A warm, electric sensation spread through his wooden frame. Level Up.

  [LEVEL UP!]

  Blorbo has reached Level 4

  + 5 HP

  + 1 MP

  + 5 Attribute Points

  YES! YES! It happened! Finally, he was getting somewhere! He could feel the power coursing through his grain, his glorious ascent as a piece of furniture with cosmic potential!

  Time to come in and distribute my sweet, sweet new attributes.

  Eagerly, he pulled up his status screen, basking in the thrill of progress.

  Wait.

  15000 EXP?!

  The last level required 100! What is this scaling?! What kind of cruel, unjust system increases the required EXP 150 times in a single level?! Would you give me 150 times the attribute gains if I level up? Would you do that, huh, huh?

  I’ll worry about that later. Distribute my stats first.

  Blorbo felt he needed to go on the offensive. He had a sneaky feeling he would have to fight in table duels in the near future. They were going to barge into rich people’s places and demand them to hand over their precious knife collection soon, and if Bimbleton is any bit a fair representation of a snobby noble in this realm, he’d need to either hit hard or dodge hard.

  Agility and Strength, it is then.

  +3 AGI

  +2 STR

  Just as Blorbo finished distributing his stats, the door creaked open.

  Ducaz stepped in, moving with the smug satisfaction of a man who had just gotten away with something. His hands rested on his stomach, which was noticeably fuller than before. He let out a quiet sigh of contentment, stretched his arms, then flopped onto the bed in the exact same position he had been sleeping in before.

  The same arm tucked under his head, and the legs bent at the exact same angles. The same stupid, peaceful expression like he hadn’t just broken into a secret chamber to commit grand larceny on a sausage.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  ***

  The next morning, Anders said that the knives weren’t going to free themselves, so they were on their way again. But not without breakfast, of course.

  The shouting of the Innkeeper had gotten them all to get downstairs on time, with a little help from the magnificent smell of stew (the good kind and not the cabbage kind) from the kitchen. Rob had carried Blorbo downstairs in preparation, and the scent of a hearty meal filled the air as they settled at a table—an actual dining table, not him, for once. Harry Porker had prepared a steaming pot of sausage stew, with slices of fresh bread to go with it. The smell alone was enough to make the stomachs of those with stomachs rumble.

  Harry Porker growled as he ladled out portions. “Damn shame. I was missing a link of sausage from the storage this morning. Counted every piece last night, and wouldn’t you know it? One less.”

  As the innkeeper walked back into the kitchen, Ducaz spooned a bite of sausage stew into his mouth, chewed, then leaned back with a punchable grin on his face. “Mmmmmm,” he hummed, smacking his lips. “Still tastes as good as the last time I tried it.”

  Rob turned.

  Lena turned.

  Anders turned.

  Ducaz stopped chewing. “... What?”

  As the awkward silence stretched, the front door swung open, and in strolled a burly young man lugging a basket filled with fresh vegetables. He spared the party a single glance as he passed through, making his way toward the kitchen.

  “Oi, Benny!” Harry Porker called out. “Before you put that lot away, run down to the cellar and fetch some more stock, would ya?”

  “Aye.” Benny groaned but did as he was told, plopping the basket of veggies onto Blorbo.

  The injustice.

  I am not a storage space.

  But wait. Am I sensing… a cabbage head?

  His nonexistent gaze fell upon the single head of cabbage nestled among the carrots and potatoes.

  A cabbage.

  A lone, unsuspecting, perfect cabbage.

  His newly acquired skill [Consume] tingled at the back of his awareness, like a predator sniffing out its prey.

  Yes. YES. This is it. This is my moment.

  He mentally activated the skill.

  [Consume]

  For a second, nothing happened.

  Then, the cabbage sank into his surface.

  Blorbo didn’t just eat the cabbage. He absorbed it.

  Like it had never been there.

  Like he was a bottomless void.

  A chill ran through his wooden grain.

  What… what did I just do?

  [SKILL ACTIVATED: Consume (Level 1)]

  Oh. Oh. OH!

  HE COULD CONSUME. HE COULD GAIN CABBAGE POINTS AT WILL. Best of all? He didn’t even have to taste the cabbage.

  Unlimited power was on the horizon. What should he do next? Maybe he would add 100 STR points and join a table joust tournament so he could earn 50 gold coins for Rob and Lena, and in return receive Legendary improvements. That would be an excellent plan.

  A belated notification showed up.

  - 1 CP

  Wait. Minus one?

  What’s happening?

  Frantically, Blorbo pulled up his status menu. He scrolled down to his CP total, dreading what he was about to see.

  His worst fears were confirmed. His CP had been deducted by one.

  But why?

  He tapped on CP for more details, and an explanation unfolded before him:

  [Cabbage Point: Consumed when you increase stats temporarily OR when you need to eat a cabbage. Gained when you reverse-consume a Cabbage or through quest rewards.]

  WHAT.

  THAT’S WHY YOU CALLED IT CABBAGE POINT?!

  The world blurred as realization struck him like a sledgehammer to his face.

  He had been lied to.

  He thought CP was a resource to be farmed, a currency for power, a means to ascend beyond the limitations of a simple table. But no. No, the system had other plans.

  It wasn’t a reward. It was a tax.

  The cabbage wasn’t free. He had PAID one CP to eat a cabbage.

  This was the second worst revelation of his entire existence. The worst one was when he found out he was a… well, let the people finish that line for him.