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HC: Card Slinger | Ch. 56 - Merewai
🕑 Added 2025-04-04 09:00:08 +0000 UTCAfter a full day of turtle hunting, Deckard studied the five cards in his hand and nodded.
Just two more.
According to his research, all that remained to complete the turtle set was the wild boss and the unique skill it dropped. Despite being a small set, the difficulty of obtaining these last two cards made it the hardest one yet.
A murmur of voices drifted from the shore as yet another crowd began dispersing. Ever since he’d settled here, he’d witnessed four wild boss battles—guilds staking claims over reefs, clashing for control, and leaving within hours. The Low Lives and the Red Arms were long gone. Since then, several new guilds had come and gone, all hoping to complete the challenge.
After watching the cycle repeat a few times, Deckard had finally understood the developers' intent in making this wild boss this difficult. This was a baptism of fire. Sure, the developers could have put the wild boss in an isolated dungeon and removed the added pressure of fighting other factions for a boss. However, this setting forced guilds to adapt under pressure, forging stronger bonds through adversity. If a guild disbanded after just a few attempts, they had no chance of surviving in the unforgiving, competitive world of AstroTerra.
This wasn’t just a trial for them; it was going to be a crucible for him as well. And his time was almost here.
He swiped open his repository. His [Sturdy Turtle] card rested beside the four skills he’d farmed today. Next to them, an empty new card slot featured an illustration—a detailed depiction of the mother turtle rising from the ocean, seawater cascading from its massive shell. The rich blues and greens shimmered under the interface’s glow, the finely etched lines practically making it jump out of the page.
That was it. He was ready to subdimensionalize the wild boss.
Taking a deep breath, Deckard pushed off the reef and started swimming toward the shore. A few more preparations, and he’d be set.
A notification flickered across his vision.
You’ve obtained a new title: [Swimmer].
Swimmer (Common)
Description: Through steady practice and patience, you've refined your technique and can swim more gracefully.
Effects:
Swim 20% faster.
Reduced stamina consumption while swimming.
Conditions to unlock [Swimmer]:
Swim for ten hours in one day; {complete}
Or swim fifty hours total.
Woah! What an awesome title!
The difference was immediate.
Deckard's next stroke carried him farther than expected. The water no longer pushed back as much, gliding past him like an unseen current pulling him forward.
Why didn’t I unlock this sooner?
He’d been spending most of his last days in the water. It seemed strange to only be unlocking this now. Then it hit him—the oxygen tank.
Back near Trash Islet, he’d spent more time waiting for his oxygen tank to refill than actually swimming. The trash-eating turtles lurked deeper, forcing him to dive and resurface constantly. Here, though, he’d stayed in the water far longer without the same restrictions.
That explained it.
The first time he’d arrived, he’d noticed how effortlessly other players moved through the waves, cutting through the currents like fish. No wonder they were so much faster. It wasn’t just skill. They had this title.
A small but valuable edge. And against a wild boss, even the smallest advantage could mean the difference between victory and a respawn.
As he reached the shore, Deckard crossed the crab-ridden beach and ran the entire way from Shell Bay to Stiltwave Village.
As he did, he reviewed everything he’d seen during the day.
A big one was the terrain. He’d mapped out the areas where the Mother Turtle roamed, noting the best spots for cover and the dead zones where players got caught with nowhere to escape. After watching enough fights, he’d gotten pretty good at predicting which guild would win the aggro tug-of-war.
Then there were the guildless players. He’d gotten a solid read on their numbers and their habits—where they crowded, when they struck, and how they moved.
And finally, there was the wild boss itself. The Mother Turtle telegraphed its strongest attacks, but only barely. A slight shift of its massive shell. A pause before a lunge. A faint glow beneath the water’s surface, signaling an impending psionic attack.
Deckard smirked. All that’s left is the two items.
The scent of salt and sun-dried fish thickened in the air as he stepped onto the wooden walkways, the tide sloshing against the stilts below. Boats rocked gently beneath the village, their hulls creaking with each small wave.
He scanned the platforms, searching for the NPC he’d read about.
She lived next door to the fishnet mender—the very first NPC he’d spoken to when he started playing. Looking back, it felt like that had been just yesterday, but in reality, almost two weeks had passed. Hard to believe he’d already spent that much time inside the game.
He found her sitting on a woven mat, threading shells into a necklace. She had a lush afro, streaked with silver, and slanted eyes that gave the impression she was always squinting. The horn-rimmed glasses perched on her nose only made that look more pronounced.
Deckard approached with a smile. “Hello there! How are you?”
The woman glanced up, holding the necklace up to inspect her work. “Mmm. Good day, good day. What you want, friend?”
Having reputation points with the villagers made all the difference. She was already open to helping him.
“I was wondering if you could teach me how to make those beautiful necklaces.”
She paused, her fingers stilling over the shells. “You want to be a jeweler? You sure? You want make money with this?”
Deckard waved a hand. “No, not at all. I just think they look nice.”
Merewai relaxed at that. “Ah, good call. No money in this. My grandmother, she sell many, many shells. People come from far, from other islands, just to buy. But now?” She shook her head. “Now nobody care.”
“That’s sad to hear,” Deckard said.
She shrugged, threading another shell. “Eh, what can you do? When Aquascape grow big and the merchants bring their godless metal, people forget the ocean’s gifts.” She ran a calloused thumb over the shells in her hands, as if remembering something distant. “These merchants, they say metal better, stronger. Maybe. But you ask the sea? The sea say different. She give what we need, long before metal men come.”
Her gaze swept over him, as if assessing something deeper than his words. “But maybe you different. Maybe I can teach you craft of my family. But first, you prove you care for the bounty of the sea.” She jabbed a finger at him. “I don’t care for no godless metal.”
