Life Ent Juice

The Ent's condensed Life Force liquid flows within this juice, granting it great regen properties.

Increase HP, STM, and Overall STM regeneration by 10%.

Black Wine

Black Wine is a difficult ingredient, requiring a highly skilled cook in order to bring out its virtues. The cook, though had experienced hands, was not able sufficiently to remove the side-effects of such a potent drink.

Increases Spirit by 25% for three hours.

Decrease Spirit by 10% for two hours once the buff duration finishes.

Filling your advanced food slots has activated Gourmet Initiate. Cuisine Enlightenment

HP, STM, and Overall STM regeneration increased by 30%

Sleep rest bonus increased by 30%

Increase Spirit by 10%

Duration: 12 hours

Nilbog nodded. These screens knew what a good meal was made of. He could feel his body spasming in pleasure as the liquid went down his throat. Soreness and aches vanished abruptly, replaced by a warm yet fresh sensation.

Holding his knife and spoon tightly, he jolted up, getting off the ground slightly backward, then as his foot hit the edge of his chair, he lunged forward, getting on top of the table, and away from the hand that attempted to claw at him. He turned around, keeping his center of gravity low enough for quick movement.

Level 23 Young Ghoul

The Young Ghoul was approximately the same size as Nilbog, and nearly just as thin. It's ribcage pushed against its thin, dark purple skin. It had an oval, shiny head with two enormous purely yellow eyeballs, and would have looked comical if it were not for high shriek it released. The Young Ghoul had three long, razor-sharp fingers that were morphed into a dark, nail-like material.

All in all, not much uglier than the people around Nilbog.

The Young Ghoul lunged forward, swiping with both of its claws at his feet. Having anticipated it, Nilbog had jumped forward, already above the creature by the time it had overextended itself. Pivoting his entire body upon the creature’s shoulder as he fell downward, Nilbog stabbed the creature’s neck as he fell. Avoiding the spine, the 3-inch kitchen knife and polished fork had pierced all the way to their hilt, the momentum carrying it down four inches down the ghoul’s flesh.

Complete Penetration!

Your strike dealt critical damage!

You have dealt 28 damage!

You have dealt 16 damage!

You have dealt a long-lasting devastating bleed status effect!

Young Adult Ghoul will lose 16% HP (19) per second.

Blood spurted profusely from the Young Ghoul's neck, spraying Nilbog's shoulders purple.

As soon as he completed his strike, he yanked his deadly weapons from creature's neck, stepping backward and ducking. The Young Ghoul spun around with a screech, swiping at its assailant with its left hand, carrying the momentum of the turn with it.

Finding nothing, the creature’s attack once again threw it off balance, giving Nilbog just enough time to fling himself from his crouching position. This time, his fork and knife sinking themselves a couple of inches inside the beast’s eyeball.

Complete Penetration!

Your strike dealt fatal damage!

You have dealt 14 damage!

You have dealt 18 damage!

You have dealt a brief devastating bleed status effect!

Young Adult Ghoul will lose 9% HP (7) per second.

Nilbog took a half step backward, allowing himself just enough space to bring his leg in, and then right into the center of the Ghoul’s chest, knocking the small beast into the table. It landed right on top of the table, splitting the table in two. A few seconds after, the Ghoul stopped thrashing below the purple stained cloth.

Oh no, please, don’t do this to me. Please let it be a prolonged and especially...realistic dream, Nilbog hoped as he swiftly glanced around.

All the Ghouls were engaged, creating a massive slaughter. Most of the men and women weren't able to fight, and from what he could tell, there was one Ghoul for every two people. The smart ones stayed and held their ground with whatever the could, while the stupid ones attempted to escape through the locked doors. Argento, his kind benefactor, was of the latter crowd. Barely a few moments had passed before he booked it towards the door, becoming lost in the chaos.

This is bad. Really, really bad. Nilbog was not prepared for the Games. He had neither mind nor weapons for it. His heart began to beat in his eardrums, and he felt his body tense. Sore images filled his mind. Memories of the last Game, of the last time he had seen these bloody notifications stabbed at his skin. More fighting, more scraping for survival. Once against people, now against monsters.

A few pings snapped Nilbog from his hum. It was a slight, condensed sound. Quite and experimental, the same way a hesitant child might press the keys. A man fell, screaming as Ghoul made mincemeat out of him. Through the gap, Nilbog saw the pianist, the same one who was previously playing. She had her eyes closed as she played softly.

Nilbog once again found himself staring at her. There was something off about her, the way the air moved around her, the way all the Ghouls gave her a wide breadth. He spent a few dangerous moments standing still, his mind slightly blank.

