《Mr. Smith CAN'T UNDERSTAND!》 1. Whats my name? Mr. Smith stared as the farmer doubled over laughing, sleightly agape. The farmer had spoken a strange language, which sounded like both japanese and russian at the same time. So Mr. Smith did the practical thing he''d seen in films, which was to point at himself and say his own name, "John Smith," and the farmer burst out laughing, as if it was the funniest thing he''d ever heard in his life. John Smith was not amused. He clicked his tongue, and frowned in displeasure at this strange farmer who didn''t seem to be taking him seriously. He was here standing in a field in his suit and tie. He was lost, so terribly terribly lost. So he frowned again, hoping his facial expression would communicate his massive displeasure at the situation. The harder he frowned, the harder the farmer laughed. It seemed they were at an impasse! -------------------------------------------------------------- "Johnnn..." the farmer said, pointing into the smelly hole inside his outhouse, and John Smith''s eyebrows shot through the roof in final understanding. "How undignified," muttered John Smith staring down the whole, into the disgusting pit, rank with the smell of human excrement, which was now a synonym for his first name. "Oh how undignified, I''ll have to go by Mr. Smith from now on, if I don''t want more people laughing at me." Mr. Smith sighed dramatically, and choked on the inbreath of the rank air, stumbling out into the evening light, coughing horrendously. The farmer Tikjab slapping him on the back goodnaturedly. The farmer Tikjab seemed like a nice enough fellow at least. They''d been trading language back and forth, pointing at various things for hours, and the farmer, still had a smile on his face. He was a lean weathered man with a gap toothed grin and greying hair, wearing overalls, and a straw hat. His wife was plump woman, who had also laughed in John''s face, at his poop name, or maybe tittered or giggled a bit at least. "Why is this happening to me," John remarked to the ceiling of the farmer''s house, pulling the old blanket closer around him. Running over the events of the previous day in his mind, John tried to understand where it had all gone wrong. He had woken up early that morning, to hopefully close a deal on a new property for a rich client. He''d been going back and forth with the owner, and gotten him down to a reasonable ballpark number. The house was off in the foothills near boulder colorado, sitting at the top of a rise, with a beautiful view of the plains stretching out into the distance. John had let himself in, with the extra key, and begun wandering around, waiting for the owner to arrive. The owners father had collected a myriad of ancient and interesting treasures from around the world, and the house looked like a mix between museum, and an episode of horders. He was wading through a veritable mishmash of old junk, in one forgotten room, and spotted an old wardrobe that looked like a valuable antique. He examined it closely, appreciating the fine finished dark wood, waxed and intricately carved into strange patterns and symbols spread across every surface, even the legs and door handles. He''d never seen anything quite like it. It didn''t look chinese, or european, maybe it was african? But, africa wasn''t known for its antique wardrobes. He waded over, through the piles of miscelaneous stuff, being as carful as he could. But as he opened it, entranced by the carvings, a giant statue of an eagle made of marble, wobbled precariously on top. The eagle statue tilted, falling as if in slow motion, its ruby eyes reflecting in the dim light, like a murderous predator diving in for the kill.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Its stone beak struck Mr. Smith a great blow to the head, and he fell over unconscious into the old wardrobe. The door closing him inside with a creek, as his blood flowed into the relief carvings, and mysterious symbols on the inside of the mysterious object. He remembered a falling sensation, as if he was falling upward into a great tunnel, unable to breathe or even think, as a pain greater than he could ever imagine tore through his mind and soul. He remembered a blue light brigher than he could possibly imagine searing into his mind, as if those occult symbols on the wardrobe had come to life and become a god, omnipotent and omniscient and omnipresent. The radient blue symbols spiraling out into the darkness froze his mind, as if he was Bill Gates presenting the newest version of windows, or neo being pulled out of the matrix. The socket unpluged. It felt like death, or maybe it was. "Did I actually die?" he thought to himself, then how am I still alive. The next thing he knew, he was stumbling out of a forest into Tikjab''s field, and saying "Hey I''m poop, what''s your name?" In a suit and tie. He forwned, focusing on the falling sensation, meditating on the radiant symols as he was drifting off to sleep. That''s where everything had started to go wrong. He drifted into the sensation, and it felt like he was falling up out of his body. Just like if you tip a chair back sleightly too far, and start to fall backwards. His eyes sprang open, revealing a blue screen floating in front of his face. Gah! he screamed, softly.
