Tunnel Rat

Chapter 335: Breaking for Lunch



Despite a terrible death in the murky deep, Milo was in high spirits. Death in the game was inevitable at some point, especially when taking risks the way he did. He was happy with the outcome. He'd killed dozens, maybe hundreds of eels, and technically, they hadn't killed him. As usual, the system had taunted him with a view of his tombstone. : The Hammer Steel vault and a small chunk of the ship were left sitting precariously on a ledge surrounded by eel parts and hull wreckage. A tombstone sat nearby. "Here lies Milo. May he rest in pieces."And because his gravestone was there, he knew where the shipwreck was.

The reward screen flashed three times and Milo found himself kicked from the game.

THE EEL-MAGGEDON IS HERE, AND THEY BLAME YOU!!

Frankly, they might have blamed you even if this wasn't your fault, which we both know it is. Lucky for you, no one sheds tears for an invasive species. (Hint: That includes both you and the eels.) With the demise of 97% of the eels in the bay, fishing will improve as thresher-squid, sharp-spined tuna, and leg-breaker crabs return to this habitat. Some of the fishermen will owe you their thanks. The complainers will be dead. And there are a lot less pirates around. (Another Invasive Species!)

Quest: Improved Fishing has been completed—reward: 5 Enhancement points.

Quest: Evict the Pirates! has been completed - reward 20 Enhancement points.

Eel-slaying Rewards: 6000 points applied to skills used and 18 Enhancement points

-Tier 3 Named Eels Slain: Slither-Tounge, Gnurlglock, Waveskimmer, Scalespinner

-Tier 3 Elite Eels Slain: Bluebolt, Shipstalker

Now, go grab lunch or collect cat memes or something constructive for 8 hours. Don't worry, I'll survive without you, somehow.

Oh, and Welcome to Level 14! It's amazing what a little eel-slaughtering can do to improve a person.

With some mandatory downtime, Milo took Llama's advice and ate lunch with Mama while checking on his automatic systems. He'd barely arrived in the kitchen to look for food when she saw him and pushed him to the table, putting food in front of him. After only one bite his appetite surged. He finished his sandwich and reached for the bowl of snacks that was an everpresent fixture on the dining room table. This time it was more of the twisty stale bread with salt.

Minor problems were cropping up, but everything was fine for once, and there was even a report that his Clog-eater system was cooperating with the neighboring systems to fix problems that affected both areas. He found that interesting and read the report again, then delved into the details, finding that Rhebus had purchased the system he'd designed. That made sense to him. His designs were the most efficient automated system available. It simply hadn't occurred to him that they'd also be interested, but they did have four times the volume to deal with, and their sections were in much worse shape. He was proud that they'd seen the value of his machines. Then the ramifications hit him, and he quickly brought up the schematics of the entire area controlled by Rhebus, tracing all of the air, water, and electrical systems. He found some very interesting areas that wouldn't be on any other maps.

He could see that queries had been made from their overworked system to the admin. No one had read the reports yet, and entering through the convenient backdoor let him change the query to a simple progress report indicating that the project of fixing and repairing all the systems was moving faster than expected. It wasn't a lie, just a removal of the reason for the increase in efficiency. In the future, any reports to Rhebus would neglect to mention any help from his machines.

The next part had to be done very, very carefully, using the agreement between the Central Stations to bring in a special set of drones to move through the vent system and drop off a set of passive sensors. Rather than broadcast, the drones would retrieve them later, giving him access to limited video and audio of the hidden area, glimpsed through the air vents. He started with his old designs but modified them for low power usage and maximum stealth. He had to assume his siblings were at least as paranoid as he was and would have ways of noticing the 'noise' from any bugs. After two hours of design work and two hours spent shepherding his fabrication systems, the new sensors were ready and on their way to being installed.

He reached for his sandwich, only to find nothing there. Looking up, he found half the family at the table and the other half setting out dishes. Brad nudged him from his left, "Coming up for air? Dinners almost ready." Milo nodded sheepishly; he was starving again. His body was efficient at repairing damage, but it needed fuel. Brad and Butch helped him clear away his computers and screens before they all sat down to dinner. No one asked what he had been up to, but the general consensus was an expansion to Run, Run, Ramona so they could use more of the pipes and ductwork they'd seen on the screens. Milo thought that was a great idea, and made a note to work on that expansion as soon as he could find the time.

Dinner tonight was refrigerator soup and biscuits. There might be dozens of storerooms filled with food, but Mama didn't see that as an excuse to waste food, and the leftovers from their meals were better than anything they had available from the food processors. The remains of several pot roasts joined with fresh vegetables and anything else in the refrigerator in the largest pot along with two gallons of water and a box of chicken soup mix. Cooked for four hours and served over fresh biscuits, it fed the family and finally filled Milo up.

