Episode-243

Words : 1529 Updated : Oct 1st, 2025

Chapter : 485 His gaze drifted back to the teeming plains of glistening, jiggling slimes. The first quest was clear. One thousand slimes. It was a grind, yes. A tedious, repetitive task. But every single one of those bouncing blobs of gelatin was a step towards his goals. Each one was a fraction of a Farming Coin, which was a fraction of a System Coin, which was a fraction of an upgrade that might one day save his life. He felt a surge of pure, unadulterated motivation, the familiar, addictive thrill of a gamer facing a new, promising, and incredibly long, quest line. The existential dread, the political anxieties, the emotional turmoil of the real world—they all seemed to fade away here, in this place of simple, clear, and brutally direct objectives. Kill the slimes. Get the coins. Get stronger. He took a step towards the vast green plain, his hand instinctively going to his side. He didn’t have a weapon. He hadn’t brought one. But he didn’t need one. He had his chains. He had his fists. And he had a very, very motivated lightning wolf who had been cooped up for far too long. A silent command flowed through their bond. Fang Fairy materialized beside him, her ethereal, storm-goddess form a stunning, almost profane, slash of beauty against the serene, cartoonish landscape of the Slime Plains. Her golden eyes surveyed the bouncing, gurgling slimes, and then looked at him, a silent, questioning amusement in her gaze. This, Master? This is our great battle? “It is not a battle, Fang Fairy,” Lloyd replied, his voice a low, determined murmur, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. “This... is a harvest.” He pointed towards the teeming, endless field of glistening, oblivious prey. “And we,” he declared, his voice ringing with the grim, joyful purpose of a man who has finally found a clear, tangible path forward, “have a quota to meet.” — The Slime Plains were a deceptive, almost whimsical, landscape. The air was clean and still, the impossibly green grass felt like soft velvet beneath his boots, and the slimes themselves... they were almost cute. They jiggled. They bounced. They made soft, wet, squelching sounds as they moved, their translucent, gelatinous bodies pulsing with a gentle, inner light. They were less like monsters and more like oversized, sentient, and slightly moist, children’s toys. This, Lloyd thought with a grimace as he approached the edge of the teeming field, is going to be profoundly, comprehensively, undignified. He could have unleashed the Spear of Justice. A single, medium-yield strike would likely have vaporized a hundred of them in a brilliant, satisfying flash of azure light. But the energy cost was immense. It was like using a tactical nuke to deal with a gnat infestation. Overkill. Inefficient. A waste of the precious, shared energy pool he and Fang Fairy possessed. The Major General, the master of logistics, recoiled from the sheer, unprofessional wastefulness of it. No. The goal here was not speed; it was efficiency. Maximum yield for minimum expenditure. This was a grind, and the first rule of any successful grind was resource management. “Alright, Fang Fairy,” he said, his voice a low murmur, as they stood at the edge of the bouncing, gurgling horde. “New rules of engagement. We need to conserve energy. Low-cost, high-repetition tactics. The Spear is off the table unless one of these things turns out to be secretly a dragon in disguise.” Fang Fairy tilted her head, her golden eyes surveying the field of jiggling, seemingly harmless blobs with a look of profound, almost regal, boredom. Your orders, Master? her silent thought was a hum of contained power. Shall I... shock them? Gently? “An excellent idea,” Lloyd agreed. “But let’s be surgical about it.” He envisioned the plan, a simple, repeatable, and hopefully energy-efficient, assembly line of destruction. “I will handle containment and initial weakening. You will handle... final sanitation. Understood?” A flicker of understanding, and perhaps a hint of amused compliance, flowed back through their bond. As you command, Master. The sanitation detail accepts its duties. Lloyd took a deep breath and stepped into the field. A dozen nearby slimes turned their featureless, gelatinous forms towards him, their gentle inner light pulsing with a flicker of what might have been mild, bovine curiosity. They bounced towards him, their movements slow, almost playful. He raised his hands, the familiar thrum of his B-Rank Steel Blood answering his call. He didn’t form a cloud of razor-wires, nor a solid, kinetic projectile. He willed a different form into existence. The chains. With a silent, fluid whisper, two thick, heavy chains of gleaming