Chapter 6: Day 1

Name: Jain Templar

Race: Human (Base)

Level: 2

—

• Stats

• Abilities

• Help

“No way.”  But the words weren’t sincere. The truth was staring at him straight in the face.

Jain had spent most of his life on the mountaintop temple.  But that didn’t mean he was clueless to the world.  More so than the fact that he had spent his late teens traveling all around the U.S, he had traveled all over East Asia along with his mother.  He hadn’t just learned to play the Janggu, read Crystal Balls or the position of the Stars.  Among other things, he had experienced all the modern inventions of the 21st century, along with the rise of pop culture that came with it.

He wasn’t a gamer by any means.  But he’d seen enough to recognize this for what it was.

A small digital window obviously designed after a computer screen.

Bold letters making up his name.

A level that supposedly belonged to him.

All followed by a list of options.

Exactly like a videogame character screen.

Except he wasn’t in some VR simulation.  This was real life.

Another nail in the coffin of disbelief that Jain had surrounded himself with.  With each hammering blow, the disbelief continued to shatter, bit by bit.  As the shield splintered, so did everything that Jain believed about this world.  The Tsutsugamushi, Irina and her strength, not to mention her sword, the video game screens talking about the ‘Tower’ and now this screen with his name which was summoned with a mere thought.  All of those things combined continued to beat the fact that Jain’s conscious thought wasn’t under some hallucinatory drugs.

“Ok, ok.”  Jain muttered, pacing back and forth.  “Ok, so.  So.  So! SO! I’m stuck in the apocalypse.  Apparently monsters are real, which makes accepting those man-eating-bugs so much easier.  But it also means everything else is real.”

Thoughts of the giant-beak that snapped up Dr. Erste like a stork snapping up a frog on the Nature Channel made him pause.

He shook his head.  “Ok, ok, ok.  So that also means that Ms. Victoria’s Russian Secret over there really does have super strength.  And her demonic sword isn’t just a prop that she broke open one of the displays for.  It’s… It’s..”

The last words he said before the world ended as he knew it.

‘If only magic was real.’

Jain opened his mouth and closed it a few times.  Dread swept around him, a great whirlpool that turned his thoughts to putty; the succinct logical ideas and theories turning to an amalgam of potpourri, unrecognizable from one another.

“It is real.”  He said quietly.

But it didn’t make him happy in the slightest.

Deep inside, Jain had known.  He had known this wasn’t the ‘kool-aid’ so to speak.  That this wasn’t some elaborate prank by the latest streamers.  Or the latest prank television show.  But he hadn’t wanted to admit it, he wanted to push off the inevitable.  But now, he had been forced to accept it.

And accepting that meant accepting many other things.

If everything was real, that meant those kids who gave him the tutorial had been right.  It wasn’t just him in danger, was it?  How could an event of this scale be isolated geographically?  It had to be atleast city-wide, or state-wide or country-wide or worse, the whole world.  Then if that was true, it meant that there would be hundreds upon thousands upon millions of people that needed help.  Law enforcement, first line responders, EMTs, Fire Fighters.  Any public organization that Jain could think of would be neck-deep in emergencies.

Only if the monsters didn’t get them first.

That went for the whole planet.

Help wasn’t coming.  It really wasn’t coming.  Not the kind of ‘oh, expect the worst and hope for the best’ kind of ‘help wasn’t coming’.  Help wasn’t coming as in ‘You’re really on your own and see no way out’ kind of thing.  The type of acceptance that makes you feel despair.  A despair so raw that people in modern society has never felt.  The type of despair that cave divers feel; that people in airplane crashes feel or people stuck behind lines in war-torn countries.

Forget the salary and the 401K and eating Ramen Noodles.  Those were nothing compared to the depth of helplessness he was sinking into.  An endless mire of pitch black desperation which Jain didn’t have the words for.  It was at that moment that Jain just realized how blessed he was.  

How blessed he had been.

Remembering to breathe again, Jain gasped.  He swallowed a fistful of air, choking on it.  Suddenly, he felt tired.  And thirsty.  And cold.

And…

And lost.

Jain felt lost.  He felt powerless.  Without direction, without purpose.  Even if he did have a purpose, how could he-

Irina groaned.  She tossed to and fro, obviously in pain.

And with it, the black thought clouds gathering cleared.  The character screen snapped back into focus.

