Nightclown sidestepped with practiced ease. Letting the monster overshoot him.
As it sailed past, he activated [Stretch!] again. This time, it was his left arms around its exposed, stubby leg. He yanked hard. Sending it tumbling.
BONK!
The sound echoed off the dungeon walls. Before it could recover, Nightclown was on it. Hammering his nunchaku at the familiar weak point in its back.
THUD! THUD! CRACK!
Another shriek. Another deflating collapse.
[Furball Chomper defeated!]
[Experience Gained: +30 XP!]
Nightclown took notes on the differences for the XP gained. When he defeated the Furball Chomper after it was fully transformed, it was +50 XP. When it was partially transformed, +30 XP. When it hadn't transformed, +20 XP.
It seemed like he would have to let these guys transform to gain the best reward. Quite bothersome.
He looked at his opponent.
Only one remained. The one he had first struck. It was now fully transformed. A sphere of muscle and teeth. Enraged. It roared. Pouncing with a full-force [Jumping Bite!].
"Too slow, Big Boy!" Nightclown smirked.
He activated [Shrink!] and [Sprint!] simultaneously. Vanishing from its path, Becoming a blur of motion. And reappearing behind it. He stretched his arm. Entangling its hind legs like a serpent. Tripping it.
As it fumbled, he found the seam on its back. Jammed his weapon in. And twisted.
The high-pitched squeal. The final collapse.
[Furball Chomper defeated!]
[Experience Gained: +50 XP!]
Nightclown exhaled. A small cloud of cartoon vapor appear. That had been efficient. He collected the loots. Scattered coins and one [Chomper's Tooth]. A crafting material.
The [Toon Camera Recorder] captured every triumphant moment.
Nightclown scanned the immediate area. No more Furball Chompers were in sight. He consulted his HUD. Forty-five minutes remained for his daily Toonworld access.
Plenty of time to explore further. He moved deeper into the second floor of the North Dungeon.
The corridors here were twisted. Sometimes narrowing to tight squeezes. Before opening into wider caverns.
The light was still cartoonish bright. With no obvious source. The air smelled surprisingly fresh and earthy. Like damp soil after rain. The dungeon didn't actually make sense in some cases. It was Toonworld after all.
The [Toon Camera Recorder] floated silently behind him. Its single lens swiveling. Capturing every detail of the shifting cartoon environment.
His luck for finding treasure was absent today. No shimmering chests. No hidden alcoves with glowing objects. Only more Furball Chompers. They were the primary inhabitants here. He encountered them in small groups. Usually two or three.
Each encounter followed a similar pattern. A rustling from shadows. A flash of deceptively cute, fluffy forms. Then, aggression.
Nightclown engaged them methodically. He had learned the lesson from earlier. He let them transform. Fully. To maximize his experience gain.
He used [Sprint!] and [Shrink!] to evade their initial [Jumping Bite!] attacks after they underwent their [Morphing Shift!].
The cute furballs would expand. Their soft forms were swelling and hardening, a massive maw splitting their face. Revealing rows of jagged teeth. They became spheres of muscle and aggression.
Nightclown would then trip them with his [Stretch!]. And use his [Wild Nunchaku] to target their weak point. The exposed seam on their backs.
He repeated this process over and over. Fight. Evade. Strike. Defeat. Collect loot. More coins. Accumulating steadily. More [Chomper's Teeth] too. Although not every Chomper dropped one. And, the experience points added up.
After approximately thirty minutes of this routine, a different notification flashed in his HUD.
[Furball Chomper defeated!]
[Experience Gained: +50 XP!]
[You have gained a Level!]
[Current Level: 11]
It was harder to level up now. After he reached level 10. Later in the higher levels, it might need months to get one level.
He continued exploring for another ten minutes. Clearing one more cluster of Chompers. His inventory showed [Chomper's Teeth (x16)] and a respectable stack of Toon Coins.
The [Toon Camera Recorder] had been busy. Its memory was filled with more than an hour's worth of environment scenes, combat footage, evasive maneuvers, and creature defeat.
And then, the time was up.
The vibrant colors of Toonworld dissolved. The fresh earthy smell vanished. The bright dungeon was replaced by the familiar darkness of his bedroom.
Nightclown was gone. Jester Eventide lay in his bed. The Toonworld Watch on his palm. The [Wild Nunchaku] and [Toon Camera Recorder] in his system inventory.
He exhaled slowly. The faint citrus scent of his Sherra bedroom was now dominant. Another day in Toonworld was completed.
...
The next morning, Jester woke early. As usual. Even before the sun appeared.
He went through his routine. Intense exercise. A quick shower. Breakfast of toast, sausage, and a couple of eggs...
