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Chapter 50: Why don’t you just sit on my face for once!

  The grushkins scattered the moment they were outside, their stubby legs carrying them in different directions like spooked rodents. Lena, with Tabby on her hands, trudged toward the wagon first, rubbing at her wrists as she squinted against the light. Rob was right behind her.

  Anders emerged last, and the look on his face and the way he walked triumphantly suggested he had pried loose something valuable.

  Lena climbed onto the wagon, sighing as she dropped onto the seat. “That could’ve gone worse.”

  Rob pulled himself up next, shaking his head. “It could’ve gone better, too.”

  Anders swung himself onto the bench with an ease that belied his age. “That orc was useful after all, though he rumbled on and on too much. Nobody needs to hear about the philosophical approach to inclusive cross-race immigration. Remind me, how many locations do we need to check again?”

  Rob replied, “Three.”

  Anders nodded. “Good. I’d rather not waste time chasing shadows.”

  Oh you should! There was one just now who forcefully imbued me with dark magic!

  “The Barony of Luxden,” Rob recounted, ticking them off with his fingers. “Noka Merchant’s Guild Hall. And an underground auction house that I’ve forgotten the name of.”

  “Emergherd,” Lena reminded him. She then stretched her arms over her head. “So which one are we hitting first?”

  “We go to Nokia first,” Anders replied. “We’ll decide which target is best once we get a feel for the city.”

  “My friends! You wouldn’t leave without me, would you?” Ducaz strolled into view with his usual grin plastered on his face.

  Blorbo’s gaze fell to Ducaz’s side pocket. It bulged suspiciously, like it was stuffed with… something. Something dense. Something loot-shaped. But with a simple rub on the pocket, that bulge was gone.

  [NEW QUEST AVAILABLE: The Rogue’s Ledger]

  Objective: Use Appraisal to reveal Ducaz’s full status screen.

  Reward: +300% Appraisal EXP accumulation for the next 24 hours.

  Prerequisite: 22 PER (You can’t accept this quest—PER: 21)

  Failure: None.

  Accept: YES/NO

  Blorbo groaned. He had SO MANY ongoing quests already. Fine. Fine! I need that Appraisal leveled up. I can’t stand only being able to open a status screen when somebody sits on me anymore. And it’s only 1 Cabbage Point anyway.

  The old wagon squealed as Rob snapped the reins, urging the horse forward. Gravel crunched beneath the wheels, and soon enough, they were back on the road, heading straight for Nokia.

  Surely now that the wagon was in motion, Ducaz would have to find a place to sit down. And what better place was there to sit down than on Blorbo’s face!

  However, Ducaz had seated himself not on the table but on a crate beside Blorbo. His legs were spread wide, one arm propped on his knee, the other casually twirling a knife between his fingers.

  What? Why? What part of me is inferior to that crate?

  Ducaz was practically surrounded by seating opportunities. There was the sack of cabbages he had carelessly kicked aside, a wooden barrel next to him, and even a perfectly good flat table surface, yet he chose to balance himself precariously on the crate like some kind of circus act.

  JUST SIT ON ME, YOU JESTER-FINGERED CHARLATAN.

  The road hit a small dip.

  The wagon jolted.

  Ducaz flipped backwards, landed on his hands, then pushed off into a neat little spin before settling right back on his crate without ever touching Blorbo.

  Why? Why are you like this?

  I have to make this happen. I need that Level 2 Appraisal.

  He activated Adjustable Angle.

  Blorbo tilted himself ever so slightly, praying that the next bump in the road would send Ducaz tumbling onto his surface.

  A moment later, the wagon hit a rut.

  Ducaz merely lifted his legs and balanced on the very edge of the crate like a smug, overgrown cat.

  Blorbo seethed.

  He leaned in again. Let’s see how you handle another one.

  The road jostled them again.

  Ducaz did a full handstand on the crate, before flipping down and landing in the exact same spot.

  WHAT? Why don’t you just sit on my face for once!

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  Rob glanced over his shoulder. “What are you even doing?”

  “Practicing my balance,” Ducaz replied with an easy grin. “Can’t have the road throwing me off, now can I?”

  Come on… Come on!

  Blorbo tried one last desperate Adjustable Angle when a rock sent the wagon bouncing.

  Ducaz bent with the movement, spun in midair, and—

  A status table opened.

  Wait. This isn’t Ducaz.

  Atop Blorbo, completely unbothered, sat Tabby—legs spread, tail flicking lazily, licking its own butthole with the utmost indifference. Meanwhile, Ducaz had chosen, for reasons unknown, to perch himself on the very edge of the wagon’s side. One leg of his dangled, the other was bent in an acrobatic pose that seemed physically impossible to maintain for extended periods. He lounged backward, arms crossed behind his head, as if he were reclining in some invisible hammock rather than clinging to a moving vehicle.

  The system promptly notified Blorbo of the important skill:

  [Skill Identified: C-Rank Basic-Level “Feathered Perch”]

  Utilizing subtle micro-adjustments of weight and center of gravity, the user maintains perfect balance on precarious surfaces, allowing for a casual stances even on moving vehicles. May or may not be entirely for showing off.

  WHAT. HE HAS A BALANCING SKILL?! THIS MAN HAS A WHOLE DAMN SKILL JUST TO SIT LIKE A JACKASS.

  “Stop stumbling around like a dazed drunk! Why didn’t you just sit on the table?” Anders grumbled.

  “I was about to, but the cat was already there,” Ducaz said.

  Blorbo internally shrieked. MOVE, YOU PEST! YOU INCOMPETENT FURRY GREMLIN! YOU WHISKERED INTERFERENCE!

  But of course, the cat did no such thing. It simply kept licking its butthole.

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  Daniel Newwyn

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