The Shop and 1,500 Points

I killed an Aberration.

Even through the haze clouding my mind, that much was certain. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Before I went down, I leaned my whole weight against the giant mop. The mop pad had long since flown off to who-knows-where, so it was questionable whether this thing even deserved to be called a mop anymore — but without it, I'd probably already be dead.

Honestly, part of me wondered if I already was.

My body refused to obey me. If I'd had some food to eat, I could have held on somehow, but even if I survived what came after, I'd starve in the end anyway.

Or should I just eat that?

I stared down at the slack, sprawled thing, and while I did, I made ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sure not to forget to open the gallery.

Gotta brag while I still can. Even I had to admit it counted as an achievement. Look at that thing — it was obviously massive, right? Obviously terrifyingly strong, right? And I fought it and won. Armed with nothing but a giant mop. If that isn't a victory for humanity, what is?

But god, I was tired. If my body had been beyond my control before because of rage, now it was because of exhaustion — as if fatigue itself had taken over. Just keeping my eyes open was pushing it.

"So... tired..."

Those were my last words before I lost consciousness.

When I came to, an endless thirst crashed over me.

'Uuuggh...'

I didn't even have the strength to speak. Was this how it ended? Just as that thought began to settle in, a new message appeared before my eyes.

The Shop? What was this?

Cradling what little hope I had, I pressed the button. And beneath it unfolded a list of options. The moment I saw them, the word hope flickered before my eyes. Honestly, I'd assumed killing an Aberration would only delay my death by starvation — I never expected something like this to appear.

It felt like losing a game and then having the other team hand you a mercy ace. Only about a hundred times better than that.

I looked the Shop over from top to bottom. My fingertips had gone limp and moving was a struggle, but strength came from somewhere, and somehow, I managed to drag myself along. And then, at last, I found it — water. Without a single moment of hesitation, I pressed it.

No deliberation needed there either. I slammed the YES button and waited, practically drooling, for the water to drop.

And then.

The message blocked my view as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I rolled my eyes around dumbly, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hunting for what "Points" might be — and there it was, in the upper right corner of the screen. A letter: P.

'So that's Points, huh.'

Sitting there in bold defiance was the number 0 P. And when I looked at the water again, it was marked 1 P.

Points. Truth be told, from the instant it called itself a "Shop," some part of me had suspected I'd have to pay for something. I'd shoved that suspicion down and gone looking for water anyway. Pay with what? I had no money. All I owned was a giant mop and my own hide. I'd been hoping it would just hand the water over out of the goodness of its heart.

Yeah, right. The world wasn't that generous.

But even so, I already knew what the currency was going to be. Down in my field of vision — lying there at the feet of the collapsed me — was some enormous something. Flesh swollen as if it had been soaking in water, a body that looked like it would splatter apart if you so much as stepped on it.

'The Merchant Aberration.'

Maybe I could sell it, I thought. And that thought was exactly right.

The message appeared the instant I thought, I'm selling this. A smile crept onto my lips. I had no idea how much it would fetch, but surely it had to be worth at least one point. Right now I needed water and food, that was all. If I could buy that much, I'd be content. A hundred points would've been more than I could ask for.

With that thought, I pressed SELL.

The number in the upper right corner began to climb. It shot up in bursts of a hundred at a time, showing no intention whatsoever of stopping. Seeing it, even my cracked, twisted throat managed to squeeze out a sound.

"H... how much is that?"

My widened eyes chased the digits higher and higher. At last the leading number settled into place, and—

It stopped at exactly that number.

"Uh... uh..."

For a moment, my head swam. When a person is handed a reward this absurd, reality stops feeling real — unbelievable, almost. That was exactly the state I was in. Even the simplest math put this at fifteen hundred bottles of water. Ten thousand — the number that damned Merchant Aberration had once dangled in exchange for my heart. Enough to drink three a day and keep drinking for five hundred days.

I didn't deliberate.

Water. First things first.

Had it really been that hard?

I tilted my head, staring at the water bottles and canned food ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spread around me. I'd bought a generous stock of this much, and it had cost — cans 2 P each, water 1 P each. I'd already scarfed down about five of them on the spot.

Remaining Points: [1,455 P]

More than enough, with plenty to spare.

But still.

"So what actually happened back there?"

Somehow, I'd succeeded in killing an Aberration. Thinking back on it — setting the Aberration itself aside — what I'd put out was no ordinary human strength. I'd fought in a state that was barely conscious at all, so I couldn't say for certain, but it had to have been two, maybe three times my normal power. The crushing fatigue that swept in afterward was probably the backlash from that strength. Well, whatever. A good thing was a good thing.

"Clean work."

The moment I sold the Merchant Aberration, it vanished in an instant — as if that bloated bulk had never existed at all. And the buildings on Floor 100 that it had smashed to rubble were back, pristine and untouched. Come to think of it, there had been a message about the area turning into a safe zone, and the wreckage did seem to have repaired itself. A mysterious space, in more ways than one.

Which was probably exactly why it was an Aberration.

I kept browsing the Shop. From my look-through, I'd pieced together roughly this much:

That was the extent of it. The water came in 500ml bottles, and the cans were exactly the little size you'd find at a convenience store. If I ate generously, three a day would be ideal, but one a day would probably keep me going fine.

Which left the things labeled gacha. I had no idea what they might spit out, so I planned to hold onto a decent reserve of points — but no matter what, I wanted to press the gacha button at least once.

Of course, before that, there was something I needed to ask the gallery. Honestly, I had no clue what to pull, so I wanted recommendations — and there was also the matter of whether anyone out there had an ability like mine. Curious about all of it, I opened the gallery with those thoughts in mind.

Notifications had piled up at the top of the gallery window. Wait — this place had private messages? I pressed them, and what greeted me wasn't anything friendly. It was a stack of messages far more urgent than I'd expected.

"Uh. Uh."

First things first — I had to put out the fire.