Tutorial Day 20

  The rented container sat on the table next to me as I tried to understand the notes in my journal on Rock Lavender. They were, by and large, very derogatory toward the plant.

  Each and every entry I transcribed had claimed that they were useless in Potion and Pill making—useless in venom crafting—and only good if you personally wanted to ingest something that might kill you.

  Essentially, they were poisonous.

  The confusion on my part, had nothing to do with the consensus reached by others. No, I couldn’t understand why the System would want me to collect twenty perfect Fruits from a toxic plant. It was possible that the problem was just the rank of the plant—but surely there were other plants out there in the low E-Ranks, right?

  Immediately upon this realization, I lamented my loss of Smegma. I had a feeling he’d know something about this. That was quickly followed up by a prayer, that the Demon was still alive—umm, incorporeal and around, when I returned? I amended.

  Still, something felt off about the Tutorial asking me to collect the Fruit of a poisonous plant. That, and the Harvesting or Gardening Skill indication that it should be sectioned off lead me to one conclusion.

  Parts of the plant were toxic, while others might be poisonous, and others still could be useful. The question I had to answer was, which was which? Luckily, I’d gotten a Skill that might help with that. I assumed it would take a while for it to reach a usefully-high enough level to show me E-Rank materials, but maybe…

  Sadly, the container on the table would likely be useless for a long while. I should’ve checked my notes before I used last night's Qi on it. Thankfully, this morning I’d done another batch of the Powdered Witch Hazel. The Moon Stalk sold last night sometime—which just reaffirmed something I already somewhat knew.

  This building never slept.

  Theoretically, if I stuck to Witch Hazel, and Moon Stalk I’d be out of debt later today. With what I had on hand, I might even stockpile the ten thousand points needed for Room and Board next month. However, what then?

  My Mental Fortitude ‘helpfully’ pointed out my dwindling stock. It showed me, quite pointedly, that I was avoiding going out of Town. Knowing that I was avoiding it, didn’t help.

  My eyes tracked over to the drawer I’d recently placed my container in, only to find two raccoon-like eyes glaring at me. I would have been worried if I didn’t somewhat recognize their owner. It was the girl I’d seen late at night. Or, rather—a ghoulish and very tired version of her.

  Since I had my hood pulled, I was beyond surprised when she began stomping in my direction. On her arrival she pointed to my mostly empty plate.

  “You done eating?”

  Her tone wasn’t angry, but it was certainly frustrated—which I wasn’t sure I understood. Hedging my bet, I answered. “I wanted seconds…”

  “Get a plate and let’s go somewhere to chat-T,” her ending T, was so pronounced I heard it twice.

  Maybe she was… angry?

  Normally, I would avoid going with someone in whatever state this woman was in, especially after the Morgan Hallsbrad situation. Yet, she couldn’t hurt me physically in town, right? Plus, she’d helped me two nights ago.

  Very minor help… but still.

  Standing up, I continued to deliberate as I gathered a second plate of food. I hadn’t, to date, taken a plate or food out of the ‘classrooms’, but figured I’d give it a go now. In fact, this could help me in the future. Eating with my hood up wasn’t comfortable.

  In the end I decided to go chat with her. I needed some information about this place anyway…

  The girl led the way out of the classroom and then up a flight of stairs and another, before exiting the stairwell and heading to a door that looked a lot like my own, but grander. She touched the handle, and the door swung open.

  My uneasiness at going somewhere alone returned when I realized that this might be her bedroom. When I froze in the hallway, she returned to the door, before it could close and gave me a suspicious look.

  “You waiting for an invite?” She asked, after the silence of her holding the door got a bit awkward.

  “Umm,” I eloquently responded with a blush.

  “Oh come on. I’m sure you’re good looking enough, but I’m not inviting you into my room to bed you!” She exclaimed with a laugh that made my heart shrivel in my chest. Sure, there had been a compliment in there, but the derision and laughter that followed felt a bit emasculating.

  Smegma would probably never have let me live something like this down. Dave either for that matter. With that thought, I strode through the door and into what was definitely not a bedroom, but a lavish sitting room.

  My mouth fell open, and I stared first at her ‘living area’, complete with a coffee table, leather recliner, sofa and loveseat. Then my gaze turned to her fireplace, but more specifically—what was hanging above it. It was a very well polished Sword and Shield.

  To the right of the fireplace was a set of exquisite leather armor, so black it almost seemed to suck in the light from the numerous Sunstones that hung from a chandelier and wall sconces.

  Next, my eyes passed over a Pill Cauldron, shoved into a corner. The thing was stunning, but covered in a thick layer of dust. It was, to my Demonic Vault bought Pill Cauldron, what Spaam was to Pork Tenderloin. Sitting beside it and the fireplace were stacks of firewood that looked identical.

