Nilbog rested his back against the wall, blood slowly seeping out of him. Covering his wounds should have taken precedence, but his body no longer wanted to move. His hands fell limp beside him, covered with crusting liquid he could no longer distinguish.

Several blue screens crowded his vision. Nilbog did not possess the mind to ignore them any longer.

You have been rewarded favorably for surviving the First Phase with an above average performance.

Total First Phase accumulation:

50 points.

You may reap your rewards within the duration of the Interlude. You will not be able to spend your points once the Second Phase begins.

General

Stats & Parameters

Level

20

Strength

8

Species

Human (Shape-Shifting)

Agility

17

Class

Player Killer

Endurance

14

Profession

None

Constitution

13

Age

7

Soul

12

HP

43/130 (18.2/Hour)

Present Brawn

12.25

STM

21/140 (+1.96/Second)

Present Speed

19

Overall STM

343/700 (+392/Day)

Present Armor

13

Life Force

93/120 (1.44/Minute)

Present Spirit

16.2

Energy

Unknown

Power Rating

60.45

Skills

High Disease Resistance (Racial Skill)

Iron Stomach (Racial Skill)

Murderous Lolie (Unique)

Player Killer (Epic)

Shape-Shifting (Unique)

Seventh Sense (Unique)

Desperate Endurance (Uncommon)

Gourmet Initiate (Uncommon)

Status Effects

Shape-Shifting

Your flesh is altered.

Duration: Unlimited.

Cuisine Enlightenment

HP, STM, and Overall STM regeneration Increased by 30%.

Deep Sleep Rest Bonus increased by 30%.

Increase Spirit by 10%.

Duration: 12 hours.

Minor Bleed

You are taking .6% MAX HP Bleed Damage Per Second.

Duration: 2 minutes.

Life Ent Juice

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

Increase Health, STM, and Life Force regeneration by 10%.

Black Wine

Extremely strong alcohol. Can be used as a deadly poison against creatures with weak blood buffers.

It can be used as an enhancement, though it must be combined with other foods that possess buffers or anti-toxins.

Increases spirit by 25% for 3 hours.

Decrease spirit by 10% for 2 hours once the duration finishes.

A typhoon swirled in front of him, words, numbers, and tables abundantly blocked everything but the wretched blackness.

The only thing left was to see what rewards were available to him, but that would come later. His mind was mucky and deranged, and far too gone to tactically think, or even think, about anything. In a or two day his injuries should mostly heal, including most of his fatigue. Sleeping would further increase that.

First, he had to take off the bloody rags he was wearing. The sooner he would change his clothes, the less chance there was of him getting an infection. He had High Disease Resistance, but there were many diseases out there, and he was not immune to all of them. He’d gotten many bad cuts, but surprisingly, nothing fatal considering how utterly foolish Nilbog was in throwing himself into that dogfight. Those crazed men and women were as dangerous as the Ghouls were.

But he did not have a choice. A shiver shook him to the soul, jolting him up. Nothing like being scared witless to wake a tired body up.

He washed away the memories of the music. He reckoned that this was just the start of things. Bad things would soon happen. Worst things. Things he would have to clutch his teeth and live through. His only consolation was that he wasn’t alone in his despair. All around him men and women were groaning in agony, their bodies having given up on them as well. That was good. Let them suffer as he has. And those were the lucky ones.

The only people who weren’t moaning were the dead. Other than the Doyan. And that chubby bastard which brought him here. One old lady too.

And that witch.

Now that few things were left intact, Nilbog could see her, just as haggard up as the rest of them. Or at least, he hoped she was. All Nilbog could see was her head against the piano, unmoving. Unconscious, hopefully. Dead would be even better, though he knew far too much to be optimistic in life anymore. His life anyway. Things always seem to go batshit crazy when he is in the picture. Or maybe because he is surviving so much that his life seems especially unlucky? If he died on his first encounter with tragedy, that wouldn’t be lucky either, would it?

Nilbog swallowed, his saliva mixed with blood and sweat. This trail of thought never leads anywhere good. He lifted himself up, mustering all the little power he didn’t have. His hands pushed against the ground too, making his life slightly easier. He had some green in his STM bar, but that did not mean he could tap into it without a few groans and curses. Nilbog lifted himself halfway up, hands supporting him against the wall, before he fretted and fell forward.

Two burly hands caught him by the shoulders. Nilbog lifted his head up, meeting eyes with the Doyan. “Finally decided to give me a hand, ay?” Nilbog smiled. An obnoxious, ugly smile. It was a wonder how well he could twist his childish face.

