Chapter 36

“Finally some loot that’s not garbage,” Michael said chipperly. Travis made a face of surprise and then frowned, clearly so lost in thought he hadn’t even heard what Michael had said.

“That one over there,” Michael said as he pointed at a shining square thing, “is your loot. Congratulations.”

It smelled like alien magic, not only in its makeup and strange shape, but also because—for the first time—Michael was looking at loot not destined for him. The coins Travis earned felt the same, but he still took them as per their agreement. He would figure out how many to give to the man, and at what price, later with Dave. Travis might be invited to sit as they discussed, as a courtesy and to curry favor, perhaps.

The magic within the few coppers didn’t seem to agree with him as he took them for himself, but a quick pass with his aura and they were tamed.

He got the feeling that he could do the same with the strange card Travis had pulled out of a nook in the rock. Take it for himself, steal the spoils of war from another delver. But he would never do that.

“It’s different than yours,” the CEO said, studying the thing.

“Looks like a magic card.”

Michael hummed. He had read about magic cards in some novels, of course, much like he had read of skill stones and other things. He wondered, briefly, why the dungeon had chosen to manifest the reward in this form, and if it was different for everyone.

“What do I do with it?” Travis asked.

“Didn’t you get a message window or something?”

The CEO scratched his head, looking confused. “No, I just feel some sort of weird tingling when I look at it.”

“It’s definitely magic. I can feel it from here. Can I take a better look at it?”

“Sure,” Travis said, “but don’t break it. It’s the very first piece of loot I get as a helldiver!”

“Helldiver?” Michael asked distractedly, the main part of his brain focused on the fact that the CEO had made a joke, and for the first time the joke seemed like a genuine one like those you say with your buddies, and not some sort of maneuvering on his part.

“Yup,” he said, “if this is hell, then we are helldivers. Badass name too, I can see it working very well in a sales pitch.”

Michael could see the CEO’s gears turning, and hoped the man would not come to him with a business model that basically consisted in taking people through the dungeon for money. They would be dependent on you, he could imagine the man saying, he who controls the coins, controls the world of magic.

The last thought didn’t have Travis’ voice at all. It was a mix between an unspecified movie character and Old Dave.

Shaking his head, Michael focused on the card the CEO gave him. It was a rigid thing, hefty and slightly bigger than an open hand. It was made of something that resembled metal but wasn’t, and a drawing on its surface glittered under the light of the headlamp like it was enamel. The beautiful decoration, depicting a man surrounded by lightning, half-visible and half not-there, swirled with magic.

Strong mana, some hint of Qi. The building blocks are the same as skills, but the way this card is made is clearly fundamentally different. The magic system is different.

He looked at his own reward for clearing the floor. Another upgrade skill stone. Comparing the two, he could see the striking difference between them. A skill stone was like a fractal, incomplete but potentially infinite. Only a small part of it was filled with magic, with so much more waiting to be filled up. Upgrade stones were similar to skill stones, in the way that they contained a part of the fractal that, once absorbed, integrated with the incomplete fractal of the skill and made it more powerful.

It’s how they level up and upgrade, is it not? He had seen some hints already.

By contrast, the card was whole. Complete, and a hell of a lot stronger than even his most powerful uncommon skill. However, it had no potential for growth.

The mana and Qi are crystallized, stuck in their form. There might be a way to change this form, but not without a lot of power being spent to first break the bonds shackling the magic into shape.

But it is very strong indeed. It smells of… space, lightning, a hint of something else as well. A concept, perhaps?

He didn’t even know how he knew. Ever since his [Mana Sense] had evolved, he was discovering new things and nuances to old things all the time.

“Alright,” he tossed the card to its rightful owner, who caught it with a hint of panic at seeing the card casually thrown at him. “You can slot it.”

“Slot it?”

“That’s how it works with cards,” Michael said, projecting expertise even though it was just a hunch. “Do you feel a tingle anywhere?”

