Cropfield Nutria, Level 1
I scream in sudden shock and back away, stomping the tall grass. Michael, the tall, thin man, reacts immediately—he jumps to my side and strikes the rat on the head and eyes with his flexible stick.
His girl watches closely, clutching the fluffy ball.
Did I just scream like a little girl? I assume based on the suspicious smirk on Mike’s face.
The red bar over the creature''s head shrinks about one-tenth of its length and I blink slowly in disbelief, trying to comprehend what just happened.
I’m still baffled about the floating AR panels, not to mention the progress bars of health. I guess I should stop being useless.
It''s my turn now.
“Items!” I say loudly and take out my carved walking stick. The expanding animation of the stick that slowly grows in my hands is priceless.
Meanwhile, the black jacket covers my view as Mike fully takes over the combat. All I hear are rat-like screeches and the smacking and whistling of a flexible hazel rod in the air.
I move aside and another suspicious wave is coming toward me.
“This will be it!”
Timing my hit precisely, I smash the bulge with all my strength. It makes a muffled blunt sound.
I expected some screeching, but nothing. Did I just? That simply?
*Fwoosh*
The fat rat jumps out of the grass, and its curved teeth are aiming for my lower half.
Surprisingly, avoiding this clumsy attack, I smack the beast in the middle of the head.
*Muffled bonk*
It is resistant. The solid heavy skull and thick fur must have absorbed the blow, as the health bar did not shrink that much.
Based on a brief calculation, this thing will go down with more than ten heavy hits.
*Smash*
After another blow, the creature extends fully from the grass, and I analyze its build: it is dirty and fat with tiny sharp paws and a large head connected to the body without any significant neck.
As I choose now to aim for its furry body, after one bang, a dust cloud emerges.
I scoff a little, as this reminds me of some old duvets.
“Another one!” Astrid, the pale girl, screams while holding Pocco.
I turn around to the next creature, but it''s already too late. Nutria quickly rushes and bites my beige sweatpants.
A bit of rage fills my head as the creature leaves a hole in my pants.
*Bang, bang, bang*
I furiously smash it with all the strength I have in me.
"Damnit!" The fat body absorbs the hits very well, if my stick weren''t so thick, it would be broken already.
Meanwhile, Michael notices I have to deal with two of them, so he proceeds to dodge and slash the first one faster over the snout and the eyes.
While avoiding clumsy jump attacks, I notice the red bar over Michael’s one. It’s almost fully depleted now, and the creature just stops moving after the last hit.
He joins me and helps with the second one as I furiously beat the third.
After a consecutive chain of heavy thuds, it''s done.
Depleted health bar and the creature laying on the ground lifeless.
<hr>
"Jesus, this is horrible," I conclude, my eyes watery.
I never ever hit a living thing in my life, not to mention killed.
The only excuse now is that they attacked first. Their bodies are strong and bulky, yet they seem to be pretty weak and dumb. Why didn’t they run away?
As the grass blades move in the air I see that there are more incoming, and I decide to let one of them come close and start attacking first.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Shitty way of justifying my actions, but if it makes me feel better, then why not.
As their paws bury inside the thick fabric of my pants, I can feel the sting on my knee. This small amount of pain makes me smack the beast with my heavy baton.
*Bang*
After a few hits, I notice that the beast is getting physically slower, not only does the health bar shrink.
*Swoosh, bonk, bang and smash*
Seven more blows over the head and body while slowly backing with a hole in my pants.
The beast is stunned for a brief moment, and that is my chance for a finishing move. I switch my grip on the stick to both hands and smash it from over my head, giving it the final bash!
*Ding*
"The hell?"
The sound of a tiny bell over my head? I wonder for a moment.
“Hey, ehm, Michael. Did you hear that too?”
“What? Just call me Mike, man,” he answers while standing over the lifeless body.
“Astrid, you?” She shakes her head.
Strange. I look up in the sky.
What if?
"Skills!"
Opening my Skills menu, there is on the top right corner another small field near my level.
It says +1. So level 1 +1.
“Err, I think I got a level up. Is the Nutria in front of you dead?” I ask him.
Mike pokes the unconscious rat with the stick and asks me for something sharp. He’s probably seen my petite knife earlier.
Astrid looks concerned for a second.
Taking out my knife, with a brief hesitation, unfolding it, I offer it with the grip facing toward him.
