CHAPTER TEN
The Methamatics
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
✓ NOTIFICATION
Achievement Unlocked:First Blood
Stat Points:+5
Exp:+5
You have leveled up!
Current Level:1 → 2
Stat Points:+5
Stat Points Available: 10
System: Combat Evaluation Complete. Target eliminated with suboptimal weapon. Efficiency: 42%. Resourcefulness: 900%.
Projection Model Updated. Host performance exceeds baseline metrics.
Translation: You were supposed to die. You didn't. You're either a genius or a fluke. Probably both.
Abo collapsed onto the cave floor, or whatever counted as one. Jagged stone dug into his raw skin. He let out a rough grunt, breath uneven, every small movement sparking pain as his flesh struggled to heal.
"Correction," he growled. "We were supposed to die. I did the stabbing. You owe me rent, System."
System: Rent acknowledged. Initiating compensation sequence.
⚡ QUEST UNLOCKED ⚡
BLOOD DEBT
Type: Revenge/Extermination
🎯 Objective:
Kill 50 Goblins (0/50) Kill 30 Direwolves (0/30) Kill 10 Orcs (0/10)
Reward: ???
Time Limit: 24 hours
Note: They stepped on you like a bug. Time to return the favor.
FAILURE CONDITIONS
Death before completion → Penalty enforced Refusal to accept → Automatic System Override
FAILURE PENALTY
You will be forcibly reincarnated as the Saiyan infant 'Kakarot,' son of Bardock, on a dying planet named Vegeta. Your current personality, including your foul mouth, cynicism, and undiagnosed PTSD will be preserved. Unfortunately, it will be trapped in a babbling baby body.
You will be rocketed to Earth, bonk your head on a rock, suffer traumatic amnesia, and grow up believing in friendship, power of love, and the sanctity of push-ups. Your sarcasm will be overwritten by shonen protagonist energy. You will smile. You will protect. You will wear orange.
There is no escape. Your legacy will echo through time as: Kame… ha… me… ha
Abo stared at the glowing quest window, his face cycling through several expressions of disbelief. "Are you serious?"
Abo blinked at the floating text... once, twice. "…You've lost your damned mind," he muttered.
He tried to laugh as it came out a phlegmy wheeze. "I'm an infant and you want me to massacre a legion?"
It wasn't exactly a legion, but it felt about right. He lifted a limp arm and gestured to his corpse-body: knees shaking, ribs bruised, flesh bruised.
"Look at me, I can't even walk in a straight line. I have to psych myself up just to fart, and now you're assigning me genocide."
✓ NOTIFICATION
Original quest design: Modest Extermination
Divine Overwrite Detected.
Interference by Higher Beings: CONFIRMED
They are currently watching. And laughing
System: They took my balanced starter quest, crumpled it like trash, and replaced it with "The Gods' Attempt at Comedy." They're not even subtle about it. They're basically telling me to kill myself.
Abo's jaw twitched. He picked at the dried goblin blood crusted on his shovel. "I came here to maim a couple of the screeching green bastards. Maybe break their bones, maybe wear one of their teeth as a necklace. Not wage war against a kennel full of monsters."
But then his eyes drifted down to the penalty. He read it again, slower this time, as if he could undo it by understanding it too well.
His voice broke. "…So if I die, I fail. And if I refuse… I die, which also means I fail."
A pause.
"And if I fail…"
He didn't finish the thought. "You're going to kill me, stuff my soul back into a screaming babe, again. But this time, they give me brain damage and fill me with kindness?"
He looked nauseated. "You mean to scrub me clean, burn out my hatred, and replace it with hope."
He let the silence hang. Then said, in utter horror: "... And dress me in colors I wouldn't be caught dead in?"
"I'd rather be stepped on again, by an orc, in sandals... while it sings."
He stared at his twitching, blood-slick baby hands: such small tools for slaughter. There was no choice. Rebirth meant oblivion of the worst kind. Abo squinted up at the flickering blue screen.
"Is this what the Gods meant by the price for rewriting the code for the... uh... the... eyeball scrambling panel?"
System: Affirmative. The Visual Effects.
Abo screamed, though it sounded like an infant having a tantrum. He flailed, rolled over, smacked his head into the cave floor, then immediately regretted it and did it again out of spite. He kicked a rock, the rock won. He tried to stand, slipped, and faceplanted. Then rolled the other way and did it again. Until he was just lying there, twitching.
The screen floated peacefully above him. He flipped it off with both hands this time. The gesture came from an emote buried in the flood of RPG knowledge the System gave him.
"The Gods want genocide?" His voice sharpened. "Fine, I'll give it to them."
