Chapter 117: Seven Ways to Die
Glitch was full, warm, and briefly at peace with the world, which meant Jin finally had room to think.
He sat against the bed with his phone in his hands while the real Glitch sprawled beside him, one eye half-open. The lizard radiated the contentment of a beast who had been fed a proper meal for the first time in a week and considered the matter of his handler’s competence provisionally settled.
His shoulder had almost completely recovered. The week-old bruise had faded to a quiet yellow-green, with only the slightest flinch remaining when he shifted the wrong way.
More importantly, the feed stacked in the corner changed what the seven signals meant. They were no longer locked boxes whose rewards Jin was afraid he couldn’t afford to Sync. With several days of inspected feed secured, he could finally choose with his head instead of his stomach.
Jin opened the list properly for the first time.
[Compatible Dungeon Signals Detected: 7]
[Downloaded: 0]
[Active Avatar Deployment: None]
Something inside him that had been sleeping since his last life woke all the way up.
Because this—this—was the part he was good at.
Not the lazy slacker everyone in the Outer Ring thought he was. The other one: the person who read every drop table, mapped every boss pattern, and ground through content until it begged for mercy.
The seven signals weren’t a threat anymore. They were a selection screen, and Jin had never, in either of his lives, chosen content based on whichever name sounded the coolest.
He started comparing.
Glitch felt the change in his handler’s attention through the bond and cracked his eye fully open. Jin had gone quiet and sharp, staring at the glowing rectangle with the particular focus that usually meant the avatar was going somewhere.
Interest stirred through the connection, followed quickly by eagerness. Glitch levered himself upright and stared at the incomprehensible screen, completely invested in whatever it was about to do to him.
---
The Engine gave Jin previews, not answers.
A name, an environment, a rough difficulty estimate, the tendencies of the creatures inside, probable resource categories, and the stability of the signal. Enough to plan, but not enough to cheat.
It didn’t show him the map, the boss, or any guaranteed loot. Those answers would still have to be paid for in blood, the way they always had.
Jin examined the signals one at a time.
Glasswind Expanse.
An open stone plain scoured by cutting wind and occupied by fast-moving predators. Probable rewards included wind-resistant materials, speed-related fragments, and plenty of movement training.
Jin dismissed it quickly. There was too much open ground and too little cover against fast or ranged enemies, while Glitch currently possessed the mobility of a determined boulder.
He would die out there constantly. Worse, most of those deaths would teach him almost nothing beyond the fact that attacks he didn’t yet have the tools to avoid were, in fact, difficult to avoid.
Jin didn’t mind Glitch dying.
He minded deaths that taught them nothing.
Emberroot Burrows.
Heated tunnels filled with fire-aligned insects and burrowing creatures. Possible rewards included heat-resistant materials, fire glands, and underground combat experience.
Glitch had no heat resistance, and the cramped tunnels would turn every encounter into unavoidable damage. The place might become useful later, once Glitch had some answer to being cooked alive in a hole, but it was a poor starting point.
Rotmist Basin.
A wet, acidic basin filled with poisonous fog, corrosive pools, and scavenging beasts. Probable rewards included poison materials, corrosive organs, and resistance-related fragments.
Jin paused on that one.
It was the obvious safe choice. Glitch had Corrosion Resistance and Lesser Regeneration hidden in his skill set, which meant he could endure the acid far better than most beasts and recover from much of the damage that slipped through.
That was exactly why Jin closed it.
It was Rustwater all over again. He had already ground a poison-filled drain to the bone, and the Basin would give Glitch more of a strength he already possessed, make the good numbers larger, and repair nothing.
Easy and inefficient.
Jin wasn’t grinding merely to feel powerful.
He moved on.
Moonspore Vault.
A dark fungal cavern filled with spores, parasitic growths, and creatures capable of interfering with perception. Probable rewards included medicinal fungi, mental-resistance materials, and unusual support resources.
The potential value was tempting, but there were too many unknown status effects and Glitch had no reliable answer to perception interference. Data Appraisal wouldn’t save them inside the Engine, either. Jin’s public talent only knew what the system chose to show him there, and a dungeon built around scrambling the senses was unlikely to be generous with information.
Later. After Glitch acquired a sensory tool, or Jin obtained better intelligence.
Drowned Bell Ruins.
Submerged ruins occupied by amphibious and water-aligned beasts. Probable rewards included aquatic materials, breath-control fragments, and water-resistant resources.
Glitch was a terrestrial Grey Rock Lizard. Underwater, he would lose nearly every advantage he possessed and drown repeatedly while learning the same lesson each time.
Jin wanted to fix Glitch’s weaknesses one at a time. He wasn’t going to begin by stripping away all his strengths at once.
