Project Daily Grind (Mirror World Book #1) (29 page)

I looked around me. If I didn’t find any firewood, I’d have to burn what meager furniture was there. Wait. What was that?

I saw a small pile of something dark in the corner next to the furnace. Could it be coal, maybe? I walked over and focused on it.

Name: Fire Stones

What, was that it? No stats, no effects? Apparently, I’d have to act by trial and error. I picked up a stone and flinched as a system message unfolded before my eyes.

You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone

You’ve received +1 to your Skill.

Excuse me? I picked up another one.

You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone

You’ve received +1 to your Skill.

What was going on? I picked up another one.

You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone

You’ve received +1 to your Skill.

I dropped to my knees and began scooping up the stones into my knapsack. Only when it was packed to the brim did I force myself to stop. Actually, no. I still had one more slot left.

My hands shook as I produced the feather and hung it around my neck. Now I had space for one more stone.

You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone

You’ve received +1 to your Skill.

That was it. My knapsack was well and truly stuffed. My head spinning with excitement, I checked my stats.

Current skill: 259 pt.

The maximum skill limit for your current profession level: 270.

There were still about twenty stones left on the floor. I was panting as if I’d just run a hundred meters. I still couldn’t believe my luck.

A weak groan reminded me why I was here and what I’d been going to do.

I scrambled to my feet and walked over to the furnace. It was nearly out. Fire Stones, you say? Could they be what the old boy used for fuel? I had to try.

I picked up a stone and threw it into the furnace. The orange flames reluctantly licked its dark little body. At first I got the impression that it had only doused the fire further. But immediately the flames sprang back to life, coloring the black “coal” bright red.

That’s what it was, then! Excellent.

I opened my knapsack and poured its entire contents into the furnace that roared, happy with the unexpected offering. The cave grew noticeably warmer. After a minute, you could barely breathe with the heat.

I glanced at the old man. He stopped groaning. He didn’t seem delusional anymore, either. The heat must have helped him, poor wretch. Good.

Actually, what if I gave him a drop of my elixir? It couldn’t hurt him, that’s for sure.

Holding the old man’s head, I slowly poured the entire contents of the vial into his mouth. If this stuff helped me, it would surely do him some good.

Poor man. He was all skin and bones. Of course he was an NPC but still he was a sorry sight. Once he regained consciousness, I’d give him another elixir.

I perched myself on the edge of the bed and adjusted his miserable excuse for a pillow, all the while trying not to look at the stones. What if the old man got angry with me for having thrown so many of them into the fire?

What was I like? Pierrot and his tricks! Who would have thought? And I’d been a right piece of work, pigging out on the stones like a junkie on a fix.

“Brolgerd? Is that you, my boy?” a crackling old voice made me jump.

I turned round. Two eyes pale with age stared at me.

“No, sir,” I said soothingly. “I’m not Brolgerd.”

“Who are you?” the old man whispered.

“Just a traveler,” I said. “I’ve come to see the legendary elder of my people...”

“And what you saw was a bag of old bones,” he ended my phrase for me, smiling weakly. “What is your name, traveler?”

“You can call me Olgerd, Sir.”

“Sounds almost like Brolgerd...” he heaved a sigh. “Give me your hand.”

I obeyed. The master’s hand turned out unexpectedly strong as if forged from steel.

“I can feel the callouses of a mine digger,” he said.

“That’s right.”

He chuckled. “I can also feel you wear something made by my apprentice. I’d sense this metal anywhere. Brolgerd was the only one who succeeded in combining silver and heavenly Isilird.”

I ripped the charm from my neck and offered it to the man. My heart missed a beat. He didn’t take it though. His fingers touched it lightly.

“That’s right,” he said. “This is it. The Feather of Hager the Night Hunter.

I glanced at the charm, hopeful.

Name: the Feather of Hager

Effect: [unavailable]

Restriction: only Ennan race

Level: 0

The effect? What was its effect?

My virtual heart was about to jump out of my chest.
“
You don’t happen to know more about this item, do you?” I mouthed, my lips dry.

Master Grilby shrugged. “Brolgerd made it for Tobold I, the king of Ennans. That’s all I know...”

I sighed, disappointed. Having said that, I shouldn’t complain really.

The old man went on, “When I was young I used to toil in the mine too. It was a long time ago. We all start by getting to know the stone. Brolgerd, my best apprentice, used to go down the mines with a group of prospectors, studying the underground veins,” he shivered. “I seem to be a bit chilly. Could you add some fire stones to the furnace? Let it burn nice and hot. I want to get warm before I leave.”

Mechanically I headed for the remaining stones and started collecting them. What did he mean, ‘before I leave’? Where did he want to go in his state?

I placed the last stone into my bag. A new system message barely registered in my mind,

You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone

You’ve received +1 to your Skill.

