Strength Based Wizard

Chapter 21

How to Win Friends & Level Up, Part VI (Cheers!)

My mouth parts into a wide, toothy grin.

“Well…” I slap my hands together, sending up a small puff of marshmallow dust. “Alrighty, then!”

Clyde stows his pistol in a flicker of pixelated light, the weapon disassembling into shimmering motes before vanishing completely.

He stretches his arms over his head, popping a few joints. “I imagine the Exploration Team and other Extraction Teams will be circling back soon. They’ll want us done with this sector so we can all return to the Gate.”

I nod. How much time had I spent grinding on candy-composed snails? Too long, if Clyde and Veronica had stumbled upon my plot. I should’ve been more cognizant of the time, more careful and likely more frequent with backtracking to the Wind Shard veins to disguise what I was really up to. Oh well… I’m not unhappy with how things turned out.

Clyde strides over to the Bubblegum Piglet, which is still sniffing around the wreckage of its mother.

I swallow, a small lump forming in my throat. The thing nudges at her cooling, gelatinous corpse, letting out a confused little snort. The entire scene makes me feel like absolute shit. This is Littlefoot from The Land Before Time coming back from my childhood to fuck me up all over again.

Clyde rests a hand on the piglet’s back. “For now, let’s grab more Wind Shards and get back to the Gate to rendezvous with the big boys.”

Veronica isn’t listening. She’s watching the piglet, arms crossed, a deep frown on her face. She jerks her chin toward it.

“What do we do about that one?”

I blink.

She continues, “I feel terrible. We killed its mom—sure, she tried to smother us to death with molten sweet cream, but still. Can it even survive without her?” She shifts uncomfortably. “Seems crueler to leave it alone.”

I open my mouth, ready to disagree. I can’t bring myself to off Littlefoot. Not now, after looking into its sweet bubblegum eyes.

But before I can say anything, Clyde clicks his tongue and gestures at the piglet’s hind leg.

“I don’t think we’ll be leaving it alone,” he says. He points. “Check this out.”

I squint, stepping closer. Sure enough—burned into its left rear flank is a faint, almost white brand.

FIEND FARMS.

My stomach twists. Something about the pig being branded doesn’t sit right with me.

Clyde watches the Bubblegum Piglet for a second longer, then shakes his head.

“I’ve read some things about Candy Land on the Discussion Channels,” he says, dusting marshmallow fluff from his pantlegs. “Folks say there are sapient inhabitants in some of these Realms—including this one. Some mention native peoples of Candy Land being as high as Level 30.”

My stomach lurches. Level 30? I barely survived a Level 10 pig made of marshmallow fluff—and probably wouldn’t have if Clyde and Veronica hadn’t been there. If there are candy people running around at Level 30, I sure as hell don’t want to meet them.

Clyde sighs. “I’m sure Fiend Farms will come looking for their property. But I don’t want to be anywhere near when they find their sow.” He eyes the corpse of the Sweets Sow.

Veronica makes a mock salute. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s skedaddle!”

She un-summons her armor and hammer, and I do the same, though I keep my Lumberjack Boots on, as I don’t have normal shoes with me.

We turn to leave the clearing, but before I take two steps, a notification dings in my interface.

Achievement Unlocked!

Achievement: [Teamwork]

[You fought together, bled together, and most importantly, didn’t let each other die horrible deaths! Congratulations!]

Reward Pending: [Claim Now in Menu]

Huh.

Before I can even mentally select the reward option, Clyde raises a hand.

“If you guys just got the same notification as me, don’t open the reward.”

I frown. “Why not?”

Clyde jerks his thumb back in the direction of the Gate. “Once we’re through, they’ll ask us to hand over all the materials we extracted from this Realm.”

Veronica groans. “Ugh, bureaucratic bullshit.”

“Yeah. And they’re thorough.” Clyde continues. “They have devices that link to the Gate’s signature and scan us for anything matching it. Any loot we pick up in the Realm? It pings. So, if this reward we just got came from the System here, it might register. Which raises hard questions.”

He nods toward my backpack. “That also goes for that little buddy of yours—if you picked him up in these woods.”

“Uh…” I adjust my bag’s strap. “He actually tagged along with me from the outside.”

Clyde blinks. “You’re kidding… You’ve got a pet slime?”

I glance at Veronica, half-expecting her to rat me out.

She just grins.

Clyde lets out a low whistle.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I say quickly.

Veronica snorts. “I already said we’re interested in whatever little leveling scheme you’re running. And honestly? That slime is freaking adorable.”

Clyde shakes his head. “I agree with her. I would never turn in something that cute. Was it really riding the piglet?”

Veronica laughs.

I sigh, relieved. But then I glance at Veronica—the same woman who, not two minutes ago, suggested killing the orphaned Bubblegum Piglet. I swallow.

My Wizard’s Hands silently float between us, crossing through my field of vision. They look… Bored? I dismiss the Spell and the three hands vanish in a puff of silvery dust.

Clyde claps his hands together. “Alright, enough chit-chat. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

We make our way back toward the Gate, stopping every so often for me to snag more Wind Shards.

