Not Just One
Sreeeng…
The moment the Lily of the past vanished, the space rippled and reformed, returning me to where it all began — the ruins.
Past-me had thrown a fit, yelling at me to stop spouting nonsense, but in the end she couldn't put up any real resistance and simply faded away.
Nonsense it may have been, but nonsense or not, it happened to be the truth.
If my theory holds, she'll be reborn as someone in Deoen and live out a second life there.
"I'm back. Did I keep you waiting long?"
"She asked me some personal questions. It's personal, so I won't be sharing."
I'd revealed my identity openly enough, but that didn't mean it was something everyone needed to know.
Scrolling past the grumbling of the chat window that had returned to normal, I looked around at my surroundings.
The last thing I remembered was descending to the tenth floor of the underground ruins — and the moment I arrived, I'd been whisked straight into the Interference Dungeon.
And now that the dungeon was gone, the true face of the ruins' tenth floor spread out before my eyes for the first time.
A space roughly the size of the ninth floor above. Murals chronicling centuries of history covered the walls, and at the center stood a towering altar, golden fire rising beneath it.
"An altar. And on top of it…"
Bubbling and sizzling.
"…A food cart?"
There was a food cart.
Why on earth was that in the middle of ancient ruins?
"Ah, we have a customer."
And the shopkeeper was, of all things, a raccoon.
A golden-furred raccoon wearing a chef's hat. He sat on a chair too large for his body, busily cooking away. Tucked into the brim of that pure white hat gleamed a golden token — Scorpio's token.
"Welcome. Though it isn't quite time yet for a user to be arriving."
"You said the same thing last time."
"Did I? Impressive."
The raccoon grinned and rapped his golden ladle against the pot.
I took a seat on the stool in front of the cart. It was a backless, uncomfortable thing, but that's what food carts were all about, so I wasn't about to complain.
Sizzle… fwoosh!
The raccoon said nothing about me sitting down, simply carrying on with his cooking. His personality was a far cry from the raccoon at the Honor Shop or the one on Primordial Island. Those two had been bubbly and childlike, while this one carried the air of someone who had lived through a very, very long stretch of years.
He looks fairly strong, too.
"Are you the Token Merchant?"
"Not by rights. A merchant's duty belongs to this place's true master."
The raccoon gave his hat a couple of taps. The emblem of Scorpio dented slightly under his stubby fingers. Apparently, Scorpio or one of his underlings was supposed to be running this stand.
"So you came to cover the shift."
"That's right. Still, it's not bad. Getting out now and then is its own kind of fun."
"I see."
"Besides, it gives me a chance to show off my cooking."
Stubby hands sliced through ingredients with practiced, economical motions. Clearly someone who'd spent years behind a cutting board.
"In any case, congratulations on clearing the ruins dungeon. With the tokens you've gathered, you may purchase whatever catches your eye."
With that, the raccoon lifted away the black board he'd been cooking behind.
"Ooh."
A fairly convincing spread of dishes lined up before me, each in its own section with a price written beneath it.
"You're holding eight tokens in total, so you'll be limited to this row here."
"Hm? What about the ninth and tenth floor rewards?"
The ninth-floor quest had given five tokens, and the tenth floor should have given even more. At my question, the raccoon — busy sprinkling something salt-like over a five-token fish cake — just chuckled.
"You didn't clear the ninth floor — you entered from above it. And the tenth floor's reward, you already received. Quite generously, if I recall."
"…Hmm. That is true."
I had earned the chance at a fourth awakening as the Interference Dungeon's reward. But eight tokens still didn't feel like enough for anything worthwhile.
"Ah, then let me add these."
I handed over the Grace of Scorpio I'd obtained from defeating Scorpio's General. The golden band on the item indicated it could be exchanged for one token apiece at the Token Merchant.
The raccoon took the graces without much reaction.
"Three of them, so that's three tokens. That brings you to eleven."
"Could you walk me through the menu?"
"Gladly."
The raccoon pointed to the first dish — a one-token order of fritters.
"A dish that permanently raises a random stat by five. Mind you, it counts toward unique stats too, so the more awakenings you achieve, the better this one gets."
"Stats."
I didn't pay much attention to stats, so it didn't do much for me, but for ordinary users it was a pretty meaningful number. With eleven tokens, buying all of them would net fifty-five stats — roughly the equivalent of leveling up twenty times. Leveling offered more than stats alone, of course, but it was a good deal either way.