Jain could have accredited his moment of snapping back to reality to Irina’s pain.  The fact that she was in pain was just as real as the fact that the whole world was in flames.  She had saved his life and that was a fact.  Jain could have leaned on the crutches of doing something good for a change.

But really, honestly, deep down, Jain was just glad to have something to do.  A goal for him to focus on and to take his mind off of the ramifications of everything he’d just realized.  He didn’t need some big save-the-world and save-this-damsel-in-distress to help Irina.  He was just a guy.  A regular guy.  And he was glad for the distraction.

“Ok.  Ok, ok.”  He repeated, “Ok.  What can I do.  What can I do.”  

No first-aid skills.  Except what he’d seen on TV.

The screen dimmed a bit, like when you leave the computer on for too long.  It was going on ‘sleep’ mode again.  The solution was right there in front of him.  That was why he’d opened up the screen in the first place.  He’d just forgotten.

“Right.”  He said, and moved his hands to the screen.  “Monsters.  Captain Russia.  Demon Sword.  Superpowers for Jain.”

Jain pressed on the tab labeled ‘Stats’.  

Name: Jain Templar

Race: Human (Base)

Level: 2

—

Body: 2

Mind: 3

Spirit: 5

SP: 0

“Two?!”  Jain pressed on the screen again, hoping it was an error.  He dragged the screen down, watching it bounce and snap back to the center.  Still, the number for his Body stat remained two.  Without meaning to, Jain cast a forlorn look at Irina’s sword.  “So much for super strength.”  He grumbled.

But he wasn’t too disappointed.  He’d already known from the chase with the monsters that nothing had changed about his body.  No ‘super strength’ or ‘super speed’.  Quite frankly, he wasn’t ‘super’ at all, in any sense of the word.  That wasn’t what this new game world had blessed him with.  Besides, those things weren’t anything that could help him.  Right now, what he needed was a way to help Irina.

He pressed on ‘Abilities’.

Name: Jane Templar

Race: Human (Base)

Level: 2

—

[Passive]

Saju(사주) (UQ) 

[Active]

Identify (R)

Jain froze upon seeing the familiar word.

Saju (사주).  More formally known as Sajupalja (사주팔자).  Known as Ba-Zi among Chinese Practitioners.  The Four pillars of Destiny.

The ancient art of reading one’s fate.

It was an ancient art that divine practitioners practiced for ages long past.  A practice based on the theory that a person’s fate, or the ‘grooves’ of their lives could be divined by when they were born.  Through the art of Sajoo, the practitioner would be able to forewarn them of great misfortune or the opposite, great fortune.

Exactly like how Jain had been doing for Irina and before her, Dr. Erste.

His finger hovered over the ‘UQ’ part which briefly turned to ‘UNIQUE’ at his touch.  Without really thinking, he dragged his eye over the ‘Active’ portion of his abilities.

A single active ability.  Identify.

“No.”  Jain gasped, pressing hard on the skill, hoping that something would change.  And it did.

Name: Jane Templar

Race: Human (Base)

Level: 2

—

[Passive]

Saju(사주) (UQ) 

[Active]

Identify (RARE)

The ‘R’ turned into ‘RARE’ as long as his finger was hovering over it.

“No, shit.  Not that.”  Jain’s voice grew in volume.  He tapped on the screen.  “That’s not what I meant.  I need something that can actually help in this situation.  Not just telling me what things are.  I need something like a healing spell.  Or necromancy.  Or shoot lasers out of my eyes.  Something other than this!”

Still, the word ‘Identify’ refused to change.

“There has to be something.”  He muttered.

But there wasn’t much he could do.

There wasn’t anything else he could do, short of going out there and looking for a first-aid kit.  God only knew how long that would take.  There was no guarantee that Jain would make it back either.  With his pathetic ‘two’ in the Physical Stat and the ability to ‘Identify’ things, the best he could hope for was knowing what killed him.  Maybe he could look at monsters from afar and pick on ones that were weaker than him.

He slowly turned to look at the blood-soaked Irina.  Her chest was still rising and falling.

For now.

He could leave her here.

He could.

Try to escape.

The temptation was there.

Jain turned his head and something else caught his eye.

Irina’s demon-face-hilt sword.  It’s cold inanimate eyes stared at him, like it knew the direction of his thoughts.

Jain kept staring back, heart torn.

His mind made up, Jain got up and dusted his knees.

The smart thing to do was to walk away.  He found his feet moving in response.