And the whole time, I keep one eye on the trees. Because if Fiend Farms is really out there… I don’t want to be around when they come knocking.

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The Gate exit looms ahead, a swirling mass of shimmering energy suspended in the archway. The hum of magic fills the air, a deep, resonant thrum that vibrates in my chest.

The other Teams arrive moments later. Once they confirm that we’re finished, we all step through the Gate.

For a split second, my stomach flips, and the world blurs. Then, we’re back.

The transition from Candy Land’s chocolate and molasses forest to the the Municipal Guild’s concrete work site is jarring. My boots click against the concrete paved surface of the outdoor storage facility. The air smells like a construction site and ozone.

The Exploration Team mill about, their gear caked in caramel, gum, and what I’m fairly certain is blood. Some chatter in small groups, while others move toward the processing stations, where Municipal Guild members in pressed uniforms are waiting. I’m pretty sure those weren’t there when we entered the Gate, which means they must have arrived while we were in the other Realm.

Just as Clyde predicted, we’re asked to hand over any extracted materials.

A Municipal Guild officer, a tall woman with severe cheekbones and half-moon glasses, waves a wand over Clyde first. The thing looks like an airport security scanner—all sleek metal with glowing runes running along its length.

She scans him once. Then again.

Nothing.

Veronica goes next.

Nothing.

Then me.

I hold my breath.

She passes the wand over my chest, arms, legs.

Nothing.

I exhale.

“Alright,” the officer says, expression neutral. “You’re free to go.”

We step away from the processing zone and move toward the exit.

Veronica stretches, then glances at her phone. “So,” she says, tapping at the screen, “would either of you be interested in grabbing a drink? Probably a good idea for us to circle up.”

Clyde raises an eyebrow.

She tilts her head. “Looks like there’s a hole-in-the-wall bar not too far from here.”

Clyde shrugs. “Sure.”

I nod. “Yeah, why not.”

The bar—Milton’s Saloon—is exactly the kind of place you’d expect a dive bar to be. Dim lighting. Stale air. Wood paneling that hasn’t been updated since the seventies. A jukebox sits in the corner, next to a vending machine filled with cigarettes. A classic rock joint fills the air.

The only other person here is an old bartender who looks like he’s been around since the dawn of time. He gives us a single glance, grunts, and goes back to wiping down a glass.

I order a light draft beer. Veronica does the same. Clyde, ever the refined gentleman apparently, orders a whiskey, neat, along with a glass of water.

We take a booth in the corner, where the light is just dim enough to make everything feel just a little bit more secretive. Clyde and Veronica settle into one side, while I squeeze into the other, Jelly Boy (nestled safely within my backpack) beside me.

Veronica leans forward, resting her elbows on the sticky table. “Alright,” she says. “So, what were you planning?”

I freeze. “Er…”

Clyde, thankfully, saves me. He takes a small sip of his whiskey, then sets the glass down.

“Why don’t we start,” he says, “by actually getting to know each other a bit first, hm?” He arches an eyebrow. “Best to know who we’re getting in bed with, right?”

Clyde starts, swirling his whiskey in his glass before taking a slow sip. He sets it down with a quiet clink, then leans back, eyes flicking between us.

“Clyde Richmond,” he says. “I’m twenty-eight.”

He pauses, like he’s lining up his words, making sure they hit the target.

“Before the System, I worked at a library on the east side. I was a clerk. Good job. Quiet. Got to browse on the computer during slow hours, or read.” He tilts his head slightly. “But once the System arrived, and things settled down after all that madness when it first hit? Well, I got drawn in.”

His fingers drum once against the side of his glass.

“I think this is what’s meant for me, you know? I feel it,” he added. His eyes grow a little glossy and distant, as though he’s looking at something else.

He snaps out of it. He takes another sip, eyes steady over the rim.

Then he nods at me. “You guys?”

I clear my throat, suddenly very aware that I do not have a rehearsed answer.

“Uh. Right. Joe Sullivan.” I pick up my beer, mostly so I can have something to do with my hands. “I moved back here from New York City around Christmas, after losing my job.”

Clyde tilts his head. “What kind of job?”

“Finance.” I say the word like it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

There’s a brief moment where I expect one of them to make some kind of joke about finance bros, but instead, they just nod.

I push forward.

“Well, the System arrived. Then there was that long hiring freeze while everyone figured out what the hell was going on. Everything was so up-and-down in the market.” I exhale through my nose. “I didn’t do anything System-related until recently, other than work out.” I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Anyways, I ended up getting a job offer but… I don’t know. I was sick of being in the same cycle. It never worked for me. I thought I would pursue something else…Something new.”

I feel like I’m rambling, so I shut up and drink my beer.

Clyde and I both turn to Veronica.

She’s mid-sip, glass tilted, eyes glancing between us.

She swallows and blinks. “Oh. Right.” She sets the beer down.

“Veronica. Veronica Sampietro.”

Her fingers tap against the side of the glass.

“I was in law school. Before, you know…” She gestures vaguely at everything.

