Chapter 8: Ch. 7 – Death by Tummy Ache

It had been five days since Momo died, and life had never been better.

She had friends (a cat that smelled like rotting flesh and a mentor that may or may not kill her at a moment’s notice), a steady job (Sales Lead at Morgana’s Dawn), and most importantly, a rent-free place to sleep (a pile of hay inside the stables).

Momo stretched out her arms and yawned happily. The stench of manure couldn’t even dampen her mood. Valerica had been charitable enough, given her recent promotion, to let her sleep outside among the animals. Momo was over the moon; it was far preferable to a dark cavern full of rat bones.

Dusk had promoted herself to resident [Alarm Clock Cat], making sure to meow everyone awake like a rooster the moment the sun slipped over the horizon. Momo admired her dedication, and gave her a good rub on the vertebrae as she prepared for a new day.

Brushing her teeth with a toothbrush constructed of grass and pine needles, Momo looked at herself in the mirror. Okay, not a mirror, but a reflective surface that wasn’t completely covered in manure or poison. It was a small, questionably drinkable pool of fountain water. Following the fountain’s piping, Momo deduced that it was supplied by runoff water from the moat which bordered the sanctuary.

The moat was full of snapping fish and skeletal alligators, but no blood or curses or human remains, so Momo dubbed it fine enough to reflectively gaze into.

Of course, gazing was a mistake for other reasons—as soon as she caught sight of the human that was supposed to be her, Momo yelped. The reflection staring back at her was one of a malnourished ghost. Her hair, which on Earth was nearly black, had turned bright, bed sheet white. She had been getting gray stress hairs for years in college, but the trauma of dying and being yanked cross-realms seemed to have painted her head the color of snow.

Not to mention that she looked nearly undead herself. Her cheekbones were jutting out of her flat cheeks. Her arms looked like scythes beside her. She hadn’t eaten a full meal in days. There were no snack breaks at the sanctuary. The necromages were a reclusive, overly sedentary bunch, who seemed to subsist off of eating the bugs that climbed on their spell tomes as they studied.

Not that she was really complaining; it was a group very befitting a Momo. She too was a creature of convenience. She regularly would survive off of the same takeout pizza that sat by her end-table every night, complemented by the occasional Gren & Berry’s ice cream bucket.

But even she had her limits.

Remembering the incantation that the bathing red goblin had taught her, Momo spoke stats check aloud. Like magic, a piece of parchment zipped through the air and into her open palms. She noticed that the parchment looked slightly different from before—skeletal fish lined the sides, decorating the page. Odd.

She had little time to dwell on it before one look at her health points nearly floored her.

MOMO
Health Points	15/50
Mana	60/60
Intelligence	10 You are reading story Momo The Ripper (A Shy Necromancer LitRPG) at novel35.com
Strength	2
Charisma	4
Dexterity	6
Class Level (Necromage Initiate)	5
Second Class Level (Unclaimed)
Minor Class Level (Unclaimed)
CLASS SKILLS
Friend of the Dead I
Bone Infusion I
Raise Undead I
PERSONAL SKILLS
Burgeoning Confidence
Pitied

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