Magic is always intuitive, at least at low levels. The dungeon always entices you at first, to get you hooked.

Interesting how Travis had taken to calling this place hell, even though Michael had only called it that on a whim. But he had to admit that helldiver was a badass name indeed.

Travis was fiddling around with the card. “In my left hand! I can feel it!”

“Push the card into the back of your hand, then. Let’s see what happens.”

The card disappeared, and a faint tattoo appeared in its place. The tattoo had a vague outline of the card’s design, bordered by silver. The card had a little Qi and dense mana like an uncommon skill. Silver must mean uncommon cards, then.

Unlike with skill stones, which followed another color scheme. Green for common, yellow for uncommon. Unfair, he thought, that the card user would get the easy color scheme similar to the coins while he got random colors.

“I see it!” Travis exclaimed. “This window you talked about!” he was in awe, as expected, “it describes what the card does! I can’t believe it. I have magic!”

To his credit, he didn’t go and try the card immediately. Instead, he looked at Michael expectantly.

“Read it to me,” he said. I wonder why he’s being so meek all of a sudden.

“Sure. You can teleport anywhere within line of sight instantaneously, leaving behind an explosion of static. Each jump consumes a charge. You can hold up to 15 charges, with one being generated every three hours. Maximum range of each jump: 1 kilometer.”

Michael whistled. “Damn,”

“Damn indeed.”

“Do you have a charge?”

The CEO grinned. “Damn right I do.”

“Wanna try it out?”

“Damn right I want.”

“Can you feel your mana?” Michael asked, and Travis nodded, “do you feel like it’s enough to power a jump?”

“I get the feeling it’s enough for one, no more.” The CEO said.

“Good. Think of me as an ally as you do it, please. Don’t want to be electrocuted. Then… just jump, I guess?”

Travis concentrated. For a moment nothing seemed to happen then, all of a sudden, there was an explosion. Michael blinked the afterimages from his eyes, glad he had made the man designate him as an ally because the ceiling was dripping molten lava where the electricity had singed it. He, on the other hand, was unharmed.

Ecstatic cheers and whoops came from the other end of the room, where a grinning Travis was wearing singed and smoking clothes.

“It worked! It’s an awesome power!”

“It’s a combat power.” Michael said, putting a damper on his mood. A necessary one. “Be careful how you use it. If I find out you’ve been misusing it…”

“No worries,” Travis said, nonplussed by the implied threat. “I know the terms. Besides, you hold the coins.”

“Good.”

What followed was perhaps the most shocking thing of the day. Travis shook Michael’s hand firmly, with respect, thanking him for his work.

“I’ll keep my end of the deal, young man,” the CEO said. “Don’t worry about it. But damn, seeing the card makes the whole experience worth it.”

“That’s how it gets you. It’s like gambling addiction.”

“Mmh,” Travis hummed, “I see. Hell entices you with a sweet carrot, gets you returning for more coins and more magic, and before you know it, you’re hooked. Is that how it went for you?”

Michael nodded.

“You don’t look too worse off for it, though,” he joked.

“I had nothing to lose.” Michael said coldly. “When you are at the bottom, the only place to go is up. And I don’t want to hear that I was in no true rock bottom, not from a billionaire CEO.”

Travis didn’t seem to take offense. “Wasn’t going to. Kicked out by your parents, about to lose your house. Tough. You’re right. I have too much to lose. That’s why I wanted you to escort me, and trust me when I say this: you won’t see me asking to come back here without you accompanying me. Well, that’s at least until we set up a better system.”

He winked.

Michael decided not to think about the implications of what the CEO said, lest he lose too much sleep over it. It was far into the future anyway, and he knew he would think about it anyway come nighttime.

“Time to leave, right?” Travis said.

He jabbed him with an elbow to the ribs like they were best buddies, and then they were outside. Michael didn’t let surprise and confusion at the CEO’s strange behavior last long, though, because there was work to be done. Still channeling his helldiver—as Travis called a dungeon delver—persona, he called Old Dave.