She's not... completely hideous, Nilbog numbly realized.

Was she not human?

She opened her eyes, looking directly at Nilbog. Dark green holes. He could feel them tear into him, attempting to look inside his flesh. He could feel his muscles strain against the pressure, but his legs would not listen to him.

Player Killer Activated.

Seventh Sense Activated.

That was all he saw before every fiber of his being screamed at him, moving his body for him, his mind momentarily losing conscious. By the time he snapped out of it, he found his himself running, cold sweat covering his back. And terror. An abundance of it.

She was a damn Player. Why was a monster like that in a Round for beginners? Shouldn't she have been teleported out of here? Isn't that how the Games were supposed to have worked?

Dodging a few broken tables, a few men skirmishing with chairs in their hands, and a Ghoul having the feast of his life on an especially plump woman, Nilbog quickly made his way to the kitchen door, where all the pointy objects were kept.

There was too much to think of. For now, he needed to survive, and for that, he needed a weapon. Everything else can wait. He’s seen what those Ghoul teeth could do to bones, and he would rather keep all his flesh on his body at all times.

Swallowing a painful lump of weakness, Nilbog broke through the crowd, gaining vision of the kitchen entrance.

Blocking the double doors was a brawny Chef, in all his might and glory, wielding a foot long cleaver. His left hand at a heavy set of iron gloves, originally used to bring out hot pots out of smoldering brick ovens, now used to block strikes from overeager Ghouls. He was able to hold off two Ghouls, though not without getting a few deep gashes on his thick arms. Standing next to him on both sides were other workers with knives, slashing whenever the Ghoul’s tried to circle the Chef. He was a sharp fellow, holding a narrow point instead of fighting in the open.

The Ghouls from the looks of things, would eventually die, but not before dealing major damage. The Ghoul’s dark purple blood was mixed with the Chef's red, coloring the giant man’s apron in a wide variety of colors. The Chief kept attempting to get a deep cut, but each time the Ghoul stepped back. The moment they would leave the doors covering their backs, was the moment the Ghouls would strike.

The bleeding waitress on the ground, the same one that had previously served Nilbog, was proof of that. A large puddle grew from an opened neck.

The Chef and his men weren’t quick enough to lock them down, but Nilbog was. His muscles pulsed, the adrenaline soaking his blood in sedatives, urging him forward. His bones felt tight, sturdy steel instead of brittle sticks. Pumping himself forward, Nilbog charged, savoring the air’s embrace as his shoulder crashed into the unsuspecting Young Ghoul. The Chef was surprised but promptly took advantage of the opportunity. He lifted the cleaver over his head, expertly relaxing all his muscles, then came down with the weight of his entire body upon the staggered Young Ghoul.

Strikes such as these are ridiculously impractical in battle. Not only is it difficult to correctly aim and align the edge of the blade correctly, few are stupid enough not to move out of the way, but for the poor Ghoul’s case, it didn’t really have the option. The cleaver dug through its spine, severing its head.

Meanwhile, Nilbog himself was off-balance after the shove. For the ninth hundred time, Nilbog wished he weighed more, was bigger, and was three feet taller. Unable to back-step, or step under the range of the second Ghoul’s claw, he had to block.

It lunged forward, swiping with his right hand at Nilbog’s neck. The only way Nilbog could defend his neck was by placing his knuckles in front of the Ghoul’s palm, just before the sharp edges of its nails. Nilbog saw what those could do to flesh, and once again, he did not anticipate experiencing any of it.

It worked, somewhat. Nilbog was not able to completely stop the strike, but he was able to slow it long enough to duck under it. His left wrist slightly twisted, the impact shuddering his arm, but dealing no damage otherwise. Their speed was high, but their strength was not.

As he ducked forward, the beast’s left hand thrust downward, instead of swiping. Fully out of position, and under the beast, Nilbog’s only option was to step forward.

Your armor was able to slightly reduce the damage taken!

You have received 8 Damage!

You have a slight bleed status effect! You will lose 1% HP (1.3) per second for 9 seconds.

The thrust that was aimed at his neck ricocheted off his angled shoulder blades instead, taking a bit of flesh out of him with some bleeding, but otherwise keeping himself alive.

Before the pain could register, Nilbog brought his fists up with the entire force of his legs pushing him forward, twisting his upper body for each bit of force he could add. Not knowing whether the Ghoul’s groin was a weak spot, Nilbog opted out for sinking his fist inside its guts. The beast might have been quick and lethal, but it’s scrawny body and lack of muscle meant it went down just as quick. The beast hunched forward from the might of the blow, it’s teeth coming dangerously close to Nilbog’s neck. Feeling death a few inches away, Nilbog slightly pushed the beast away with his outstretched arm as he fell backward, landing on his butt.

