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HC: Card Slinger | Ch. 39 - Trash
🕑 Added 2025-01-27 10:54:39 +0000 UTCDeckard laughed as he sprawled across the thatched roof of the Silver Shell.
Things went way better than I hoped!
He’d been ready to rely on his [Spider Ring] and [Sea Wind Boots] for a hasty retreat once he’d taken down the Coconut Seagull. The plan was simple: grab the loot, throw a spider web to buy himself some time, and bolt before anyone could stop him. But to his surprise, none of that was necessary.
The sheer shock of him one-shotting a full-health Coconut Seagull had frozen the other players in their tracks. Their confusion gave him just enough time to snag the loot without anyone daring to stop him. Seeing the chaos unfold, Deckard had leaned into the moment, adopting the air of a lofty expert.
The finishing touch was activating [Light as a Feather] to jump onto the roof of the Silver Shell just in case he was being followed. Sure enough, being extra safe paid off. Three players had followed him to the village. After they lost his tracks, he simply watched from the roof's safety as his would-be pursuers fruitlessly searched the village below.
Of course, this won’t work every time.
Grinning, he opened his inventory and studied the spoils of his daring maneuver. The first was the creature card, his true objective.
As usual with seagull cards, it was underwhelming. He shrugged. Whatever the case, it was another step toward finishing the seagull mini-set. That alone made the effort worthwhile.
Along with the card, the elite had dropped feathers, a handful of coins, and—most importantly—a quest item: the [Coconut Hat]. Deckard turned the item over in his hands. This was the key to finishing Old Jones’s quest.
Just in case, Deckard grabbed the odd pieces of gear he had in his inventory and put them on. He changed headgears, pants and removed the spectacles and his Sea Wind Boots while grabbing the quarter-staff he was given at the start of the game. It wasn’t the best disguise in the world, but a lifetime of being bullied taught him that it never hurt to be too careful. That, and most bullies, weren’t the brightest. Even if anyone spotted him again, the change in equipment might be enough to throw them off.
Sliding off the roof, he headed toward the edge of the village. The house’s weathered beams, sagging roof, and the coconut tree nearby made it easy for him to find it. As he knocked, the door creaked open, revealing the old man’s toothy grin.
“Ah, ya really done it, foreigner!” Jones exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. He snatched the hat from Deckard’s hands, holding it up like a treasure. “No more feathers flappin’ ‘round, chasin’ off the villagers. Coconuts be safe now, aye!”
You’ve completed [The Coconut Guardian].
Completion rate: C
Quest rewards:
+10 reputation with Stiltwave Village;
3 silver.
Bonus rewards:
3x[Coconut Power Rum].
Deckard frowned slightly at the completion rate. A “C” wasn’t stellar, but that wasn’t enough to dampen Deckard’s enthusiasm. He’d still gotten some rewards—that’s what counted.
Jones ducked back into his house, returning moments later with a cloth-wrapped bundle. “Here,” he said, thrusting it toward Deckard. “Three bottles of the good stuff. I don’t give this to just anyone, ya know.”
Deckard unwrapped the bundle, revealing three bottles. The faint scent of coconut and spices wafted up.
Coconut Power Rum (Consumable)
Description: A fiery brew favored by daring adventurers, made with coconuts and island herbs. Sharpens the senses and invigorates the body.
Item effects:
Grants +5 attack for 1 minute;
Cleanses all debuffs;
Restores 50 HP and 50 energy;
Restrictions: Can only be used once per battle.
Deckard inspected the bottles, a smirk forming. No wonder everyone wants to finish this quest.
“Bet ya think it’s just for drinkin’ when ya thirsty, eh?” Jones said, his grin widening. “But no, lad—this stuff be savin’ yer skin when things get rough. Don’t waste it!”
“I won’t,” Deckard replied. These weren’t items to be used casually. They’d need to be saved for the toughest battles when a surprise boost in attack or a quick recovery could turn the tide. If he was ever in a difficult moment against a boss, struggling against poison or another kind of debuff, this could potentially save his life.