“I had my hands full, Rover,” The Chef replied, distaste in his tone.

He wasn’t the same. The big man was tired. He was changed. They all were. The haughty look that he first gave Nilbog was not there.

“Bloody hands, these.” Nilbog clutched his teeth, slapping away the Doyan's hands. Or at least he tried to. They were too damn heavy to move, and he had no strength left in him.

Doyan held on, his face hardening, as well as his clutches on Nilbog’s punny shoulders. Oddly enough, and wholly irrelevant to current circumstances, Nilbog was suddenly reminded of the sound crushed bones make.

The numbness though was on his side now. There was no fear. Annoyance, fatigue, gloom, but not fear. He wouldn’t have minded being put out of his misery.

Doyan let his hands drop to his waist, spitting to the side. “Helping you back there might have killed us all, and you know it.”

“Yes, just like I did when you were dwindling into your own, miserable, fucking death. Twice.” Nilbog spat too, more out of necessity than choice. It was just the right thing to do.

“Horseshit! The first time you came for the weapons, and the second you came as a crazed monster. I saw you cut the throat of one our own.”

“He swung at me. Besides, I am a Rover, remember? Not human scum like the rest of you."

“He almost grazed you? That’s why you killed the poor boy?”

Nilbog chuckled, holding on hand to his chest. “Poor boy? Poor boy? And here I thought you only cared about your own hide.” Was this a good time to spit? No, probably not. “Intentional or not, I saved your regrettable life twice. That’s two favors, just in case your delusional mind is preventing you from facing the fact that you got saved by a lonely, sad, Rover. Twice, in the same fucking hour.”

Nilbog walked, or more like limped, past him.

That’s the thing about them proud bastards, being indebted to someone who is of a lower kind annoys the-

Nilbog’s right foot tripped on something, sending him stumbling for a couple of painful steps, his sore legs taking the brunt of it.

Laughter bellowed from behind him. So much for the fadeaway insult.

His foot had nearly gone into one of the holes those Ghouls came out from. Even from their graves, these Ghouls are still trying to ruin his day. This time, Nilbog did spit. Into the hole, hoping it would land on whichever made the Games.

Surviving had made Nilbog feel somewhat smug about himself. Still feeling pleased about getting away with his life, Nilbog went to get into a better garb. Sadly, all of his options had substantial holes stuck through them. It took a bit of time, but he finally found a shirt from some guy of whose neck was mostly missing, and a leather coat from someone whose head was half eaten.

He now had new clothes, albeit a couple sizes too big. He kept his pants, not wanting to wear something too large and trip on it, but most of his ripped shirts were traded. His new coat was flashy. Some type of scarce alligator leather robe it seemed. It was probably meant to go down to right below the waist, but for Nilbog, it went all the way down to his ankles. Not his type of fashion, but sadly, beggars can't be choosers of their style of exotic leather.

Nilbog began to brighten up. He had patched himself up with the tablecloth, removing the Bleed Damage. Things weren't too bad, yet. He could make it.

He next looked for something to put on his feet. What he had was too mangled to protect his soles from either the cold or the sharp ground. It was difficult, as even a women's size was too large for his feet. Shape-Shifting was something he did not want to use if he could help it.

After a few frustrating minutes of digging around, Nilbog found a pair that fit, though at that moment a part of him wished he hadn't.

He put them on regardless, their warmth lessening the guilt. He had also resupplied himself with two steel knives, and a large bag of food hung over his shoulder, enough to last him a few days. Bread and other dry food.

That’s when he turned around, and saw her, just a few meters away from him. Their eyes met. Her piercing, horrible green eyes. It was then, for the hundredth time, did Nilbog just realize how naked, minute, punny he was. He felt his bones creak against the weight of her gaze. She was searching for something. A reaction, a flinch, an oddity.

He could feel something burrow into him, and without the strength, he was not able to resist it.

Player Killer Activated.

You have failed to resist an enemy Scout Skill.

His face kept still, devoid of any wrinkles and expressions. A child in shock, moving based on a common set of self-preservation rules.

She dismissed him with a frown, going off to search, almost desperately, among the dead. Where she walked bodies turned over, flipped by some force.

Nilbog heaved, his eyes becoming wet. Weakness seeped out of his body as the shaking went through him. For the first time, panic had saved him. The moment his eyes met her his body had frozen. A deer, Nilbog was like a deer to that walking calamity.

Skill Progressed: Seventh Sense

Finalize your rewards for the First Phase for this to take effect.

Thank you, really. I love black. I've always loved black. Black is my favorite color. All hail the black.