Absolute revulsion.

Two words, pure and simply put, was enough of an indication as to where things stood—or of where Quintin currently stood. His precious dry spot versus the chunky gore sea that wanted nothing more than to fill the empty places. Areas once traversable were now a vanishing rarity. Vapor fumes from unknown chemicals, and the process of organic breakdown all at once, had comingled to create a death cloud. He wanted to quickly plan his course out, but first, he needed to throw up.

A lot.

It was a miserable experience, one barely helped by winding strips of cloth around his mouth and nose. After he got his bearings back, he looked around for the nearest clean zone. He had to move quickly because Death would not wait for him to be choosy. He kept going after the first; from the ground, onto tank platforms, and sometimes using [PP] in his legs to cross over a lengthy gap or two. [Path of the Lotus] was surprisingly useful during his escape, as the number of steps ramped up he was able to clear greater and higher bounds with ease.

While the laboratory was certainly big, it was more wide than it was a corridor. That meant he only took a breath twice before he made it back to the entrance hole. Climbing out and over to the stairwell, he leaned against the corner with a foot on the first step.

His voice was coarse and raspy in the small antechamber, "Never... again. 'Exploration! Mystery! Fun!', the quest promised. 'Fun', more like 'Run you fool!'"

Any thoughts of joy or exhilaration he might have felt over completing the [Quest], were doused by the slop-full bucket of reality that was the aftermath. He had no more happy thoughts about liquids. No more wine, rivers and lakes, nor even a cool glass of fresh water. Not one was pleasant, and yet a sobering fact remained; he was thirsty.

Quintin ran up the staircase as fast as his legs would take him. Taking two, sometimes three stairs in one go; the sooner he was out the better.

He ran from the vision of hundreds of the [Experimental Abominations] dissolving down to nothing.

He ran up and out of the still open entrance to Insanity's Domain without looking back. Then finally, near the performance stage, came to a stop as his breath caught in his throat. He was down on one knee and coughing roughly.

My god, that was nasty!

He unwound the multi-strip bandana and pulled a canteen filled with water from [Storage]. Just as quickly as things had gone from tense but normal to full-blown terror, it was now dropping steadily back to normality. Renewing his former state with each post-battle necessity taken care of. Whether that be clearing the foul taste from his mouth, or refilling his stomach with vegetables, fruit, and bread he bought in PanQuil. It all added up to distract him from what just happened.

There were System updates ready to be dealt with as told in the form of mental pings. However, first, he wanted a place less out in the open. In his mind, the perfect spot to unwind was the office beneath the performance stage. It didn't take long before he was there, cross-legged in [Meditation] to further calm his mind and think things through.

Quintin knew he had a lot of choices to make. He wanted the strength to challenge those that would scheme against him, and for that, he needed a uniquely strong identity. Nyathamon had made him dance to the tune of lies and half-truths, though upon reflection, even that wasn't as bad as it could have been. Unfortunately, for lack of power, he could be used and stepped on by people like Nyathamon at any moment. It wasn't all depressing though, as each new [Level Up] became one step closer to deciding his own fate. To demand the respect given to the powerful.

I never want to feel that helpless again! I guess I'll start with the [Quest] completion, he thought and willed it.

[Quest]:

[Mystery of the Amphitheater]: [√]

Banished the [Mad Preta] Carlenno to the Realm of Decay.

In so doing, you have untethered the men and women shackled to his will.

They thank you! [Quest Reward]:

[Savior's Shoulder-Cape]

-Exceedingly Rare

-Cape of the Hero

-Aura

A cape only given to the bravest and most courageous of Heroes.

An ancient tradition that has been forgotten through time.

Very few of these capes still remain in an untarnished state.

•Passively heralds your heroic bearing and virtuous nature.

•Once per day: [Half Heal]

—○Healing done: 50% of your max [HP] to you or your target.

•Once per 2 weeks: [Aura of Healing]

—○Health Regeneration: +20[HP] per second.

—○Radius: 20-meters

—○Duration: 7 mins.

Evil prevailed with nearly everything for such a long time. Truth be told, I don't feel like much of a [Hero] in this scenario... May you all find eternal peace, and rest well in the afterlife.

Different to how the [Battle Robe] worked, he intuitively knew that the [Cape] was intention activated when worn. The 'heroic aura' could be turned on and off too, which was one of his worries when he first read the item's description. As bleak an outcome as the loss of tradition was, it was even bleaker still to know those [Capes] that yet existed were tarnished by chaotic means.

[Quest Experience]

[Mad Preta Carlenno] defeated.

[Expiramental Abominations Lvs. 5-12] x7 defeated.