Ding! UnlockedLegendaryClass: System Traveler
Would you like to accept theLegendary Class System Traveler Yes/No?
What the ****, he swore, staring at the floating boxes, his eyebrows shooting up up into space. {0____o) "I don''t understand, I don''t understand, I don''t understand," John Smith muttered into the night, finally falling asleep, but dreaming of mysterious blue boxes that chased after him, calling him poop, and stabbing him with a pitchfork,. He ran and ran, endlessly in his dream, trying to explain to the blue boxes, that he didn''t understand, but they just kept stabbing him with pitchforks, and calling him poop, and it hurt, as he fell upwards into a great tunnel. A Vast expanse of blue energy greeted him like a nebula in a stary galaxy. He floated through it breathing it in, and it energized him, filling him with potential. It felt like he drifted half sleep for hours, then days, before he felt like a buble ready to burst. Spotting a silver cord, he followed it back, and down through a great tunnel. ----------------------------------------------------- Mr. Smith woke up with a start. "Gah!" he screeched. "I don''t understand, I don''t understand, I don''t understand, what is happening." He breathed raggedly, staring at the mysterious blue boxes the assaulted his vision.
Ding! You have seen the System and imprinted it onto your soul. You can absorb mana directly from the ethereal plane - Title unlocked: System Node [+50% experience gain through all sources, Basic Permissions Unlocked]
Ding! By absorbing mana directly through the ethereal plane you have gained the Title: Ether tapped [regain mana 1000% faster than normal] (DANGER!Ethereal beasts can sense you)
Ding! Unlocked Hidden UniqueClass: System Technician
Would you like to accept theHiddenUnique Class: System Technician Yes/No?
But Mr. Smith did not understand. He had never played games, he didn''t know what a Status was, or a Class, or even experience points. He was a clueless, normal person trapped in a game like world who really just wanted to go back to doing high value real estate sales transactions. His mind was a blank, and his frown was never going to turn upside down, because Mr. Smith did not understand. And, he was annoyed, because in this world his first name meant poop. ---------------------------------------------------------- 2. Yipee Kayee Mr. Smith was not wearing his nice suit and tie. He was wearing itchy scratchy uncomfortable roughspun britches and tunic, and he was frowning because of it. Tikjab had managed with wild gestures and gesticulation, to get him out of his nice comfortable crisp modern clothing, and into this travesty upon his baby soft skin. How could ancient peoples have worn this uncormfortable getup, he thought. Well they didn''t have a choice did they, he answered himself curtly, frowning furiously. He scratched an itch, and sighed deeply. Through the various gestures, Tikjab had explained that his suit would have frightened the other villagers or made them angry or something. The farmer just kept jumping around and making gastly face in response to John''s wardrobe, and then either stabbing him with an imaginary sword, or running away in terror. After much hemming and hawwing, Mr. Smith was unceremoniously stripped out of his nice modern ware, and into something resembling slavery in ancient egypt. Or maybe they didn''t have to wear clothes, because it was so hot there, what he wouldn''t give to be in ancient egypt, or at least somewhere that made sense. In the end he was decidedly uncomfortable, and he was unsure as to why he was going to meet the other inhabitants of the area. Tikjab had tried to explain, with much squawking and kernigling, and gesturing to his mouth with a surprised expression. Like "Oh! Now I finally understand what you were trying to tell me, that pigs can in fact fly, in this gods forsaken place." Or some other such nonsense. In the end John Smith, had been guided, proded, poked, and put into a wholy new pickle, where he was uncomfortable hiking along and a well worn path through the forest, beside an annoyingly chipper farmer, babbling on in his strange language with a smile on his weathured face. --------------------------------- The whole in the end of the hookah pipe, stared forlornly into John''s vacant soul. He looked up at the family, who stared back at him expectantly. They all sat around a blazing fire pit in the middle of some old stone houses. An old woman with a headress of beads and feathers was poking him with the peace pipe, and it uncomfortably reminded him of the few times he''d gone to parties in college. At such parties, he was inevitably handed such things to drink or smoke or in other words alter his perception of reality in some uncomfortable way or another. Mr. Smith didn''t