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[SP-F1] <<Earning a Living>> (COMPLETE)


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Aincrad. At first, the name of it sounded foreign. Soon after, it became the name of my cage. I always felt stuck in my own little world, isolated from everyone else. They never looked at me the right way. At first, sure but after they found out about... her... Anyway, long story short: people don't look at me here like they do at home. In fact, after the announcement of my jail cell, they all look like I did that day. I mean, some of them were disturbingly calm, but those will either be the ones to get behind or run from. Somewhere in that lot is where I fall.

A week had passed from the initial chaos. While players were panicking, breaking down, or dashing for the first chance to clear this place, I remember taking a seat. I remember sitting crossed legged, laughing a bit to myself. I remember telling myself, "I deserve this." Suicide was a thought on my mind ever since I lost Lyssa, but it was wrong. That much I knew. So, I agreed to go to a therapist. Coping mechanisms, she called it -- outlets for my anger and sadness. To help "cope" with what happened, she advised me to try video games. This video game.

It's ironic really, and that's what I found so funny while people were losing their minds. I felt I deserved to die -- to be punished for letting Lyssa die. Now, here I stand, trapped in a cage where I will either serve my time, die, or take on the biggest challenge for survival. I'm sure that somewhere, Leon is smirking deep inside. Why? Because he loved to play these little survival games. He loved to push us, even putting our life on the line. I hated him for what he did, but now I can't help but laugh.

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"It's all so ironic," I spoke aloud with a shake of my head. The soft roar and hiss of the plaza's fountain did its best to muffle my voice.

Activity settled in the Town of Beginnings over the past week. Already, hundreds threw their life away. In the raging storm of emotions, the aftermath finally settled and people began to build. Whether or not they liked it, this was their home now. Instead of going to school, grabbing food from the fridge, and kicking back, it was now a matter of eat, fight, sleep. Somewhere in the middle of this new lifestyle, people started leaning on one another. We all had something in common and the ice had broken. Guilds popped up left and right, shops started opening, and even the NPCs felt more like people than programs.

"Hey, you." The voice was gruff; I knew it well. "What's the matter, kid? Scared?"

"No." I kept it short because it didn't matter what I said. That much rang true at the sound of forced laughter from the three bullies in front of me.

"Pft, you're a shitty liar. Get up." His words were echoed by a shove into my shoulder. Were this my first rodeo, I'd be belly up in the fountain and washed with demeaning laughter.

Instead, I stood up. Calm. I kept my lips sealed and eyes locked on the big guy in the middle. Mr. Left and Mr. Right seemed content to play nuclear deterrent, but they did take a step back.

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"What're you gonna do, huh? You want to fight?" He challenged, pressing his chest into mine.

"I'm going to walk away," I stated, pushing off him with a hand and turning away to leave. Little did he know, I never kept my guard down. Again, I've seen an angry bull once or twice and I knew I just fluttered the red flag its way.

"Where the hell do you think you're--!" He reached for my shoulder and found himself with his back against the cobblestones. Heavy or not, all I needed was a bit of momentum and over my shoulder he went. I took a kneel with his head just between my knees. The shadows of his two lackeys caught the edges of my vision, but nothing more.

"You're bad at picking your fights. You see, I'm ready to die here. I'm not afraid of that, but I'll be damned to do so by you or anyone else's hand for kicks and grins. I'm a loose cannon and the only reason I'm trapped in here with you is because my therapist thought it'd be a good stress reliever instead of hospitalizing jerks like you in school."

The shadows of the two lackeys backed off and the dazed look of confusion on my prey's face began to understand the gravity of my words. Bullies always had weak spines and I knew just how to get them to break.

"So, how about you find some other guy to piss off before I let off some stress in a safe zone. I've heard the knock back can be pretty brutal."

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Lucky for him, the developers didn't see the necessity to include a bladder or bowel mechanic. Instead, he wordlessly nodded and I wordlessly stood up. I shot a narrowed glare at the two meat bags who kept company with a guy like this before I did exactly what I said I'd do -- walk away. I don't know what it was about today, but apparently I became the subject of people's interest. I get that we're all in the same boat here, but I'm perfectly content hanging out in the brig. By myself. In the corner cell.

"Hey, nice moves back there kid." Why does everyone like to call me kid? Am I really that young compared to everyone else? Really?