Stormcliff Roost.
A vertical cliff environment dominated by flying predators. Probable rewards included rare feathers, lightning materials, and aerial-mobility fragments.
Jin rejected it before he finished reading. Glitch couldn’t fly, and without a proper ranged option he would be forced to rely on Acid Breath merely to touch anything above him. Most attempts would probably end with him falling off the same cliff again and again.
Funny once.
Not a progression plan.
Jin made a quiet note—useful after acquiring a flying partner—then refused to think any further about a second beast he didn’t have and couldn’t afford to feed.
That left the seventh and final signal.
Shattered Iron Quarry.
A collapsed underground quarry saturated with earth and metallic mana. Probable rewards included Iron-grade minerals, scale-strengthening resources, earth-aligned materials, and movement or sensory skill fragments.
Its inhabitants were adapted to fighting through stone and darkness.
The estimated difficulty appeared manageable for a 3-Star beast.
Beneath that rating, however, the Engine displayed three lines most players might have skimmed over.
Jin read them three times.
[Environmental Hazard Density: Elevated]
[Dominant Detection Method: Vibration]
[Corrosion Effectiveness: Reduced]
He sat back.
There it was.
---
Shattered Iron Quarry wasn’t the easiest choice. Jin knew that even before he selected it.
Rotmist Basin would be easier. With Glitch’s hidden resistances, it would practically be a spa day compared to the other options, but when Jin compared the quarry against everything Glitch actually needed, it fit better than any of them.
Glitch was a stone creature. He was comfortable on rock and at home in darkness, which gave them a real terrain advantage to develop instead of forcing him to fight the environment itself.
The mineral resources might help support his physical growth, too, and that mattered more than ever now that Jin had to budget every gram of real feed. Earth-aligned enemies could also provide materials related to Harden, improving the one skill Glitch was actually allowed to display in public.
The three warnings mattered even more.
Dominant Detection Method: Vibration.
Glitch had no proper sensory skill.
None.
He fought by seeing and reacting. A dungeon filled with creatures that hunted by reading the ground would expose that weakness immediately, and the Engine gave them a place where Glitch could die against that problem until he learned how to deal with it.
That was the kind of weakness Jin wanted found here, rather than when the body doing the fighting couldn’t respawn.
If they were lucky, the quarry might eventually provide fragments for something useful. Tremor Sense. Stone Step. Some practical movement or sensory ability that could keep Glitch alive in the real world.
Then there was the final warning.
Corrosion Effectiveness: Reduced.
Good.
Acid Breath wouldn’t solve every encounter. Mineral-shelled creatures would be able to endure it, forcing Glitch to win through something other than exhaling at the problem.
He had been relying on that hidden lungful as an emergency weapon ever since Rustwater. A dungeon where it barely worked would force him to build answers that didn’t begin and end with acid.
The rest fit the same way: enclosed terrain that rewarded mapping, enemies that demanded repeated attempts, and failed runs that would still produce valuable information.
Grinding what Glitch already did well only makes the numbers bigger. Grinding what he does badly might keep him alive when the body fighting can’t respawn.
Jin selected the quarry.
---
Glitch had opinions.
Those opinions were based entirely on which signal appeared to contain the greatest number of things to fight and eat.
He had been favoring one of the flashier previews. Jin could feel the pull of it through the bond—appetite, anticipation, the promise of violence all directed toward the brighter option.
When Jin selected the quarry instead, Glitch lifted his head.
Then the eagerness sharpened.
Apparently, in whatever simple chain of images and feelings passed for Glitch’s interpretation of the decision, Jin had finally—finally—recognized that his beast required worthy opponents.
"That is not why I picked it," Jin said.
Glitch’s stare remained absolute.
"It’s the one that’s going to be hardest for you specifically. There are things down there that can find you through the floor, and their armor resists Acid Breath. You’re going to have a terrible time."
Glitch received this as a promise of glory and became more eager, not less. His attention fixed on the phone as though Jin had just confirmed everything important.
Jin decided not to correct him again. It wouldn’t take.
"And it’s the avatar going in," he added. "Not you. You stay here on the floor, being a normal lizard with a nearly healed shoulder. The copy does the dying."
A pulse of complete understanding came back through the bond, followed immediately by offended anticipation at the idea of that copy losing. Any defeat suffered by the avatar would apparently count as a personal insult requiring immediate revenge.
That was simply how the beast worked.
The avatar carried Glitch’s instincts, experiences, memories, and every scrap of his pride. Whatever happened to it returned as a vivid experience without transferring a single wound to his real body.
"Yeah," Jin said. "I know. Try to remember it doesn’t leave a mark."