subscribe to such things, because inevitably it just made everything much, much worse, excacerbating his usual frown to a brand new low. And so, he held up his hands in protest, but the old woman jammed the hookah into his mouth, until he inhaled. Coughing for a solid 3 minutes, as Tikjab and the family of woods people laughed and laughed. As the smoke curled up into the night, their speech became muddled, the sounds changing as if he was under water. The words warping and twisting into something recognizable. In a few minutes their words started to sound like english, albight with a very strange accent, and sometimes it didn''t seem like english at all, but he could understand. He listened to Tikjab regail them with the embarrasing story of how they met. Tikjab humorously regailed the with his tale. "I was harvesting wheat, when this strange man walks out of the Goblin forest," he points to Mr. Smith with his gnarled finger. "I was warry at first, ready to wack him a good one with my hoe, but he was wearing the strangest clothing, beautiful, like a prince or a king or something, so I says to myself, says Tikjab, maybe he''s a rich young master, who lost his guards or something. He doesn''t have any weopons or anything," Tikjab grins and rubbing his hands together. Tikjab continues, "So maybe I can get some money out of him, but when he starts talking, he''s obviously foreign, I can''t understand a word, so I point myself as if to say this is me, and I say Tikjab. Then he points to himself and guess he says his name is," Tikjab asks a boy about 9 years old, sitting staring up at him. "What did he say," the boy asks bouncing up and down. Tikjab waits, till everything silent, and the points to himself and says, "Shit, he said his name is shit," and everyone busts out laughing, the kids running around screaming, except for John who only reddens, frowning uncomfortably. A child walked up to John and asked him, "is your name really shit?" "No its John, my name is John," he says, and they all start laughing even harder. Someone pokes John in the shoulder roughly. Its the old woman, staring at him a bit too close. "They can''t understand you," says the old woman in the headress chuckling quietly. "I''m the only one who can, because of the nurah leaf, I could link our minds together, look," she said, and her eyes glowed blue, and an ethereal grey thread was revealed floating between them, like the thread of a spider web caught in the light.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. "You see," she cackled. "What is your name exactly?" she asked him. John stared at the old woman who looked like a wrinkled prune, combined with the backside of a peacock, and sighed. "John Smith," he said. The old woman smiled, "it will be hard to get by in this world calling yourself shit, all the time. You might need a new name," she said kindly. Afronted John said "I like my name, it doesn''t mean shit in my land, and wherever this is, I''d really like to get back to it. Just call Mr. Smith for now, if you don''t mind," he said. The old woman smiled a frienldy smile. "If that''s what you want Mr. Smith," she said, "now tell how you got here, and I''ll let you know if there''s anything I can do to help," she said. He told her about the wardrobe with mysterious symbols, and the feeling of falling upwards through a great tunnel. He told of the incredible pain and bright light. The dream of flying through a nebula of blue energy, and the strange blue boxes appearing in his vision. The old woman eyes got wider and wider, as he related his tale. "What did the blue boxes say?" she asked, seriously. He told her and she turned away, staring at the fire, until John finally asked. "How do I get back, what can I do?" he asked. "I havn''t a clue," said the old woman staring into the fire. "I''m not that powerful of a witch honestly, and you''re talking about something so incredibly beyond me that I''ve no idea where you could even start. You''d have to contact a powerful mage, more powerful and knowledgeble than anyone I''ve ever heard of, and even then there''s no guarantee that they''d know how to get you back to wherever it was you came from Mr. Smith." She sighed regretfully. "I''m sorry Mr. Smith, all I can really do is send you on to a larger town," she sighed, "it will cost quite a bit to petition the services of an archmage, or a grand wizard, or some other such character, and they''re all involved in politics so meeting them is sometimes an impossible task. Your best bet might be to learn all you can about those symbols you saw, and try to recreate a method to travel back yourself," she said. "Those bastard archmages might just use you as a test subject and through you away, not caring if you ever get back home. In one way you''re lucky Mr. Smith, because