‘Do the smart thing here, Jain.’  He said to himself.

Yet, his feet led him straight to the demon-faced sword.

“...Stupid.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.”  He chided, staring at it.

He couldn’t leave Irina here.  She’d saved him.  Yes, he could try and make his way out of here alone.  But Irina had asked him to work together.  Jain had given her his word.  He didn’t want to start out the End of the World with a lie.  No, not like this.

Jain had to find help.  To do that, he needed something other than ‘Identify’.

He reached for the sword and paused.

“...Why the hell not?”  Then almost wistfully, added, “Identify.”

To Jain’s surprise, the ability activated before the words were even out of his mouth.

Two small screens popped up on top of the Demon Sword.

Hades Sword (UQ)

—

The Sword’s true power remains sealed, as its wielder cannot handle it.

Part of the Kristoff Infernal-Weaponry set.

Soul-Bound: Irina Kristoff

+Strength Factor

+Speed Factor

+Regeneration Factor

[UNABLE TO IDENTIFY]

[UNABLE TO IDENTIFY]

[UNABLE TO IDENTIFY]

…

[GROWTH POSSIBLE]

And overlapping the first screen, a single line: [LEVEL REQ NOT MET]. But right now, he didn't care about any of that. Only one thing.

The line denoting ‘Regeneration Factor’.

Jain didn't need to be a gamer to put two and two together.

“Hallelujah.”  Jain said and immediately drew the catholic cross over his head and shoulders.  He wasn’t religious, far from it.  But somehow, saying ‘Hallelujah’ in front of the 'Hades' sword seemed so blasphemous.  With the whole apocalypse thing drawing near and monsters running amok, Jain didn’t want to take chances with the whole ‘saying the Lord’s name in vain’ thing.

The eyes of the demon hilt remained somber.

“Oh, come off it.”  Jain felt a roguish smile coming on, the smile that he used to wear constantly.  One of confidence, that good things were about to happen.  “I’ll say five Hail Marys later.”

Jain could’ve sworn the eyes glowed with hellish light. Ignoring it, Jain grabbed it by the hilt.

And unholy fire consumed him.

Blackish flames exploded out of the sword, a roaring inferno that threatened to swallow Jain’s arms up to the elbow.  Jain screamed, more from the surprise than pain, and immediately let go of the cursed sword.

The flames receded.

The sword gave off wafts of smoke, floating languidly in the open air.  The ground around it was singed with burn marks, precisely outlining the shape of the six-foot-long sword.  Jain then hissed, the lightning-quick jolt of adrenaline wearing off and finding his hands singed.  Dozens of tiny blisters were forming on his palms.

“You’re kidding me.  Really?”  Jain bit his lip.  “I’m trying to help here.”

Only silence.

"Fine, ten Hail Marys. Last offer."

Nothing.

Jain looked at his hands again.

Then at Irina.  The holes in the stomach.  The lacerations on her legs.  All the wounds she’d received from the Tsutsugamushi.

Was there a reason for him to go so far for her?

“Same old story.”  Jain growled, surprised at the hardness in his voice.  “You already made up your mind, Jain.  Come on.  You just fucking sat there while she was digging bugs out of her stomach. She got those because of you.”  

Once more, Jain approached the sword.

The sword began to smolder.

Jain nodded.  “Let’s do this.”  Then he grabbed it.

The burning sensation of raw flesh being incinerated by hateful flames overwhelmed his senses.  The sickening stench of his own skin being seared like steak.  The gut-wrenching feeling of his skin being peeled off everytime he let go of the sword; the handle which was now crusted over with his burnt flesh.  Everytime he dragged the sword, he had to let go of it after a few seconds from the pain alone.

By the time Jain was done, his arms were blistered up to the shoulders.  Raw scarlet blood pooled at the scars, with blackened pieces of bacon lining the rendered fat on his forearms.  It looked worse than it felt.

He’d done it.

The Sword lay on top of Irina’s body.

He watched as Irina’s wounds began to close.  Her breathing started to sound stronger immediately.  Some of the wounds puckered up and spat out the squirming insect eggs without needing anyone to stick their fingers inside.  Irina’s eyes fluttered once then twice, as the girl settled into the rhythmic breathing of someone asleep.

She started snoring.

Jain leaned against the wall, eyes starting to close.

And for the first time in months, perhaps for the first time in years, Jain Templar slept with a clear conscience.