Colby went back up to his room, bringing along the partially eaten wheel of Gouda. After stuffing it into his Inventory, he entered his Core where he brought the Gouda back out, only to shove it into The Cheesetastic Fridge so that he could perform more analysis on the cheese later.

  The Core Construct was due for an upgrade, mainly storage space, but Colby was not only a great maker of cheese, he was a master procrastinator too.

  A quick cheddar-making session gave the Core Constructs a much-needed change of pace—staring at pictures of cheese growing up was starting to get old.

  His father did have a point. Not only did this method use a lot of Mana, it took a lot of time and hogged the Core Constructs.

  Unfortunately for them, this method worked. And since they were going to be occupied otherwise, might as well make the best out of them. This led to the new genius idea, which should work out—it was the least out there one so far.

  Back down below in the aging cave-cellar mix, Colby placed the bandaged wheel of cheddar on the lowest rack of a wooden shelf. Like before, everyone had to sit on the rocky ground, no matter how rough, uncomfortable or pokey it may be.

  There was a reason he didn’t want to work on perfecting the Gouda and instead chose to work on Cheddar. It would’ve made things too easy. This way, he could test whether this idea had merit or not.

  Together, they’d get to shape the Cheddar’s story.

  That was an idea that greatly roused everyone’s spirits, especially Cheese Bowl and Cheese-lander. Noodle-like limbs whipped through the air as they began discussing how the cheddar should grow up.

  And that was when the cracks in his supposed genius idea started to show.

  Everyone had different directions.

  Cheese Bowl, Cheese-lander and Curd-Cutter wanted a story full of non-stop action and explosions—a lot of explosions.

  Pottingham wanted the cheddar to be a king, where everyone would do the cheese’s bidding so that he would never have to get up from his spot.

  Temp-tation wanted a romantic comedy, seconded by Cheese Press. Though whether that was the anxiety-stricken Core Construct’s true choice or Temp-tation’s influence was anyone’s guess.

  Then there was The Fantastic Cheese Fan. He wasn’t allowed to talk.

  Lively discussion devolved into deathly arguments. Noodle-like hands rose up. If words didn’t work, then fists would.

  The decision was almost unanimous.

  Taking turns, they would attack Fan. Whoever knocked him out would get their idea chosen.

  No prizes as to who didn’t approve of this method.

  The answer was Colby.

  “Stop!” he yelled just as Cheese Bowl wound up for a punch. His noodle-like limb froze as he stared up at his master.

  “First of all, no one is allowed to hit anyone, even if they say it’s okay. Second, if this is how it’s going to be every time, then everyone will sit in silence whenever a cheese needs to be aged. Third, none of you are staying on topic. The main theme of aged Cheddar is sharpness, with some nuttiness and a hint of sweetness. Do I make myself clear?”

  The Core Constructs looked at each other, then up at Colby and finally back down to each other. Their noodle-limbs instantly shot up, pointing at Fan.

  “It’s Fan’s fault,” they all signed at the same time.

  Colby sighed.

  “Forget it. Everyone, sit down and focus on The Aging Book.”

  Begrudgingly, they did as they were told.

  That idea was a bust. If he knew this was going to happen, he would’ve spent more time thinking about how to shape the Cheddar, emphasizing its aspects in a balanced, cohesive manner.

  Maybe another farm setting?

  Colby rested his head on his head, pondering how best to shape the cheddar’s story.

  Despite being told to sit still and listen, the Core Constructs started signing out suggestions. At least they weren’t whacking Fan—who still wasn’t allowed to talk around them.

  A whirlwind of suggestions flew out, but one stood out in particular.

  Blacksmith.

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  Coincidentally, or not, that came from Curd-Cutter.

  Yes, he could work with that.

  Photographs of the Cheddar began to materialize in The Aging Book. This Cheddar was the child of a blacksmith, a single parent, whose mother had unfortunately visited the great cheese platter in the sky all too soon.

  The Cheddar spent his formative years surrounded by his father’s work, and soon the little cheese grew curious.

  Photographs of the Cheddar appeared as he forged his first nail with the help of his father. It was rough, bent, and shoddy workmanship at best, but it was his work, and that was all that mattered.

  As the Cheddar grew, so did his skills, most importantly, his love for his father. Together, they ran the local blacksmith, forging tools for everyday needs.

  Life was peaceful, honing their craft by the forge. Until one day, war broke out.

  The Cheesedom recruited blacksmiths from all over the Platter, but the father-son duo refused. Forging tools for killing wasn’t what they wanted—wasn’t what the Cheddar’s late mother would have wanted. She would never allow the perpetuation of the cycle that robbed her of time with her child.

  They continued their lives, making wares for the locals.

  That was until the Cheddar’s father started to act… different.

  One night, he left the forge on, nearly burning down the entire workshop. Another time, he had forgotten to complete an order for a regular customer, but kept insisting it had already been completed and shipped out.