—67,550exp. granted. [Class Level Up +6]!

+30[AP] gained. Free AP: 40

[Nameless Grappler] Lv. 19=>25 [Skills]:

[Path of the Lotus] Lv. 7=>8

[Pneumatic: Legs/Feet] Lv. 7=>8

[Sinisphere//Envision] Lv. 7=>8 [General]:

[Concentration] Lv. 6=>8

[Meditation] Lv. 1=>2 New: [Mental Sanctum] Lv. 1/1

Your mind has been tried and tested repeatedly.

Despite or because of that, you've proven

your steadfast will is your own.

*Less affected by mind-altering effects.

Just as expected, after going over his various level-ups, a new notification on the subject of [Skill] selection came. Alongside that, it was a pleasant surprise to gain a new [General Skill]. Being pushed around by Nyathamon, and then later the Headbearer, must have given the opportunity to earn [Mental Sanctum] now. The horrific battle against Carlenno and his [Abominations] was still fresh in his mind, but perhaps it had provided the final push necessary to breakthrough a mental boundary.

Now that he was level twenty-five, there was a chance he could finally unlock his [Job] and whatever that meant. The only requirement left, was to get [Pneumatic Integration: Core] as one of the upcoming choices. The pain that accompanied such a choice did not excite him, but if it meant obtaining an advantage in the present, and for future power, he would bite down hard and take it.

+New skill can be chosen for reaching [Class: Lv. 20]

—○[Choose 1 from these 3 skills]: 1. [Retribution Strike]

-Rare

-Activated

-Percentage Damage

•A devastating blow. Deals more damage the more damage you take.

•Activated: deals a portion of the overall damage taken.

•Growth: percentage of damage based on skill level. 2. [Call to the Umbral Wolf]

-Ultra Rare

-Binding Contract

-Companion

•Allows for an [Umbral Wolf] to contract and fight for you.

•[Skill: Lv. 10, 20...] grants an additional contract.

•[Intelligence]: Potential for stronger companions & evolutions. 3. [Pneumatic-Integration: Core]

-Unique

-Body Enhancement

-Evolution*

•A tailor-made progression for [Quintin Julle] because of unique characteristics.

•Progression: can encompass more areas in the form of further [Skill] choices.

•The [Core] becomes the hub for all other [P.I:] areas.

•Doubles and generates [PP] passively as a basic function.

—○[PP] regen: 1/min.

—○[PP] max: 500/500

•Further amplifies the use of [PP] in all related [Pneumatic] actions.

☼[Job] specific: allows storage of broken-down materials inside the [Core].

—○[Core] Space: 0/100 units.

The dilemma was clear: all three choices were good, great even. If there was one thing Quintin lacked in his battle chest, it was [Activated] abilities. Abilities that could turn the tide of a losing battle back in his favor. An attack that could bring an opponent down to his level in one move, turning a bitter defensive into a hopeful, front-facing offensive. That was what [Retribution Strike] represented to him; a trump card that would allow him to fight stronger foes.

Quintin had already seen what numbers could do for weaker opponents. So it was not a great leap of the imagination to understand what it would do for him. Having two or three [Umbral Wolves], regardless of how powerful they were, would provide more and better tactics in nearly every situation. It was clear what even one additional threat did to an opponent. Instead of fully concentrating on him, they would have to divert a portion of their attention away.

Finally, there was the skill progression he knew best. There was something calming in that. The knowledge of what to expect after learning a painful lesson the last time he chose [Pneumatics]. Without Vissitri, it would have likely ended up as even more of a disaster.

Even given his approval of both [Retribution Strike] and [Call to the Umbral Wolf], there was only one real choice. What provided the most opportunity for personal growth now and later was clearly to follow the [Pneumatic] progression. The fact that his mystery [Job] would unlock as well, meant he was getting more than one skill's worth of growth from the choice. The only drawback -one he was less and less fearful of- was the pain that accompanied the alteration.

With the security of the small office accounted for, he screwed up tight his determination and made his selection.

Option 3, [Pneumatic Integration: Core]...

One second,

two.

Five seconds,

twenty-five...

Although the seconds did trickle along there was no pain anywhere on his body. The only indication something was even happening, was a sensation he likened to the creation of a ball made from pulling in numerous strings near the middle of his chest. Minutes passed and it then began to feel like creeping ice was solidifying around that sphere. Pathways connecting to his [Pneumatic] limbs slowly began to form.

All the tension and stress that Quintin felt up to this point was being released in a cool bath of ultimate relaxation. His emotions and worries flew away from him. Even the messes made of men, and the origins of pure evil in the basement, were fading as if only a hazy, distant memory.

The process continued unabated.

+***+