Congratulations! Your professional level has grown! You're a Master Digger now!

That was it. I was a Master Digger now. I must have broken every profession-leveling record in history. Had the admins been following my progress? What was going to happen to me now? Would they delete my account? Somehow I didn’t think that Pierrot hadn’t made a provision for that. If he’d allowed me to level up just like that, it probably wasn’t as bad as it looked.

This was crazy. I made Master! In ten minutes flat!

Pensively I scooped the remaining nine fire stones which had brought me one point skill each.

“Olgerd?” the old man called weakly. “Where are you?”

“I’m here, Master. I’m coming.”

I glanced at my stats,

Current skill: 279 pt.

The maximum skill limit for your current profession level: 690.

For some reason, Pierrot had only provided me with 170 of these cheat stones. You’d think he could have left a nice big pile here, enough for me to make Expert level too? So apparently he didn’t want me to stick my neck out too much. Then again, how was I supposed not to, if my levels kept mushrooming out of all proportion? He probably knew more about me than I could ever guess. For all I knew, he might be keeping his tabs on me 24/7: both in the game and in real life.

I poured the remaining stones into the fire and produced another vial, “Master, I have something here to make you feel better.”

He shook his head. “Don’t waste your precious elixirs on me. Nothing can help me now. I’ll warm myself a bit by the fire, then I’ll be on my way. Sit here next to me, please. I have something to tell you.”

What was he talking about? He couldn’t go anywhere in his state! Still, I obediently plonked myself down next to him.

“Every Ennan can evolve from an ordinary journeyman into a Lord of Elements. Not everyone can do it but those who do, go down in the history of our people. My eyes may be blind, but I can still see that you’re hardworking, strong and kind-hearted. I’m not going to ask you this question again. Are you ready to start on the hard road to true craftsmanship?

My throat rasped. “I... I am, Master.”

He laid his hand, heavy with fatigue, onto my shoulder. “Very well, my boy. It’s a shame I can’t be with you on your path. You’ll have to learn the ancient lore all on your own. But don’t you worry. You can work hard, and that’s the main thing. Promise me to remain strong and kind-hearted. Here, take this.”

He reached under his tattered cloak and, as if by magic, produced five scrolls. “These are the blueprints of my five greatest inventions. You’ll only be able to grasp one of them. The remaining four are yet beyond your comprehension. But don’t you despair! As long as you study the first one and practice building it, the other four will cease to be a mystery. I’m sorry... my time is up... I must return to the Lord of the Underworld. Remember, my boy: you must work hard. Then you can achieve your goal. Fare thee well!”

He lay back on the pillow and closed his tired eyes.

I didn’t expect what happened next. The body of Master Grilby, the Legendary Elder, vanished into thin air. I was left alone in the cave.

It took me some time to notice a new 3D message,

Congratulations! You’ve completed a hidden quest: Secret Knowledge!

You’ve received a second profession: Engineering Designer!

You’ve received an item: Blueprints of a Replicator

You’ve received an item: [unavailable]

You’ve received an item: [unavailable]

You’ve received an item: [unavailable]

You’ve received an item: [unavailable]

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I
t was the third day of my Mellenville stay and I was completely done in. First thing in the morning, I’d completed a quick quest run, seeing as Nikanor the Lawyer didn’t overwork me at all. We seemed to be developing a nice working relationship—if you can call it so, of course, considering my employer was an NPC.

He was a grumbling old sort, you had to give him that. But at least he seemed to approve of my fervor. Every morning at 8 a.m. on the dot I was in his office awaiting his orders.

Last night I’d even managed to complete my mining quota. Emeralds were definitely the way to go. I still had the two-week contract with Lady Mel to work off. And then we’d see...

One thing I definitely wasn’t going to do was change my gear for that of an Expert Digger. Exposure was the last thing I needed at the moment. Besides, my old kit was good enough. Emeralds provided an excellent source of income. I needed stability, so I wasn’t going to change anything any time soon. Surprisingly, my skill levels kept growing. Not as fast as they would have, had I switched to Expert resources, but still.

So now it was the evening of my third day; I’d completed my mining quota and come back to the inn earlier than expected. What I needed was a meal, a shower and some well-deserved rest. I’d have to visit Elder Adkhur some other time. Tomorrow or the day after, maybe. I already had my hands full with what I’d already received.

So I was the proud owner of a second profession. I was an Engineering Designer. It sounded cool but rather incomprehensible. What was I supposed to design? A spaceship? A tank? Or the latest-generation state-of-the-art toilet bowl?

When I’d finally “studied” the first scroll last night, I’d been rubbing my hands with glee, but today I wasn’t as optimistic. Firstly, because I was supposed to use it to build some weird machine called a Replicator. Secondly, because—apart from the fact that I had no idea what the hell it was supposed to do—putting the thing together might take a few days.