  Blinking, I took my eyes off the Cauldron, forcing myself to move on and not act suspicious. Yet, as I scanned the rest of the room, I considered what I saw further. Either regular trees were the source of fuel to use for a pill cauldron, or this woman wasn’t doing it right. With the layer of dust on the Cauldron I was leaning toward the latter.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  As I turned back around I discovered that the girl I’d seen at breakfast was no longer in the room. In her place was a woman. Sure, she was still on the younger side–somewhere between twenty and thirty–but calling her anything other than a woman was doing her a disservice.

  She had bright red hair that almost looked like it was aflame. Her body was a collection of curves that would leave most men drooling, and this lady carried herself like she was a queen in her domain.

  “Ahh,” I stuttered looking around for the girl who’d invited me in. Was this her mother? They looked somewhat similar…

  The woman put back on a necklace, and before my very eyes, turned back into the girl. It felt like watching a sunset as it finished. I blinked at the dull illusion of the woman. She smiled and took the necklace back off.

  “Sit down anywhere,” the woman stated. “Can I get you a coffee or beverage to go with your breakfast?” My eyes must have lit up when she said coffee cause she chuckled. “You really are as new as I’d discovered. It isn’t real coffee but an Alchemical recreation.”

  “Does it taste the same?” I asked, my mouth salivating at the thought of getting a sip of the beverage. “Also why would you wear that?” I motioned at the necklace.

  With a shrug she said, “I’m watched everywhere I go in here. As for the Alchemical Coffee? It isn’t perfect, but it’s getting close.”

  She then sauntered over to a kitchenette I had yet to see. Despite her clear attempt to be seductive I watched her with narrow eyes. Who was keeping tabs on her? Then again, I still had my hood up. So…

  I returned to studying the kitchenette. It contained an island with a polished rock counter, open-shelved cupboards with numerous clay cups—clearly all of different makes, and even a sink.

  My first reaction was to ask her about the running water and if that meant there were real showers somewhere in this Tutorial, but thinking it rude, I instead said, “My name’s Brodie, what’s yours?”

  “Using your real name? Has no one explained to you the dangers in that,” she answered while pulling down cups. “I’m Veronique.”

  “Dangers?” I asked, and then unable to continue to hold in my previous questions I blurted. “If you have running water, does that mean there are showers in this place? And who’s watching you?”

  Veronique chuckled even as she reached under her island and pulled out a large round-bottomed flask, a bunsen burner and a metal contraption that was clearly meant to hold the former. As she moved over to an ornate side table, she answered. “Yes, rooms on the second floor here do have showers. But they cost quite a bit more. I can let you use mine if our dealings today go well. As for the dangers of a real name and who’s watching me—”

  She took the top off the table, which I now realized was a large black barrel with golden bands and inlay. She continued talking even as she dipped the round-bottomed flask into the barrel and came back out with a liquid black enough that it might have been cold brew. “—who is entirely theoretical. The problem with the real name is less so. First, there’s the Leaderboard that gets sent out four times a ‘year.’ Then there’s the simple fact that I wouldn’t want someone to connect me with Veronique, if I ever made it out of here.”

  “Wouldn’t it be impossible for me to get onto a Leaderboard, with how long people have been here? As for the once you get out of here–Why wouldn’t you want that?” I asked, even as she lit the bunsen burner with a match, despite not hooking it up to a fire.

  Veronique was mostly distracted as we chatted, but at my question, she gave me a pitying look that I wasn’t used to seeing.

  “There’s more than one reason I don’t leave the Town anymore, kid,” she responded. “And who knows what opportunities you might discover in the Tutorial. Joining the top hundred isn’t unheard of…” Once the flat-bottomed flask was balanced above the flame she moved over to indicate her living area again. “Come now, sit down. I don’t bite.”

  Only when she said it, did I realize I was still standing as I watched her move about the room, a plate of food held awkwardly in one hand, hood still pulled up. Her warning about the real name, paired with my desire to hide, and sent chills down my spine. I didn’t want the attention of a small group of four ‘noobz.’ So, if I hit the Leaderboard–I’d be in big trouble.

  I hurried to sit down and availed myself of the coffee table to place my plate. I left the hood up, and even pulled it down to deepen the shadow in the well lit room.

  Then, I asked the obvious question her last response garnered, “Was it just the Leaderboard that made you a target?”

  “No,” she said with a chuckle.

  “What did you do?” I asked, shocked by her candidness.

  “To Maelstrom? Not much, which is likely why he tolerates me. To the other Tribes? Well, I’d hope to hell I don’t make it out of here just to run into one of them.” The way she kept dodging the true root question made me realize I wasn’t going to get a straight answer.

  Instead, I asked, “Do you know of a way out of here?”

  “Husk no,” Veronique answered with a scoffing chuckle. “If I did, do you think I’d still be here heating up fake coffee?”