Just as the beast readied himself to pounce, one of the Chief's men gained enough brain cells to rub together, finally realizing that now was a pretty good time to kill the undead things. He charged forward, knife shaking in hand, stabbing the distracted beast in the neck. It released an identical screech to the last Ghoul he had killed, though this one much more primitive. Unfortunately, The worker made the mistake of not retreating immediately after.

Undead did not die easily, even if they sustained fatal injuries that would stun humans. The beast turned with madness in its eyes, hand swiping bone and flesh off his chest, one of its three fingers going through his neck. He fell, bleeding extensively in fits of screams.

Nilbog lept up for a strike, but the Chef moved in first. The cleaver went in for a good four inches inside the Ghoul’s skull before it stopped.

The beast froze, its eyes meeting in the middle, attempting to look at the cleaver. Its eyes unable to see the blade inside of it, it tipped its heads slightly up, still looking for the metal until it dropped backward.

Level 25 Ghoul Killed.

Level 24 Ghoul Killed.

As he was about to pull himself up, the Chef offered him a bloody hand, purple and red blood mixed together. “Not bad for a child,” he said, spitting red blood to the side.

Considering I saved your life, sure. His shoulders burned, reminding Nilbog why wearing multiple thick layers of clothes was always a good idea. He allowed the man to lift him up. The Chef's muscular figure looked to be at least double his weight while being a foot taller than him. His hair was gelled and pushed back. It was gleaming against the bright lights from above, as if it was made for a grand ball.

“You too, Doyan. With those chops, no wonder the duck tasted great,” Nilbog replied with a nervous half-smile. He relaxed a bit, and was pleased to see his all of his bars recover faster.

HP

119/130 (18.2/Hour)

STM

121/140 (+1.96/Second)

Overall STM

521/700 (392/Day)

Life Force

120/120 (+1.44/Minute)

"So you're that bastard. Where did you hear about the black wine?" he said, not noticing, or not caring, that Nilbog knew his name. Nilbog was on his feet, yet Doyan did let not go. “These hands are too rough to belong to a child,” he said, quietly. An intimidating, and smart man, this Chef was.

Even while a massacre was occurring, he was still level-headed enough to be skeptical about the person that saved his hind. “What type of freak are you?” he said, frowning. He bent down to wiggle the cleaver out of the dead corpse, but he kept an eye on Nilbog.

He didn't spare a single look for his dying worker.

Typical. Nilbog ignored his remarks. “There are about 20 Ghouls left, and nearly 30 of us left.” His initial estimates were off, but after running through the mob he gained a better understanding of the situation. “Some idiots tried to leave the building, and ended up as food for the Ghouls when they were left in a corner. Most people did not have any weapons with them, for some strange fucking reason.” Nilbog had a good reason to not carry a weapon; but what was their excuse?

Doyan nodded, gaining a rough insight into the situation. “People grew complacent. It's been half a century. There were about seven of us in there. We killed five of them, while they got…” Doyan shook his head, turning towards his other assistant. "Leave him, he's going to bleed out. Go bring out every sharp object in the kitchen," Doyan said, and turned back to Nilbog, handing him the extra blade that was left.

Uncommon Chipped Steel Kitchen Blade

Slash: ★★★

Thrust: ★★

Blunt: ★

Durability: ★★

Good for cutting lettuce, onions, Ghouls, and ducks.

Well, at least someone has a sense of humor. This would make his life much easier--about 8 inches easier.

Doyan nodded “I read...the things that appear before me. I’ve heard much about it, but it’s all so strange, for everything to become numbered. What type of power- "

“Save it for someone who cares,” Nilbog said, his cute pink cheeks raising in a scowl. He was becoming antsy. It was never good to stand still in one place.

Doyan stared at Nilbog, a few nerves pulsing. “We’ll get by if we can get all those idiots ones of these,” he said, and pointed towards Nilbog’s newly acquired blade with his chin. The plan was simple. Either the humans would rally with these weapons, or they would all perish. “But first…” Doyan's muscles bulged, the nerves on his giant forearms pulsing as he turned towards the noise “...Who in the two faces of the fucking earth is playing the piano at a time like this?”

Nilbog shivered. The piano was gradually seeping in through the sounds of violence, blending and combining, its soft keys increasing in weight. Each human scream and monstrous screech fed its growing power. Nilbog doubted he would like this.

Seventh Sense has improved

Shit.