Chapter 46: Three For the Price of One

Jason Salazar “Yep, that’s rot-lung,” Steve said, listening to Travis’s breathing. “It’s known as baptismal rot-lung. Most Climbers get it when they arrive, and if they survive, they don’t get it again.” “And how likely is survival?” Will asked. “With me here? Hundred percent,” Steve said, his hand glowing with the blessing of Andover over Travis. He lifted his head and pointed at where Alicia was shivering on top of the cot. “ is a badly infected wound…rot-lung.” He said, moving over to the archer and listening to her breathing before he began healing her. “Why am I fine?” Will asked. “Because you have freakishly high Resistance.” Roger said, the brawler’s arms crossed from where he leaned against the wall, watching the proceedings with interest. “What he said,” Steve said, pointing at Roger without looking away from where he was healing the infected scrape on Alicia’s leg. “Once these three get a few more levels under their belts, they won’t get sick quite as fast, and eventually they’ll be functionally immune to everything on the 4th Floor, like you.” Steve moved on to Loth whose labored breathing eased greatly as he laid his glowing hand on her chest. “I expect they’ll be ready to get back out there in about three days.” “Three days!?” Will demanded. “I thought you were magically healing them. With magic.” “I am, but the sickness in their lungs is still there, and it’s well-known among healers that rot-lung tends to flare back up if you don’t keep on it for a few days. I have to knock it out a handful of times in a row before their body figures out the trick to fighting it off. Three days.” “Stupid magic having stupid limitations,” Will muttered. “Oh I’m sorry, are you dissatisfied with the ” Steve demanded. “You’re getting paid: one percent.” seaʀᴄh thё NôvelFire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. “And where’s my one percent!?” Will flicked a couple ivory across the room, where Steve snatched them out of the air. “If you want a more precise number, talk to Loth, she keeps better track of our cash.” Will said. “Sounds like you’re going to need a quartermaster soon,” Roger said. “Probably,” Will admitted. “Maybe when we have enough spare power to babysit a beancounter.” “I knew a logistics specialist on the seventh floor that could spend Charges to retroactively change what supplies had been brought with us, just by changing it in her ledger. Beans to bandages, bandages to shaving cream. As long as the cost to acquire it stayed the same.” Roger said. Will’s brows rose. “She could even turn gold bars into food…She’s dead, sadly.” “And…what Sacrifices did she use to make her Class?” Will asked. “I’unno.” Roger shrugged. Will thought sourly, turning back to his Party, who were laid out in critical condition, just from the in the 4th Floor. “You look like you’re trying to figure out what to do while they’re on the mend,” Roger said, clapping Will on the shoulder. Will’s paranoia wanted him to shrug off the hand and tell the Brawler he wasn’t interested in his help, so he could go suck an egg. But that was silly. Roger was there to guide them through the 4th Floor. He’d given them a of money, and his little brother was on the team. The odds he didn’t have Will’s best interest at heart were…slim. “Matter of fact, I know what to do while we wait. Got any suggestions?” “Let’s go hunting. I’ll introduce you to the local wildlife, we can get some Loot and once the others are vertical, you can share your newfound knowledge with them.” Roger glanced back at his resting Party. “The 4th floor is also where you can get some of the better ranger-class gear, as well as the best poison and disease resisting items until the thirteenth floor.” “There’s another disease floor?” Will asked, exasperated. He was already tired of one. “So I hear.” Roger said. “Alright, I’ll go hunting with you. But first I gotta check some loot we got off a guy who tried to assassinate us on the way in. “Okay.” “Okay?” Will asked. “Is it normal for a newbie team to get attacked randomly?” “Its…more common than I’d like.” Roger said with a shrug. “The environment of the 4th floor makes a perfect dumping ground for bodies, and newbs are almost universally afflicted with rot-lung, making them easy pickings. Some veteran Climbers say it’s a waste to just let them die and lose their Relics in the swamp, so they kind of…speed the process along.” “They’re in the minority, right?” Will asked. “Officially, yes.” Roger said, nodding. “Unofficially?” “Still in the minority, but some Parties will kill other Parties claiming that their victims were noobs hunting. Verifying is difficult, and usually falls to the Party’s reputation.” “The Tower keeps track of who does what,” Roger said, pointing up. “It gives people a practically criminal amount of leeway, but if a certain crime is repeated often and egregiously enough, they’ll be given a bounty that reports to everyone what floor they’re on, at which point they’re basically dead meat. That’s why it’s not total anarchy. Nobody quite knows how many strikes they have left.” “It’s a bit stupid though, since you can hide from The Tower with just a mask.” Roger said, motioning to Will’s goat mask. Will frowned. “What’s egregiously mean?” “In a really, shockingly bad way,” Roger said. