Chapter 58

  The Victim Magnet

  Ken stepped out of the small dark cave, breathing deep.

  The midday sun and fresh air helped to fuel his spinning gears.

  “This will definitely draw other beasts in, now that the thieving bear is gone…”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the ominous opening into the mountain.

  “Got myself a honeypot. Nice.”

  Ken worked his way down to the tree line, circling the mountain base from the shadows.

  Listening, he quietly mapped the area, until finding a concealed spot with decent sight lines.

  Then he hurried up and waited, sweat beading.

  Never.

  Stop.

  Cycling.

  Twisting ropes of unending motion surged through his body.

  His chi was relentless.

  His body..

  Not so much.

  Teeth creaked as his jaw clenched, pathways burning like hot wire.

  Just... be better, damnit.

  A broken gasp forced its way out of his lungs.

  I do have to find my limit

  He let off the pedal… barely.

  “Now my channels are only yelling at me, perfect.”

  Head swiveled, as he took a deep quivering breath, settling back against a tree trunk.

  “Sitting here, playing with my chi, peering from the bushes… Waiting to kill something.”

  The scrrtt, scrrtt of him scratching at his stubbly chin cut through the natural insect and birdsong.

  “This is kind of fucked up. I’m going to end up in a documentary or something..”

  The constant stinging pain from the repeated flow of Momentum kept a ticking time, as the sun shifted above.

  “So I'm just going to sit here, doing nothing, like some jackass? What if nothing ever comes?”

  He stood up, looking around, pacing quietly back and forth.

  With a sigh, he doubled down.

  “Oh well, just keep cultivating, I’m sure something will be through anytime now…”

  He could hear Jimmy in the back of his head.

  “Sunk–cost fallacy be damned.”

  Eventually, his patience paid off.

  At first, he felt something, eyebrows perking up.

  A rapid, rhythmic, clicking vibration across the rocks.

  He looked to the east, scanning, until he saw a moving rock.

  No.. Not a rock..

  What the–

  “Ahh, Hell.”

  Four, dark gray, oddly scuttling shapes the size of small four wheelers.

  “Kim would lose her shit…”

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  Their shells were thick, chitinous, and built like armor.

  Rough, gray exoskeletons blended in with the rocky ground.

  They moved disturbingly quick, eight legs constantly churning, kicking up a cloud of dust.

  The tremor through the stone built with their approach, matching his rumbling internal flow.

  New enemy.

  I’ll call them Rock Spiders.

  My Naming Stuff stat must be off the chain.

  No cap.

  He launched from the shadows, hitting the ground in a crouch directly in front of the four abominations.

  They scattered into a clicking semicircle, pausing, black orbs shining.

  Heavy legs waved in front of their clicking mandibles, testing the air.

  Ken cracked his knuckles, grinning with excitement.

  Let’s see what this new body can do.

  They attacked simultaneously.

  Oh, fu–

  Their closing speed was shocking.

  Ken stepped left, throwing a straight kick into its horror of a face, the steel toe cracking its carapace.

  The spider stumbled, and shrieked, reorienting its body and unleashing a spray of dark verdant venom.

  Ken was forced to jump backward, the corrosive wave turning the air to steam.

  A single drop hit his boot.

  It hissed, acrid smoke curling.

  The acrid scent didn't just burn his nostrils, it felt like it was eating the air itself.

  Leaving a haze that made his lungs sting.

  Do not let that shit hit you.

  A spider launched itself through the air.

  Ken ducked, grabbing one of its many legs, and slammed it against the rock.

  CRACK.

  The sound echoed, carapace shrapnel flying.

  Ken was suddenly driven painfully to his knees, bones creaking, as thick chitin legs slammed down into his shoulders and back.

  Spinning out from underneath, a backfist cracked it, sending it tumbling.

  His head snapped up, grabbing a snapshot from a nightmare.

  A Giant Rock Spider, flying unbelievably through the air.

  Six inch fangs, two feet from his face.

  His newly rebuilt body barely contained the forces as his fist screamed through the air.

  Uppercut, directly into the soft, pulsating underbelly.

  It launched into the air, legs curling, raining a stinging mess.

  Ken whirled, spinning off the goo, his boot came down on the face of the approaching, cracked spider, once again.

  It crumpled with a satisfying crunch.

  SHIT–

  He dove, a green viscous jet flying just over his back.

  Rolling out of his dive, he came back to his feet, hissing clouds of smoke behind.

  The last spider swung to orient on him, movement sluggish from cracked legs.

  Ken’s legs and chi pumped, as he closed the distance.

  A thick acid jet hissed through the air, trying to track him.

  Either the damage or extreme speed prevailed, as he reached its side and wound up.

  Right leg swung, a blinding pendulum.

  He attempted an all-out field goal.

  SPLAT, against a tree trunk.

  “Oooh, hit the uprights… Knew I could have played for the Browns," he snapped his fingers.

  Ken stood amidst the four defeated creatures, breathing hard.

  “Those shells were tough, and they were faster than I thought..”

  He glanced at the scorched, and still smoking vegetation.

  “If they all had just started spitting acid..”

  He shivered, sweating from the exertion in the afternoon heat.

  He closed his eyes, feeling the chi.

  Dense with toughness… and… hints of.. acceleration?

  While not as tough as the bear, the carapace felt different.

  It's not just dense.. It was manufactured.

  Tiny, microscopic strands of chi crossed over one another in a honeycomb lattice that distributed the impact of his strikes across the entire weave.

  Like carbon fiber, or something.

  The complex structure of chi moved quickly.

  While the Beasts weren't all that fast, that moment between stillness and going their max speed was nearly instant.

  “Something to do with how they arrange it..?”

  He muttered, eyelids flickering, trying desperately to grasp any insights with his tired mind.

  It was fleeting, but he forcibly dragged his understanding forwards, as the last of the cloud poured in with an inaudible snap.

  It's a game of inches.

  Eyes snapped open, looking around him.

  Caught the first bugs in my web..

  Then the thought hit, like a 300 pound spider,

  “How do these dumbass Beasts find treasures?”

  He kicked at a dead carcass, ignoring the sharp throb from his toe.

  Chin hit his fist with a resounding smack, brow furrowed in thought.

  “I can't sense shit.”