His shoulder was gone.
The dark was persistent in not letting Kai see more than a man should have. But his Perception was still working, making him realize this particular Stat was quite susceptible to a Contestant’s physical and mental condition.
Desmond never lifted his face. What tissue or strands of muscles were keeping his left hand attached to his body; a profound mystery. Cracks were running down from the dented hole in Desmond’s left, going deep towards his stomach. Kai had no intention of finding out their destination.
“… Water…” the dying man muttered. Kai felt the middle-aged man knew he was standing by his side, taking in the entire scene with silent eyes. Blood, drool, and something more dripped off his mouth, leaving a long slimy trail. “Wa…”
Kai looked at Desmond’s right hand, reaching out towards the dark corner. Not feeling any danger, Kai prodded towards it, and when he crouched down to look, he found a familiar water pouch.
Sellsword’s Water Pouch!
Kai could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Why would Sonia give Desmond her Item? Why would anyone part from such a precious life-saving thing? Two different questions, but they had the same answer.
Kai held the Item in his hand and gave it a good shake.
The amount of water was the same after the two mouthfuls he had drunk out of it. It seemed Desmond hadn’t got a single chance to use it. Kai put the longsword back into his Inventory and approached Desmond, whose head was hanging so low that at any moment he could fall asleep. An eternal one.
Kai put the water pouch’s mouth against Desmond’s and let gravity do its work. The entire content got emptied into Desmond’s stomach in no time. Desmond’s face flushed. A sudden pinkish from the pale white of death. The cold still lingered around him, waiting to see who would win; the man or…
There was only a little over 300 ml of that mysterious water in the water pouch, according to Kai’s guess. The 15 HP points it must have given Desmond weren’t nearly enough to raise his chances of survival. But it stopped the blood loss, which had been ceaselessly pouring out of his wound.
Now, I can only wait, Kai said to himself, taking a deep breath, and slumping down against the wall by Desmond’s side. For a moment, he had thought of taking Desmond back to the magical hut, but then thought better of it. There might be more rats sniffing for us in the open.
No one came to the dark alley again, though, even after three hours. Kai thanked Desmond’s luck for it, because he knew it wasn’t his luck on work there.
Kai’s HP had been completely restored when a deep snarling breath escaped Desmond’s mouth. A loud cough, spitting, low grunting, and Desmond’s eyes were open again. The man looked as if he had just been rejected by Hell’s gatekeeper, kicked out, not finding him to their pleasure.
“Am I… alive?” Desmond asked the ghost sitting by his side.
“Huh!” Kai sniggered. “I would very much like to think so. Otherwise, the System is a bitch to give us such a lifelike death.”
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Desmond didn’t wake up for an hour and a half after that. Kai could feel strength returning to him, his wound closing, flesh returning. It wasn’t anything less magical than seeing people cast spells that had done such damage. Kai’s stomach grumbled. Hunger was taking over his mind now.
Kai had learned to go without food for days, but this was something else. Different world, different rules, Desmond had told him before departing. The more blood you lose, the more hungry you will become. Unlike Mana and Breath, Stamina needs a substance to work on. And it becomes scarier with larger injuries.
How hungry Desmond had been feeling now, Kai could only guess. They had only eaten bread with stew, not enough to stay in their stomach after the fight they had gone through. Kai was faring better. He felt it in his bones and muscles. He couldn’t help but think of the serpent he had devoured.
This Glitch is even more useful than I am giving it credit for, Kai reflected.
“Tell me about Abilities and Skills,” Kai asked, knowing well that Desmond was awake. “What is this Proficiency?”
“Why hasn’t Arlen sent someone by now?” Desmond complained, making Kai wonder if he was acting like a fool or was truly a one. “Abilities and Skills, right?”
Desmond was getting stronger, enough to move his mouth and tongue at least. Kai wondered how the idiot would react if he were to let him know about the fate of his attacker.
“Abilities are like a craft if you know what I mean,” Desmond said, trying to move his left hand’s fingers. “You practice them, learn them, and try to become proficient in them, hence the word Proficiency. To upgrade them, you need insights and constant improvement. They are difficult to get, very difficult, and even monstrous to upgrade. They have three levels; Elementary, Advance, and Master.”
I had a hint, Kai thought. He could tell how important the Abilities were, given they didn’t need any MP or SP. More like they represent a Contestant’s individuality.
“Skills are much simpler, dangerous, and costly,” Desmond grumbled. Kai could feel a trace of bitterness in Desmond’s voice, the one which only originates from experience. “For now, you only need to know that they are of two types; Triggered and Driven, though the System doesn’t differentiate between them. Driven Skills need a continuous supply of MP, SP, or HP. As long as you can supply them, the Skill will remain in effect, unless it has more constraints.”
“And Triggered?” Kai asked.
“I will tell you after returning to the HQ.”
“Oh,” Kai let out an evil grin upon hearing that. Desmond hasn’t forgotten that after telling me all about Skills, my Side Mission will be over. It seems he isn’t completely a fool then.
Kai took a deep breath and then scooched over to Desmond’s ear.
“Desmond,” Kai whispered, “I have something to tell you.”
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