"Next is my personal recommendation. Dumplings, three tokens. Their effect temporarily raises all stats by about fifty percent."
"Fifty percent? How long does it last?"
"Thirty minutes."
The second item: three-token dumplings. Unlike the fritters, they weren't permanent, but they offered instant power in a pinch. Probably meant for boss raids and crucial fights…
"I don't really have a reason to buy it, though."
"Is that so."
"Yep."
Ever since the fourth awakening, using divinity no longer rendered my stats meaningless the way it used to. All my stats and divinity were converted into the Divinity of Healing, which meant even the most useless stat would still contribute something. And yet.
It's not built for offense.
With healing in the very name of my divinity, it felt as though its use in skills and destruction came with built-in limits. My resurrection and restoration powers would be overwhelmingly stronger than before, but techniques like Spear's Roar or Spear of Annihilation would likely only grow weaker.
Beyond that, the menu held all manner of dishes. A five-token fish cake that reliably raised a chosen stat by fifteen. A seven-token blood sausage that granted a huge haul of experience scaling with how many floors of the ruins you'd cleared.
The dishes came out one after another, but nothing really grabbed me. The only thing that caught my eye was the fifteen-token tteokbokki.
It raised your level by one — regardless of what level you were. The higher your level, the more devastating its effect became. An item that grew more valuable the longer you held onto it.
"Nothing worth buying, I'm afraid."
"You received something else as your tenth-floor reward, so that's just how it is."
According to the raccoon, the tenth floor's reward was worth fifteen tokens — enough, combined with everything I'd gathered, to purchase even the finest dishes on the menu. In terms of raw value, they ranged from Mythic Grade up to items that brushed the very ceiling of Mythic.
But having already claimed my fourth awakening, all of that was now off the table for me.
"Well, nothing to be done, then. I'll take the tteokbokki, please."
"You're short on tokens."
"Can I pay in installments?"
"Can you even pay it back?"
He had a point. The ruins dungeon wasn't infinite, and it was a hidden dungeon — by the time I could return, it would either be gone or severely nerfed. Reluctantly, was I going to have to settle for the experience-granting blood sausage and four orders of fritters?
That was when it happened.
Clink-clink.
Clatter-clatter-clatter!
"?"
Five tokens rolled to a stop in front of me — octagonal coins stamped with that familiar scorpion emblem.
Thump. A door opened in the far distance, and someone came walking over with unhurried, deliberate steps. A man with the body of a colossal stone statue and a golden mask across his face.
"Pharaoh?"
It was Pharaoh. Not the Pharaoh of the past, not the Forgotten Emperor wearing his corpse — the genuine article. Seeing him as he truly was, it felt like it had been an awfully long time.
"It seems everything is finished. Have you reclaimed your body?"
"You could say I've almost got it back. Did you clear the ninth floor, then?"
"I did. It took some time — there was precious little information to be had. But to these eyes of mine, ruins are all much the same."
He nodded a slow, rumbling hmm, golden mask gleaming atop his stone body.
"Good timing. I was just short on tokens."
I handed over my eleven tokens along with his five. The raccoon accepted them and, without a word, ladled the tteokbokki into an empty container and wrapped it up.
"Is one of them a tip?"
"Yes. In exchange, please give me extra tteokbokki."
I could have bought a one-token order of fritters instead, but five stats weren't worth that much to me. Getting more tteokbokki than the standard portion meant I might even try recreating the rest myself.
A moment later, the wrapped tteokbokki landed in my hands. It looked genuinely appetizing. I'll save this for when I'm a much higher level.
"I'll eat this later… For now, let me just reclaim my body and head home. I've been at this too long; I'm tired."
"Rest, then."
"You took a tip, so let me throw in a service."
Just as I was about to leave, the raccoon leaned one elbow on his cutting board and looked at me.
"A calamity is coming soon. You would do well to steel yourself."
"If you mean the Kraken, I already know."
Why else did I think I was working this hard — moving, teaching, preparing? But the raccoon shook his head.
"If it were only one, I would have said nothing."
"…Only one?"
He didn't mean…
"It's not just one that's coming."
The Great Cataclysm would bring upheaval enough to shake the very world.