  Almost as soon as the black liquid started to bubble, she pulled off the flask—without using gloves, mind you, and poured the liquid into two cups. Then, she came and sat down on the love seat, since I was in the chair. She slid the more full of the two cups over to me and smiled.

  The clear message was that she wanted me to try it and tell her what I thought. I lifted the clay mug and tested my hands on the sides of it. It didn’t feel hot and she hadn’t let the mixture come to a true boil. Plus, she had pulled off the flask with her bare hands. Still, I took a test sip to find the concoction was just above warm.

  The test sip didn’t carry much taste and so I took a larger one. The initial flavor when the liquid hit my tongue was nearly identical to coffee, though thrown off a bit by the lack of heat. Still, it held that hit of acidity and sweetness I had come to associate with the drink.

  Then I swallowed and felt myself grow disappointed. It was missing more than just heat. The bitterness and nuttiness I liked in a good coffee was absent. The aftertaste was distinctly plain—almost like I had just swallowed flavored water. It was such a pale imitation of the aftertaste of coffee that it mocked it.

  Veronique smiled sadly when she saw the change in my face. “I know,” she said. “It’s really not perfect. It’s really just a strong, fermented tea, but it’s better than when I started.”

  “Why is it only warm?” I asked, pointing out the first flaw, which seemed easily fixable.

  “When it boils, it burns the tannins. Makes it taste too much of iron, like blood. Throws off the whole mixture.” Despite my disappointment in the taste, I went back for a second sip and saw her smile. “As I said, it’s closer than when I started. Now, mind if I get down to business?”

  “Sure, I’m still a bit thrown for why I’m up here,” I answered and motioned around myself at the extravagant space. “And why you told me all that…”

  I took a piece of the crispy meat that was likely meant to imitate bacon. The taste of the meat did make it feel more like I was having coffee at home around the breakfast table.

  “It took me a while to realize it was you who was putting up the Finely Ground Powders. I just hadn’t considered it being a newbie.” She motioned at me and continued, “The hood didn’t help you there…”

  She shook her head, silently scolding me for the choice. I blushed furiously and pulled the hood down sheepishly.

  “Wow, you are good looking,” she exclaimed. then winked. Her eyes then went from playful to deathly serious as she turned on me with a suspicious scrutiny, that froze me in place. “Did someone lend you an old enchanted Mortar and Pestle or something?”

  Frowning, I allowed my blood to slowly warm me up before I took another bite, choosing not to answer. I figured I might get more information by letting her continue to speculate, and I was right.

  “Did you truly start with enough Tutorial Points to buy one? Or just get lucky with a random purchase? No,” she hummed. “That seems too unlikely. Someone would have had to have told you, and people I work with are tight-lipped. Well, regardless—you’ve found yourself in a very advantageous position,” she finished.

  My head was spinning with questions but I chose to only ask a single one. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’ve discovered what processed materials can really sell for,” Veronique responded with a self deprecating smile. “Welcome to the game.” She finished and winked at me.

  “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you were looking for me,” I stated.

  “Doesn’t it though? Think about it kid,” she responded.

  Her words made me stop and think. I’d been playing a part to try to get more information, and now she was calling me out. Politely as well, so I figured I should at least consider what she was saying.

  “You don’t want others to see the difference in Material cost?” I responded. “I’m putting F-Rank herbs in the E-Rank section, and that could ruin the secret!” I amended—then continued. “You have a bit of a monopoly on that market.”

  “Bingo!” She said, taking a sip of her own ‘coffee’ and then frowning at it. “Anyone in on this little secret, sells directly to me. I then hold an auction for the really rare stuff once a month. Anything else, like the Finely Powdered Witch Hazel, people come to me and buy in bulk.”

  “Okay, what’s the benefit in that, though?” I asked, confused as to the logistics of an operation like this.

  “I give you the same amount as the Building would, but I give you a credit for the Auction, in the amount of the Taxes. The monthly Auction sells things you can’t get in the Store. You don’t have to worry about sudden competition flooding the market, and making something you created worth less. I’ll always purchase anything you’ve used your Qi and the Enchanted Mortar and Pestle to create. Finally, I’ll give you a single time interest-free loan up to a hundred thousand Tp.”

  My eyes narrowed. Talk about too good to be true. Eventually I ventured, “That’s it?”

  Veronique’s laugh was musical. “Kid,” she said between gasping guffaws. “You just got here. I’m always open for a renegotiation later, but you ain’t putting anything in my auctions now—so, take it or I’ll just make sure every time you visit the classroom drawers, one of the others pulls out your materials immediately.”

  One of the others? Well, it did make sense that there were more people involved in this operation. Maybe not even involved but selling and buying from Veronique…

  “What if I just start telling other Alchemists and groups about this,” I asked hesitantly.

  Veronique never lost her smile, but the room seemed to grow chilly, as she responded. “Then you better not leave the Town, too.”