FlyingPotatoes

  -Akane-

  The cshing of wooden weapons fills the training room. Each hit sends weird vibrations up my arms that make my teeth chatter. Kinda hurts, but in that good way that means you're getting stronger.

  Every ssh.

  Every hit.

  If we were using real metal swords, there'd probably be sparks flying all over the pce. Would look cool, actually.

  "Over there!!!"

  I yell as I swing hard with a right-side cut aimed at his side. My wooden sword makes that whipping sound in the air, and my arms are burning like crazy. Sweat's getting in my eyes and it stings, but blinking now would be stupid.

  But it's just a fake-out.

  Behind him is one of my small drones. It's not much bigger than my palm, with this tiny barrel thing I designed. My [Kogata Sōch skill isn't perfect yet, but the drone hovers there quietly, waiting. Got it loaded with small pebbles - not gonna kill anyone, but they'll definitely sting when they hit.

  Master Holgen just smirks. Crap. That look on his weathered face tells me he's seen right through me.

  With a move way too fast for someone his age, his right leg shoots up and kicks my wrist. The pain hits instantly as my wooden sword goes flying. Before I can even process what happened, his left hand throws his own wooden sword straight at my drone behind him. He didn't even look back! How does he DO that?

  Then he spins – so fast it's almost beautiful – and his left leg connects right with my stomach.

  Everything slows down for a second.

  The kick forces all the air out of my lungs. I feel spit flying out of my mouth, and this white-hot pain spreads from my gut outward. My feet leave the ground, and there's this weird floaty moment before I start flying backward toward the wall.

  But even with all the pain, I can't help feeling a little proud. As I'm sailing through the air, I actually manage to smile at him – probably look like a mess with spit on my face.

  It wasn't about the sword.

  Wasn't about the drone either.

  My real pn was one of my other skills all along.

  [Bakuretsu Keib

  Basically: Boom time.

  "SHIT!" Master Holgen suddenly shouts. His eyes drop to his right boot where something tiny is clinging – so small you'd miss it if you weren't looking for it.

  A tiny ant.

  Well, not a real ant. It's a drone I made the size of an ant – my tiniest creation so far. Its little mechanical legs are gripping onto his boot leather.

  I dropped it during our exchange earlier, right before his foot smashed into my stomach. Had to time it just right, and somehow I pulled it off despite everything.

  With just a thought, I trigger it.

  The explosion isn't huge – more like a pop than a bang. But it's enough to make his right foot swell up fast. You can almost see his boot getting tighter.

  Master Holgen's face twists up as he drops to one knee, grabbing his hurt foot. When he looks at me, he's clearly in pain, but there's something else there too. Maybe a tiny bit of respect? Or am I just imagining that?

  "ENOUGH! THE WINNER IS HOLGEN!"

  The magistrate calls it with that weird, empty voice they all have. The puppet-thing stands at the edge of our fighting area with its arm raised.

  No surprise who won. And it definitely wasn't me.

  I guess someone watching might think I'd won since I actually made Master Holgen kneel down for the first time in the six days I've been training. Small victory, but hey, I'll take it.

  But rules are rules, and I definitely got knocked out of the fighting area – instant loss.

  Whatever. As I'm lying on the cold stone floor, I can't help smiling anyway. My body hurts all over, but that little moment of success feels pretty damn good. I try to stay awake, but everything starts going fuzzy and dark at the edges.

  These st few days have been a total info-dump on my brain.

  History lessons about this weird dice world – with its six sides, constantly changing rules, and strange people. Economy stuff about money and markets. Survival techniques, how to work in groups, and special skills for when you're outside safe zones – like finding materials to sell or identifying valuable stuff to trade.

  And then there's combat training – hurts the most but probably the most important if I want to stay alive.

  Master Holgen is my trainer here in this underground pce they call Lower Area 1. His teaching style? Hit first, expin ter. But it works – I remember every lesson that comes with a bruise.

  I've figured out that the spawn area where I first showed up is underground too, connected directly to that b where I met Vio. The training pce is one floor up from the b but still below the surface where they have markets and other stuff. It's like a giant ant colony of tunnels and rooms, and I still get lost sometimes.

  Right now I'm lying in this tiny clinic bed. I'm awake but can't move – like, at all. My body's completely wiped out. Being stuck like this is driving me crazy.

  So while I'm waiting to be able to move again, I'm practicing my skills in my head. Just staring at the ceiling and imagining all the devices I could build.

  The skills I got are part of this "Manufacture Set" – basically defining what I can do in this world.

  Vio expined that skills and skill sets are different things. Some skills you can get by themselves, like that Purify skill she taught me on day two during survival css. That's a Tier 1 skill under "necessity skills" – basic stuff everyone needs.

  Regur skills can be learned on their own, but skills in a set only work if you have the whole set. Then there's tier levels – higher tiers are rarer, but that doesn't always mean stronger. It's more about how you use what you've got.

  Back to my own skills – I'm trying to get better at my Manufacture Set just by practicing mentally. Making drones or sentries needs three main things:

  Form.

  Purpose.

  Capabilities.

  This is how I made that tiny exploding drone earlier – something small enough to go unnoticed with the simple job of surprising an enemy with a little boom.

  The explosion was weaker than I wanted though. Guess I need to remember that size matters when designing these things. Good lesson for next time.

