Bunty woke up wishing he had dreamt of his time with the apparition. They had looked like Neer, spoken like him and displayed the same body language. He had gone over the same key memories over and over again, trying to keep a hold of his image of Neer. Now, Bunty no longer knew how much of them were real and which bits he had filled in himself to make them brighter. Considering Neer’s mental health, there had to be times when he wasn’t as amazing as the memories claimed. The little time he had spent with the apparition, even though it wasn’t his real brother, was now a fresh memory in the bank.

The innkeeper had kept her promise despite the lack of paperwork. When Bunty showed up the night before, she hurriedly prepared a recently vacated room for him. By the time he finished his dinner, it was ready with a hot bath in an adjoining room. The following morning when he called an attendant for tea, they arrived with a breakfast of grilled sausages, eggs, fruits, and an assortment of pastries.

“What brought this on?” Bunty asked the attendant. “Did something change since my last visit?”

“We had visits from people wearing the Boleyn house’s colours,” she replied, doing her best to avoid eye contact. “A lady from the Fair Trade Federation came by asking too. She paid to house you for a whole week and left a letter.” She nodded at the envelope with Lydia’s handwriting on it. “The landlady wanted to give you the night to rest before bothering you with any of it.”

"Thank her on my behalf, then." Bunty made room on the desk for the overladen tray and tipped the woman generously. He could afford to. The attendant had been prompt with his meal and bath the night before as well. "I was in desperate need for nourishment and rest last night."

"Hope you don't mind me saying, Mr Sen, but you do look much better." She shot him a motherly smile. "If I hadn't helped you out of the tub after you fell asleep, I'd think you were a different man altogether."

Heat collected in Bunty's ears as the memory came back to him. The bath had been so warm and comfortable that he had dozed off. When the attendant roused him, the water had chilled to lukewarm, and the bubbles were all gone. She'd seen everything. He had nothing more to say, so he smiled and nodded. The woman took the hint and left.

Since Gwyneth wouldn't meet him until midday, Bunty took his time with breakfast. Even though the food was delicious, his mind wasn't on it. Thoughts of Explorer and the pen's two summons plagued him. He knew that one of them would be a coat—Baba's old garment had little life yet. The sleeves hadn't further deteriorated overnight. They'd suffered the slime lord's gastric juices twice and taken a beating from lizardmen in between. He didn't need a leatherworker to tell him there was no saving them. Even though a few Climbers were trying to make sleeveless coats fashionable, Bunty thought them impractical. A summoned coat with the ability to harden on command would serve him better than anything in the market anyway.

Bunty couldn’t make heads or tails of what to do for his second summon. He half wanted to design something that would work with traps. Bunty thought of creating a pendulum axe or log—it would take less ink than summoning Red Charger’s avatar. The tentacle summon would work sufficiently as rope too. Their pair would work together sufficiently. On the downside, it would be too situational a tool. A little bit of elbow grease would get him the same result.

The second option that came to mind was a barrier or shield. Even though Bunty wanted to climb with minimal swashbuckling, recent experiences had taught him that fighting was inevitable. Most Cores and Gates would demand he fight to access them. As a result, something defensive to block a powerful attack or use as an obstacle would go a long way. Bunty’s axe play demanded he fight at close-range. As a result, a shield would help in that department too. He worried that the base tentacle summon, coat, and the stiffen command would make it redundant.

Bunty returned to his initial thought: a spear. The only reason he hadn’t bought a new stave weapon was because he had too much to carry. Now, thanks to Slimeskin and the accompanying utility spells, he no longer had to worry about rope, hooks, or clamps. That was most of his carrying weight gone. He locked in his decision while finishing breakfast on a sweet pastry and summoned his spirit.

Explorer’s Fountain Pen finally felt at home in Bunty’s hand. Until now, it had been nothing more than a shiv to stab into an opponent’s neck or eye. Now he could put it to real use. He appreciated how it would function as well. It was daunting, but the concept of using his creativity to climb had him excited. He got out his notebook and started sketching.

Since there was nothing overly complicated about a spear, Bunty started with the coat. His first was a copy of his current one but formfitting around the waist. Then it occurred to him that the ink didn’t need to exist as thin sheets but could exist as little blobs too. So, he drew the second version to have thicker bits around the shoulders, forearms, spine, breasts. If they maintained a slime’s jelly-like texture, they’d mitigate most blunt attacks. When fighting a foe with sharp weapons, he could use the stiffen command to harden them and act as armour.

“This’ll be the first summon,” Bunty declared, hoping the fountain pen would respond to his words. “Do you understand me?” He sighed. “How the hell will I know whether the summon is slotted or not?” The spirit didn’t react or behave any differently from before. He labelled the drawing. “This is a coat. I want my first summon to be this coat.”

A pulse thrummed within the pen. Bunty almost jumped out of his skin when it sent a shockwave through his body and then a shiver up his spine. Heart thumping with excitement, Bunty grabbed a blank piece of paper and wrote the word coat on it. As soon as he finished the last swipe of the ‘t’ and dotted a period next to it, ink burst from his spirit’s nib. Little black tendrils climbed up his arm to his shoulders and slowly consumed his entire body.

It took a minute for the Slimeskin to finish taking shape. When it finished, Bunty found himself wearing a replica of his drawing, but much to his disappointment, the similarities only lasted for a moment. Gravity made the thicker blobby bits sag. They moved down Bunty’s back and torso before collecting under the coat’s bottom. He’d never manage his hyper-mobile fighting style with the unbalanced weight.

“C’mon Explorer.” Bunty sighed. “You could’ve given me more of a clue.”

Bunty tried the spear next. He was almost as unsuccessful. The stave formed just right, but the spearhead refused to hold its shape. The point and edge only kept its form for a moment before turning into a useless blob. The weapons still maintained its balance and would function brilliantly as a bludgeoning staff, but it wasn’t what Bunty wanted. After some thought and a couple more tries, he gave up on the spear. Explorer had said there’d be limitations to what I could create until further upgrades. Perhaps blades were still out of his reach.

When Bunty’s attempts at figuring out the coat too, he released his spirit in frustration and stuffed another pastry into his mouth. Lydia’s letter demanded his attention, distracted by breakfast and his spirit. He’d almost forgotten about it. He appreciated her paying for a week of room and board but didn’t expect the FTF to turn a profit so soon. Bunty hesitantly ripped open the letter and read its contents.

The site had proven more profitable than either of them expected. Besides the mountain covered in ice spiders, they’d found several nests of an avian creature too. Like the arachnids they too were undocumented. Appraisers had valued the feathers highly for their insulation and beauty. Bunty couldn’t help but feel taken aback. Lydia had deposited a bonus in his bank account, and the paid-for room and board was the cherry on top. Since Baba had first-hand experience with the East India Company, he expected the FTF’s dealings to be less than honest. The next time he met Lydia, Bunty planned on thanking her with a decent bottle of wine. Then again, she was American. Perhaps she’d appreciate good coffee instead.

Since Gwyneth wouldn’t become available for several more hours, Bunty dedicated himself to figuring out the coat. There had to be some way to make the thicker bits stay in place. He was engrossed in making a more detailed sketch when a knock at the door wrecked his focus. Thinking it might be his new climbing companion, Bunty rushed to the door.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Bunty and pulled him in for a hug. “Fatima saw you leaving the tower,” Baba said. “I was hoping you’d come by to see me later today, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”