The Taste of Canned Cola (Part 2)
The most painful part was this. I'd leveled up Nephkent to get the healing skill, and even though I could use it three times, I only managed to snag 51 coins. In theory, with 44 HP, and since it disappears at zero, you leave 1 behind, and you start possession with full 44 HP. So 43 times 4 plus 1—that's a whopping 173 coins I could've gotten. I tested healing once on creation, stabbed zombies on the way to the convenience store and used it, then cured the dyed-hair chick's zombie bite. End result: 51 coins. Fuuuuck, what a waste!
Of course, I only did these calculations because I was holed up at home with nothing but board games to do. It stung a bit, but I wasn't that regretful. I'd felt firsthand how goddamn amazing Nephkent's performance had become, right? After that, I summoned the mage too and swept up all the zombies in the parking lot. Plus the coins I already had, totaling 269 coins now. The parking lot used to have nearly 500 zombies, but it's pretty sparse these days. One more raid and it'll be spotless.
Of course, in this apartment, some folks might've turned zombie or died inside—who knows—but I'm not checking every unit. Funny thing: just a few days ago, I was too scared of zombies to even step outside. Well, I still can't in my base body, but anyway. Here I was pondering, "Where are the most zombies?" and suddenly it cracked me up. Zombie apocalypse? This is the ultimate playground.
But yeah. With 269 EXP, time to level something up. Level 2 needs 200 coins, Level 1 needs 100. Which one? The Book of Ruin got absorbed into me and doesn't tell me shit anymore. I got a skill at Level 2, but does Level 3 give one too? No answer, so I gotta guess. And I don't wanna gamble on odds.
I already know Level 2 gives a skill—experienced it twice, and the others should too. But Level 3? Who knows. The second skill was already killer; does every level give one? Or just HP/MP boosts? "Hmm."
Whichever it is, I'd have to try it to find out. If farming coins was hard, I'd probably level a Level 2. Warrior levels are huge—one level means raking in coins. More heals = more coins, right? But farming coins ain't hard. Just hit zombie hotspots. That gives wiggle room to experiment, so my call: level both Level 1s one by one.
First, builder Nephmes to Level 2.
...Sarcophagus? As in, stone coffin? Coffin? Why a coffin? Second skill's a coffin? ...Maybe a trap to lock zombies in? Anyway, whatever it was, I made one.
Right next to my bed in the bedroom. A long, thick stone sarcophagus about 2 meters, perfect size for me to fit in. Cost a whopping 40 coins. What the fuck does it do to eat 40 coins? Sand gathered and hardened into stone, but the sand filling the inside didn't vanish. Pushed it—super soft and fluffy.
"...What now."
I hate cluttering the bedroom, so just bed and wardrobe, but now this creepy coffin next to it... Did I make a mistake? Level up for nothing? But the sand's insanely comfy. ...Should I try it? No lid anyway, doesn't feel like a coffin.
Lay down—exactly as expected, soft sand cradling my whole body like lying on clouds. So damn comfy. "Oh..." Sleepy as hell... Shhh—sand rushed from all sides, covering me. "Huh?"
In an instant, it formed a lid over me. "Gah?!"
...Huh? Fully protected...? ...Oh. Oh! This is it! So I don't get eaten by monsters climbing through the window while sleeping or whatever... ...Wait, no. More than that. Oh... I get it. Protects my base body while I'm possessing a hero! That's why it's a sarcophagus!
"So how do I get out?" Kinda scary, though. Can I push the lid? Reached out—shhh, lid turned to sand and scattered away. Ah, gotcha.
"Phew." Rolled out. Honestly? Felt great lying in there. Sand so fluffy, perfectly supporting my back and knees. Lid closed—no breathing issues, felt refreshing even. But still spooked me. It's a coffin, dammit. Why name it that and freak me out, fuck.
Still. "...When possessing, hop in there." Scored something good. Builder ain't bad. Reinforced the two small windows left in the house, burning another 10 coins. This builder's a coin hog. Already 50 gone. But once built, it's set.
Released possession, then leveled the last one: mage.