  (Moving my body like this actually feels pretty good. Maybe those fitness freaks back at school weren't totally full of it.)

  That thought makes me realize I've been in this world for days now. There's this little ache in my chest – homesickness, I guess? Though there wasn't a ton to miss.

  Never met my mom – she died having me. Dad took off for his new family when I was too little to really remember him. Just my grandparents were left, sending money for my tiny apartment and school stuff.

  So my only real regret is not saying goodbye to them. Grandma's probably worried sick by now, calling my phone that's sitting somewhere in another dimension. Grandpa might be checking with the school, maybe even got the police involved. And they'll never know what happened to me.

  (Whatever. I'm going to make the most of this life now. No choice but to move forward.)

  While I'm giving myself this little pep talk and imagining different mini-drones – making and destroying them in my head, trying out different shapes and uses – I hear the clinic door open and those familiar voices.

  "Looks like our little tomboy is awake."

  "Dear, it's rude to call a growing dy like that."

  I look over to see that annoying man who loves making fun of me – Master Holgen, my trainer.

  He's a retired dicer who got recruited by the magistrate to teach newbies like me how not to die immediately. According to him, he's level 136 – a number that seemed impossible at first but now is just something to aim for someday.

  He's crazy strong, but he spends most of his time working on this hidden stat called "technique" – another weird thing about this world. Depending on what skills you have, some people develop extra stats beyond the basic seven everyone gets.

  (Wonder if I'll get a hidden stat too? Maybe something for inventing or efficiency?)

  Next to him is this gorgeous woman with curves for days, skin so pale it's almost glowing, and this long gray hair flowing down her back. That's Sophie, Holgen's wife and the nurse here.

  Sophie sighs watching her husband mock me. She always looks sympathetic when he starts in on me.

  Ever since Holgen started training me, he's constantly making fun of how small I am or calling me "tomboy." It pisses me off during training, which I guess is the point – makes me try crazy moves like today's just to see that surprised look on his face.

  He teases me, but he never goes easy either – which I actually appreciate. That's just how things work here. Nobody thinks twice about a teacher beating up their student, regardless of age or gender. When death is around every corner, you train hard or you die.

  I'm just gd he takes me seriously as a fighter instead of treating me like some fragile kid.

  I never really understood how the status system worked until I felt it myself. Adding ten points to agility and four to dexterity makes me move in ways I never could before. It's like having superpowers.

  I've been pretty careful with my build: my first three status dice rolled 5, 6, and 3 – giving me 14 points that I split between agility and dexterity. The other three dice came up 5, 5, and 2, and I dumped all of those into intelligence to boost my device creation and control.

  My fighting style is all about speed and getting in close, while my drones look for openings when the enemy is distracted. Hit and run works well for someone my size, plus it lets me use my brain instead of just muscle.

  At least, that's been my approach against Master Holgen so far.

  "Hey brat!" His rough voice cuts into my thoughts. "Tomorrow's your st day. You're coming with me to kill your first monster." His face goes from teasing to dead serious in a heartbeat. "Don't get cocky just because you nded one hit today."

  He pulls a wooden stool from under the table and sits right in front of me. The stool makes this creaking noise under him that somehow makes his words feel even heavier.

  "I never did," I say back, meeting his stare. "But yeah. Thanks for the reminder."

  Sophie cps her hands lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

  "Alright, Miss Akane. You're good to go." Her voice is so different from his – warm and soothing. "Just take this energy potion before you sleep so your body will recover." She puts a small bottle on the table beside me. "Remember, before sleeping—not after, okay?"

  I look at the potion – it's this bright yellow-gold liquid that reminds me of apple juice with bubbles. It's sloshing around a bit in its gss container.

  "Got it. Thank you, Miss Sophie." I nod at her, genuinely grateful for how nice she's been since I got here.

  "Bah!" Holgen shouts, spping the bed right where my feet are. "You're all polite with my wife! Show me some respect too, will ya?"

  I grab my pillow and throw it straight at his face. It makes a soft thump sound, and he sputters like I threw water on him.

  Sophie giggles watching us act like children. Her ugh sounds nice in the quiet room.

  A few minutes ter, I carefully take the potion and put it in my bag before heading to the door. Every muscle in my body screams as I move, but no way am I showing weakness in front of him.

  As I grab the doorknob, I hear Holgen say in a much quieter voice than usual:

  "Seriously. Don't disappoint me."

  I look back at him without turning around. Our eyes meet, and there's something in his look – maybe worry? Or expectation? Whatever it is, it makes me stand a little straighter.

  "I won't," I tell him, then add with a small smile, "Hopefully."

  Before he can say anything else, I open the door and step out, closing it behind me. Tomorrow's my first real test in this world – my first monster, my first actual fight where I could die.

  Walking down the hallway to my room, I realize I'm terrified but also kind of excited. My hand automatically touches the mark on my skin – this weird symbol connecting me to this pce, to Dicera, to whatever's coming next.

  Whatever happens tomorrow, I'll deal with it. Not just as Akane Mizuki from Earth anymore, but as Akane the Dicer – maker of tiny deadly gadgets and maybe, if I'm lucky, someone who'll actually matter in this dice-obsessed world.

  FlyingPotatoes