The inside of the house was exactly as Table had feared. It was cramped, damp, and smelled of a combination of wet wood and stale bread that was probably worth less than four shillings. And cabbage. Cabbage! One should only have eaten this unholy abomination if they were actively seeking to sucker-punch themselves.
The walls were uneven, made of rough, untreated timber, and the floor creaked with every step the old man took. At the center of the room was a stone firepce with fmes barely strong enough to warm the space. A single iron pot hung over the fire, bubbling with a stew that Table could only assume had been simmering for days.
A young man and a woman, probably in their twenties, sat by the fires. Table couldn’t help but stare at the man’s eyes: molten gold that seemed to possess a light of its own, like an eternal fme etched into the depths of his irises. He was sure he'd never seen eyes like that in his past life.
The woman leaned her head against the man’s shoulder, sobbing miserably. Not because they were poor this time, but for another reason.
“The big viper lunged toward me.” She hiccupped as she popped a comfit into her mouth. “But the army of kitties valiantly fought against it. But then the viper… it… it… it bit Tabbycat! And Tabbycat died!”
The man jolted. “Tabbycat? Our tabby cat?”
“Our tabby cat!” she hollered, hands clutching her face. “The viper retreated… But when I, when I held Tabbycat in my hands… He was cold! He was gone, Rob! He was gonnneeeeeeeee….”
Rob didn’t move for a moment. His face contorted into a mix of concern, disbelief, and creeping suspicion.
Before he could say anything, the door creaked open. A small shadow slinked inside. A tabby cat with a light-colored butterfly pattern on the shoulders and three thin stripes along the spine. Tabby. Very alive.
He casually strolled past them and hopped onto Table, curling up like he owned the pce.
Rob watched, then looked at the woman. She was still sobbing.
“Lena,” Rob said.
She sniffled. “Yes?”
He gestured. “Tabby’s right there.”
Lena froze. Her hands slowly lowered from her tear-streaked face. Her red-rimmed eyes flicked to the cat. The very alive cat.
Tabby, meanwhile, had started licking his paw. His tail wagged, radiating sheer feline indifference.
There was a long, long pause.
Then, Lena threw herself into Rob’s chest. “Rob, it was awful,” she wailed while chewing the comfit.
Rob looked at the ceiling, fingers tapping on the floor. “Lena. Tabby is alive.”
“But in my dream, he died!” she insisted, gripping his shirt like an overzealous dramatist. “He was cold, Rob! Cold! He was gone! You don’t understand the emotional trauma I have endured! The sorrow! The bewilderment!”
Tabby sneezed and rolled onto his back.
Rob sighed. “Lena.”
Lena clutched his arm. “I need you to hold me. I need comfort. I need pampering.” She lifted her head, peeking up at him. “And pats.”
Rob stared at her. Then at Tabby. Then back at her.
Tabby, still lounging on Table, started kneading his cws into the wood.
Table internally howled in despair. FOUL CREATURE! HAVE YOU NO MERCY? DO NOT SCRATCH ME, YOU FELONIOUS FELINE!
Rob, meanwhile, accepted his fate. With a sigh, he reached up and gently patted Lena’s head.
She sniffled theatrically and melted into his chest. “Mmm. More.”
Rob patted her again.
Tabby stretched, purred contentedly, scratched Table, and went back to sleep.
Table was seething. If anyone needed pampering, it was HIM.
Not this overly dramatic woman. Not the useless cat. HIM.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: You have taken damage. Strength -1.]
Table screamed internally.
WHAT? HOW?
He had 5 HP! HEALTH. POINTS. What were the health points for if the universe was just going to deduct strength from him?
The cat—the absolute menace—stretched again, dragging its cws zily along Table’s surface before settling down with a contented sigh.
His stats beamed before his eyes:
NameTableRaceAnimated Furniture (Table)CssNoneLevel1HP5/5MP0STR0 (-1)END0AGI14PER1SkillsNone
ZERO. He had zero strength. He was now physically incapable of being strong.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Strength and Endurance Training in Progress.]
Table paused his internal wailing. What?
[STR reduced to 0. Temporary stat loss detected. If structural integrity remains intact with minimal HP loss, STR will increase upon recovery.]
Hold on. This was a thing? Losing stats was… training?
This LitRPG system was messed up and had an equally messed-up sense of humor. The system really could have led with that line, but it didn’t.
His mind raced. Does this mean if I endure this suffering, I’ll get stronger?
A fire ignited in Table’s wooden heart. No, not fire. That would be terrible for furniture. Hope. If this was a system feature, that meant there was hope. He could regain his strength. Maybe even surpass it. Maybe… he could one day become a mighty table.
He steeled himself.
Yeah, Tabby. Yeahhh. Keep scratching, boy. I do love getting mauled by a cat. Give it to me.
The cat stirred, stretched again, and—SCRATCH.
[HP: 5 → 4]
Table screamed.