"Woah, slow down!" Again, the rules of personal space seemed not to apply today. I felt a firm grip on my shoulder which halted me in my tracks. To be clear, I didn't stop because he wanted me to. I stopped because that bubbling cauldron deep inside my chest was about to erupt. That usually meant someone's nose was about to break. So, I took a deep breath and a brief moment to turn the heat down on the front burner before turning to face the next of my acquaintances today.

"What?" I'm not fond of meaningful human interaction. Can you tell?

"Woah, easy." He was about my age, white hair, well built, and his eyes were honest. He held up both hands in surrender meaning that vein on my forehead was looking pretty beastly. "I'm not here to pick a fight."

"Then what do you want?"

"You handled yourself pretty good back there, but I couldn't help but notice you're not equipped with a weapon." The guy motioned to where the conflict happened. The three were long gone, but the memory of them was still fresh. "Those guys were armed with some decent beginner's gear. If they had any gall to challenge you to a one on one to the death... You'd be dead."

I sighed. "And?"

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"Arrogant... Look, you need to pick up a weapon if you're going to survive here," he continued.

"No thanks, I prefer solving my problems with my fists." On that last word, I made the effort to punctuate with the best expression of "eff off" as I could. I have knocked a few teeth loose for less, and my patience was far from saintly.

"Alright, hey. Listen. That's stupid move if you ask me, but--" I stepped in and he stepped back. "BUT! This place does have a mechanic for unarmed combat. Let me help you."

My eyes became slivers. Dad always told me that nothing in this world comes for free. What did this guy want? Because if he's here to pity me, I'll lay him out just like the other guy.

"I don't need your charity." I concluded and turned to carry out my life sentence. He stopped me and my hand balled into a fist.

"It's not charity. You're being an idiot. If you want to die, there's a ledge five minutes from here called Death's Dive where hundreds of people already checked out. I'll walk you there myself. If you'd like to do something with yourself while we're stuck here, let me help."

What I really wanted to do was plant a firm punch into his stomach and leave him to question his life choices. Instead, that nagging voice in the back of my head couldn't help but agree with what he was saying. I don't like charity and I certainly don't care for people, but he had a point. Up until now, I was plenty content playing idle. But for how long? Rumor had it, we were still nowhere near the first floor's boss. I don't know about you, but if it takes over a month to clear one floor, this might just be a full life sentence. That is, assuming we can even clear this game or if the psychopath locking us here was telling the truth.

I felt the stranger's hand leave me.

"Fine." He won the battle, but I wasn't about to start believing his every word. True, I didn't really read up on this game before I started playing, but neither did half of the people here. 

"Where to?" I added.

"To Death's Dive, or..." This guy is a jerk, but I have to admit I like his spunk.

"I'll accept your help."

"Excellent." The stranger smiled and clapped his hands together. He took be by the arm and pointed the way.

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We weaved through the streets and the crowds. I spent a few days mindlessly wandering about, getting a feel for this place. So, I knew where we were headed and I wasn't exactly excited about it. Regardless, we arrived at the north gate to the fields.

"Here we are," the stranger announced triumphantly.

"You're going to teach me how to fight? Don't bother, I already know--"

"Nope! Step one, we need a few scraps of leather." The stranger waltzed past the divide between safe and open. He kept his back to me, but drew his knife. I couldn't tell if this was a trap and the lack of concern for me was part of the bait. I had heard of these people who thought the threat was a lie and as a result, were killing other players to prove their point. I also heard killing other players was incredibly lucrative.

"Leather?" I asked. My feet hovered just on the border. Instead, I surveyed the outlying plains. A few players fought some boars, others took refuge under shady trees and overall, everything seemed fine.

"Yes, you'll want to pick up a profession. You'll need money and if you're serious about using your fists, you'll need special gear to hold your own. That means we're going to get you to become a tailor."

"Tailor?" Isn't that sewing machines, dresses, and frilly junk girls love to do? Then again, he did say leather... BDSM maybe? No, just... no.

"Yes, tailor. Leatherworking specifically. Armor, gloves, clothes, etc. You'll turn a good profit and you'll save money in one fell swoop. So," He turned to face me. "You coming or not?" 

