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HC: Handyman | Ch. 36 - IronIreSlayer
🕑 Added 2024-05-07 09:50:52 +0000 UTCJack loved football, or soccer, as they called it in this sector. It was one of the vestiges of his cultural heritage. To this day, although he didnât play, he kept track of Sector 3âs First Division, always rooting for a Portuguese team to win the title.
Heâd even played on the school team. He hadn't been the worst or the best player, but he was definitely in better shape back then. After the short uphill walk from his house to the nearest park, his thighs burned, and his joints hurt right where his legs met the hips.
âMaybe. Amari. Really was onto something. Here,â Jack said between labored breaths. If he was already this unfit, how worse would he get if he spent every day lying in bed?
The park Jack had chosen to jog into was atop a hill with a commanding view of the city. Once upon a time, it would have been the perfect spot to build a castle to protect the land from invaders, but now, it was just a green bastion, one of the few green spots left in the city, sieged on all sides by cement and mortar.
Mothers walked their babies in strollers, joggers that made Jack feel like a loser, ran around with seemingly unending stamina, and couples held hands. Hearing a nearby couple around his age laugh, he couldnât help but think about Lydia and his early conversation with his father.
Jack had been avoiding his dad because he thought he would give him a hard time and an earful, demanding to know what steps he was taking to collect the money needed to pay rent. Instead, heâd been so understanding and kind. Jack dug his face into his hands.
Dad could be strict sometimes, and he was still kind of mad at him for giving him an ultimatum. However, he was a good man, and he cared. It was unfair to hate him for wanting to teach him some responsibility. Who knew? Maybe if his father had put down the hammer earlier, he wouldnât have lost Lydia.
He missed his girlfriend. It felt like forever since heâd seen her pretty face and had held her hand. Whenever he stopped, even for a minute, all the gnawing pain came back, stronger than ever. It was as if a pack of compies was running around his chest, biting and scratching. Hopefully, his father was right, and exercising would alleviate some of this hurt.
Sighing, Jack walked a full lap around the park. The sight of tall spruces, pigeons flying, and squirrels playing on the branches was different from the jungle on New Earthâno wonder it had felt so exotic and strange to him when he first left the walls. For one, none of these squirrels would trample him to death. There was also a satisfying feeling of being back in the right time period.
Jack looked left and right, and when he was sure no other joggers were passing by, he took off. Halfway through the first lap, he felt a piercing pain on the side of his abdomen. âDonkeyâs pain,â it was called in Portuguese. He never understood why it had such a stupid name, and his parents couldnât explain the idiom to him either; nevertheless, he felt it, and it hurt!
He kept going until he had finished one entire lap. It only took roughly three minutes, but it felt like three hours. The corner of his vision blurred, and the piercing pain on his side became unbearable. He laid down with heavy breaths, a flushed face, and a heaving chest. After a couple of minutes, he finally caught his breath.
As he stood up, his eyes opened widerâas if they had only been half open until he had started running. His mind felt slightly clearer. Even though his muscles ached, they also seemed to thank him for being put to work. Was this what they called a runner's high?
As Jack gave himself enough time to recover, he grabbed his phone. He stopped himself from dialing Lydiaâs number and instead looked for Amariâs channel. It wasnât difficult to find.
âWoah! Ten thousand followers?â It wasnât the best, but it was more than enough to generate income for him to support his work as a gamer. Adding that to sponsoring and auctioning in-game items for real-life money, he probably had enough to live a comfortable life.
Curious, Jack scrolled through the videos until he found what had made his quest partner reset his character.
AmariRanger vs. IronIreSlayer - Part I
Jack played the video. There was a fallen dinosaur, a huge one similar to the one heâd seen at the entrance of Embersgate Historical Society. It had a long neck and tail. He didnât know its proper name, but he had owned a toy with a similar dinosaur when he was a kid. Its corpse was so large that Jack almost mistook it for a hill.
âCome on, Slayer. Thatâs not how we agreed to share the loot,â Jack heard Amari say in a reasonable voice. The video was shot as if there had been a 3rd person witnessing the events. Amari looked the same except for having a clean-shaven head instead of the braids he wore now. He also held a beautiful, ornate bow in a fancy archerâs glove. There was a wolf by his side snarling at the one he addressed as the Slayer.
Jack would have assumed that the Slayer was a 30-year-old bouncer working at a club by his size and physique alone. However, his features and face were young, and the way he talked showed he was a teenâa very large teen. He wore a pelt on his back and walked around bare-chested. Two large swords were strapped around his waist. âSorry, Amari. Iâm making new rules,â
âOn what grounds?â Amari complained.
