yasinovel Chapter 31. Yer a Wizard, Joseph! Act Like One, Part I
Chapter 31. Yer a Wizard, Joseph! Act Like One, Part I
Chapter 31
Yer a Wizard, Joseph! Act Like One, Part I
A car horn blares at me and I lift my hand apologetically as I whip my steering wheel and pull my car off to the side of the road into an unoccupied parking meter spot. The blue window that had slammed into my vision a moment earlier like an overly-eager pop-up window from hell, is still hovering in front of my face, populating with neat, silvery script.
New Quest!: The Fundamentals of Magic 101
Description: Hello, Participant! You selected the Spellcaster Discipline. Despite this, during the Tutorial Stage of the God Game, you have shown a penchant for failing to take your Discipline seriously. To complete this Quest and remain in good standing as a Participant, you must make progress as a Spellcaster.
Objective: Learn 1 new Spell (0/1)
Preliminary Timer for Objective: 48 hours, 00 minutes
Penalties for Failing to Complete Objective Prior to Expiration of Preliminary Timer: Participant will be inflicted with the Decay debuff until Objective has been completed.
I barely have time to process that absolute bullshit before a second window snaps into existence.
Decay (Debuff)
[Description: User inflicted with Decay will slowly and painfully lose base points in Stamina and Constitution until both hit 0, at which point all organs will begin to atrophy. The Decay status has a different set of effects if the inflicted individual is of the Undead.]
What the fuck.
WHAT. THE. FUCK!
Decay?... Decay?! My eyes quickly scan the Quest description one more time. Then the debuff’s description… Just to be sure I read that right. This isn’t some slap-on-the-wrist penalty.
“You will slowly and horrifically rot to death doesn’t seem like a fair consequence for not learning a new spell…!” I shout at the System interface. Especially when I only have forty-eight hours! It was some next level bullshit.
I blink, half-hoping the screen will flicker, change, telling me this is some kind of joke.
The interface does flicker. The screens disappear. Replaced by a small, blinking counter in the top right corner of my HUD: 00:47:58.
I groan. I have forty-eight hours to learn a Spell.
Is that even possible? My mind races. I haven’t gotten any new Spells through leveling up. Was I supposed to? Or was gaining Spells on leveling up restricted to those with Classes? Or were Spells only obtained through Gates?
I don’t fucking know… But I need to find out, and fast.
My breathing’s a little too fast, my hands gripping the wheel tight enough that my knuckles go white.
Okay… Okay. Calm. Logical. Think it through.
I squeeze my eyes shut, push the panic down. I try to smother it.
Dad’s voice pops into my head. He had a particular phrase from Seneca he sometimes quoted… What was it, again? Fire is the test of gold; adversity, of strong men.
If I was going to become stronger, like I planned, then this would just be another challenge in a series of adversity that I would need to face. I take in a deep breath through my nose, letting the air fill my lungs. Then, I slowly exhale.
I shift into drive, and floor it toward home.
I barge into my room, head spinning, heart still hammering from the glowing death sentence that just popped up in my vision. I need a plan. I need to figure this shit out.
Jelly Boy is sitting on my desk. His little translucent form pulsating gently as he watches TV on my laptop. He’s perched right in front of the laptop screen, oozing in place, eyes fixed on the bright back-lit scene.
And what, exactly, is he watching?
I squint.
The Deal or No Deal Island logo flashes across the screen. Contestants in swimsuits clutch briefcases, sweating under the hot Fijian sun while the host—who looks familiar, but I’m terrible with celebrity names—grins like an evil genius about to unleash his master plan.
I blink.
Jelly Boy’s eyes turn toward me, his little slime body vibrating in greeting.
“…Getting into reality competition shows now?” I ask.
Jelly Boy buzzes happily, his body jiggling like a Jell-O mold that just got smacked.
Well. Can’t fault his taste. Could be worse. Could be Love is Blind.
I shake my head and pull up my Menus. If I’m going to stress myself into an early grave, I might as well do it while claiming my daily reward.
A glowing notification blinks at me:
[Daily Reward Available! Would you like to claim?]
I mentally assent to the request window and am greeted with a ping!
Congratulations! You have received:
Adventurer’s Cookie (x3)The cookies materialize in my Inventory—little caramel-colored discs of absurd nutritional value, each one dense with enough sustenance for two days.
I pull one out and toss it to Jelly Boy. He catches it mid-air, absorbing it into his gelatinous form with a gleeful little warble. The cookie begins dissolving instantly, little bubbles forming in his translucent body.
I pocket the other two. Because if I’m really about to start taking this whole “Gates and Magic” thing seriously, I need to be prepared. Last thing I need is getting caught in a Gate for weeks without any food or water.
I grab the towel off the hook behind my door, slinging it over my shoulder. “Alright, I’m gonna shower off,” I announce to no one in particular. Well, to Jelly Boy, technically. He wobbles in acknowledgment but stays glued to the screen, thoroughly engrossed in the fate of some poor bastard sweating over a briefcase.
I turn toward the bathroom but hesitate. My brain is still buzzing from that quest notification. The Decay debuff. The 48-hour timer. If I don’t learn a new Spell, my Stamina and Constitution will start rotting away. Literally. I run my hand across my face. God dammit.
I can’t just wing this. I need information.
With a sigh, I sit on the bed, towel still draped over my shoulder, and pull up the Discussion Channels menu on my System interface.
And immediately regret it.
The Discussion Channels functionality is still a nightmare. Clunky. Disorganized. It’s like someone took an ancient web forum, let a caffeinated squirrel build out the organization, and then set it all on fire for good measure. Oh, and forgot a
The world sharpens around me. We’re in a snow-covered glade. Bare trees stretch toward the sky, their skeletal branches crusted with ice. The ground beneath me is a thick, undisturbed sheet of pure white snow, and above, the sky is a piercing, cloudless blue that stretches on for as far as I can see.
It’s beautiful. Majestic, even.
It’s also freezing my goddamn ass off.
And then realization dawns on me like a fucking anvil.
Not my ass.
My legs.
My legs are cold.
My exposed, completely bare legs.
I look down.
Oh. Oh no.
Silence.
I slowly look up to find both Clyde and Veronica as they, too, notice my current state of being.
Clyde is the first to react. He tilts his head, brow furrowing. “Bro…” He squints. “…are you wearing booty shorts?”
Veronica immediately snaps her gaze away, a slight rise of color on her cheeks as though she’s experiencing secondhand embarrassment on my behalf. A small chuckle escapes her, quickly followed by another that she tries—but fails—to smother with her hand.
Clyde, however, does not look away.
Clyde is staring directly at my thighs with a look that can only be described as a mixture of confusion, amusement, and some sort of deep existential questioning. Then, he starts to laugh. Hard. His laugh echoes through the naked trees.
I yank my insulated coat closed, but it does not solve the problem. My legs remain completely, stupidly, obscenely exposed. Like a winter-themed Winnie-the-Pooh.
“Ha, ha, ha. Yeah, yeah,” I say, voice tight with suffering. “It’s a long story. And I forgot about them. But—”
I don’t even get to finish the sentence.
Because that’s when the squirrels attack.