He then packed his backpack. Ensuring his notebooks and writing implements were squared away. And his spare clothing. Rogue classes in the afternoon often drenched his clothes in sweat after all.
He left his small home. Locking the door behind him. The crisp morning air was a familiar comfort.
Oakhaven was waking up. Shops were opening. The alluring scent of bread from the baker was already wafting down the street. People walked briskly. Heading to work or school.
Jester walked towards the academy. His mind had already shifted from Toonworld tactics to academic schedules.
The morning classes passed quickly. Standard Common Languages and Physics. Jester paid attention. Taking notes when required. Although he had already known many things in the lessons.
After lunch, the specialized classes began. Jester, along with Finn and Sunny, made their way to the Rogue Training Wing.
This section of the academy was less ornate. More practical. Bare walls. Padded training rooms. And a general air of quiet efficiency.
Their first Rogue class of the afternoon was 'Sleight of Hand & Distraction'. Mr. Husher was already present. He was the same stealthy figure from 'Stealth Mastery'.
Lean and tall. With short-cropped grey hair. And sharp, assessing eyes that missed nothing. He wore dark, practical clothing that seemed to blend with the shadows even in a well-lit room.
His movements were economical. He reminded Jester of a seasoned military scout. Constantly aware of his surroundings.
"Alright!" Mr. Husher began without preamble. His gaze were sweeping over the three students. "Today, we delve into the art of misdirection. The essence of a rogue isn't just stealth. It's control. Control of perception. Control of attention."
He walked to a table. Picking up a small, polished wooden box. "Manual dexterity. Petty thievery. These are often associated with rogues. But the underlying principles apply to much more."
His eyes glinted. "Either when you pick your opponent pocket, or plant evidence, or create an opening in combat, or simply vanish from sight unnoticed... It's all about where you want the opponent to look, and where you don't."
"First. Basic dexterity drills." He pulled out three small, smooth stones from his pocket. "Each of you, take one. We'll start with palming. Concealing an object in plain sight. It's about natural movement. Not rigid grip."
Jester took a stone. It fit comfortably in his palm. Mr. Husher demonstrated. Making the stone appear and disappear with fluid, almost imperceptible movements.
Jester had his natural prankster's inclination and his developing Toonworld dexterity. He found the motion surprisingly intuitive. He practiced. Making the stone seem to vanish behind his fingers. Then reappear as if by sleight-hand magic.
He observed his classmates. Finn struggled initially. His movements were too stiff. Sunny picked it up faster. Though his gestures were a bit too flashy at first.
Mr. Husher circled. Offering blunt feedback. "Good Eventide! Try to do it with another hand. Fieldson! Relax your wrist. Ravensky! Less flourish. More natural integration."
They spent the first half-hour on palming.
Jester quickly became proficient. Able to transfer the stone between hands. Make it vanish. And seemingly produce it from thin air.
"Good enough for now." Mr. Husher finally declared. "Next, misdirection with attention. The eye follows movement. The ear follows sound. We exploit this. Forget about stealing anything. Focus on directing attention."
He presented a more complex exercise. He set up a small obstacle course of sorts, with various objects placed on tables and pedestals.
Their task... move an item from many in the designated spot to another. Under his direct observation. Without him noticing the transfer.
"You're not allowed to physically obscure the item with your body." Mr. Husher instructed. "Your hands must be visible. Use movement, sound, or a direct verbal prompt to divert my attention for the briefest moment. Then execute the transfer."
Finn went first. He tried to cough loudly and move the item during the sound. Mr. Husher simply twitched an eyebrow.
"Too obvious, Fieldson. No transfer."
Sunny tried a more subtle approach. Fumbling with his school bag. While his other hand moved the item.
"Better." Mr. Husher grunted. "But your eyes betrayed you. You looked at the item you were moving. Your audience watches your eyes."
Jester stepped up. He paused. As if thinking. He looked at Mr. Husher. Then at an item. A small, ornamental dagger.
"Sir!" Jester said. A casual tone was in his voice. "If I want to move this dagger, do I have to hold it? Or is it okay to just flick it away?"
Mr. Husher blinked. And automatically look at the dagger.
In that split second of Mr. Husher's attention shifting to the dagger, to process the question, Jester's hand smoothly moved. Picking up a brooch and placed it on the target pedestal. Without looking at it at all.
The movement was fluid. Integrated with his posture. So that it was nearly invisible.
Mr. Husher's eyes immediately snapped back to the scan the whole table. One object was missing. Then to the new spot. The object was there.
He gave a slow nod. "Clever. Using a distraction that engages the mind. Not just the senses. Good. Very good, Eventide."