The joy of reuniting with Sumire was dampened by another system glitch—this time, a serious one. A blue screen appeared before my eyes, and I nearly had a heart attack. I immediately checked my inventory. Thank all the gods, demons, and supernatural beings—it was working, and almost everything was still there. Only five bottles of moonshine were missing, but that's a small price to pay. I can brew more. The important thing is my rarest potions are safe; everything else is replaceable.
Just as I sighed in relief, I felt an illusory barrier activate. Sumire vanished, and the blue screen turned white, displaying text:
Dear User of the Gamer System Version T.-3000, due to… technical difficulties, the system will be unavailable for several days. We apologize for the inconvenience.
—God of Games
That's it? Where's the compensation? I nearly had a heart attack, and all I get is an apology? You can't cook an apology in a cauldron or sell it for soul crystals!
— Wait, wait! Dear sir, I don't see any compensation here.
For what?
— For what? How about emotional distress? My grand plans to clear barriers? Identifying my newly brewed potions? The losses are huge—the missed profits are incalculable!
I'll settle for the recipes of all potions sold in the game shop, two samples of each potion, ten skill copy orbs, twenty skill extraction orbs, and a master alchemist's portable lab.
Isn't that a bit much?
Recipes for Minor Healing, Regeneration, and Stamina Potions, one skill extraction orb, and a medium cauldron.
— How could you? I'm a poor, lonely orphan living on a tiny stipend! Recipes for all potions in the game shop, one sample of each, nine skill copy orbs, eighteen skill extraction orbs, and a portable alchemist's lab.
After five hours of fierce haggling, I became the proud owner of one skill copy orb, two skill extraction orbs, a set of ten cauldrons, and ten mid-tier potion recipes.
— There we go, perfect. Now let's talk material damages. I lost five bottles of my rarest moonshine—first batch ever, only ten in the whole world. I think 30 soul crystals per liter is fair.
Three more hours of haggling later:
Two soul crystals per liter, final offer—no more.
— Deal.
Ten soul crystals dropped into my hands.
— But my bottles were two liters each. — I clarified, pulling one out of my inventory for proof.
Another fourteen soul crystals appeared, the bottle vanished, the screen disappeared, and the barrier deactivated.
Sumire kept giving me suspicious looks at my smug face, but after a quick explanation, he stopped. Then he explained the reason for his visit.
Besides missing me, he was in trouble. That bird was supposed to return from her mission a week ago but hadn't shown up. She'd never been gone this long before—two days at most. Naturally, Sumire was worried.
— Poor guy, a whole week alone. You must be starving—let me feed you.
— Bulb-bulk.
— What do you mean you're not hungry?
— Bulb-bulk-bulk bulb.
— Oh, I see, Minako's been feeding you.
— Bulb.
— Wait, who's this Minako, and why is she feeding you?
— Bulb-bulk bulb bulb-bulk bulb-bulk.
— Got it. She's a friend of the bird who took you, and you stay with Minako when the bird's on missions.
— Bulb-bulk bulb.
— Ugh, where's the justice in that?
— So their missions always line up, and you're bouncing between them?
— Bulb-bulk bulb.
— When they're both out of the village, you stay with their mutual friend Eiko, who works here.
— Bulb.
— Sumire, I'm torn between congratulating you and smacking your smug tentacled face.
— Bulb?
— For what, you ask? I'm jealous! You've already got a harem, and I don't!
Sumire patted my shoulder with a tentacle, bubbling that I shouldn't worry—my time will come, I've got my whole life ahead of me.
It stings that my pet got a harem before me, but as Sumire said, my time will come. I've already laid the groundwork, and worst case, I've got four vials of that love potion. Sure, using a love potion might be low and immoral, but as the saying goes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. They didn't care about morals when they set traps for me, so I don't either. Besides, I'm a member of the Unknown Malicious Things race—maybe for us, it's tradition to slip a love potion instead of giving flowers and candy. Still, the potion's a last resort, and I'd need to test it on someone else first. I don't want to use it and have some girl following me around, drooling.
But I shouldn't dwell too much on the distant future. For now, I managed to snag a skill copy orb and two skill extraction orbs.
I first learned about these orbs while browsing the auction. The listing made it clear they were for extracting or copying skills, but there weren't any details. It took weeks of searching, but I finally found out more. These orbs are the key to selling skills. It's simple: you put a skill into the orb and sell it on the auction. The orbs themselves are sold there too—extraction orbs cost 10 soul crystals, while copy orbs go for 100. The price difference makes sense: an extraction orb removes the skill from the user entirely, transferring it to whoever activates the orb, then breaks. I had to curb my excitement quickly—extraction only works if it's voluntary and intentional. No stealing skills by handing someone a shiny orb. Another downside: the extracted skill resets to level 1, no matter its level at the time of extraction.