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Leather working. I was familiar with the idea of it. Back when we were kids, mom and dad once took us to the Renaissance Festival. Frankly, that's what a lot of this reminded me of, but I distinctly remember the leather shops. I remember saying it was cool and asking my dad about it. That's when I first learned how leather was made. All you need was some animal skin, some oil, and the sun. I had no idea how to work with leather to make things, but I do like a challenge.

My foot crossed over into the field. The stranger turned and smiled.

"Clevis."

"What?" I asked.

"Clevis, that's my name. I never introduced myself."

"Right. Killia."

"Killia, huh? That's a cool name. Anyway, I want you to stick close. They look weak, but you can still die to a boar. What I'm going to do is kill them. What I want you to do is check where they die as quickly as possible. It's only for a few seconds but if you're lucky, they'll leave materials to gather that won't show on my loot table."

It all sounded like gibberish at the time, but the basic premise was clean enough. He stabs something, I pick up what's left.

"Okay, got it."

"If things get dicey, book for the opening. Here." Clevis waved his hand and fiddled with a few floating screens before an invitation appeared in front of me.

"A party invite." I muttered before hitting accept. In the corner of my eye, Clevis' name appeared followed by a green bar: his health. "Pretty straight forward."

"Alright, Killia, keep close. Here we go." 

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 ID# 86559: 4-7-11-10 <Fail>

Clevis moved on his feet better than anyone I knew topside. Granted, I spent a few days out here punching boars in the face. So, I was familiar with how the combat system worked, but he was on a whole other lever. Just by a guess, Clevis was the type of guy that bolted for the fields after the announcement. His level must clearly be above mine, yet he's wasting his time helping someone lower than him. Why?

"Here comes a big one!" he announced. The blade of his weapon thrummed with light and arched across the air. A dull thud and squeal marked the death of a digital animal, and a spray of fragmented data celebrated its passing.

"That's your cue!" he shouted, but I was too occupied with trying to understand Clevis' reasoning for the help. By the time his words came across me, I has lost those precious seconds he spoke about. I knelt down to pick up the shimmering item, but it vanished before my fingers could grab it.

"Damn," I muttered.

"You're going to have to act faster than that." Yeah, I know.

"Sorry," came out of my mouth instead. I rose up to look him in the eye, but he was already on the move to the next unfortunate swine to cross his blade.

"Gotta keep up!" Clevis rang out. His blade already thrummed with another Sword Art and his target was locked in his sights.

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 ID# 86561: 6-4-2-1 <Fail>

I know there is no such thing as "fatigue" here, but the mind is so accustomed to its senses that it perceives fatigue just like the real world. So while I know keeping up isn't hard and I'm not out of breath, I feel the struggle of keeping pace. Perhaps this has something to do with his stats over mine. Perhaps I'm out of shape (unlikely), but Clevis was slowly informing me how little I knew of this place.

His dagger sunk right between the eyes of the pig and it toppled over into the swaying grass. The bar above is drained and faded from view before it fell to pieces. Unlike before, I made my move. This time, I was further from Clevis and if I was going to make that time window, I needed to take it to high gear. My jog became a sprint and I could see the glimmering goal nested in the verdant turf.

I slid like a batter into first, hand outreached for the goal, but again, glitter in my fingers.

"Son of a--"

"You have to be faster," Clevis chastised.With teeth clenched, I dusted myself off as I stood.

"Maybe you need to slow the heck down," but by the time I finished my sentence, I again stared at Clevis' back. Is he ignoring me? Wearing me down to kill me? Or is this some kind of lesson?

Either way, I muttered a string of curse words that would make my grandmother blush and begrudgingly broke back into a jog.

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ID# 86562: 1-4-2-1 <Fail>

When I arrived at the next mob, it looked like Clevis ran into a bit of a snag. Unlike the others, the beast skirted his first attack. It took a nick by the look of its health bar and even then, the thing was almost dead. Clevis on the other hand, took a tusk to the shin and the little green bar tapped down a few millimeters. That confirmed my suspicions. Either he was several levels above me or his gear was boasting some stats.

He didn't waste much time, however, because that one blow for the boar turned a fatal error. Clevis gripped the tusk still inside his leg and plunged his blade into the boar's eye. Overkill in my opinion, but then again it looked sick. Before the hog could become dust in the wind, I picked up my feet and doubled over to it.