“In my first year. Did pretty well first semester, actually. Thought I might even be on pace for a federal clerkship. Beginning of second semester… Well.” She breathes out sharply, a not-quite laugh. “When your Constitutional Law professor explodes in front of your class, it’s a little traumatizing.”

There is a beat of silence as Clyde and I process that sentence. I can’t help but think of Dave. Four months later, and the scene of the break room still haunts me.

She takes another sip before continuing.

“And then there was the first Gate. Anyways, my grades that semester tanked, and I lost my scholarship.” She rolls her eyes. “Which was total bullshit.”

Another sip.

“But, after a little bit of therapy, I came to terms with this System, and I saw what the top-performing Guilds pay, and well…” She shrugs. “Yeah. Here I am.”

Silence.

Then, as if on cue, we all take a sip of our drinks, awkwardly.

Veronica leans forward, resting an elbow on the table, and eyes my bare arms with undisguised skepticism.

“So,” she says, “you spent four months just using the System to work out?”

Her gaze flicks over my biceps, then back to my face.

“While I guess I can’t deny the results, seems kind of stupid, no?”

I blink. “Uh.”

Clyde barks out a laugh, slapping the table lightly.

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” he says, still grinning. “The System makes people stronger. Faster. Gives them skills that break reality. And you were over here maxing out your bench press?”

I shrug, but I’m grinning a little, too. “It made sense at the time. Veronica had a therapist, I had the gym, okay?...”

“Alright, gym bro,” Clyde says, still amused. “Why don’t you tell us what you were actually planning?”

I take a sip of my beer, gather my thoughts.

“Alright,” I say. “Here’s the thing. From everything I’ve read, Exploration Teams are the only ones who get real opportunities to fight mobs and gain experience. Extraction Teams? Just glorified workers. Support Teams outside the Gate? Even worse.”

Veronica nods along.

“The problem,” I continue, “is that most Exploration Team postings require you to be at least Level 20 and have your Class selected. Folks on the Channels seem to recommend being at least Level 15 before using your Bronze Ticket, if you want to play it safe. Maybe Level 10 on the lower side.”

I glance between them.

“My plan was to take on as many easy Extraction jobs as possible, and use them as an opportunity to kill mobs on the side. Grind XP. Level up faster. Then apply for an Exploration job. Maybe a private Guild.”

I take another sip, but my eyes are on Veronica and Clyde.

She tilts her head. “Huh.”

“Not a bad plan,” Clyde muses. “Simple. Slow, though. Potentially dangerous, too. If you’re on an Extraction Team, you won’t have real backup. If you wander into something bigger than you can handle…” He clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, well,” I say, “it was the only option I could think of.”

Veronica leans back, swirling her beer. “Would be a lot easier if the three of us applied to the same jobs together.”

Clyde snaps his fingers, pointing at her. “That’s what I was about to say.”

He looks at both of us. “Think about it. If we don’t update our records with the Municipal Office, we’ll all likely be placed on lower level Extraction Duty. Likely together, on many jobs.” He leans in, lowering his voice slightly. “That means easy jobs. Low-risk. We can cover for each other while grinding XP in the background.”

Veronica grins. “It could work.”

I sit back, considering. It could work.

It would be faster. Safer.

I nod.

“Alright,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

We finish our drinks, then pull out our phones and sign up for a Rank E Gate job two days from now.

Clyde raises his whiskey glass.

“To the start of a mutually beneficial friendship.”

We clink our drinks together, and I can’t help but feel like this is the start of something big.

The conversation shifts to our System-gifted capabilities.

“After all, if we’re going to form a rag-tag party, we should know what each other can do,” says Clyde.

Clyde’s Harvester Discipline grants him basic competency in one-handed, medium-ranged firearms generated by the System and a Skill called ‘Scan (Beginner),’ which reveals to him vulnerable areas on a target creature. He also has a Skill called ‘Help (Beginner)’ that can boost an active Skill being used by someone else.

Veronica’s Warrior Discipline seems to be geared towards a ‘tanking’ role. Her ‘Center of Attention (Beginner)’ Skill increases a target creature’s ‘ire’ towards her and draws their attention. It’s triggered by her needing to insult them, apparently. She also explains the Skill she used to send the Sweets Sow airborne. A juggling Skill called ‘Liftoff (Beginner).’

I explain my Spellcasting prowess. “I’ve currently got access to a Light cantrip, and a nasty Wizard’s Hand that can pack a real punch!”

Veronica palms her forehead, clearly re-thinking who she chose as her party spellcaster. “And you’re sure you’re not some kind of magically-supplemented fist-based melee Class?” she asks.

“I technically don’t have a Class… yet!”

And so the conversation continues.

We eventually leave the bar, having exchanged contact info and agreed to meet again before our first job.

I head to my car, the evening air cool against my skin. The sky is starting to turn the color of a new bruise.

For a moment, I think about just going home and relaxing. Maybe putting on a show for me and Jelly Boy, having a snack, and letting the day settle.

But the sun is only just beginning to set, and I have so much more to do tonight.

First things first…

I need to see what reward I got from that Gate.