Chương 82: BtWB Book 2 Chapter 5

By the time he'd finished with his improvements, Bob felt proud of the work he'd done in his sub-dimension. The previously thirty-by-fifty foot 'room' sitting above his vault not overly expanded in size, but certainly in its access to basic human necessities. The stairway down had cost him the most in mana, the trip ending up being a bit longer than he'd prefer due to him needing to wind the thing around his treasure room.

Still, after spending over three-quarters of his available energy, it was finished; his 'top floor' now connected to one of the uppermost 'rooms' of the mollusk habitat. Something which would allow his guests access to food and hopefully-potable water. At least, as long as monster meat wasn't poisonous or otherwise inedible. Buddy seemed to love the things, but he supposed the dietary habits of a monstrous cephalopod probably wouldn't line up with those of a human being. Or likely those of a goblin.

Bob still getting used to the whole 'entire new sets of sapient species' situation. His second project, despite requiring much less in the way of mana, actually ended up being far harder to finish up. Making the initial alcoves and 'toilets' wasn't terribly hard, but deciding how best to deal with the pending eruption of biological waste was another matter altogether. One which eventually required him to create an entirely new Skill.

So far throughout his numerous internal 'renovations', Bob had merely been expanding. Pushing outwards as he attempted to make room for first his treasure, and then his vastly expanded retinue of both monstrous minions and chattel. Space for the mussels alone having cost more than everything else combined; though, considering it was largely paid for with the consumed corpses of their siblings, he supposed he really shouldn't complain. In his current situation however, expansion wouldn't help him.

In fact, what he needed was the exact opposite; Bob requiring a Skill that would allow him to more easily manipulate or 'pinch off' sections of his inner world. To constrict portions of his personal dimension, rather than broadening them. Mostly because he didn't think his passengers would appreciate being forced to shit in their own drinking water. Given the urgency of the situation and his relatively small amount of remaining mana, Bob was basically given two choices as far as toilet location.

Him forced to either run them down through his vaults, or directly into another of the mollusk 'rooms'. It taking him all of two seconds to decide which option he'd prefer. Unfortunately, while mussels were supreme filter feeders, he didn't think their purifying abilities could safely withstand such robust testing. Or that his customers would appreciate it very much even if they could. All of this being to say that he had found himself with a problem needing a solution.

One he happily managed to find after only a few minutes spent trying to 'modify' what was currently his most-used dimensional ability. Bob being gifted the C-rank Skill 'Sub-dimensional Constriction' after only his third try at reengineering its twin; and with none of the attempts causing any life-threatening explosions! Only a few minutes later, he had successfully cordoned off one section of the mollusk habitat; there luckily being no threat of any seepage due to the space of 'nonexistence' separating both areas.

Him hoping the floor-to-ceiling carpeting of massive, monstrous bivalves still in the room could handle what was soon to come. After that, he zipped back to the main area to dissolve the final walls and announce the completion of the latrines. Unfortunately, he was forced to 'pop' back out to his physical body almost immediately afterwards; his mana having grown too low to keep the Skill active. Before he did however, he was happy to see that the 'lesser mimics' he'd left behind had already been noticed.

One even currently being held up by the same goblin that first braved entering him. While he didn't imagine that the initial reaction of the group towards his minions would be positive, Bob held out some hope that their relative harmlessness and his orders to behave would soften the people towards them. Though, to be honest, his real goals for this little experiment were a bit more… nebulous.

Any of his minions bearing the 'Gilded Teeth' Trait basically already had their paths preordained; Bob intending to spread the mussel pits within him deep and wide in order to increase mana production, and requiring a multitude of chompy boxes to eventually 'work the fields' once he'd done so. For the rest of his 'starter mimics' however, things were different. With them lacking a quick jumpstart into 'Consumption' Path Traits, Bob could afford to experiment more with the others.

To see what actions resulted in what evolutionary options in an attempt to streamline the creation of useful subordinates. With particular attention being paid towards actions which might help trigger already desired Paths. Desired Paths like the 'False Life' option he'd narrowly passed up previously. It was completely unknown when he'd next be able to interact with sapients after this party left him.

While he might hope that he could turn their opinions around, there was a better than average chance that he simply couldn't; the hate they seemed to hold for him feeling almost as innate and instinctual as that of the monsters, previously. And if this was potentially the last chance of semi-peaceful interaction, then he needed to make use of it.

Being locked in a sealed room with almost two dozen sapient creatures would have to have some effect on their evolutionary options going forward; especially if what had happened earlier with the goblin wasn't a fluke. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. There was, admittedly, a fairly decent chance that the whole lot would simply end up being killed; but it honestly wouldn't be the biggest loss in the world even if they were.

His lack of retribution for the act perhaps bettering his reputation with his guests and, frankly, freeing him up to create another batch in hopes for more bitey boys. The cost of doing so not exactly being prohibitive. For now though, it was time for him to get moving. He had a monster-infested mountain pass to traverse and greater civilization to find. That is, assuming the surrounding swarm hadn't already found it first.