  These oddities started to pile up. Strange and weird actions that rivalled the town nut—and was close to eclipsing them.

  The Cheddar sought the best doctor in the entire Cheese Platter, but medicine was expensive, and money was an issue.

  With no other choice, the Cheddar joined the war effort, producing swords for the Cheesedom. The more swords he forged, the more he earned. The finer the quality, the greater his reward.

  His father’s condition was deteriorating. He needed more medicine, better medicine. The Cheddar worked tirelessly, day and night. With every blade he forged, his skill deepened. Each sword was stronger, better, sharper than the last. His skills as a blacksmith were renowned throughout the entire Cheesedom.

  But no amount of fame or fortune could stop the inevitable.

  Soon, his father made a visit to the great cheese platter in the sky.

  The Cheddar wasn’t allowed time to grieve. His weapons were too valuable. Anguished and furious, the Cheddar threw himself into his work. If they wanted a weapon, he’d make them one. That was the birth of the Cheddar’s magnum opus, the sharpest sword in the world that could slice through anything like it was butter.

  It brought an end to the war, but the Cheddar never wanted fame or fortune; he just wanted to do what he loved—forging tools and wares for everyday use.

  He retired to the countryside and found love. Together, they had a child. But like his mother, she too had gone all too soon, taken by one of the very blades that he had forged.

  The Cheddar only knew one way to process loss, forging. Like when his father had passed, he dove into his work once more—almost neglecting his child. Thankfully, by the grace of the great Gouda in the sky, his son took up an interest in blacksmithing.

  Together, they ran the local blacksmith, forging tools and wares for the locals.

  As the days went on, the great Gouda in the sky had decided to grace the Cheddar once more. His love had came back, but she was ashamed—too ashamed to appear before the child she had never raised.

  The Cheddar didn’t care. She was back. Together, his family was whole.

  One night, his love complained it was too cold and requested to leave the forge on. But she fallen asleep by the fire and had forgotten to switch it off, nearly burning the entire workshop down. Another day, she forged and delivered a regular’s order. But the regular insisted it had never been fulfilled.

  The entire town acted like he had gone mad, especially his son.

  The Cheddar wasn’t allowed to do anything, forced to lay in bed, being fed strange and expensive concoctions to treat an illness that was never there.

  With that, Colby came to the end of The Aging Book.

  The Core Constructs were crying, another tearjerker of a story. Hopefully, one that blended in the aspects of cheddar he desired.

  Sharpness was the main focus, and the Cheddar had forged the sharpest blade that ever existed; forged from metal found in the earth, so that was that covered. There were some nutty and sweet touches included, so everything seemed to be in order.

  Though it had only been aged by six months, half of what he had managed with Gouda. Whether or not that was a sign was a problem for very-soon-in-the-future him.

  Colby placed the Cheddar into Smart Waiter and allowed it to materialize in the real world.

  After removing the bandage that protected it, Colby sampled a small piece.

  The cheese tasted like Cheddar—not the best Cheddar, but enough to be recognizable as Cheddar. However, the most glaring issue was how bitter it tasted. It wasn’t disgustingly bitter like the abomination of a Gouda, but more bittersweet, with a way too large emphasis on bitter and not enough sweet.

  Was it because of the ending to the Cheddar’s story? Was that the reason?

  Maybe.

  Taste aside, there was another aspect of the Cheddar he wanted to try out.

  Bringing the cheese back into his Core, Colby cut out a wedge of Cheddar before whittling it down into a pointed cone.

  No [Cheese Shots] this time. Just a simple materialization.

  Congratulations! [Cheese With An Edge] has reached Level 3!

  That notification was a good sign.

  Colby placed the pointed cone against his finger before pulling back. It wasn’t sharp enough to break skin yet. Foolishly, or maybe it was because of how tired he was, he pressed down on the pointed cone of cheese. Colby felt a small sting, like a dull toothpick. Again, not enough to even break skin.

  Still, the spell had definitely been improved. But right now, he cared more for taste than sharpness.

  Colby spent the rest of the day lying in bed, ruminating.

  Where did he go wrong?

  The next day, refreshed but still lost, he entered his Core.

  Maybe if he went through the process again, he’d spot the flaw in his method. ready for another go.

  The moment Colby honed in on his Core, Cheese Bowl grabbed his attention.

  “Hi, master,” he signed. “We’ve been good Core Constructs.”

  The rest nodded, including Fan.

  “Can we do our story now?” he asked.

  What were they up to?

  “Why?”

  “Because we spent all night talking about yesterday’s story. It was an okay story, master. But we thought of a way to make it even better!”

  All of the Core Constructs nodded, including Fan.

  Yup, they were up to something. But he may or may not be desperate.

  Plus, what did he have to lose?

  Other than time, Mana, and resources.