Oh, new skill...? MP at 0. Used three spells coming back, didn't recover. Shit. Test it tomorrow after regen. That leaves... fill the toilet, shower, and... laundry the blankets today? Water might be short, so dumped 10 coins in the purifier. Down to 9 coins now. Blasted through 260 in one go. Ugh, blanket laundry. No washer, gotta stomp 'em by foot, and tons to do. World ended, alone, but shit to do never ends.
Next day, possessed warrior Nephkent and bolted to the convenience store. Power's out, but I knew it was exactly 6:10 AM thanks to grandpa the archaeologist's antiques—one's a 19th-century grandfather clock. Not fancy, palm-sized wind-up. The hourly dings were annoying as fuck back then, but now without it, no time. Grandpa said factories popping up made antiques like this oddly common...
Wish grandpa was here. No him, no Book of Ruin, no godhood.
Store was pitch black. Sun barely up, and facing away from it. Tried the door—locked. Clank clank. "Hmm?" "Uuuugh—" Zombie nearby. Stabbed through the window, sanded it. Barely any left around here. Cleaned steady. Peered in again. Fuck, dog mouths too close.
"Hey! Dog-face monster here. Where's my drinks, fuck."
Knock knock. "Yo, anyone? Hello?"
Break it down? Nah. Locked means someone inside did it. Probably those chicks. Dog-face monster smashing the door would thrill 'em. "Eh, tsk." Whatever, check elsewhere. My drinks, dammit. Right at the strip mall entrance—plenty stores, don't need this one. Oh! Pharmacy next? Energy drinks rock! And digestives or whatever.
Turned to go—rustle from inside. Shadows. Two women stepped out together. Crouched by door, staring. Dawn light not reaching, can't see me probably.
"Hey. Dog-face monster, yo. My drinks, fuck."
Shrugged and cursed—hey, it slips out. Click, door opens.
"...Dog-face?" "God-nim?" "Yeah, it's me. Where's my bag? I said I'd come yesterday... did I?"
They opened the door, but... movements kinda welcoming? "Come in." Polite speech too? Ah, black-haired shorty. She was always polite. Name? Forgot.
"Thanks. But where's my bag?" "Here."
Pretty heavy, but right on the ramen shelf. Looks untouched. Don't care. Grabbed bag, turned—women blocked me.
"Uh, guess I'll... huh? What?" "Th-that, um, dog-face-nim."
Tall dyed-hair. "...Um... got a question... can we... talk...?"
...Not just-talk-and-go vibe. They'd let me if so. Glanced at bag in hand. Fuck. My base body. Craving this soda bad.
"What?"
Dyed-hair spoke. "Wh-what happened yesterday? I... was definitely turning zombie, dying..." "Healed you. Need more?" "...How? How'd you... heal a zombie bite...?" "Pleased to meet you. I'm a god. No problem. I do good deeds for humans sometimes, no worship needed. Didn't I say yesterday?"
Yeah, I'm prickly now. "S-sorry. I was snarky? Truth is, I really wanna chug this. Six months without. Super excited. Wanna go home quick."
"Ah... just drink here." "I'm dog-face, fuck! No mouth! How'm I s'posed to cola—shit, too harsh again. Sorry. So, what's up?"
"...No mouth, how do you drink?" Black-haired shorty from behind dyed-hair. Hiding won't help.
"This ain't my real body. It's... like, my incarnation. Avatar? Yeah. Can't eat or drink. Kill zombies, cure bites—didn't know I could till it worked, surprised me. Anyway, avatar."
"...Avatar means... real body that eats somewhere...?" "Yeah. My base, human flesh. Take this home, release avatar, chug cola."
They eyed each other. Sunlight peeked. Dim, but enough. Resolve on faces. Nodded.
"...Us too..." Ah.
"Take us too." ...Fuck. Inner voice slipping out.
"...Nah. Why should I?"
Dyed-hair stepped up. "Fuck! You're a god! Help humans or whatever!" "Already did! Cured your zombie!" "Fuck!"
Dyed-hair desperate. "Help a bit! Please. Anything."
"W-worship, maybe he'll take us." Black-hair whispered.
Dyed-hair nodded, knelt before me. Black-hair too. Both prostrated flat.
"We worship you, God-nim. Please help us." ...Shit.