I looked at the mirror and my facial hair. I was taking the day off and would be leaving tomorrow. Naran was doing his thing. Clarissa was managing the good doctor and the city. I was sitting on top of my home, looking out at the plaza as the light source slowly rose in the sky.
Also, the mirror in my left hand. I looked at the pair of tweezers in my right hand. My hair was too strong to cut normally. That was the real reason I wanted better equipment. So, I didn’t have this wild animal clinging to my face.
Superman was bullshit, for having laser vision to shave himself. I brought up the pair of tweezers and pulled out a hair on my cheek. That hurt, it hurt a lot. At least I had the strength to pull out my own hairs. I dragged the tweezer on the stone roof to my side, leaving the hair there.
Next hair. Damn, that hurt. I was used to pain, but this was a sharp pain. It was tempting to try and find a slime to use it to melt off my hair. I paused. What about summoning a slime? I looked at the pair of tweezers in my hand. I thought back to the pain of my melting feet.
My boots and socks were off and to the side. I rose up a foot and looked for feet hair. Some feet hair was coming through. I thought of Aahan and his hair was kind of messed up, but it was regrowing. No acid wax unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how I looked at it.
I pulled out another hair. This was going to take a while, but I hated having facial hair. I kept pulling each hair one at a time. I took the occasional break to look out over the plaza and people moving about. A third floor was 100k points.
A frivolous expense compared to buying more buildings. Still, I had said that about salt and seasoning. Now salt was showing up for meals while I was out grinding. I wouldn’t have purchased it myself, but I had no complaints.
I was glad I could leave all the reprovisioning up to Naran. It was a headache and I felt I had to micromanage each and every point. I pulled out another hair and winced. Damn, hair pulling was annoying and painful.
There should be a pain reduction stat I thought as I yanked out another hair. At least I could defeat this foe, unlike the Ritualist. I smiled wryly and pulled another hair out of my face.
I needed this day off. No grinding, no threats, just sitting and pulling hairs to free myself from the imprisonment of facial hair. I looked at over at what used to be Lady Shi’s salon. Now one of her people was running the place. Clarissa had informed me when I had asked. You will be missed Lady Shi.
My mind drifted to who was the person who had been around the longest besides me? I had no idea now. Carlos was dead, Tyrese was dead, and the RMPF had gone through quite a bit of turmoil. Probably Laura, since she had been part of the Guild way back in the day.
The Battle of Blood, so long ago, when I had put Carlos in power. Then the second Battle of Blood, where I had melted him from his position. The Charter, which was useless. A person who was going to die when I found them. Tome moved forward.
It felt weird, I had been here for almost a year. The mysteries and the scope of this place kept growing. I yanked out another hair and put it in the growing pile. This was the worst thing ever. Both the mysteries and hair pulling. Both of them felt similar, annoying, and there was no easy or quick solution.
Energy, what a simple word downloaded into people’s heads with the skill crystal, but so deceptive. It was like calling water liquid. Then going, ‘oh it is liquiding today’. ‘I want liquid with my dinner.’ It was the same with the term energy.
There were all types of energy, kinetic, chemical, potential, electrical, and so on. The Ritualist had broken open the veil, at least partially, that was hiding the man behind the curtain. Energy was something unique and different. It was hard to think of other terms than the one the Almighty System gave.
The can of worms that was the mental downloading was something that was even more concerning. Now the fact that potions made with crystal powder basically impacted a person’s thinking, raised the level of concern much higher.
I tried to think back to all my physics classes in high school and college so long ago. Electrical energy was the flow of electrons through the sea of electrons inside a metal. Electrons were part of an atom. So, what was taking place when I thought Acid Shot?
The first conclusion was that energy was psychoactive. Being responsive to one’s thoughts. It would be interesting to see if a skill functioned the same way if someone got all ten upgrades before even using the skill at all. Was there a learning curve for the Almighty System to pick up on people using a skill? Was that why upgrades were spaced out the way they were?
Energy reacted to thoughts, which was further reinforced with how the crystal powder process and summoning worked. Energy could be sensed at varying densities, with the higher-level zones having more energy according to the good doctor and his notes.
I had been thinking about Death and how it had moved to intercept us at the city but hadn’t intercepted our retreat after that. It had been bothering me. But this made sense if energy density played a role for both monsters and skills.