His fingers curled into a fist so tiny and tragic it was almost cute. "I'll do it because you left me no way out, and if that's all I have, I'll make damn sure it hurts to watch."
Another long pause. "…Also, if I so much as smile without hatred in my heart, please kill me."
The System responded with a cheerful ping.
QUEST ACCEPTED
System: Would you like to allocate your stat points now?
Abo rolled his eyes. "Status window."
✦
◆ STATUS WINDOW ◆
NAME: Grey
LEVEL: 2
RACE: Undead (Unknown)
AGE: 3 Days
AFFINITY: Dark
CLASS: Unavailable (Locked until Level 10)
◈ COMBAT STATISTICS ◈
POW: 7
SPD: 4
DEF: 0
Perception: 42
INT: 27
Willpower: 20
CHAR: -2
Luck: -999
Health: 15 / 110
Mana: 0
Stamina: 0
Unallocated Points: 10
◈ PASSIVE SKILLS ◈
- Heightened Senses ©
+35% sensory acuity (sight, hearing, smell). Time slows slightly (0.5s) upon nearby aggression. Detect moving enemies within 15m. Detect large enemy groups within 500m if they're noisy or moving in formation.
- Stealth Mastery (F)
-10% sound, +5% concealment.
Battle Instinct (E)
+30% POW/SPD when HP < 20%.
- Regeneration (Unique)
5 HP/min (10 HP/min when immobile) Certain substances may accelerate tissue restoration. Analysis inconclusive.
- Blind Reaper (Title)
Passive fear aura (-10% enemy perception)
◈ ACTIVE SKILLS ◈
- Shadow Step (F)
Instantly teleport up to 3m behind a visible enemy.
(CD: 12s | Cost: 10)
- Assassinate (F)
Attack from stealth ignores 40% of target's DEF.
(CD: 35s | Cost: 20)
- Tactical Command (F)
Exert command presence. Allies within 15 meters gain +10% Speed and +5% Perception for 8 seconds. Scales with Charisma or Presence. Ineffective on hostile units.
(CD: 30s | Cost: 20)
- Possession (???)
Allows the player's soul to enter or exit their bound vessel at will.
Note: Possession of other entities is not permitted.
(CD: 0 | Cost: 0)
◈ PROGRESSION ◈
Current EXP: 0 / 59
Quests Available: Blood Debt
✦
Abo's brows furrowed deeper. "Fucking hell! Now that I'm looking at it again, how the hell am I supposed to use my active skills with zero Mana?"
He jabbed a stubby finger at the interface, muttering, "Shadow Step costs fifteen. Assassinate? Twenty-five. Tactical Command? Fifteen. What exactly am I commanding?"
He let out a ragged exhale and added, "The only thing I'm leading into battle is my fake-ass breathing. You know I'm holding that manually, right? Just so I don't freak people out."
His tone dropped to a bitter murmur. "My paranoid ass thinks I'll bump into some dumbass people. They see a pale, shovel-wielding baby that doesn't breathe? They'd gut me on the spot."
Then his eyes locked onto the final skill. "And what the fuck is Possession? Says I can 'enter or exit' my body at will, but I can't possess anything else? What kind of idiot wrote this?"
System: Skill [Possession] was conferred upon soul-to-corpse tethering event. External override permissions are restricted. Functionality: intra-body displacement only. Strategic applications: latent. Projected utility: high. Current user understanding: insufficient.
Abo flicked open the stat allocation tab. "Well, Mana's a lost cause," he muttered. "Even if I dumped all ten points into it, I couldn't afford a single damn skill. Might as well lean into what does work." Abo glared at the status window. "Alright, screw it. Mana's a dead-end, Stamina's a cosmetic feature. I don't even need lungs let alone endurance. And Defense? I heal faster than a cockroach scorched in fire," he muttered. "Only thing that makes sense is making myself hit harder and move faster. I'm mastering the art of the war-shovel."
He dragged five stat points into Power and five more into Speed, each one sliding into place with a satisfying click.
⮞ / ➤ STAT POINTS ALLOCATED
Current Distribution:
Pow +5
Speed +5
Remaining Points: 0
SYSTEM ANALYSIS
Stat allocation complete.
Recalculating host profile…
Projected close-quarters lethality increased by 37%.
Projected evasion and disengage success rate increased by 21%.
He stood up, then froze. Even without eyes in his past life, he'd lived by tension, breath, and the way air held its silence. The thin strands of hair on his infant body stood on end.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
His heartbeat kicked into double-time. Something was coming.
Abo pressed a stubby hand to his chest, lips tightening. "System," he muttered, "Give it to me straight. How many crusty bastards are crawling around in here? Because if I end up facing a goddamn army, I swear to all the pantheons, I will piss myself."