âFirst, I dealt the most damage in the party. Without me, you wouldnât have been able to hunt this supersaurus. Now shut up before you regret it.â
Behind the Slayer a few players laughed. They all sported an insignia in different places on their equipment, which Jack could also see at the buckler of the Slayerâs belt. It was an iron mask stuck in a perpetual scream. It was kind of disturbing. âSo the rumors about IronIre are true,â Amari said, shaking his head.
âRumors? What rumors?â The way the man spoke through clenched teeth, made Jack gulp, even though this was just a video. This was a scary, angry dude! So much bloodlust!
âThat you are a bunch of jerks. That your word is worth nothing. Never mind. This is the last time we partner up with IronIre. We donât do business with bullies.â
âW-what did you say?â
âTake the loot. Eat it for all I care. Weâre done here.â
âDid you call me a jerk?â the Slayer demanded as Amari turned his back and began walking away. âI WILL NOT BE DISRESPECTED!â The Slayer character suddenly appeared to become taller, grabbed his swords, and rushed toward Amari.
âWhatâs wrong with you? I said weâll leave!â Amari screamed as he sidestepped, and his wolf jumped between him and the Slayer. Even though the wolf was as tall as a man, it looked like a puppy compared to the Slayer. The IronIre kid was the real beast.
Mouth drooling and roaring, the Slayer lunged at the wolf while Amari shot cover fire from the back. Amariâs companions also joined in throwing bombs and arrows at the members of IronIre. Warriors clad in metal gear ran to assist the wolf in fending off the mad berserker.
Much of what happened after that was chaotic and went right over Jackâs head. He had zero experience in PvPing and knew little about the classes and skills. All he saw was flashes and blurs.
Even to his untrained senses, however, it was clear that the Slayer was an excellent player. His health bar floated madly between the red and the yellow, and he took on non-lethal attacks while dodging the truly dangerous ones. By the time the five-minute video was over, IronIre members were the only ones standing.
The video ended with a message from Amari, explaining some of the highlights, what he and his teammates had done wrong during the battle, and what IronIre had done right, and then sharing how other players should learn from his mistakes and always sign a contract using a player with the scribe profession as an intermediary. It was a hefty fee, but it was worth it.
The comment section was filled with zealots from the IronIre mercenary guild expressing their support for the Slayer. At the same time, other players denounced that this type of behavior was unacceptable and talked smack about the IronIre guild. It was all fuel to a fire that, instead of burning Amari, warmed him in the end. Jack had to give it to Amari. Even though the footage spelled a large defeat to Amari, heâd still been smart enough to turn it into one of his most upvoted videos.
âAmariâs smart. And this Slayer guy is a real jerk,â Jack said. He wrote a comment saying that the Slayer was a bozo that was probably grumpy because he hadnât changed his diapers that day, and he put the phone down.
He had been curious about who had wronged whom, but Amari was on the right. His frank manner of speaking had triggered the fury of this bunch of bullies. He felt for him, but he didnât feel too sorry. This series of videos would earn him a pretty buck.
Jack picked himself up again and made himself run another lap. Strangely, it felt both harder and easier than the first one. As he lay on the ground for a second round of rest, he considered what he would do once he returned to the game.
He had tried crafting, dungeoning, and running an expedition outside, the three main avenues available to players. He could now make an informed decision about what he would do with his character.
Leveling his professions by grinding was great for perfecting his crafting skills. If he wanted to make a living as an artisan, every little trick would help him gain better crafting grades, translating into more valuable items and profit.
Dungeoning had been challenging but also fun. It was also a surprisingly good way for him to acquire equipment and skills. He had gotten most of the gear he owned from the pyramid.
However, expeditions were hands-down the fastest way to progress. He had gained levels in his character and both his professions, killing three birds with one stone.
He bit his lip as he reviewed the pros and cons of pursuing each. It wasn't because he was feeling patient but because he was so tired that he could hardly move, and he had a surplus of oxygen running through his brain.
Grinding wasn't necessary since he didn't plan to live off crafting. After he turned in this quest, he planned to make a living as a dungeoneer or running expeditions.
He would finish the rare quest if he could complete two or three more quests like this. He was all up for whatever got him from point A to point B the fastest. He would do a few more quests to get his hands on a rare item that sold for more than 500 credits. That way, he could pay his father's rent and chill out for the rest of the month. Jack stood up and decided to try some push-ups. He was proud of himself; he was able to do two.
Jack dragged himself back to his house, happy it was a trip downhill. Exercising had made him miserable and relaxed at the same time. He was glad he wouldnât feel his sore muscles while he was logged into New Earth.
By the time he got back, his father had left, probably to pick up his mother from her work at the hospital. He showered, put on some clean PJs, and had a bowl of cereal. He trudged up the stairs and put on his helmet. It was time to get back to work.