Copy orbs, as the name suggests, duplicate the skill and keep its level. Copying is also voluntary and intentional, and the orb breaks after use.
You can get these orbs from bosses—extraction orbs have a chance to drop starting at level 50, and copy orbs at level 100. At higher levels, there's a tiny chance for an orb to drop with one of the boss's skills or a random skill already inside.
When I first read this, I couldn't understand why level 1 skills on the auction only sold for 2 soul crystals more than an extraction orb, yet the orbs sold like hotcakes. Why lose a skill and sell it for so little when you could just sell the orb? I'd seen skills go for the minimum price plenty of times. Then it hit me: I'm the one who struggles to get skills—most of mine come with huge risks or in unrepeatable conditions. For others, it's different. Take Getsuga Tensho, for example: you train with a sword, master the skill, put it in an orb, and sell it. Then you spend another day training to relearn it.
I've got big plans for these orbs, though. While researching them, I came across a post about a trip to another location. The author wrote that he ended up in a fantasy world and joined a team of heroes on a quest to defeat a dark lord. But the lord's servant was too strong and took out half the party on approach. The author had a few orbs with him and convinced the dying heroes to transfer their skills to him so he could defeat the dark lord. Besides the quest reward for killing the lord, he gained several unique skills. Now he never goes anywhere without at least twenty orbs in his inventory.
I've got my own encounters with strong, dying people coming up—people I can convince to pass on their skills. Take Haku, for instance: I could offer to trade a healing potion for Zabuza in exchange for his bloodline. I'd get a new ability. Even here in the village, there are plenty of candidates. When I was looking for Gopher, I scoured the hospital—there were so many disabled shinobi, it was chilling. For a chance to regrow lost limbs, they'd probably trade something like an elemental affinity or another skill—they can always retrain it later. I currently have three High Healing Potions and four more with full healing as a secondary effect. I'm certain they can regrow limbs—I've tested it, unfortunately on myself.
After I first brewed that "God-Knows-What" and figured out how it worked, I went to the sewers. For about an hour, I shook the potion, checked its properties, and repeated—until it turned into a horribly corrosive acid that melted the vial, my hand, and a two-meter hole in the floor in a split second. I didn't care about the hole at the time. Screaming in pain, I poured a High Healing Potion on myself. It worked—my hand grew back in just half an hour. So, until I master shadow clone jutsu, I'm not touching that stuff again.
But back to our birds—or rather, Sumire's bird, who's off who-knows-where. The question is, how do I find out where she is and what happened? I'm not your typical transmigrator—I can't hear a rustle in the tree outside and deduce the observer's name, surname, birthdate, blood type, and their boss's evil plans for the next three years. I'll have to work for it, interrogating everyone who might know something, then searching for a long time after that.
With Gopher, I at least had a rough idea of where to look, but this bird is a different story. Sure, Sumire knows her name, address, and her friends' details (too well, that tentacled jerk), but no one will tell me anything—my reputation in the village isn't exactly stellar. No problem, though—I've got a spy next door. If she doesn't know, her boss definitely will. I just need to convince her to get me the info. And I've got a couple of ideas for that.
— Sumire, crawl over here—I've got an idea to find out what happened to your bird.
After briefing Sumire on my genius plan, I sent him to get ready while I waited. Yasuka stops by often, usually under the pretense that she cooked too much and brings me something to eat. I'm not afraid to eat her food—early on, I tested it for any additives, but none of the people I fed it to started shouting about becoming Hokage, and there were no other behavioral changes. So now I happily eat her delicious—and free—meals.
Today was no exception. Yasuka came over with a whole pot of stewed potatoes and meat. While I ate and praised the food, she started cleaning up as usual and, of course, checked the bathroom—where Sumire was waiting. After her scream—the signal—I waited ten seconds before going to "rescue" her.
The scene I walked into was straight out of the best tentacle hentai anime. Sumire hadn't gotten to the main event yet—he'd only wrapped her up and pinned her to the ceiling with his tentacles, stripped off some of her clothes, and was pretending to get to work with his free tentacles. That's when I showed up, told Sumire off, and he reluctantly let Yasuka go.
After she pulled herself together, she demanded:
— WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING IN YOUR BATHROOM?
— Oh, that's Sumire.
My calm response and demeanor sent her into a mild stupor. While she was still processing, I explained that Sumire used to live with a kunoichi—I described her in detail—but she disappeared, and no one knows what happened. If I knew for sure she wasn't coming back for Sumire, I could find him a new home, but until I figure it out, he's staying here.
After I finished lamenting how hard it'd be to learn anything with the village's attitude toward me, Yasuka bolted. She came back three hours later, and within an hour of her return, I knew almost everything about Owl.