Three bottles, he thought, grinning. I have to make them count.
Jones slapped Deckard on the back, his laugh booming. “Villagers be grateful for what ya done. Even ol’ Jones owes ya a favor now. But next time, don’t keep me waitin’ so long!”
Deckard’s ears perked up at Jones’ jab. So that’s why he gave me such a low completion rate in the quest. I didn’t go hunt the Coconut Seagull right away. Good to know for next time.
Deckard chuckled, tucking the rum into his inventory. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Now that he had [Coconut Seagull] in his repository, Deckard was only missing one card to complete the seagull mini-set—or so he hoped. He was acting under the assumption that each type of creature on the island formed its own set.
Deckard felt a sense of dread pool in his stomach. What if he was going through all this effort for naught? He shook his head. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
“Maybe I should run that quest I read about online since I’m going to hunt for the last elite anyway,” Deckard muttered.
He jumped off the wooden platform, landed on the sand, and started roaming the shoreline, his eyes scanning for trash. Even though the waters here were crystal clear, that didn’t mean there wasn’t trash at the beach. When he went looking for starfish, he often found trash. The odd piece of debris was bound to wash ashore.
Sure enough, he spotted something sticking out of the sand—a rusted piece of metal that looked like part of an old lantern. He pocketed it. He didn’t know if it was strictly necessary given how close he was to the NPC who issued the quest, but just in case, he’d follow what he’d read online.
With the battered object tucked under his arm, Deckard made his way to Ronan’s shop. Inside, the familiar chaos greeted him: bins overflowing with dented helmets, barrels stuffed with rusted weapons, and crates of gear that looked more like junk than treasure. Ronan sat hunched over his notepad, scribbling furiously.
“Hi, Ronan,” Deckard said.
Ronan glanced up, his eyes flickering with recognition. He cast a quick look over his shoulder, scanned the rest of the shop, and then seemed to relax. “You’ve been busy,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of praise.
“Do you mean my collection?” Deckard asked with a grin.
Ronan nodded, a small approving smile appearing. “I did well to entrust the task of preservation to you. You’re putting in the effort.”
Deckard waited, hoping Ronan would say more. When the silence stretched, he added, “Thanks! It was a lot of work, you know?” But Ronan had already returned to his drawing.
Deckard clicked his tongue softly, disappointed. He’d secretly hoped that hitting the milestone of 50 cards in his collection might earn him some kind of reward. But it was clear now—he’d already gotten his prize: the skill [Repository Recharge]. Ronan wasn’t going to hand him anything else.
“I’m here because there’s only one kind of seagull left to capture on the island: the Trash-Eating Seagull,” Deckard said, trying again.
“Best of luck,” Ronan said absentmindedly, still sketching.
Deckard waited again, but Ronan didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. So, our shared history isn’t enough to trigger a quest, huh? Figures. Sighing inwardly, he decided to try what the guide suggested.
“Do you want this?” Deckard asked, holding out the piece of trash he’d found.
Ronan’s eyes gleamed as he examined the battered lantern. “Hmm. Not bad. I’m running low on wares. My last restocking trip was... interrupted.” He swung the lantern a few times like it was a sword. “This’ll do. I’ll call it a dagger. Thanks.”
Deckard grimaced. He just took it! And he’s seriously going to sell that junk as a weapon? What a rip-off. How did I get mixed up with this cheapskate?
Outwardly, he forced a smile. “You’re welcome. If you’re running low on wares, maybe I could help you restock.”
Ronan froze, his expression sharpening as he studied Deckard. “You’d do that for me?”
“Sure!” Deckard replied, flashing a grin.
Ronan’s gaze lingered on him, calculating. Then he leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a pleased smirk. “Very good. I’ll enlist your help, then.”