The whole assembling procedure consisted of five stages, each of which was dedicated to creating one particular element of the design. In other words, the blueprint consisted of five smaller ones which in turn contained lists of ten ingredients each. The procedure was simple: by collecting all ten ingredients, you could activate one element of the design. Easy peasy.

So that’s what I was doing now: rummaging through the auctions for the resources I needed. You had to give Pierrot justice: he’d chosen the cheapest and most accessible of ingredients. Who could have told me that you could create a Sensory Spiral by mixing Sticky Yellow Potion, Rose Tea, Bone Dust of a Grroggr and other such junk?

In total, all of the ingredients had cost me eighty gold. All I had to do now was activate one of the secondary designs, and I’d have the first part of the machine. The biggest problem was that activation was going to cost me thousands of points of Energy. For that reason, the building of the machine was going to take several days.

I opened the blueprint and chose design #1. A system message helpfully informed me of the ingredients necessary. It was followed by an alert,

Warning! Building a Sensory Spiral will deprive you of a 1000 pt. Energy!

Accept: Yes/No.

With a sigh, I clutched a Stamina elixir and prepared for the worst. No idea what could happen next: I might collapse in a heap for all I knew. In any case, an Energy drain like that was going to affect me, that’s for sure. I pressed
Yes
.

Congratulations! You’ve created an item: Sensory Spiral.

You’ve received +25 to your skill.

Current skill: 25

Maximal skill pt. for your current profession level: 200

My vision faded. My head went round. It felt like being squashed by a gigantic press. I gulped the elixir and sat back. Some profession! You could pop your clogs just by leveling.

A new message appeared,

Cooldown alert! You can create the next part of the design in 07:59:59... 07:59:58…

I struggled to scramble out of the soft chair. Jesus. This didn’t feel good. Groaning like an old man, I hurried to change out of my kit into the pajamas. The bed welcomed me.

I remembered how back in the Spider Grotto the other guys kept dreaming about acquiring a second profession. According to them, that was a totally different ball game. It turned you into someone of a much higher standing.

Maybe. But personally, I didn’t feel any different. Last night I’d entered
Replicator
into the auction search and found nothing. Mirror World’s market knew of no such product. So this freshly-minted Engineering Designer had better learn to be patient.

As I was falling asleep, I thought that I might have been better off choosing some other profession. How about a Master Mitten Knitter? I’d have spent my evenings churning out pair after pair of wooly gloves without a care in the world...

* * *

“I knew it!” Weigner slammed his ham of a fist on the table. “That’s typical! I told you that workers who show promise don’t stay here long.”

This was the sixth day of my extended immersion. We were all sitting in The Stickleback Inn: Weigner, Doryl the dwarf, and myself. The place was decent, the food was good. Most importantly, it was affordable.

“What makes you think I’m leaving?” I asked him.

“Doryl, did you hear that?” the Rhoggh bellowed, furious. “First he asks us all sorts of funny questions and then he’s upset when I put two and two together!”

“I only asked you whether my contract with Lady Mel was valid in all her territories. That’s all I asked.”

“Doryl, say something!” Weigner persisted. “Can’t you see he’s going? Mark my words! I won’t be surprised if he’s already packed his bags!”

I could understand his predicament. He’d just reported that he’d successfully recruited a new worker with potential—and before you knew it, the said worker was already looking for greener pastures.

He was right, to a point. My contract was expiring in a week. My trial period was almost over. The duration of my future contract partially depended on Weigner’s recommendation. My idea was simple: sign a contract with Lady Mel here in Verdaille but work somewhere else. I had plenty of reasons to do so. Firstly, it was about time I moved on to class 3 resources. None of which were available here, unfortunately. Secondly, I shouldn’t flash my new status around.

Dammit. It looked like my Operator had doomed me to never put down roots.

“Give it a break, man,” Doryl tried to pour oil over his indignation. “Sooner or later it would have happened anyway.”

Weigner waved his words away. Doryl turned to me. “You have a plan already?”

Did I have a plan? You could say so, I suppose.

“You see,” I began tentatively, “I was just curious. Let’s presume I like my employer but for some very serious reason I have to, er, leave my current position. Let’s presume I have to move town...”

“And let’s presume your current employer owns some mines in the town you’ve moving to,” a smiling Doryl completed my phrase for me.

I nodded. “I can see you know what I mean. What I want to ask is whether my contract is only valid in one particular location?”

“It’s not,” Weigner grumbled.

“By signing a contract with Lady Mel you can indeed work in any one of her mines,” Doryl agreed. “Doesn’t matter where.”

“She has lots of emerald fields,” Weigner said softly. “She even has a few diamond ones.”