The good news: Owl was alive. The bad news: on her last mission, she got hit by a Doton technique that severely damaged her spine. Now she's in the hospital, completely paralyzed from the waist down. The locals couldn't do anything—they just kept whining that Tsunade-hime, who could fix this, wasn't around.
I don't care about bone fragments—my potions can handle that. So, I just needed to wait for night, visit Owl, give her a potion, and she'd be good as new by morning.
I got to the hospital via the shadow plane, as usual. Lately, traveling there has become safer, though it's costly. It started when I noticed a shadow plane creature devour a ghost's soul crystal after killing it.
I ran experiments: I'd dive into the shadow plane, and when creatures appeared, I'd toss a couple of soul crystals in the opposite direction. While they were distracted, I'd slip away to my destination.
That worked for a while until I got ambushed. They surrounded me, pinned me with tentacles—no escape. I thought I was done for, but these nasty creatures didn't eat me like normal monsters. Instead, they demanded payment to pass through their territory—damn border guards. Now they wait for me on the shadow plane with open tentacles. I dive in, hand over five soul crystals, and go wherever I want. Good thing I used low-level rat crystals to distract them, or I'd have gone broke.
I could try sneaking through without paying, but if they catch me, the fine's ten times higher.
Finding Owl took five minutes—I know the hospital like the back of my hand. Convincing her to drink the potion was surprisingly easy. Within an hour, she was bouncing around the room, hugging me to her chest. I'm so jealous of Sumire—third size, maybe even three and a half, and it's all his. Damn it.
To Sumire's great disappointment, they haven't let Owl out of the hospital for two days now. Yeah, the locals can't figure out how she recovered—from everything. I might've overdone it with the potion; I should've used something weaker. All her ailments are gone.
Those bloodsuckers—mistakenly called medics—have drawn liters of blood from her, trying to figure out what happened. Owl's playing dumb: "I don't know, I went to bed paralyzed and woke up fully healed." I'm glad she didn't rat me out, but there's self-interest here—if I healed her once, I can do it again, and with her job, she might need it any day. That didn't stop my apartment from getting searched, though—a very careful search. Nothing was missing except one vial, and everything was left in place. Sumire was very pleased.
He told me a gorgeous girl broke into my apartment. Naturally, Sumire defended my property and detained the intruder. But while he was busy with her, others searched the place. Why'd I leave that potion vial in plain sight, even labeled, as payment for the info? It had extra effects I don't need: besides High Healing, it grants 48-hour Regeneration and Troll Aphrodisiac x10,000. Oh well, let them enjoy it.
The system's been down for three days now. It's not fatal—status doesn't work, but I don't need to check it every hour, only when I'm distributing level-up points. The shop, auction, forum, and—worst of all—barriers are also down. Not sure if all achievements and skills are working; I haven't tested most of them. Shadow plane diving and Henge still function, but testing the rest without a barrier would be too conspicuous.
I had to pause my experiments too—without the system identifying my brews, it's hard to figure out what I've made, and it's unhealthy for those around me. So, I've been focusing on restocking my moonshine.
Right now, I'm taking a break, meditating on the Hokage Monument. The view from here is stunning, especially at sunset.
My appreciation of nature's beauty was interrupted by a strange sound like fanfares and a pink glow behind me, coming from the source of the noise. Turning around, I saw HIM, slowly emerging from a glowing pink magic circle to the sound of music.
— MMMMMM!!! FINALLY FOUND YOU!!!
— MMMM!!! DARLING!!! DID YOU CALL FOR ME?
— HEPSIEL-CHAN!!!!! — I shouted joyfully, throwing myself at the slightly stunned angel's neck. — I'm so glad to see you!
SMOOCH SMOOCH.
— I've waited so long for you!
SMOOCH SMOOCH.
— Now we'll live it up! — I pulled back from the thoroughly shocked angel and turned toward the village.
— Well, Hepsi-chan, let's go—great things await us!!!
Recovering from the shock, Hepsi wiped away a tear of happiness and headed back. How wonderful that there's a world full of love and peace, where he's wanted. It's for worlds like this that he'll keep spreading love and peace to others—he's not needed here.
After Hepsi left:
— Hey, Hapsi, where're you going?
— Oh, whatever, I completed the quest anyway.
0_0…
— Oh, system, you're back—just in time! I completed the quest, so hand over the 100 levels, the harem, and whatever else was promised, quick!
! $%@! %@# on %@^#$^#%& and %&#%&$?
— What, glitching again?
Ahem.
YOU'RE not at fault, he came on his own.
— I don't get it.
The quest required you to SUMMON Hapsi.
— So, what, no 100 levels and no harem?
YEP.
Did that "yep" sound smug and spiteful, or am I imagining things?
— NO!!!!!!!!!! HEPSIEL-CHAN, COME BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!