After everyone helped with the cleanup, Big Butch declared it was homework time. Everyone grumbled as they headed to the pods, Milo included, since it seemed to be a requirement of the homework ritual. Milo found that while he didn't have to take part in the Geometry lesson, Big Butch expected him to create the homework and test problems. Milo was delighted and happily set to work creating several hundred problems for his friends' and siblings' enjoyment. He finished in twenty minutes, but they'd be in their homework session for two hours. He spent time looking through the security cameras scattered through the habitat, wasting some time until he could head back into Genesis and see what was waiting for him.

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Deja Vu!

You're back where you started from on day one, waking up in the worst inn in town wearing beginner gear. And let's not forget those lovely Death Effects. Enjoy those for a few hours while you ponder your wicked ways.

His small room at Ralph's Inn was just the same as it had been when he'd started playing. Ralph had been quite happy to rent it to him a month at a time when he returned to Shadowport. He hadn't planned on dying, but it was always a possibility. Respawning after his death meant suffering through four hours of reduced stats along with weakness and fatigue. Luckily, he had an emergency stash just for these circumstances. A small wooden box under his bed held stale crackers and a ball of hard Parmesan cheese to go with them. The cheese was hard enough that he needed to use a claw to cut long slivers of it.

Fortified by the small snack, he managed enough willpower to summon his Smugglers Stash and get dressed. He'd died wearing next to nothing and was glad to avoid the embarrassing 'death run' that he saw other players doing. What to wear brought up the question of who to be. It might be good to have Milo not show up for a day or two until he found out how things lay. He didn't know if people had seen him leading the eels to the docks despite his clever disguise. For all he knew, the pirates had wanted posters with his name on them. He decided it was time for Professor Tallsqueak to explore the town.

Black pants and sandals first, then the Runeboned Cowl transformed into an Ivory-colored robe, and his 'wizards staff' completed the look. Every proper spellcaster needed a staff. Finally, he reshaped his goggles into a set of old-fashioned spectacles. They were too useful a tool not to keep handy. Likewise, the screwdriver was tucked into his pocket. He should talk to Hecate about the pre-system tools. He'd get around to that, someday. Certainly not today, with a resurrection hangover to deal with.

Opening his door, he saw no one in the hall and made his way to a handy window that had probably been used by thieves for generations to avoid Ralph and his bad breath or requests for payment. A beginning player would find it hard to reach the roof from here, but even in the bulky robes, it was trivial for him at this point. He traveled slowly along the shadowy rooftops, observing the city. The area by the docks was a mix of new construction and burned buildings. Two new bars were being built, ramshackle affairs made from wood salvaged from the bay. Bartenders were serving drinks even as the walls were going up. At the water's edge, a dozen pirates were constructing a large raft with a simple sail, having decided that Shadowport wasn't for them. Milo was amazed that they'd brave the ocean in such a vessel. After his trip with Captain Pike, he'd prefer an airship that never got near the water.

The Kulags were hard at work stacking the better lumber salvaged from the shore onto carts and hauling it away to where houses were being built by the new docks at the edge of the cavern. All the homes near the docks were gone now. Burned in the fires, torn down, or turned into bars and pirate hang-outs. Shanties and shacks filled the open space, although he saw one building being torn down by pirates hauling the walls to the shore to build a second raft.

In the middle of all the chaos sat the huge building that he remembered washing his clothes in and taking a bath. The sign above the new doors proclaimed it to be the Golden Trove Casino. Along one wall, someone had painted crude letters saying, "Sharks Suck Bilgewater." Not everyone seemed to be a happy customer. His goggles showed him glowing magical wards on every window. Someone was taking their security seriously. The guards at the door greeting customers were dressed similarly to the sailors on the submarine, with top hats, vests, and monocles. Milo vaguely knew what a Casino was, but the details confused him. People enjoyed going into them with money and leaving with nothing. Games were played, but somehow no one won. In the movies and anime he'd watched, they were popular places for rich and powerful people to meet up with spies and criminals. And eat. He remembered they had large feeding troughs of different foods called 'buffets.' His stomach growled and reminded him to eat. That decided his course of action, it was time to find lunch.

That proved a harder chore than he'd expected. Whatever it was they served in the taverns and bars filled with pirates and scavengers, it smelled horrible to him. He'd resigned himself to traveling to the other end of town when a smell tickled his nose. He followed it, identifying the smell of seafood, vegetables, and spices. Getting closer, fresh-baked bread and grilled eel were added to the mix. He turned a half-familiar corner and realized he'd followed the smell to the church where Brother Ignatius lived. The doors were wide open and dozens of people were setting up tables and bringing out food.

Several heads turned in his direction, some puzzled, some smiling and wary, while one or two were hostile. Ignatius stood on the steps and noticed him. "A visitor and pilgrim to our fair city. Please, join us. We celebrate the safe return of the fishing crews and give thanks for a bountiful harvest from the sea."

Professor Tallsqueak bowed low. "I would be honored to join you in your celebration."

The frowns turned to smiles and if a few people had reservations about the strange ratkin, they kept their thoughts to themselves.


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