us common folk don''t care about the high and mighty ways of archmages, we''re good and honest folk, and we won''t cheat a traveler who''s lost his way, even one as incomprehensible as yourself, but I wouldn''t go telling anybody else but me about those classes and titles you got, or you might be turned into a mana battery for some rich noble, or a sacrifice for an evil cult or something." John paled at the casual references to power hungry wizards, and evil cults. First the blue boxes had told him to beware of beasts from the ethereal plane, and now he had to worry about evil wizards and cults. This witch seemed a nice sort at least she was helping him. To get back home though it sounded like he''d have to learn magic. Mr. Smith frowned, he didn''t want to learn magic, he didn''t want to be here is this mysterious land, he was a normal person, these kinds of things didn''t happen to him. He was the type who got cancer in his fifties, and then went into remision just in time to see his grand children grow up, and then die peacefully in hospice. Mr. Smith was not an adventurer. The very thought of adventure appalled him. It was uncomfortable, like a wort that had grown on his bum, that pained him whenever he sat. Or like a salad that had flies in it instead of peanuts, something he could complain to the staff about. He looked around, but there was no staff to complain to. "You should really accept that class," pressured the old witch poking him in the shoulder. He frowned. "I really don''t understand what you mean," he said, frowning graciously. "The Class," she said, "System Technician, you should really accept it, Anything that has to do with the System is probably incredibly powerful. I''ve never heard of anything like it before." she said poking him in the shoulder. "Stop poking me," he said, brushing her off. "What class, what are you talking about, what are you saying, I don''t understand. Are the translation drugs wearing off or something." "No you idiot," she said poking him as only a grandmotherly person could get away with, "what you don''t have classes where you come from? Or do you call it something different where you come from? What do you do for jobs then, how do you know what to do?" she frowned up at him. It was a very good frown, he had to admit. He''d practiced frowning in the mirror, so he knew a good frown when he saw one. There was just something about the elderly, who could from down at you dissaprovingly, even if they were 80 pounds and 4''6" that you had to appreciate. He felt that dissaproving stare. "Well," she said, poking him in the shoulder again. The things the elderly can get away with, he thought. "We pick our jobs, probably just like you do here I suppose," he said. "Wheather were born into it, or we''re good at it, or we get an opportunity to do a job, and practice until we get good at it. I mean we go to school when we''re young and school has classes, but that doesn''t seem to be what you''re talking about?" he frowned down at her, trying desperetely to do his very best no-nonsense expression. She was unnafected, and frowned right back up at him. "Classes," she said slowly, as if to a three year old, "are bestowed by the System to grant us power. We grow stronger, and gain more skills spells, etc... by practicing our skills or spells or whatever our class has bestowed upon us. In addition," she continued as in teacher mode, "by slaying dangerous monsters, or making great contributions to society or the world, or great feats of strength or intellect or what have you, we can gain Titles, also bestowed by the System which increase our power. Every child is taught this so you''re quite behind it seems, Mr. Smith," said the old witch haughtily. Error, said Mr. Smiths brain, I don''t understand, I don''t understand, I don''t understand, he kept repeating to himself. "Monsters," he shot to his feet, "there are MONSTERS, IN THIS WORLD?" he shrieked, looking around the into the woods, into the shadows, and the darkness, imagining things out there, watching him. The family looked at him in consternation, but with a word from old granny, went back to their food and conversation. 