ℹ SYSTEM NOTICE
Remaining Hostile Entities within Cave Structure: 90
Breakdown: 50 Goblins, 30 Direwolves, 10 Orcs.
Cluster detected. Dungeon Break has funneled remaining enemies toward your position.
Behavioral Pattern: Coordinated Swarm.
ETA: Imminent.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
He'd assumed the quest would be a slow grind: pick off stragglers, ambush scouting groups, maybe choke a few goblins in their sleep. Not this. Not ninety bloodthirsty freaks marching in formation toward his rotting baby ass. The gods weren't just screwing him over. They were doing it with enthusiasm.
A distant rumble shook the cave as footsteps approached, claws scraped against stone, and weapons clinked together. They were still far, but getting closer fast.
"Yeah, feels about right." He could sense them moving.
"I remember that thing you dumped in my skull. That... that M-meth—"
System (annoyed): Mathematics.
"Right,methamatics." He squinted. "And XP. That's the thing that makes me stronger, right?"
He crouched and began scratching lines into the dirt with his shovel. "Fifty goblins, thirty wolves, ten orcs. Give me the XP breakdown."
✦
SYSTEM CALCULATION
Processing combat experience data... Applying undead modifier penalties…
[CURVE FORMULA]
XP Required = (n³ + 10n) × 1.5
(n = current level | Undead Penalty: ×1.5)
[ENEMY XP VALUES] (Base Level 10 Enemies)
Goblin (×50): 12 XP each
Direwolf (×30): 38 XP each
Orc (×10): 56 XP each
Total XP Pool:2,300 XP
[PROGRESSION OUTCOME]
COMBAT GAINS: 2,300 XP (50 Goblins ×12 + 30 Direwolves ×35 + 10 Orcs ×80)
FINAL LEVEL: Level 8 (2,317/3,715 XP to Level 10)
Progress to Level 8:1.06%
Level 2 (17 XP) / Level 8 (1598XP)
Note: Combat XP may vary slightly (±5-10%) due to minor level discrepancies in enemies.
✦
Abo stared at the dirt, then at the darkness, then back at the dirt.
"…So I murder ninety creatures in a blind cave death. I swing my poor, loyal shovel until my arms fall off, and I still don't hit Level 9?"
System: Affirmative..
He stood up slowly. "Why!?"
System: Because you are an Undead abomination violating the natural order. There are penalties.
He dragged a hand down his face, leaving a smear of mud. "So I'm being taxed for being a walking error?"
System: Affirmative. Undead Penalty: 1.5× EXP Requirement.
Compensatory Perks: Poison immunity, infinite stamina, regenerative tissue, and negligible aging.
Abo rested the shovel across his shoulder, like a soldier heading into a war he never signed up for. He muttered under his breath, voice low and bitter.
"Right. Ninety enemies, no mana, no ranged skills, no armor. Just a half-rotted baby corpse, a dented shovel, and whatever's left of my spite."
He glanced up at the sky. "Was this supposed to be funny?"
System: If I could override it, I would've patched this mess ten prompts ago.
But when the Gods hard-code something? Even I can't touch it. They'd just snap their divine fingers and roll it back.
They're petty like that.
He didn't reply.
ℹ SYSTEM NOTICE
Prepare for incoming enemies. Nearest swarm will arrive in 3 minutes. Suggest repositioning.
"Three minutes." Abo said, starting to move.
He pressed into a slim crevice along the cave wall and scanned his environment. Broken terrain, uneven elevation, one central choke point where the horde would have to funnel through. No lichen grew this far from the rift; the mana too thin to sustain them. Almost… perfect.
"Well then," he muttered. "If I'm hitting Level 6 from this, that's four levels gained. Twenty stat points."
"Break it down for me."
ℹ SYSTEM NOTICE
Stat Points Per Level: 5
Levels Gained: 6
Total Unallocated Points: 30
Recommended Allocation:
— Pow & Speed: +15
Result: Balanced focus on high burst damage and evasion; shovel efficiency and mobility prioritized for solo close-combat survival.
"Thirteen Power, seven Speed…" Abo repeated, nodding. "So I hit harder, move faster, and still die horribly if I stop moving for three seconds."
His eyes flicked over the floating stat window. "System, auto-allocate on level-up from now on. "
System: Acknowledged. Optimization Protocol: Ongoing.
He cracked his neck, and tightened his grip around the shovel. "I'll bury every last one of them."
He drove the tip of the shovel into the ground with a solid thud. "One swing at a time."
✦ ✦ ✦
End of Chapter