I made it just in time. The boar derezzed and I shot my hand into the grass. When the dust settled, I opened my palm to find... nothing.

"Are you kidding me?" I knew loot was random. At least from the boars I killed myself, but this was turning out to be an equal test of patience as it was of stamina.

"Bummer," Clevis added like salt to the wound. Meanwhile, he patted down the reddened haze of his shin.

"Yeah..." My hand slapped against my side. "How many do we need?"

"Three." When Clevis stood straight, the injury he sustained was gone and the tick of missing health already replenished. "You ready to keep going?"

He didn't wait for an answer and again I found myself in his shadow.

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 ID# 86563: 5-3-9-6 <Fail>

Did I ever tell you I was one unlucky son of a gun? Well, I am. Clevis and I hit two more boars. One swing of his blade and they fell like flies. Each time, I kept pace and searched where they fell. Each time, nothing rewarded my efforts. I began to seriously question the mechanics of this game. Moreso, if Clevis was really telling the truth about this hybrid looting situation. As the dust settled, I grabbed him by the wrist to prevent him from flying on to the next poor rack of bacon.

"Hey, why're you doing this?" I kept it straight forward, but he answered with a clueless:

"Hm?"

"Why are you trying to help me? What do you stand to gain?" The tension in his arm felt slack and I let it fall from my fingers.

"Well, seeing you handle those guys back there reminded me a bit of how I was back home. I admired your courage and how you handled that without starting a fight." Clevis tapped his knife against his chin coyly. "Plus, I'm sort of hoping to get in good with a young, budding tailor. I picked up performing since I used to have first chair in band. The viola still works with the ladies, but doesn't do a heck of a lot for me out here."

Viola? I find that hard to believe.

"I see," my head bobbed and I nibbled the inside of my cheek as I processed the words. "I guess that's fair."

Clevis smirked and nodded his head toward a freshly spawned mob.

"Shall we?"

"Yeah."

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 ID# 86564: 6-12-15-7 <+1 MAT>

He seemed honest enough. Trust was sort of a problem with me. I didn't like people and most of my friends topside drifted away when they found out about me in the news. So, taking words at street value didn't often come so easily. Clevis had honest eyes and so far, he did what he said he was going to do. I had no other reason to believe otherwise and if he had some ulterior motive, I still felt confident I could hit the gate before things got hairy.

As we closed in on the next target, my new acquaintance readied his weapon. Part of me began to consider the validity of taking up the sword, but I felt more catharsis from my fists. Punching something so hard it bursts to pieces has a relieving quality to it. I guess if this hadn't become my prison, Dr. Parson's suggestion would have helped.

"Get in there!" Clevis shouted, hilt deep in the belly of the beast. Literally.

I sprinted to him as the shards scattered and scooped up a glimmering piece. This time... finally... this time, a window popped up. I had acquired a piece of beast hide.

"Beast hide?" I repeated out loud.

"Yup, that's the stuff! Three of those and we'll get you to the Tailor NPC. He'll teach you a few things and you'll make your first item. Then you'll be able to take a profession."

Sweet. I mean, I knew nothing about sewing or leather, but it felt good as least to have my first step toward the goal. 

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 ID# 86565: 6-1-7-3 <Fail>

I pocketed the item with a sense of relief. At least now I knew it was possible, and Clevis wasn't leading me along. He looked out over the fields with squinted eyes. Since the rush of new players, the fields held far fewer numbers of spawning monsters. The very first day, it was common to encounter a pack of several at a time. For some unfortunate souls, wolves also used to spawn just outside the forest line. Again, in packs instead of the one or two occasional spawns today.

"How long is this going to take?" I asked. I understood the value of patience, but I didn't know this guy. That made me uneasy even if he had done nothing wrong to this point.

"Uhmm... Shouldn't be more than a few minutes. If you were a little quicker on the take, those first two would have set you straight."

I gave him a look of utter dissatisfaction.

"Thanks for the reminder."

He shrugged, blade dangling from his finger tips. 

"Looks like the spawns are slowing down," he stated. "I guess we wait for the next one."

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 ID# 86566: 5-4-5-1 <Fail>

Time slithered by as slow as the fake clouds on the ceiling above us. The ever present wind of the floating castle listed across the tall plains and filled the air with the sound of a green sea. Players who remained engaged with their own mobs sounded off in the distance as well as the faint idle chatter from nearby groups. The city itself hummed with life.