"We're definitely going to die here." Kal said as the group gathered around to look at what would serve as their 'food' for the coming days; the mussel in question being easily larger than the younger man's hand and obviously of monstrous origin. Part of Davin felt he should join in with the others in 'shushing' the teen, but he honestly didn't have it in him.

Between this and the small bunch of 'lesser mimics' the insane goblin was still busying herself with, it was starting to look like the abomination had formed some kind of pseudo-Dungeon within itself. Something which – having been both a harvester and a guard earlier in life – he couldn't help but think wasn't good news for their survival chances.

"Hey, at least it's edible." He forced himself to say, realizing people were beginning to stare at him, waiting for some kind of response.

"Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it was considered a delicacy somewhere. You know how the higher-ranks get about their monster meat."

"Yeah Kal," Elra jumped in, her tone dry and more than a little sarcastic.

"What's all the bellyaching about? For the next two weeks you'll be living the high life; eating raw monster clams and shitting in stone toilets." The response got a slightly stilted laugh which, while a bit tepid, was leagues better than the former tense silence. Still, the uncomfortable nature of their situation remained. The first trip down the stairway had revealed both it and the area they occupied to be far larger than previously thought.

It being a good three-story trek that eventually exited into what appeared to be a submerged building; one whose walls, floors and ceiling were entirely covered in literally thousands of the creatures he was currently holding in his hand. The water was fresh, luckily, and the quick use of a Skill also proved it to be surprisingly clean; Alrin informing them incredulously that the system rated it better than the stream they'd used the night before the attack.

This announcement had both his previously hesitating crew and the goblins all very interested in quenching their thirst; concerns over any possibly magical contamination dismissed over the dryness of their throats. Unfortunately, his crew only had three canteens between them, which was going to make keeping everyone hydrated a bit of a chore.

It was better than the goblin's situation though, none of the creatures being in possession of anything other than the clothes on their backs and the small assortment of weapons they were still clinging to. Something which was likely to keep the things almost constantly underfoot as they traveled up and down the stairs to slake their thirst. Davin mostly hoping they didn't contaminate their sole resource with whatever they ended up trying to use as a container.

Getting a bit of liquid in them had also helped to jumpstart a number of people's systems, so when the mimic had finally melted away the walls and announced the latrines were complete, lines quickly started to form. Him reluctantly assigning one of the three units solely for goblin use, the possible alternatives seeming worse overall. Luckily, there hadn't yet been any issue with smell; and from the 'sound' of things, the drop was pretty far, meaning it was unlikely to be a worry for at least a bit.

Though the faint 'splash' that could be heard did give him some concern; Davin already planning to have Alrin do daily checks just to make sure it wouldn't be a problem. Really, the only thing left for them to do was pick a spot to set up what little bedding they had and choose sleeping shifts. The majority of the goblins had already chosen their little corner of hell to huddle in, leaving the rest of the area free for them. Well, them and the mad little creature who'd chosen to jump into to box first.

Who, he was just noticing, didn't seem to be standing where she had been previously. The pang of concern this realization filled him with feeling quite outsized considering the creature's small stature.

The mimic's eye glared at her with what seemed like unquenchable hatred, but Vru paid it no mind; keeping the creature submerged until the last bubbles rose and it was completely full. Near-palpable loathing of her existence or not, as she raised the monster back into the air, it became quite obvious that it would perform best as a canteen out of all its siblings.

Each seemed equally capable of holding water – despite all looking to be made out of some sort of loose-knit fabric – but only it possessed the needed stability; with the wild, flopping gyrations of its fellows having already near-completely drenched her from the waist down. The worst culprits being the crawlers, but the 'tongued' versions coming in as a close second.

After she tied the bag to her belt along with the others, Vru paused for a moment to stare down into the water; eyes tracing the shapes of the masses of obvious monsters as well as the doorway leading further into the abomination's domain. With every surface seeming to give off the same dim illumination, she was able to see quite far; easily noting that the hallway outside the 'room' was equally as infested.

Her unable to help but wonder what other monsters might be lurking down in the mimic's depths; the creature obviously being far more powerful than anyone could have predicted from its outer appearance. Of course, given the type of creature this 'Bob' was, it wouldn't only be monsters down there. Mimics were hoarders after all. Driven to collect treasure in order to raise their level; much like Dragons, Pack-Rats, and some of the more irritating forms of the undead.

And for a mimic to become this powerful, its hoard must be vast. The thing likely holding enough gold, silver and copper to beggar most of the larger kingdoms. Enough that not even the Regional Lord could say they'd beheld as much in their long lifetime. Which made it, Vru decided in an instant, a sight she felt quite determined to see. But not today. Today she was going to lug her living canteens back up the stairs, find a place to sleep, and pass out for a good ten to twelve hours.

After that, she'd probably make use of the new 'facilities' before trying to crack open one of the massive mussels sitting easily within reach; her hoping they tasted as buttery and sweet as the ones that used to live in the streams near her old home. They almost certainly wouldn't, but they would also almost certainly taste better than slave rations. Because everything did. The thought actually made her smile as she began to trudge her way back up the stairs.

Vru wondering if any still-living members of her family back home would laugh to hear that the old adage was true. It really was better to be in the belly of a monster than to live as a member of the Fearing Caste.