Quest Issued: [Restocking the Shelves]
Description: Ronan’s attempts to restock his shop were thwarted by the creatures inhabiting Trash Islet. Help him clear the area by defeating the two creatures responsible for the attack.
Quest objectives:
Defeat the [Burrowing Crab] elite on Trash Islet.
Defeat the [Trash-Eating Seagull] elite on Trash Islet.
Deckard dismissed the notification, his grin widening. “Consider it done.”
“Don’t underestimate them,” Ronan warned, his tone low. “That crab is quick underground, and the seagull isn’t just some trash scavenger—it’s cunning. Don’t die on me. You’re doing well with your mission. The Zulmirs would hate to lose such a talented preserver.”
“I won’t,” Deckard said confidently, turning toward the door.
Two elites… It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the perfect opportunity to collect his last seagull card and one of the last crab cards remaining.
Before heading out, Deckard pulled up his inventory, his gaze landing on the cluttered collection of items he’d stashed. With a sigh, he dumped everything he didn’t need. Every feather or random item went straight into Ronan’s window. It wasn’t that lightening the load would make the swim easier. But if he made it to the islet, he wanted all the space he could muster to bring back valuable loot.
With his inventory finally cleared, Deckard left the shop and went to the beach outside the village. The rhythmic lapping of waves greeted him, and he took a deep breath, letting the salty air fill his lungs. The shore was familiar to him—he’d scoured it many times in search of starfish for quests. He’d even swum in these waters before, though not entirely by choice. Memories of Ratu laughing as he floundered his way back to the village still stung.
He spotted another player swimming toward the islet. He was only a tiny dot in the middle of the ocean.
At least there aren’t any sharks here. I think.
Deckard waded into the shallows, the chill of the water creeping up his legs. The current tugged at him, but he pushed forward. Finally, the water was well up his chest. This was as far as he could walk. As a wave came, he dove in and started swimming.
His stamina bar appeared in the corner of his vision, a thin line that he knew would drain steadily as he swam. He focused on maintaining a steady pace, slicing through the water with practiced strokes.
Life as a gamer was too sedentary, and throughout the years, one of the sports he’d taken up was swimming, particularly in the summer. It was good for the back and shoulders, which were usually stiff from all the hours he spent playing Nova Cardia.
Andy didn’t know how to swim. The odd memory brought a smile to his lips as he kept swimming. I wish I could have taught him. That would have been fun.
The village grew smaller behind him, the shoreline fading into the horizon as the lighthouse on Trash Islet became more distinct. The silhouette of its weathered lighthouse loomed against the sky.
As he approached the islet, the water started growing dirtier, carrying bits of debris—bottles, scraps of wood, and other unidentifiable junk. He adjusted his strokes, navigating his way through the trash. His stamina bar was already below the halfway point, but he didn’t slow down.
The closer he got, the more trash he found, floating like a makeshift carpet around the jagged rocks that ringed the shore. The air was different here—less salty and more acrid, with a faint metallic tang. Deckard scanned the area, searching for a safe place to climb ashore.
Finally, he spotted a gap between two large rocks, just wide enough for him to slip through. Gripping the barnacle-encrusted edges, he hauled himself out of the water, dripping and panting but alive. His stamina bar was dangerously low, and he knew he’d have to wait for it to recover before venturing further.
He shook off the cold water pooling around his feet as he stood. “Alright, Trash Islet,” he muttered, his voice cutting through the stillness. “Give me your cards.”
Ch. 38 - JustTin, Louie and HercMerc
Comments
Cássio Ferreira
Haha.
Cássio Ferreira
Did you like that he just seized the opportunity?
ByLAWphoto
I'm surprised that Jack was just posing when he captured the coconut seagull. I actually thought that he was legit so enraptured with whatever he saw on his interface that he just didn't even notice the other players were talking to him.
Coleman
After taking down the coconuts boss it’s time to… checks pun notes… nah that fruit is hanging lower then the coconuts. It’s not even an island, it’s just full of it. I half expect a raccoon scout to be there out of spite.
