Chapter 353: Too Far

The bounty cleared on Monday morning, while Jin was sitting in Crowe’s class pretending to look at a map.

He’d returned with Okonkwo the previous day, after handing the tagged carcasses over at the waystation. An academy medic had checked his ankle and told him to keep it wrapped and spare it unnecessary strain. Crowe’s seated lesson suited him perfectly.

[Tamer Association — Bounty Settlement]

[Hollowmere Interior Bounty: Stonejaw Boar ×3 — verified]

[Paid to holder: 7,500 Credits]

A second notice came an hour later from the Hollowmere waystation, which had taken the carcasses under the standard processing arrangement. The meat had gone to the local butcher at the posted rate, less a share Corwen Pask had asked to buy back for his workers. The tusks and snout plates had gone to a materials dealer.

[Materials sale — net to holder: 1,860 Credits]

Jin read both twice and put his phone face down on the desk before Rowan could see him smiling at it.

After the hauler and supplies, there would still be a worthwhile amount left. Better, he could tell his father exactly where it came from. Arthur would ask about the hunt and nod and say good. Jin found himself looking forward to that almost as much as spending it.

He sent Arthur a short message during the break, then put the phone away before Crowe returned.

The Engine was where things got out of hand.

The breakthrough had already made the quarry’s familiar routes easier. As Jin learned Glitch’s changed reach and movement, he could repeat them faster still. Worker patrols that had once forced a retreat barely interrupted the Rank-2 Gold drake.

The difference was absurd. Runs that had taken twenty minutes took six. Packs that had once needed careful positioning simply broke against Glitch’s shoulder. Avatar Flicker, freed from having to cover him, harvested the stragglers in long, lazy arcs. Jin kept checking the Coin counter, delighted by how quickly it climbed.

On Tuesday night, he finally opened the bookmarked shop listing. There was enough for the purchase, and he was tired of looking at an empty heart.

[Purchase: Life ×1 — 10,000 Coins]

[Life: 0 → 1]

The heart icon lit up properly for the first time. Jin lingered over it.

Insurance, he thought. Finally.

The trouble started on Wednesday.

He farmed the rim again, then the inner quarry. Then he went down to the mantis tunnels and repeated the Guard Corridor. This time he knew where the soldier pairs waited. He drew them to the bend, kept Flicker’s route clear, and let Glitch meet each committed approach. There were still scythes to avoid, but far fewer wasted movements.

It felt incredible. He remembered how often these tunnels had killed his avatars. Now even this newer route was becoming familiar.

Beyond the corridor’s final arch lay the unexplored space: a low cavern lined with pale cocoons.

With a Gold drake and a Life in reserve, he could afford to explore a little.

Just a look.

He sent them into the quiet cavern.

Glitch’s avatar walked forward between the cocoons with his head low, Tremor Sense spread out through the floor. Jin watched the readout. A few faint shivers came from the nearest cocoons. Nothing heavy approached along the ground.

Avatar Flicker hung back near the arch.

There were marks on the ceiling. Jin glanced at them, then checked the ground readout again. They were long parallel scratches in the rock overhead, and higher up, among the stalactites, a few pale, empty husks hung like old paper lanterns.

Glitch reached the middle of the cavern.

Something dropped from the ceiling.

It was long and pale, nearly the color of the rock. It landed behind Glitch’s heavy crest, where the plates left a flexible seam that allowed his head to turn.

Two scythes went into that seam.

Glitch reared and threw himself sideways, slamming the thing against a cocoon wall, but it held on, and a second one dropped from the ceiling onto his flank. Then a third. The ground readout gave Jin no warning before they fell. Only now did he recognize the pale shapes among the stalactites for what they were. He’d walked beneath them.

Jin was already pulling Flicker’s avatar back through the arch. He was too late for Glitch.

[Avatar defeated: Glitch]

[Life consumed: 1 → 0]

[Respawning…]

Jin sat on his bed with the phone in his hand and waited for the dizziness. His shoulders tightened in anticipation of the hollow tiredness that had followed other respawns. He knew what the Life was supposed to do. That didn’t stop him bracing.

It didn’t come.

[Respawn: complete. Cost covered.]

His hands were steady and his head clear. He checked his pulse: fast from the shock, but otherwise ordinary.

It works.

He let out a startled laugh. No weakness, no blood loss, not even the beginning of that sick chill. He flexed his fingers once, delighted by how ordinary they felt.

Then he looked at the heart icon in the corner.

[Life: 0]

His smile faded.

Ten thousand Coins, he thought. Gone in eleven seconds. Because I didn’t look up.

He wanted to blame the ambush. Three creatures dropping onto Glitch while the first tore at his neck was a rotten way to die.

Then he remembered the scratches he’d glanced past.

You saw those, idiot.

Glitch’s new body filled so much of the passage that Jin had started watching everything bounce off it instead of watching where the next attack might come from. The lit heart had made entering feel harmless. He hadn’t even sent Flicker far enough ahead to inspect the ceiling.

He opened his notes before he could talk himself into another attempt.

Cocoon cavern: at least three pale ceiling ambushers. No warning from Tremor Sense before they dropped. Neck seam behind the crest is vulnerable.

Below that, he wrote a plan to inspect from the arch, keeping Glitch back and Flicker close enough to withdraw. Sending her blindly upward would only exchange one dead avatar for another.

He added a requirement to replace the spent Life before returning, then stared at the empty heart. Even with ten Lives, he would still have walked into that ambush if he ignored the warning signs.

Jin closed the dungeon. He’d learned something useful, but he would have preferred to learn it before spending ten thousand Coins.

Over the next few days, his Coin balance kept climbing from familiar routes around the rim and inner quarry. He left the tunnels alone.

He also kept a closer eye on Flicker than ever.

Since the small Sync, Verrick’s notes had been full of words like strong and confident. She flew the full length of the stable aisle every morning now, sometimes twice, and the little weight she’d gained was all muscle.

And on the other side of the bond, the gap between her and her avatar was still enormous. Her real body had absorbed one careful sliver of what her avatar had earned. The rest was still stored: growth earned across more runs than he wanted to count, waiting for her body to be ready.

On Saturday night, he opened her Sync panel to check, and the Engine had something new to say.

[Controlled Sync — Flicker]

[Recipient readiness: improved. Larger transfer within estimated capacity.]

[Recommendation: combine with stored item — Dual Fire-Wind Core]

[Projected compatibility: high]

[Recommended method: physical absorption during Sync]

[Manifestation cost: 15,000 Coins]

Jin sat up.

He’d kept the core since the Cinderstorm Hawk’s first clear, passing over its icon whenever he checked inventory. Flicker’s real body had always been too weak for it. Until now, he’d expected to keep waiting.

He checked his Coin balance. After a week of fast, careful farming, it was enough. Just.

Jin left the recommendation open while he read the care notes again. Her appetite was steady. She recovered well after flying and no longer needed a rest after every short effort. The Engine’s estimate agreed with the improvement he and Verrick had been watching.

He wanted to do it immediately. That was reason enough to put the phone down for a while.

Flicker was worrying at the edge of her food pouch when he went to check on her. She hopped onto his hand, heavier and steadier than the chick who had once struggled to stand. He remembered carrying home her weak egg and wondering whether he’d bought something he couldn’t save.

“Tomorrow, maybe,” he told her.

She pecked his thumb. Apparently tomorrow was too long to wait for supper.

He fed her, watched her settle, and booked a private care stall for Sunday evening. If she remained comfortable through the next day’s checks, he would use the core there, with Glitch beside them and everything ready before he began.