Wait. NO. NO HP LOSS. I’m supposed to tank it! What kind of third-grade throwaway wood am I made from?
[Training Canceled. No stat gains achieved. STR returned, +1]
Table went silent.
The cat stretched one st time, let out a long, exaggerated yawn, and hopped off him as if he was nothing more than a common piece of furniture—which, technically, he was, but that was beside the point.
Come back. Scratch me again.
The cat did not come back.
COME BACK AND FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED, YOU LAZY FELINE.
Tabby had moved on with his life. He flicked his tail and sauntered over to Lena, who immediately scooped him up, rubbing her face against his fur.
“Ohhh, you’re so soft,” she cooed, all previous grief forgotten. “Such a strong little warrior, aren’t you? Yes, you are. Who’s the fearsome warrior who’s not afraid of any viper?”
Table seethed.
Out of nowhere, the old man cpped his hands together. “Alright, time for dinner.” Table, with his garbage senses, could not even tell when the man entered the room.
[Stealth Detection Failed. PER is too low.]
What even is PER? He’d been thrown into this world with no expnation of the stats. Where is DEX? Where is INT? Where were the common stats in the common games he’d pyed before?
A sense of impending doom washed over Table. No. No, no, no. Surely, they wouldn’t—
“Let’s break in the new table, then.”
They would.
Rob and Lena shuffled around to gather ptes, bowls, and a heavy-looking pot from the firepce. The old man pced a firm, calloused hand on Table’s surface and gave him a gentle pat. “Solid thing. Should st us years.”
LAST ME YEARS? I’M GOING TO DIE IN MINUTES!
Then the first pte nded. Then another. Then a heavy ceramic mug. Then the pot, filled with steaming, sloshing stew that smelled vaguely of cabbage. Cabbage!
Hot! Hot! Hot!
Table’s body groaned under the weight. He felt like his skin was melting under the cabbage-scented heat of the bottom of the pot.
Do not. Do not!
[Strength and Endurance Training Initiated. Hold Steady.]
Hold steady? HOLD STEADY?! WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?
More weight pressed down as the family took their seats and rested their elbows on him. Lena idly tapped her hand against his wood as Rob set up the cutleries. Tabby leaped back onto the table finally, but instead of scratching, he simply curled up and purred.
So hot… I’m being dropped in va… Lava is better than this! At least I would’ve died instantly.
[+1 Endurance]
Wait. Wait, that actually worked?
The realization dawned on him. This is how training works in this world. The more stress he endured with minimal HP loss, the stronger he would become. Pain is gain.
Finally, something makes sense.
He focused. The stew sloshed. Lena leaned too hard on one side, making one of his legs creak. But he endured.
[+1 Endurance]
[+ 1 Strength]
A strange feeling bubbled up within him. Pride? Triumph?
Determination. Sheer, sweltering determination.
This is not where I belong. He was not to be some lowly table destined to spend his existence supporting bowls of bnd cabbage stew in a house that was ready to fall on him at any given moment. No. He must rise to the top, not just of this household, but of the town, of the world. If this was the form he had been cursed with, then he would make it legendary.
No other option. To stagnate was to rot, and he was not about to let himself become firewood. He shall grow. He shall endure. This wasn’t the life he’d asked for, but he would py the hand he’d been dealt. He would become the strongest, sturdiest, most unbreakable table in history.
After dinner, Table felt… different. Jacked. Shredded. Enduring the weight of ptes, bowls, and elbows leaning on him had fundamentally changed his very essence, lifting him to the stature of elites.
The ringing in his head, which he had grown rather accustomed to, appeared, followed by a translucent screen.
[Status Updated.]
NameTableRaceAnimated Furniture (Table)CssNoneLevel1EXP2/10HP5/5MP0STR2 (+1)END2 (+2)AGI14PER1SkillsNoneFinally. Growth. He was no longer just a mere table. He was now a slightly less mere table.
There was even an experience tab now. He hadn’t a clue when it showed up, but it was nice being able to track his leveling up progress. He did not know what STR and END meant yet, but he assumed the usual: Strength would affect his carry weight, while Endurance would allow him to carry that weight for longer.
Did this mean if he kept getting used, he would get even stronger?
Use me more! Abuse me! Let me become the mightiest piece of furniture in existence!
Lena yawned and stretched like a cat. “That was a good meal. Please, more cabbage tomorrow.”
Rob rubbed his stomach. “Mmm. This thing’s creaky, and not in a good way. Maybe I’ll reinforce the table’s legs tomorrow.”
Reinforce?
Table buzzed with excitement.
Yes. Reinforce me. Make me indestructible. Upgrade me until I become the most glorious centerpiece this world has ever seen!
Little did he know, they had just meant adding a couple of wooden pegs to keep his legs from wobbling.
[MAX HP 5->6]
NameTableRaceAnimated Furniture (Table)CssNoneLevel1EXP2/10HP6/6MP0STR2END2AGI14PER1SkillsNone