"So what was your life like before this?" The question came from him from no where. It broke the silence, but jostled my appreciation for this false reality.

"That's taboo," I replied. Since the majority of players stemmed from the Asia Pacific, being politically correct was a more important focus here. Certain subjects were not discussed as to be respectful to your fellow player. Talking of the other world often proved a trigger for emotional response.

"I was in my second year of college," Clevis disclosed despite my warning. "Virginia Tech. I was going to be a robotics engineer and we were just getting into the coding of it all. One of my buddies mentioned the Nerve Gear and we decided to pick up a pair and give it a shot."

His voiced trailed off which coaxed my brow to raise. I found his use of past tense peculiar... and haunting. I didn't probe despite my curiosity. Instead, I remained quiet, an open listener. It was the least I could do for the guy as we waited for more boars to spawn.

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 ID# 86567: 3-3-10-7 <Fail>

He turned to me with his lips shut and the silence of air between us. His honest eyes seemed gentle and more fragile. I would've mistaken it for sadness were it not for his tone and posture. Now that I thought about it, something about him seemed a little forced. Not artificial like an NPC, but... practiced. Like a playwright.

"It's kind of funny to think of it in retrospect. I don't think I can remember it any other way." His face fell slack and somber. I didn't know how to act, but I knew the news was coming. "You remember Death's Dive, right? I mean, it's public knowledge but I'm more intimately familiar with it that most people."

"Why are you telling me this?" I had to ask. Two men in an open field, one clearly stronger than the other. It seemed like a odd place to open up.

Clevis chuckled at the question. "We all come from somewhere, but we share this one thing in common. I guess you could say I'm telling you this to pass the time. Maybe prove to myself and you, that we're just human after-all. Despite the numbers and flashy lights, its still flesh and bone somewhere in there."

I knew where he was coming from; I think we all do. For me, this place was to get away from reality - a fresh start. To him, I'm not sure what this was. An adventure? An experiment?

"I guess we just all handle loss differently." He trailed off, looking and waiting for the light of a spawn somewhere to appear.

That's when the gravity hit me. Loss. Lyssa never left my mind, but her weight was a colossal burden I came here to avoid. 

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ID# 86569: 6-8-3-9 <Fail>

"I was spooked by the announcement," Clevis continued. "We all were, but Garreth took it harder. You see, he was a pretty dramatic guy. If he got a B on a test, he lost his mind. His parents were both well established in the robotics community. He had a point to prove and compared to you or I, he wouldn't know what to do with a weapon even with the system assist."

Clevis let out a sigh. For a minute now, no monsters spawned. And as he continued to share his story, I continued to feel Lyssa's weight on my shoulders. My chest felt tight. I wanted him to stop because I didn't want to remember, but I wanted him to continue. Because, despite those who pitied me or tried to comfort me, his story felt real. It felt raw.

"I pushed the news to the back of my mind. I guess I was in denial. Garreth just lost it. You'd think he got a failing grade on the final kind of lost it. He kept babbling on about his grades, his studies, what his family would think. Despite what I said, he thought his parents would disown him for making this decision. In fact, we did this to improve ourselves. That's how I saw it. We just got dealt a bad hand."

"He jumped." Clevis didn't need to tell me. The deduction was clear and I'd rather he not completely relive the details. I knew what that was like. In therapy, when Dr. Parson asked me to tell her about the event, I fell apart. I never fall apart. I'm the rock, the pillar of support... I'm...

"Yeah... Death's Dive. One of the first actually. He wanted to wake up. Said it was a bad dream. Part of me hopes he did." Clevis laughed again, but it felt hollow. Again, forced. "I'm too much of a chicken to see for myself."

He turned to me and smiled, but I saw pain. So did he.

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 ID# 86570: 1-8-5-9 <Fail>

"You alright, my dude?" Clevis asked. His look of concern was all too familiar. I hated it. 

"Yeah, yeah..." I looked away from him and took a deep breath to clear my head. The happy memories of my sister cusped on the fringe of my mind like a glass about to overfill. Not here, not now. This is a new place. This isn't there.

