84 A Fresh Start
A green clearing in the lush forest. Birds chirping joyfully, as the comfortable wind gently blows by. A wonderful day with perfect temperature.
Lying besides a campfire was a man in adventurer clothing. A man known as Foo.
Having properly handled the things back at the academy (in other words; dumped it on someone else) he was now resting his tired mind.
He did not need sleep per se, but all the commotion and ruination of his beutiful plans made him just want to lie down and ignore everything. And as an responsible adult, he did just that.
After a day or so of rest, he felt in much higher spirits. It was time for adventure! The quest for the roasted dragons! Eh, wait. Maybe it was to save the world or something?
Anyway, last time, Foo did everything haphazard, and the result was... disastrous. He was basically just looking around in a new world, and BAM! he had become the section head of an academy, worshiped as a god and got the `chater` label stuck to him from all directions.
Some cases he might admit was borderline cheating, but it was totally the system's fault! If it was not, then it was someone else's.
This time he should do this properly. He should play it so properly that no-one can call him cheater. So low-key that no-one will know that he was there.
After strengthening his resolve, he then jumped up on his feet. Only to be greeted by a message:
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Congratulations!
You have successfully killed the ruler of the forest.
Your diligence in suffocating it for days have stunned the heavens!
You can claim the ownership of the forest!
...
Beware!
Without any leader, the animals in the forest will soon attack surrounding villages.
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``What the heck!? It wasn't me!``
Looking at where he had lied down, Foo could see the corpse of something similar to a beaver. It was inside a depression that looked like a bed, the bottom covered with leafs and stuff.
Foo then remembered that when he laid down some days ago, there was a comfortable scratching on his back. He was really tired from organizing his departure at the academy (finding someone to dump the matter of organizing his departure on) at that moment, and the massage was just heavenly, so he had not paid it any more thoughts.
Who would have known that there was something there? That was a huge surprise. Why did it have to lay at the best possible spot? It was almost as if begging to be squashed...
Mourning that the poor little thing had to commit suicide like that, Foo then prepared to give it a proper burial. It was totally not his fault, but he could still help out a bit.
It was just that, when Foo lifted the beaver, he found that it was ridiculously heavy. In fact, he could almost not lift it; his feet were digging themselves deep into the ground when he pulled.
Luckily it became compact enough to carry the weight before his knees were below the surface. So heavy! But it was not big at all. He could easily hold it in his arms.
Accidentally holding the corpse with the face downwards, stuff started to spill out of its stomach. It was not the usually stuff that one might expect, but wood pieces. Lots and lots of wood pieces.
It was probably a whole tree in there. Taking some further steps backwards, so that the content could empty on the floor, Foo was stunned in how much the little thing could eat.
No wonder that it was so heavy! After some more steps backwards, as it quickly made a huge pile, some more curious trinkets started to join the flood of wood. There was small orbs, herbs and even weapons. Lots of random stuff.
When the stream of items finally ceased, Foo was yet again shocked by the amount of stuff that it had inside it. By taking steps backwards, there was now a quite long string of wood laying on the ground, its height reaching his hips.
It was probably more than one tree that he had guessed earlier. Such a glutton!
Staring in awe at the beaver, he instantly realized what was up. Spatial stomach!
Somehow, this beaver had a stomach that was bigger on the inside! Probably defying physics, but Foo was just happy to have stumbled upon such a thing.
If he could turn it into a proper storage bag, he would be able to carry as much stuff as he wanted! Unfortunately, he had not seen a game-like inventory system as of yet, so he had to rely on external tools.
Noticing that something that looked like a soul was about to escape, he quickly tried to trap it. Making a cage out of holiness, similar to the skull construct, except that it was infinitely more beautifully constructed and not dependent on a physical object to affix it.
Of course, he was careful not to make the same mistake as with the angel back then. Just using it as a temporary holding place.
The reason that he held it there was that he did not know if it was vital to the function of the spatial stomach. To be safe, he kept it.
After that was done, he quickly processed the carcass and made a storage bag out of it. It may have looked simple, but its functionality was way beyond words. He had carefully ensured that it was water proof, fire proof, cut proof and durable beyond measure.
Looking at the end product, he was taken aback. It had become a cute beaver-like rucksack. If it was not for the convenience of spatial storage, Foo would never have worn it in public. And it was way too cute to make any changes to it. Who could possibly destroy something so cute?
When done with the rucksack, he quickly put the soul-like thing back into it. Using some of the techniques he had developed when fixing the angel, but making sure to not go too far this time.
After it was done, he tried to put a wooden stick inside. To his relief, it went inside although it was larger than the rucksack itself, indicating that it was still working.
Then putting his arm down the opening to remove it, he realized a problem. How would he reach it? No matter how he stretched, he could not reach the bottom.
Of course, how could just turn it upside-down, as he did earlier, but that would not work if he wanted the other stuff inside to stay inside, as one usually wanted.
Sighing in resignation as it seemed like he would have to empty it everytime he wanted to take something out, he put it horizontally on the ground, then tipping it so that the stick would come closer to the opening.
Seeing the stick, he then proceeded to pull it out. But as it was halfway out, the rucksack suddenly bit down on the stick.
"Don't steal my stick! It is mine!" came a voice from the rucksack.
Stunned, Foo looked closer at the rucksack, and noticed that it seemed alive. Its eyes that was still there followed him, and its opening was clenching the stick so hard that it might snap.
Unsure what to do, Foo then argued, "It is just a stick! There is no point in—"
"No! It is MY stick! Mine!"
Realizing that putting the soul back might have created a sentient rucksack, Foo started to curse.
``Damn it! I did not fail! I was not starting being low-key and cheat-free yet! I never said that I started before! I start from now on! Why does trouble always haunt me?!``