Is he going to do what I think he is? Stab the creature with this?
Astrid waits eagerly, frowning.
He flips his stick and uses my knife to grate the thick end of his stick into a sharp tip.
“Seriously, Mikey..?” Pale girl has no time to finish her sentence.
*Tschchk*
In the neck is where the pointy stick ends. The last squeal we hear from the suddenly awakened beast is kinda disturbing.
“Yeah, I hear it!” Mike shouts, way too excited.
I observe him as he mutters and wonder if he takes this seriously or not.
“Hmm, hmm, hmpf, I think, I think, let’s assign this to, no idea what does what. Agility! So let it be.”
I notice his legs twitch a little when he does so.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 36.6613%" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Michael Ambers </td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">foreigner</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">level 2</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Strength</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Agility</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Willpower</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">2</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Endurance</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
Now it’s my turn.
With my plate opened, I tap, hover, and hold my fingers over the stats to get any feedback, but it’s not interacting. No labels nor captions. Guess I need to blindly choose.
“I will put mine in strength,” I say out loud.
A bit concerning is that I found giving those strong attacks weirdly amusing.
Right after pointing my finger over the plus button near strength, I feel my arms slightly stiffen for a fraction of a second. Almost like a convulsion, but weaker. Or maybe it’s all just a placebo.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 36.6613%" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Markus Hale</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">foreigner</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">level 2</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Strength</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">5</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Agility</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">3</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Willpower</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Endurance</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">3</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
“What?!” Astrid asks madly, while Mike gazes at her.
“You know what.”
Two nutrias are casually laying on the ground, hyperventilating.
“Forget this!” She turns around while resting her hand on Pocco''s head.
Mike does not hesitate and suggests we split on the remaining two.
I nod and flip out my knife to copy his move - quickly sharpening one end of my stick.
*Squelch*
I don’t dare to aim for the eye as it makes me way too uncomfortable, so my sharp tip buries inside its small ear.
No bell sounds though.
“Nothing, right? We need more!” Mike tells me, and I nod.
Astrid just scoffs.
Can’t deny I’m in a bit of shock, but this guy enjoys it way too much.
<hr>
I walk behind the couple, Pocco is left on his own and joins me for a little stroll.
I overhear that Mike is explaining to Astrid some default gaming mechanics.
I watch the grass closely for any incoming waves.
<hr>
After a few dozens steps, another nutria pops out, rushing at me.
“Pocco!” Astrid doesn''t even need to call him; the fluffy cat strides back toward her and jumps into her arms.
*Smash*
My heavy stick with a bloody pointed end hits the creature over the snout.
*Crack*
My attack is blocked as it opens its mouth wide, biting around my stick, locking it around.
"Hey!"
Mike rushes in an instant and pokes it in the eyes. The beast squeals but still does not let loose my stick, and one more pops out from behind, probably a reaction to the squealing.
“Dammit! How long will they keep coming?” I mutter through my teeth.
Mike flicks it over the snout so hard a small fissure forms and starts to leak blood.
I wonder why he is not trying to stab it with the pointy end but rather torture the thing. Blood is pouring down the mouth of the nutria and all the way down over my stick.
He continues to flick and smash it while I wiggle my stick.
When the health bar is almost completely depleted, the beast finally faints.
“Go!” He orders me to take on the second nutria so I make some distance while backing away from it, calculating the perfect stab.
I refuse to risk getting bitten again or locking my weapon in its mouth.
"Three, two, one..."
*Tschchk!*
Wild screeching resonates as the heavy beast thrashes on the ground. I use all my body weight to lean on the stick, burying it even more inside its body.
“Aargh!”
*Thud*
The stick goes through the fat belly of the nutria and buries in the ground, pinning the beast.
It probably got stuck in between the bones first, but I pushed as strongly as I could, the health bar is annihilated within seconds, and I hear a satisfying *Ding.*
“Now or never,” Mike says to the approaching Astrid.
She hesitates, but he is persistent, handing her his stick.
That''s the time I notice how her hands are small and brittle; she is struggling just to hold the thing steady. Pointing at the creature''s neck, she closes her eyes and stabs.
*Tschchk*
She drops the stick afterwards, looking away.
<hr>
The wind starts to blow against us, and a lot of suspicious waves over the tall grass are incoming.