Ferrum steel erupted from the air before him. They did not fly; they slithered, moving with the speed and sinister grace of striking cobras. Chapter : 486 One chain shot out, wrapping itself around a cluster of three bouncing slimes, cinching tight. The other lashed out, ensnaring another four. The chains didn’t cut. They simply... squeezed. The effect was... strange. And deeply unsatisfying. The slimes, caught in the constricting steel embrace, did not cry out. They did not struggle. They simply... compressed. Their gelatinous bodies yielded to the pressure, bulging grotesquely through the gaps in the chain links, their inner light pulsing erratically. It was like squeezing a handful of very large, very resilient, water balloons. The chains held them fast, yes. But they weren't being damaged. Their strange, amorphous bodies seemed to absorb the kinetic force of the constriction with a frustrating, almost mocking, ease. Lloyd frowned beneath his mask. Kinetic force ineffective, his internal analyst noted. Their bodies are non-Newtonian fluids. They resist impact through viscous dissipation. Squeezing them is like trying to punch water. A new approach is needed. He looked at Fang Fairy, who was observing the scene with an expression of patient, analytical interest. A new command flowed through their bond. Plan B. The Lightning Cloak. Not the full-body aura. A focused application. Channel a low-level current through my chains. Acknowledged, Master. Calibrating output to... ‘mildly unpleasant’. Fang Fairy raised a single, slender finger. A thin, almost invisible, tendril of azure lightning, no thicker than a piece of string, leaped from her fingertip and connected with the steel chains Lloyd was still mentally holding. The gleaming steel, a perfect conductor, instantly became a conduit for her power. The chains began to hum, to crackle, a faint blue light playing along their surfaces. The reaction from the bound slimes was immediate, and far more gratifying. The seven slimes, which had been placidly enduring their constriction, suddenly began to vibrate violently. Their inner light flickered erratically, flashing from blue to white to an alarming shade of greenish-yellow. A high-pitched, sizzling sound filled the air, accompanied by the unpleasant smell of boiling gelatin. They jiggled, they convulsed, and then, with a series of wet, pathetic, popping sounds, they dissolved into steaming, bubbling puddles of viscous, bluish goo. [Slimes Killed: 7] The notification chimed in his mind, and a progression bar, stark and unforgiving, appeared in his vision. [Slime Cull: 7/1000]. Lloyd let the chains dissipate, a slow smile spreading across his face. Okay. So they’re not resistant to being cooked from the inside out. Good to know. The tactic was effective. He contained them, she provided the lethal, electrical current. A perfect, synergistic system. They fell into a rhythm. A grim, repetitive, and surprisingly tedious, dance of death. Lloyd would send out his chains, binding a cluster of the bouncing, oblivious creatures. Fang Fairy would send a low-level jolt of lightning through the steel, and the slimes would pop, dissolve, and add to the growing number of steaming, gooey puddles that now dotted the pristine green landscape. Bind. Squeeze. Jolt. Pop. Bind. Squeeze. Jolt. Pop. It was a brutally efficient, almost industrial, process of extermination. But it was also... mind-numbingly boring. The slimes offered no resistance, no challenge. They simply bounced, gurgled, and died with a pathetic, wet sizzle. There was no thrill of combat, no tactical challenge. It was just... work. A repetitive, grinding, and increasingly sticky, job. After what felt like an eternity of this assembly-line slaughter, Lloyd paused, taking a moment to check his progress. The progression bar glowed with a number that was both a testament to their efficiency and a monument to their boredom. [Slime Cull: 482/1000] Almost halfway. He glanced at Fang Fairy. Her ethereal form was still bright, her power still immense, but he could sense the subtle drain, the constant, low-level expenditure of her energy. He felt it too, a dull ache behind his eyes, a weariness in his own Void reserves from the constant manifestation and control of the chains. This was efficient, yes. But it was still a grind. A long, slow, and increasingly monotonous grind. He looked out across the endless, teeming plains of glistening, jiggling slimes. Five hundred and eighteen to go. He let out a long, weary sigh. The path to power, it seemed, was not just paved with danger and intrigue. It was also paved with a great deal, a truly staggering amount, of slime goo.

Episode-243

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