Deckard held back a grin. He knew where this was going. “Of course. Give me a chance to show you.”
Merewai nodded. “Very well. If you walk toward the sunrise, you find a bay full of turtles. People hunt them, and their shells break, scatter in the waves. You bring me back one hundred pieces.”
You’ve received a new quest: [Appreciate the Oceans].
Appreciate the Oceans (Common)
Merewai believes people no longer buy seashell necklaces because they have turned their hearts away from the ocean, favoring imported metal instead. She sends you on a quest to help cultivate appreciation for the sea’s bounty.
Quest objectives: Collect 100 [Turtle Shell Pieces].
Deckard snorted internally. She wants to teach me to appreciate the ocean… by making me farm 100 turtle shell pieces? That’s the exact opposite of what she’s trying to teach.
He smiled. “Actually, I already have 100 pieces. Look.”
Merewai’s eyes widened. “Oh my. What a coincidence.”
Right. A coincidence.
“But that don’t mean you ready yet.” She pulled out a small wooden pot and pressed it into his hands. “Here. Glue. Now you put the pieces together. Make the shells whole again, like the sea made them.” She tapped her necklace. “When you see how much work God put into making it, you’ll finally appreciate nature.”
Ah. Now it made sense.
Deckard eyed the glue and the pile of broken shell fragments. The quest wasn’t just about gathering pieces—it was a lesson. A demonstration of how fast something could be destroyed, and how painstakingly slow it was to put it back together.
Alright, designers. My apologies, he thought with a smirk.
“Very well. I’ll do it.”
He accepted the jar and sat down beside Merewai, stretching his legs as he reached into his inventory.
And then, with a flick of his hand, he dumped not 100 but 300 shell pieces onto the mat.
Merewai’s eyes widened as the fragments clattered together in a small avalanche. “Eh? No, no, no—you don’t need that many!”
Deckard waved her off, completely unbothered. “I want to make sure I find the perfect fits. Only then can I truly appreciate the oceans.”
Merewai’s expression softened. She nodded, her gaze holding a quiet respect. “Ah. You understand well, then.”
Oh, I understand perfectly, Deckard thought, barely holding back a grin.
He got to work, meticulously piecing the shells together. The hardest part wasn’t finding matches—the sheer number of pieces meant he always had options. The real challenge was waiting for the glue to dry. Every time he pressed two fragments together, he had to hold them still while the bond set. If he moved too soon, the glue weakened, and he’d have to start over.
So, he kept at it. Piece by piece. Bit by bit.
Everything was going exactly as the walkthrough described.
The quest was meant to introduce players to the jewelry profession, though, despite the sea-themed setup, it wouldn’t limit them to working with shells. Once completed, players would gain access to metalworking, gem-cutting, and other crafting materials.
But the general consensus was that it wasn’t worth it.
Most players skipped this tedious process and waited until they reached a mid-tier city, where they could pick up the profession through a far simpler quest. Faster, cleaner, no sitting around gluing shells for hours.
But Deckard wasn’t here for the profession.
He worked in silence, methodically piecing the shells together. Merewai watched him, arms crossed, nodding approvingly.
After an hour, Deckard turned to her. “Excuse me, I’ve run out of glue.”
Merewai frowned. “You have?” She leaned over, inspecting his work. “Hmph. Thought that jar be plenty.”
Deckard spread his hands helplessly. “What can I say? Can I have some more? I’ll pay for it.”
The woman hesitated, lips pursed.
“Ah, well…” She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I-I suppose that’s fine.”
Yes.
Deckard handed over two silver, and Merewai begrudgingly passed him another jar.
You’ve received a quest item: [Coconut Glue].
Deckard smiled. Everything was going according to plan.
Several hours had passed.
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving only the glow of lanterns swaying gently in the ocean breeze. The moon had risen, casting silver streaks over the water. The village had grown quieter and smelled of the burning coconut oil used for illumination, the distant murmur of waves, and the occasional creak of wooden planks beneath his mat, the only sounds breaking the stillness.
But Deckard kept working.
His fingers ached from holding shell fragments in place, his patience stretched thin by the painstaking process. More than once, a misplaced breath or an accidental nudge made him waste several minutes of patient drying, forcing him to start over.
One jar of [Coconut Glue] became two. Then three.
But finally, it was done.
Deckard sat back and exhaled, rolling out his stiff shoulders. Before him rested two large half-shells, larger than a Sturdy Turtle’s natural shell. The glue had dried completely, smoothing over the cracks so seamlessly they looked as if they had never been broken in the first place. Under the moonlight, they gleamed with an almost ceremonial sheen.
He had spent over 250 shell pieces crafting them.
Merewai, who had been silently watching from the side, gave a slow nod of approval. She unfolded her arms and stretched out an open hand, ready to receive the finished work.
“Wow. You go extra mile, foreigner,” she said. “I am truly—”
Deckard stood, turned away, and pocketed the shells into his inventory.
Merewai blinked. “Eh?”
“They’re not ready yet.”
She squinted. “Not ready?”
“I must test them for hydrodynamic efficiency.”
Merewai stared. “What?”
Without another word, Deckard bolted into the night.
“Wait! Where you going?” Merewai called after him.
Deckard didn’t answer. He didn’t slow down. He didn’t care.
He had exactly what he came for. According to the spawning schedule, a wild boss fight was going to start in a few moments. It was the perfect time to go prepare and set up for the next wild boss after that.
Comments
Cássio Ferreira
Haha. Glad you think so.
Harley Dalton Jr.
Interesting.
