Book 2: Chapter 8: Pungent

Book 2: Chapter 8: Pungent

Sawdust and the scent of wood filled the air, and as I read the System messages again, my mouth grew dry.

You have become a woodworking trainer!

You have advanced to woodworking 8!

You have advanced to fishing 37!

If I wasn’t sitting atop the workbench, I would have fallen to my knees.

I leaned back, bracing myself against the tabletop.

“Fischer, are you okay?” Maria’s face was concerned as she held a hand atop mine. “What did it say?”

I told her. As I said them out loud, the truth hammered into me. I had already leveled my fishing so much, and I had become a woodworking trainer...? What did that mean?

Marai spoke, drawing me from my introspection.

“If it listed them for you too... does that mean what I think it does?”

I nodded, clenching my jaw.

“The System is regaining power—for everyone.”

I checked the messages again, still not believing what I saw..

On a hunch, I willed a ‘stat screen’ to show. If this world were anything like the books and stories I’d read on Earth, there would be a way to quantifiably track progress.

As I focused my mind on the task, I felt something respond. It was there, just out of reach, so I redoubled my efforts, forcing the waking world out of my awareness as I closed my eyes.

That’s when it happened—the System spoke up, responding to my request.

[Error: Insufficient power. Superfluous systems offline.]

I barked a laugh, and Maria raised an eyebrow at me.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s nothing—I tried to see all my skill levels, but the System responded with its usual ‘insufficient power’ nonsense. I guess we don’t have to worry about the world returning to the days before the gods’ departure anytime soon...” I grinned. “Still—pretty neat to see notifications, huh?”

“That’s all you have to say?” Maria asked, a smile quirking her lips.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You just learned that the System, something that has been dysfunctional for thousands of years, has started working again... and all you can say is ‘neat’?”

“What? You don’t think it’s neat?” I blew air from my lips. “You’re hard to impress.”

I laughed as she slapped me on the arm.

“No, you goof, I think it’s beyond neat—it’s downright astounding.”

***

If it weren’t for Brad’s cultivator body, he’d have fallen over and accidentally announced his presence.

He had made an excuse to leave over an hour ago, saying he had a lunch date with his partner. It was a lie, of course, and while he didn’t feel good about deceiving two people he considered friends—and one he considered a god just waiting to happen—it was a necessary evil. He needed to gather intel, and that was that.

Brad’s hands were braced against his knees, and he was taking deep, silent breaths to steady himself. That Maria had become a cultivator wasn’t surprising—the Church of Fischer had suspected as much, but it was good to hear it confirmed. What had him buckled over and fighting to not pass out was the knowledge that the System was regaining power.

He gathered his strength and left on shaky legs, heading for Barry’s house.

***

As excited as I was, Maria had to be even more excited; she practically danced as we made our way from the woodworking shop.

We received a few odd looks when traveling through Tropica with our rod-laden arms, but neither of us was bothered—we had some new tools to test. After dropping off the extra rods at my home and collecting my tackle box, we set off toward the coast. I walked with a quick gait, while Maria skipped beside me, unable to contain her energy.

“Where should we fish?” she asked. “Would the saltwater or freshwater suit my rod better?”

“Where would you like to fish? They’ll work in either area.”

“Hmm...” Her skipping stopped abruptly, and she cocked her head to the side in thought. “The river! I haven’t had a chance to go fishing there yet.”

“As my lady wishes,” I said with a small bow, and she whacked me on the back with the butt of her rod.

I beamed up at her, entirely too pleased with myself.

“By way of apology, would you like to have the inaugural test-run of this rig? We could use an extra eel as bait for the crab pot.”

Her annoyance disappeared, replaced with a smile as she gave a sharp nod.

***

I stood beside Maria as she cast her line out.

The sun had begun to descend from its peak, its warmth hitting the right side of our bodies as we faced south. The reflective strips of the newly created sabiki rig twinkled in the light as they flew over the water and landed with an inaudible splash.

“So, how does the new rod feel?”

Maria’s eyes were closed, a soft smile on her face as she angled her cheek toward the sun.

“I didn’t realize it before, but the rod you made is a bit big for me, I think. This one feels just right.”

I shared her sense of calm, and I watched the tip of her rod with relaxed eyes, waiting for a fish to bite. The movement of the water beyond drew me in, its chaotic shifting and swirling making a sense of ease course through me.

The bonus to attraction must have kicked in, because we didn’t have to wait long; the rod bounced and twitched as a small fish took one of the hooks. As I had instructed her days ago, she waited for more to bite, and her patience was rewarded.

Something bigger joined the fray, bending the rod almost in half as it tried to swim away. Maria’s eyes went wide, while mine narrowed in thought.

She wound the line up, but as the hooks neared the water’s surface, the hooked creature swam for its life, darting down and away in a sporadic dash.

At the fish’s movement, my eyebrows furrowed further.

Maria stepped toward the water, giving the creature room to move.

As swimming down didn’t let it get away, the fish tried swimming out to sea, but upon finding that course just as fruitless, it darted back up the river. The line cut through the water with its movement, holding firm as Maria expertly stepped to and fro on the shore.

The fish soon grew tired, and while it still took runs, they were shorter and sporadic. Maria meticulously wore it down, and with a final lift of her rod, something long, brown, slimy, and repulsively hideous slid up onto the rocks.

“What the...”

Pungent Monkeyface Eel

Rare

Found in the brackish waters of the Kallis Realm, this mature variation of the Common Eel has high oil content and a pungent scent, making it unpalatable food but excellent bait.

“Whoa,” Maria said, drawing me from my inspection as she dispatched it. “It’s a mature version, and it says it’s rare! That should make it better bait, ri—”

Her words cut off as she gagged and covered her mouth.

“By the gods,” came her muffled words. “It stinks!”

I leaned down, the impulse to sniff it working against my self-preservation instincts.

“It can’t be that bad. It’s only a—hyuk!” I reeled back as if physically struck. A scent of ammonia reminiscent of smelling salts with a hint of ripe garbage crashed into me, and I similarly covered my mouth. “Alright—it’s really that bad.”

I stared at the creature, its visage somehow making its scent even more repulsive. For lack of a better descriptor, the eel looked like some errant god had made its face by combining a primate’s head with the bottom of a foot. It was covered in wrinkles and slime, looking like a hand gone pruney after staying underwater too long.

“Fish can’t really like eating this, can they?” Maria asked, incredulous. “It smells like death.”

“I know how to find out...” I cupped my hands to my mouth and yelled out. “Sniiiiiips! Assistance needed at the river mouth!”

Maria and I moved upwind from the nasally offensive sea creature, and before I could take a seat in the sand, something flew from the water and crashed into my chest. I’d seen her coming, so I braced my legs and easily caught her.

Sergeant Snips, my ever-reliable guard crab, hissed her greeting up at me. She withdrew her power, blue billows of water sucking back into her carapace.

“You got here fast—were you close by?”

She shook her sturdy head and blew negative bubbles, pointing out to sea.

“You were off exploring, huh? Well, thanks for coming. We have a question for you.”

She cocked her entire body and peered at me with her single visible eye, curiosity evident.

I nodded at the foot-looking eel.

“We want to know if that tastes good or not—fair warning, though: smell it first. The System says it’s good bait, but we’re struggling to believe it.”

Snips jumped to the rocks and puffed herself up, taking pride in the task. With sure steps, she approached the Pungent Monkeyface Eel.