3. Assaulted on two fronts A ball of glowing light was being held in front of John''s face. He frowned. He flexed his hand and willed the mana inside of him to come out and form in a ball of light...... Nothing happened. "What''s the problem," said the old witch, whose name he was apparently Nejab. "I don''t know, its not working," he said. They were both in the witches little cottage, sitting on stools in the morning light. He''d been set up in her living room and kitchen, on a kind of hard matt made of woven plants with blankets on top. Not the Ritz, but he wasn''t complaining, at least he wasn''t out in the woods. Nejab could apparently keep up the translation spell indefinitely, it only cost her small upkeep of mana to do it. Since she was the only one who could understand him, he was stuck with her, until he could learn the local language or something. She''d convinced him that with his Title: Ether Tapped, using magic was a no brainer. But Mr. Smith did not believe in magic. He believed in paperwork. He believed in contracts, and addendums. He believed in ball point pens, and high tickets sales. He believed in finance. When John Smith was young, his father had worked at a bank, and he had dreamed of working at that same bank. He''d grown up, and gotten a degree in contract law, and proceeded to negotiate deals for companies and corporations. He always read the fine print, and always backed up his hard drive in the cloud. He was very careful and meticulous, but he had never believed, nor had any of the Smith family ever believed, in magic. He didn''t even watch those types of movies, he preffered documentaries, or the news. And sorry to say his sense of humor was usually: 1 out to sea, 2 not at home, or 3 otherwise engaged. So he was having a great deal of trouble, believing he had any kind of mana, or magical ability, when all he''d ever wanted to do, was paperwork. "Say Status," said the witch. "Status," said Mr. Smith, "Oh," he jumped, and the old witch giggled, as his Status page appeard in front of him.
Name: John Smith Race: Human (Earth) Health: 100 Mana: 100
Class: None
Titles System Node [+50% experience gain from all sources, Basic Permissions Unlocked] Title: Ether tapped [regain mana 1000% faster than normal] (DANGER! Ethereal beasts can sense you)
Stats? Strength: 8 Speed: 6 Stamina: 7
Intelligence: 14 Acuity: 10 Wisdom: 9
Ether: 10 Connection: 2 Luck: 7
"Share it, so I can see," the old witch said. Mr. Smith frowned, "how," he thought of sharing it.
Would you like to share your Status page with Nejab Yes/No?
Yes, he thought. "Oh, oooh, interesting," said the old witch, looking at his page, "Its organized a little differently than mine, but it makes sense," she stared. "What! You have 2 connection, how is that possible, oh System Node, that must be what that does, you have an extra connection to the system, that''s such a cheat," she huffed irritably. "Accept the System Technician Class already, its a Hidden Unique Class connected with the System, that''s just ridiculous, do you know how many people would kill, to have a Class like that. Literally, don''t tell anyone you have it, but accept the damn thing," she poked him in the elbow. "How do I do that," he asked. "Just like, how you shared your status page, the System is very easy to use," she poked him harder. He thought about the picking a Class.
Class Options:??Rarity By Color: Common Uncommon Rare Epic Legendary Mythic UniqueLove this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Peon Farmer Witch''s Apprentice Fool System Traveler System Technician (Hidden Class)
He looked at System Technician, considering it.
Would you like to accept Hidden Unique Class: System Technician Yes/No?
Yes
Congratulations! You have accepted Hidden Unique Class: System Technician By accepting this Class, you accept responsabilities for System Maintenance every 4.9 Billion years. All queries for system help, and maintenance will be directed towards you, as you are currently the only System Technician. 7 Googolplex help requests and counting..... Would you like to answer help requests at this time Yes/No?
"7 Googlplex requests, how long has it been since there was a technician, this is nuts," thought Mr. Smith, raising his eyebrows. No, I don''t want to accept any requests.
You have gained the Class Skill: System Search
You have gained the Class Skill: Rename
You have gained the Hidden Title: System Technician [All skills are class skills for the System Tech, System Tech''s gain +50% experience from all sources, System Technician is an Hidden additional Class, User must select a non-hidden Class in addition to System Tech, All extra experience beyond 100% goes toward System Tech.
At that moment, a giant fart split the air. It came not the from the backside of Mr. Smith, but the old witch. It smelled worse than adondoned fridge food, when its time for spring cleaning. John Smith coughed. Stumbling up off his small stool, trying to breathe fresh air. "Its all natural, no need to thank me," cackled the witch prettilly. He stumbled out the front door, taking a deep breathe of the morning air, and right in front of him, there was a ginormous bear. It was standing on its hind legs, and it growled at Mr. Smith who was frozen, hand gripping the door for all he was worth. "Hello," said the bear, and Mr. Smith promptly fainted strait away. "Oh dear," said the bear sniffing Mr. Smith experimentally.
