Indecent Haste, Chp 89
Indecent Haste
Chp 89
I laid on my back on top of a table. Around me, shrouded figures were seated. With utensils of strange design, they prodded and cut at my being.
Not to heal, but to feast. All that I was became their nourishment.
I hope they fucking choke on it.
I felt like garbage for a few moments when I came to, but it passed. The upgrade sickness vision was already evaporating from my mind. Combining the interface upgrades into one had made it worse, though I couldn't have said how now that it was over.
I made a mental note not to do that again unless I had a very specific reason. I also realized rather late that I should have checked what I was getting in the upgrade before committing to it. Unfortunately, the system didn't give me any hints about what had changed now that it was done.
I resigned myself to hunting the changes down the old-fashioned way. Thankfully it wasn't that hard to do. All of the tabs with upgrades were marked with red triangles with black exclamation points in them.
I noticed a red dot on the message icon. Checking in, I was reminded that I'd missed a call from Elim. I swore and went to call him back. It had been half an hour, and I wouldn't blame him for being pissed.
"Shit," I muttered when Elim didn't pick up. I felt my innards shrivel.
[Hey Elim,
Sorry for missing your call. I was a little tied up at the time. Nothing else should come up. Feel free to call me back at any time if you need to,
-42]
I sent the text instead of trying again. Elim might have been asleep, and I didn't want to wake him if that was true. He could get back to me when he felt like it.
With that mistake fresh on my mind, I remembered the state of my door. I quickly removed the block and unlocked it. Thankfully no one was waiting outside anxiously. Minor fuck up averted, it seemed.
I decided to take things a step further. I sent a text to clarify that things were fine instead of leaving it ambiguous for the dungeon denizens. After recent events, they'd probably appreciate it.
[Hello,
My upgrade is complete, and everything went well. So I've reopened my chamber of machinations and will take calls and texts again.
Thanks
-42]
I sent it to all of the skeletons I'd messaged earlier before starting on Henrys.
[Hi Henry,
Everything went just fine, and I'm alright. Nothing weird happened this time, thankfully.
-42]
Once I had my message to Henry sent, I knew it was time to read his letter. This was probably why my brain immediately panic spasmed and generated a list of other things I could do.
It shouldn't have been such a big deal. Still, Henry's trepidation seemed to have rubbed off on me. At least a little bit, anyway.
I decided to read it after I gave my interface a once-over. Hunting down my new upgrades was technically more important. I definitely wasn't just stalling.
To my surprise, I found the upgrades were marked with red tooltip icons in this version of things. I had one on my monster, crafting, and personal info tab. Since the alert on my personal tab seemed like the oddest one, I decided to check it first.
It took a couple of seconds for me to figure out what had changed. Rather than a new field or feature, there was a small paintbrush icon on my personal portrait. I selected it then let out a shriek of fear.
Hovering just in front of me, nearly nose to nose, was a Dungeon Master. I barely had time to process what I was looking at before I banged up against the ceiling. Bellow me, the other DM was in the same spot but had weirdly had the same posture and looked freaked out.
With something like a wobbling top noise at the wrong pitch ring in my ears, I just stared. Unlike 24, this one had green eyes like me. That didn't do much to make me feel better.
The only thing that helped me calm down a little was realizing a new menu was open. I glanced at it and noticed a series of dropdowns followed by fields with sliders. They all had names like species, height, eye color, etc.
I was looking at an appearance editor. Feeling like the only thing that had kept me from pissing myself in terror was the weird nature of my anatomy, my embarrassment was profound. I did manage to scrape myself off the ceiling and descend to the floor before anyone saw, thankfully.
Floating over, I gave the other DM a solid, for me, slap. It mirrored the gesture, and I couldn't abort fast enough to stop the collision. My hand went through its face, and it passed through mine without even a flicker of feeling.
Whatever I was looking at wasn't an entity in its own right—more of a 3D dummy of sorts to test changes out on.
At the moment, all of the appearance options were locked. So I couldn't edit how I looked as a DM. The only drop down I could do anything with revealed a selection of monster races to choose from.
I very carefully made sure I didn't select anything. Instead, I read the tooltips to better understand what was going on. It turned out to be less of a chance to change my species and more of a costume option.
I'd been a bit worried that I was supposed to pick a final boss persona or something. Of course, it wouldn't grant me new abilities, but it was kind of neat. I promptly closed the appearance editor.
With all of the customization options, I could already tell it would be a black hole for my time and attention once I got started. I wasn't going to put off reading Henry's letter for that long.
Getting back to my actual task, I checked my crafting tab. I didn't need to be a rocket surgeon to realize I had an extra slot on all of my crafting options.
"Woot!" I said happily, doing a swoopy dance. The appearance option seemed odder than practical, but the crafting slots were plenty useful.
I didn't hesitate to put the new slots to use. I always tried to ensure I had all of them going, even if I was just using junk as filler. I might not have a practical use for S-grade common textiles, but by golly, I had them.
After the blitz of potion disassembly I'd done when my interface was wonky, I didn't need to process junk. Instead, I had piles of components and formulas to mess around with.
With that sorted, I double-checked my crafting interface. I was hoping I'd overlooked something but, alas, I had not.
That left my monster tab, and I was burning with curiosity now. I wouldn't have called the other two options duds, but I was hoping for a big win. I found it in the form of a new information card style entry.
Enhanced skeleton, elemental fire hound, and giant mole were all listed like information cards. I was treated to a new interface that offered improvement options when I selected the one for enhanced skeletons.
After reading through what was available, I immediately zeroed in on an option.
[Illusion of Life]
[This ability hides the necromantic status of a creature and grants an illusionary appearance. A minor magical force field is generated around the body to approximate the form of a living creature. It will fool the sense of those who come in contact with it.
However, it can be seen through with specific magical abilities and by high-level spell casters.]
It would be crazy expensive, a full day's mana, but I wanted it. Despite that, I checked to see if I could buy it for a single skeleton to test it out first.
Thankfully, I could, and it was cheap enough that I could squeeze it in. I made a call.
"I need you to be honest with me. Are you wearing pants right now?" I asked, my voice on the border between frantic and elated.
"The fuck? Yes?" Chris responded.
Like a dumbass, I accepted his answer and activated the illusion. I could hear gasps and ewws ring out through the open line. Chris was not wearing pants.