I tensed. I’d spent days poring over the map trying to locate a single diamond field—to no avail. You could buy diamonds at auction but you couldn’t find any diamond mines. How was this possible? And I couldn’t even do a quick forum search. What a shame. Just when I needed the information the most. So basically, it was ass about face as usual.

Doryl grinned. “She’s a prudent old girl, is our Lady Mel. She must have laid her manicured hands on the juiciest locations already during the clans’ turf wars.”

“You bet,” Weigner chuckled. “Now all she has to do is reap the dividends.”

“And so she should,” Doryl said. “I dread to think how much those wars cost them.”

“Quite a bit,” Weigner agreed.

“Not even counting the Blackout spell,” Doryl added. “You have any idea how much she paid the wizards for casting that?”

“Don’t want to know,” Weigner replied. “I've got to save every penny to pay for my son’s studies while they... never mind. They’re too spoiled, that’s all. You see
them
living on a wage?”

Doryl guffawed. “Depends what you mean by a wage. According to statistics, most people need fifty thousand dollars a year to be happy. Happy not as in, celebrate their luck. I mean
happy
happy: a long-term satisfaction with their quality of life.”

“That’s about four grand a month,” Weigner commented. “The question is, can money make you happy?”

“It might,” I said pensively. “It’s sort of two-way relationship.”

“Sure,” Doryl said. “A well-fed European is happier than a starving African.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I said. “What I mean is this momentous shift in a family’s life when tables turn. When people who used to be dirt poor finally reach financial stability. When they can at last get their hands on a decent car, when they can take the kids to the movies every Sunday, get nice new clothes for everyone and stop freaking out about putting food on the table. I’m talking about basic human needs here.”

“Middle-class needs,” Doryl added.

“Exactly. But then they enter the next stage. They get used to this particular level of income. It doesn’t make them happy anymore.”

“What did I say? Spoiled!” Weigner said. “So it’s not the fact of having the money, it’s how much money you have.”

I chuckled. “So I don’t think happiness has anything to do with the size of your paycheck. It’s more to do with the work itself and the meaning it adds to your life. What I want to say is, as long as you keep working and making progress, as long as you try new things and fight obstacles—that’s what makes you happy. Provided you move forward, there’s hope for a better life for your loved ones. My happiness is in my family’s health.”

We paused, pensive. Finally I said, “There's one thing I don’t understand. If class 3 resources are not disclosed, how is a humble Master Digger supposed to choose an employer? Why make them secret in the first place?”

The other two burst out laughing. “A humble Master Digger! Did you hear that? He’s something! That just made my day!”

Weigner slapped his clawed hand on the table, guffawing. The cups and plates clattered their protest.

Doryl offered a reserved smile. “Just imagine I called him a black scavenger the day we met.”

“A humble Master Digger!” Weigner repeated, still laughing. “You’re something, you!”

“Sorry, Olgerd, no offense,” Doryl said. “You need to understand us. The thing is, there’re quite a few Master Diggers in Mirror World. But there’s no such thing in Mirror World as a
humble
Master Digger. They’re anything but.”

Wegner had already calmed down. “All Masters are the property of their clans. Strong clans. All such players live in closed settlements that belong to various rich influential players.”

“Give it some time, seven to eight months normally,” Doryl added, “and if you keep working at this pace, you’re bound to receive an offer-”

“... which you will find hard to refuse,” I finished his phrase.

”Yeah, sort of,” Weigner nodded. “This isn’t a game, Olgerd. I’m very happy you realize it now.”

Doryl chuckled. “One might think you’re talking of selling him into slavery. Yes, sure, all clans view their top-level workers as some sort of strategic resource. You can’t deny it. Just don’t forget that usually all such top-level workers are very comfortable with their agreement.”

“As comfortable as their powerful employers want them to be,” Weigner’s voice rang with sarcasm. “What’s lost is the illusion of freedom. You stop feeling as if you can take on the whole world.”

“That’s exactly what it is: an illusion!” Doryl exclaimed. “There is no freedom. That’s fiction. A free man doesn’t last long. He’s either eliminated or shoved back into the pen. So his quality of living depends on the price tag he puts on his so-called freedom. We’ve been told all sorts of noble lies about lofty goals, but that’s just wishful thinking. An illusion, if you wish. So my advice to you, Olgerd, would be this. When the day comes, try and squeeze your future employer for every bit of money he or she can offer you. Otherwise you might live to regret it.”

“He will,” Weigner added with a sarcastic grin. “They’ll work him into the ground for every promise of a comfortable life he might get.”

As I walked back to the inn, I kept pondering over the best course of action. I could try to contact the leader of the strongest clan in the entire Mirror World and offer him my services. Or I could try and sell myself to the highest bidder. This seemed like the most logical solution. But was it the best one? Dmitry and I had discussed it already. They would turn me into a pack horse, locking me up in some mine or other where I’d be free to bash at the rock and fill the great clan’s vaults.