Mr. Smith woke up, to a giant tongue licking his face. Nejab was staring down at him patiently. He promptly shrieked like a little girl, "Oooooooooooooooh," as the massive teeth brushed his face, and drool slid down his cheek. He fainted dead away again. "He''s not very good at this is he," said the bear to the old witch. "Good at what precisely?" asked Nejab. "This," gestured the bear with an enormous paw, "whatever this is," he said gesturing vaguely around. "No, I shouldn''t think so," said the old witch, "He not from around here, and he really doesn''t understand." The bear nodded knowingly, as if that made perfect sense to him.
Mr. Smith floated in a blue nebula. He drifted through space. He felt warm and comfortable, like he was in the womb. Nothing to worry about, cares drifting away. He was vaguely aware of a massive shadow drifting towards him. An ominous waves of darkness aproaching him from afar. But he couldn''t care less. The void beast sensed something, an energy source. It homed in on the vibrations in the ether, metaphorically drooling, if void beasts could drool that is. The taste of this energy was akin to that of the System. The System was like the tides in the ether. Not the water, but the waves. A force of nature coming and going. You could either ride the waves, or be devoured, and crushed in the depths of it formless ethereal embrace. But, this energy although like the System, was small. A single node, a single bite, so tasty like a small treat, a lolipop to crunch down on a savor, mmmmmmmmm yum. The void beast hummed in pleasure, and the darkness spread around the small light drifting the the vast ether. A sudden fear slowly woke John, in that vast nebula of swirling blue light, he had been having such a nice dream, slowly drifting in the warm light. Darkness surrounded him, and he tried to scream, or move, but physics didn''t work the same way in this place. A sense of dread slowly filled him, and it felt like his mouth with filled with cotton. A single rune floated out from inside him and suddenly he was yanked back along a silver cord. Mr. Smith sat up suddenly, eyes flying open, looking around for a dark dread that seemed to surround him. Terrifying, he breathed heavily of the cool morning air. That was when he saw the great bear curled up on the ground not far away, and the old witch perched on top of it. "No," he shouted, jumping to his feet. "I refuse to take part in this nonsense," he screamed. "TAKE ME BACK!" he shouted up into the heavens. "IF YOU"RE UP THERE YOU BETTER TAKE ME BACK RIGHT! THIS! INSTANT!!!!" He got louder and louder and waited. The wind blew throught he trees. The birds chirped, and Nejab look at him worriedly. "Are you all right Mr. Smith," she said. "No," he coghed. "No, I''m not alright, I don''t understand any of this," he told her. "This is not the type of person I am. I don''t have adventures, I don''t like parties, and I Don''t believe in magic," he finished frowning furiously. "This is not my story," he shouted up at heavens, "you''ve got the wrong man. TAKE ME BACK!" he screamed uselessly up into wherever, but wherever did not answer him. Nejab climbed down from the bear, and tried to aproach him, but he backed away. "No," he said, "don''t come closer," he shuffled backwards, fear apparent on his face. "Be careful," said the old witch reaching out, but Mr. Smith tripped. Falling backwards with a yell, he unceremoniosly cracked his on a log, and sprawled unconsious for the third time that day. "That''s got to be a record," said the bear. Nejab grinned, bending down to examine John Smith, dimension traveler, contract lawyer, and ether tapped System techician, to see if he had any bumps of his poor little head. He did, quite a big one in fact.
The void beast hummed in displeasure. Its prey had escaped somehow. It had it totally surrounded, and it had just dissapeard instantly. It was swiming around the area, trying in vain to locate the prey, when it got a ping. The energy vibration had reapeared drifting through a string of power, quite of ways away. It set off throught the edies and swirls of the ether, vibrating at the thought of that tasty morsel. It hummed silently to itself.