The Gift of Loot Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Gift of Loot

Read chapter 2 of The Gift of Loot by Jack_Golightly on NovelPedia.

"Jesus Christ," Thomas panted, hands on his knees. And because that felt nowhere near enough, he repeated, "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick." But he had done it. He had just killed his first monster... and he kind of felt bad. After all, he had walked into its territory, and it had defended itself. Thomas looked down at the mess of blood, feathers, and claws. Its little mouth was open, showing teeth in a last grimace. It had died in pain, and he didn't feel good about that at all. Also, he didn't feel good about the fact that he was actively bleeding. Could you get rabies from these dungeons? He'd heard there were plague dungeons. No, calm down , he told himself. Yes, there are plague dungeons, but those are heavily marked and off-limits, and guarded by... well, the National Guard. He didn't know why there were plague dungeons, why anybody would go into them, or why there had to be an entire platoon of guards to keep people from going into them, but... whatever. The point was, this wasn't one of those. Thomas's next thought was wondering what the hell his gift was. Nothing physically outward had changed. He was huffing and puffing, so apparently his gift wasn't strength or speed. But he definitely felt something go 'click' in his mind. Well, he'd find out once he finished clearing out this thing, assuming he didn't die. That was the trick, apparently. People were told the details of their gift at the end if they hadn't already figured it out for themselves by then. No, it wasn't necessary to complete the dungeon to unlock the gift. He'd already done that with his minor act of extermination. Thomas could technically step back right now and leave the way he came, gift intact. He just wouldn't get the details unless he went through the proper exit. Killing a little monster hadn't been fun. It certainly hadn't been cathartic. That was probably a good thing. It meant he wasn't a psycho. Thomas took one last, reluctant look down at the mess that was the little creature and saw... something odd in it. There was a little blue crystal kind of sticking out of the blood and feathers. With a grimace, he bent down, though he kept a wary eye on the bushes. This would be the perfect moment for something to ambush him. Tentatively, he brushed the feathers away. Part of him thought the little thing would leap up, headless and all, for one last shot. But nothing happened. It was dead because he'd killed it. Anyway, he picked up a little squat, diamond-shaped crystal. Straightening, Thomas held it up. Was this a mana crystal? According to their new galactic overlords, this was going to be the new currency. It was a perfect, squat gem about the size of the top joint of his thumb. Pure blue, somewhere between a deep and a mid blue, and kind of cloudy on the inside. Apparently, this was what made magic work. It was going to power people's magical spells, and he guessed you could use it to cultivate your own power. Somehow. He hadn't gotten to that part in the thick guides. He had been more focused on finding the right dungeon in order to not die. Could he do magic now? Thomas held out the mana crystal. "Fireball," he said. Nothing happened, so he put it in his backpack. The crystal was blue, so it was probably water-based anyway. That moment had given him time to collect himself, and he felt a lot better. One creature down, and according to the guide, there were 23 more to go. That was if he was willing to complete the dungeon. There was a lot of misinformation floating out there, but the general consensus was that a serious dungeon diver should clear out the entire dungeon before exiting to get the final reward. He'd already gotten his gift, but no one knew if his gift would be strengthened if he cleared out the entire dungeon, or if it would just result in a better reward at the end. But there was a chance that it might matter in the long run. He only got one shot at this. Okay. So he was going on a little dinosaur-chicken hunt. There was a very obv