"Hey, seriously. Sorry, I shouldn't have said anythi--"

"Your not a coward," I interrupted. I wasn't entirely sure where that came from, but I said it with conviction. "You're not."

Clevis' downtrodden gaze showed me he didn't believe me. Again, he forced a dry laugh.

"I don't know you, but you're not a coward for not risking your life on a guess." That much I knew. If we really didn't wake up after dying here, that was it. We throw our lives away. So yeah, part of the fear keeps us from trying, but how different is that from dying in the real world?

"Yeah, it would just be nice to hear his voice again. Or just know. I guess that's why I like to help where I can. Keeps my mind off it all." He looked out to the field where the faint light of a re-spawn formed a pillar.

"Shall we?" he asked. I heard his chipper tone return, but that eerie sound of rehearsal now lingered on the back of my mind. 

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 ID# 86571: 10-9-11-5 <Fail>

Sure enough, the boar spawned. However, something differed from the times prior. Clevis charged his sword art and as the thrum of his blade range out, an eruption of pillars sparked up around us. The system took over Clevis' movements, but he turned to me with a look before he connected to the first boar. His face conveyed that very well known "oh crap" moment. Instinctively, my feet spread and rooted in the soil. No weapons to call my own, I brought my balled fists to my chest. 

We were circled. 

"Careful!" Clevis warned. He pulled the dagger from the boar's ribs without concern for the loot and already readied another blow.

The boars around us materialized. Four total. Given the amount of finesse and accuracy Clevis displayed, I doubted this kind of group would be an issue for him. Me, on the other hand... 

I spewed out a rather sharp adjective for one's own fecal matter just before avoiding a tusk to the shin. The thud of Clevis' sword art hitting ham sounded at my back. For a game, these monsters were exceptionally coordinated. 

"Five-O'clock" Clevis spat. Sure enough, one of the two sideliners took advantage of my blind spot and made a quick charge. The muscly beast charged low, looking to rake upward. So, I let my weight fall backward and just as it were about to take a piece out of my flank, I rolled off the top of its back. Instead, it now barreled recklessly at Clevis.

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 ID# 86572: 6-7-12-2 <Fail>

I landed poorly at a knee, scraping my elbow against the rocky soil. Despite what should have stung, I felt a light tingle and my health points remained at full. As I reached out for the boar's tail to hopefully slow its approach, I felt the wiry hairs slip just past my fingertips. The beasts tusks clanged loudly against the flat of Clevis' dagger and pushed him back a fair amount. I didn't have much time to rush to help as the first to attack me made another pass. 

I didn't have time to dodge or roll, but I tried my best to push off from my knee. My hand shot out and gripped the pig by its ivory. It's raw strength slammed down my arm like a jackhammer and ruined my footing. It kept its momentum and took me along for the ride. I swug and slammed against its side, my feet dragging through the dirt and grass. I tried to find my footing, anything.

"Killia!" Celvis' voice sounded a fair distance, strained with struggle from his own conflict. I was on my own.

Despite what should have hurt like heck, I managed to keep a good grip on the boar until my feet finally caught a large stone. The pieces fell together in my mind and my body just acted on its own. I brunted all my weight against the lip of that boulder and caught enough friction to jerk that beast to the ground. Its hooves flailed in the air and it desperately writhed to right itself. I denied it by putting myself with my back atop its side and seated between its legs. Tusk still in hand, I crooked a front leg and shank in my arms and fought to keep it immobile.

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ID# 86573: 10-2-18-4 <+1 MAT>

There's a reason people never hunted livestock with their bare hands. Compared to them, we lack the primal strength to overpower them Here, where boars were the size of adolescent cattle, it only made sense for me to start loosing this battle of might. I grit my teeth, grunting, trying to keep it together just long enough for Clevis to arrive. Until, finally, I felt the meat in my back give way. I flopped into a puddle of fragmented data and felt a sharp stab in the meat of my shoulder. 

"One more, get up." Clevis hovered over me just for a second before looking out toward the last of the ambush. 

I grunted, already feeling sore despite the lack of such a feeling in the game. As I rose, I felt the pain in my shoulder rise with me. Thinking the worse, I snatched it from my back only to find the humor in acquiring the second piece of beast hide we needed. 

"Here he comes."

That was my cue to get off my arse. I quickly got to my feet and not a moment too soon.

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