she puts on for everyone else. “Are you sure?”

“Look,” I say, lifting the comforter from over us and then letting it drop. “Can you tell me how we got here? Can you tell me how many times we’ve been here before, Kat?”

“No.”

“I stopped counting after I got to a hundred, and that was back in our first year of college together.” I smile, wiping the tear streaks from her face with my thumb and fixing her messy locks that have fallen into her face. “Who else do you know that I’ve given my mom’s number to, let alone my dad and sister?”

She looks up at me now, a small sparkle in her eyes. “Just me?”

“Just you, Kat,” I whisper, giving her a small smile. “Even with all this Tower business, I haven’t changed. Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I’ll take care of you like I always have, even if you don’t want me to, so don’t worry so much.”

“Why am I like this, Wyatt? I don’t understand,” Kat whispers, her voice fading as the emotions pass and she begins to crash into slumber. “I… love you… Wyatt.”

Then she’s asleep. As always, I carefully cradle her in my arms and carry her to her room. Today, she can have my covers. Hopefully they’ll help her stay calm.

I turn the small light from the kitchen on that shines slightly through her cracked door, knowing she hates the dark, and make my way back to my room. My bed calls to me, but I have to replace the sheets and find a new blanket.

Once the bed is set, I strip, shower, throw on some gray sweats, and then fall into the comfort of bedding that smells like Kat. I steel my heart for the chaos of what’s to come and fall into a restless sleep.