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Will grunted acknowledgement and went to inspect the Relics he’d pried off their assailant. Just the boots, helmet, amulet and rings, because Will had been on a time-crunch and wasn’t interested in doing a full strip while his Party’s lungs were actively rotting. Will thought, inspecting the item. It was a diadem seemingly made of carved ice and moonstone. Will rummaged through their luggage until he found Cold Harvest Will thought, putting them together. If he was reading this right, the sickle would no longer create shards of ice that made slashing damage less effective, and the debuff would last fifteen seconds rather than five. Fifteen seconds was a huge amount of time in a fight. Will pulled another ring out of his dimensional Storage. Fifteen seconds was frankly more than enough time. If it got whittled back down to ten, or eight, or even 6, if the slow debuff was similarly improved it would be a net win. There were only two problems: Will’s Focus wasn’t the best. It wasn’t bad, but it certainly wasn’t great, so the ring of Curse Concentration’s effect probably wouldn’t be extraordinary. And second, he would have to throw away the mutated Ring of Accuracy, never to return again, along with the possibility of ever using the sickle of Cold Harvest, he’d have to find a different arm-slot item, because tracer fire would probably undo the cold debuff… Will realized. A complete shift in his Build design, in exchange for applying an insane slow effect and life-drain to attack he made. It was very tempting, but Will decided to hold off until he checked the other items. The next item he checked were the boots. Will checked the amulet. Sure, Will always wanted better footing, but he only had one ring slot, and the ring of Mud Hardening wouldn’t make the cut. It seemed like its active would be very, very good for a potter or a golemancer. Imagine being able to drop a fireball right on your friend’s heads without them catching on fire. That was the sort of thing a Nuker might like to have. How close they’d come to being slaughtered sank in. Alicia If he hadn’t told Alicia to take the shot, they would be dead. There was no doubt in Will’s mind. “Roger, can you join my party so I can punch you real quick?” Will asked, taking off his sting ring. “Knock yourself out.” Roger said, joining the Party. Will punched the lumbering Rustic Brawler in the stomach. “Three out of ten.” The giant opined on the damage. Will donned the Ring of Consideration and punched him again, feeling a faint sensation, as though something was pulling his strike. “one out of ten.” Roger said. “Very cool,” Will said, pocketing the ring. The umbrella term ‘negative effects’ seemed to apply to both damaging effects and debuffs. If it was bad, it would help your Party resist it. Maybe he could give it to Mason, or maybe Alicia could use it to safely rain arrows down around them, only bruising her party members rather than skewering them. A very good ring for massively damaging, indiscriminate Abilities… Will sighed. No matter how much experience Will got with the realities of Climbing, and how excellent his Class really was, he’d always be jealous of those who could simply rain fire. Will rummaged through their luggage again for Reggie’s Contract. There was only one Stronghold on the Fourth floor, because absolutely no one wanted to live here. So the chances were good that Mason’s Party was in the same mud-covered, mosquito-infested town built on stilts so as not to sink into the swamp. “Can I take care of one thing before we go hunting?” Will asked, twirling Reggie’s contract in his fingers. Roger shrugged. “Sure.” In less than half an hour, Will had tracked Mason’s party down to a mid-range inn with only gaps in the walls for mosquitos to find their way in. Then he went for the kill. “Absolutely ” Mason said, his face turning red. “You see your dad’s signature at the bottom here?” Will said, pointing. “Where it says he’s giving the leaders of Alicia Zodiac’s Party – that’s me – ownership of Reginald Thatcher’s Tank contract.” “That’s…umm…that’s the paper I signed,” Reggie said, his eyes wide. “I will believe you’re Alicia Zodiac’s party leader when Lumesh brings the Abyss up out of the ground and Ouroboros swallows The Tower.” “Join my Party and you’ll know.” Will said with a shrug. “I’ll do it,” June, Mason’s scout said. “Umm…wow.” June said, eyes wide as she read the roster of Will’s Party. “Wow what?” Mason asked. “Yeah, Alicia Zodiac is in his Party. Their stats are…” June shook her head. “Wow.” “Well, where is she, then?” Mason demanded. “Laid up with rotlung,” Will said with a shrug. “Until the rest of our Party gets up and running, Roger Oilton here is going to give us a tour of the 4th Floor.” “Tour…That is true.” Roger said, a faint smile at the corner of his lips. “What do you mean ‘our’ party?” Mason demanded. “Well, since Reggie is joining my Party, I figured you would…wanna come with.” Will said with an innocent shrug. “Think of it as an opportunity to become friends with Alicia Zodiac. Your dad did.” Mason’s eye twitched and he glanced at Reggie. The large straw-haired Tank gave a guilty shrug. “I can feel the Contract nudging me. It’s real. I have to join Will’s Party. And soon.” Mason gave Will a long, weighing look. They both knew that Mason’s life expectancy depended on a Tank, especially at the lower levels. That meant that wherever Reggie went, Mason had to go. Steal Reggie, steal Mason. Steal Mason, and June had to follow suit to avoid being stranded alone on the 4th floor. “I don’t want to create bad blood. If anything, I want you to be happy about this, so I’ve got a signing bonus to sweeten the deal,” Will said, putting his hand on the table and releasing Relics from the Phantom Hand beneath his palm as he swiped it across the wood in a simple magic trick. He released the ring of Arcane endurance, The Ring of Consideration, the Amulet of the Frozen Heart, and the ring of Haunting Blood. Mason picked up the Ring of Arcane Endurance, and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “How did you…nevermind, not important.” After a minute of silence, Mason reached across the table and offered his hand. “I will accept on the condition that we get to keep these Relics, and when we reach level thirty and Reggie’s contract expires, we renegotiate a more equitable relationship, else we go our separate ways.” “Deal,” Will said, shaking Mason’s hand. “Dude, William Oh just stole your whole Party,” June said. “Don’t remind me,” Mason groaned, sitting back in his seat. “We just recovered from our rot-lung, too. Damnit.”