A high-level monster or skill wouldn’t be able to function properly in a low energy area. Maybe. After everything the Ritualist had done, I was wary of absolutes. I yanked out another hair. No wonder why no one did this back on Earth. This was painful and annoying. Also, it took forever.
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My thoughts drifted to the tweezers. Simple tools could be purchased from the system store. Just like clothing, a person needed an image in mind. Anything more complex than a single hinge, couldn’t be purchased. There was blacksmith hidden away somewhere trying to work the metals, but it wasn’t simple.
No, the Almighty System didn’t like complex things. Chemicals, hot weapons, and the raw materials to make those things. I wasn’t even surprised when I learned the copper that the store called copper, wasn’t really copper.
It was some kind of magical material, pretending to be copper. Possibly an alloy, but we had no advanced equipment or texts to reference to make that determination easily. It was amazing how many people had college educations but knew nothing useful for our situation. I wasn’t alone in that regard. It was all gaming knowledge.
Well, there was the good doctor. He was the exception to the rule. Also, the Ritualist. The man had to be a genius to discover everything he had, or insane. To steal a quote, ‘innovation was 99% funding, and 1% insanity.’
I yanked out another hair. Hopefully the new buildings would provide an insight and power boost I needed. Equipment had the chance of becoming a force multiplier. First on the list was a sword of dusting. All those human monster hybrids the Ritualist had created left a terrible mess. With a dusting sword, no mess.
The latest cleaning product, the Dusting Sword, ages 8 and up. Just be careful not to dust your foot or arm. My smile was wiped off my face as I wiped out another hair. Gods, the upper lip area was really sensitive. My eyes had started to water as I braced my face for another hair pull.
I could only think of the Ritualist and how if he increased his stats, personal hygiene would become increasingly more difficult. That would be Purgatory’s future export. Self-care products for high stat individuals.
You know what, screw export. The Ritualist wasn’t going to get anything. Any type of equipment was going to be very carefully controlled. Equipment was going to be like guns. You couldn’t implement gun control, once guns were in the wild. That was like trying to put milk back into a cow, pointless and unpleasant for everyone.
What I could do was control their use and spread very carefully. Innovation would be restricted, but I didn’t need anything leaking to other cities or people. It was one thing I would have to discuss with Clarissa about. The power level of every bit of equipment would need to be understood and it all needed to be strictly controlled at the start until I could review things personally.
No more Ben’s or Ritualists were going to occur in Purgatory. If they did, well, I was just going to melt everyone and start over. It was idiotic to keep creating my enemies with my own power base.
I yanked another hair. Dammit, that really hurt, but I was making progress. I didn’t like fighting people or melting people. It felt silly to think that after killing so many on the flimsiest of reasons. But I just wanted to go home. To sit in my chair and surf the internet. Watch some cat videos.
I hated pets since I was allergic. Pets should pick up my poop, but I would make an exception for the cat videos. How would all of this react with allergies? Probably just fix them, the way regeneration fixed everything else.
That was one reason why I allowed for regenerations when people arrived and didn’t stop that. I wanted to keep that little bit of hope alive. When I wouldn’t need to melt stupid people or subject them to human experimentation.
But the only thing that really was boundless was human stupidity. I yanked out another hair and winced. Also, facial hair. That stuff was endless also. I looked up at the occasional puffy cloud and felt the light breeze.
It was a nice day, like every other day. If this was an anime or tv show, there would have been rain yesterday during the memorial. No funerals, since bodies just disappeared. I had gotten used to it, but now I was thinking over that disappearing and repairing act the Systemic Lands pulled under the power of the Almighty System.
“For an all-powerful deity, you are an asshole,” I muttered. Nothing smote me. Also, fairly uncaring by the looks of things. At least there weren’t points from killing people, since that would have truly made this place a blood bath. Well, it was a bloodbath, but it would have been worse. Maybe.
I yanked out another facial hair. In the end I could only move forward and survive. Learn from my mistakes. So many mistakes and lost opportunities. Death really cut off possibilities for the future. Well, there was a list of two people on my kill list.
I was going full Arya Stark. At least my list was short enough that it wasn’t difficult to remember the names, with just two people on it. The Ritualist, a man twisted beyond belief who had found an exploit. Ruth, who hadn’t earned a title in my opinion. The kindest thing I could compare her to was a blood sucking mosquito, annoying and just asking to be smacked down.
There were only so many places to run, and I could grind faster than anyone else. Eventually, the petty tricks and games wouldn’t matter.
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