Chương 147: Chapter 137-Chosen Anatomy

When life gives you lemons, you sell the lemons for a box, then you use that box to pull off a heist. With the heist money, you then buy a bunch more lemons. Rinse repeat. That's how you get a ton of money, or at least that's how I used to operate back in the day. That was until Kat told me that I'm an idiot and to stop buying/[Stealing] so many lemons. Gods, enough distracting myself. I need to focus. With a sigh, I look up at the door to Professor Outis's lab. Why does a literature professor need a lab?

One of the many questions that I have. The others being, why are there screams coming out of this lab, and is that a puddle of blood leaking out the bottom? Some would be dismayed and might run away, but not me. Even though I want to. With a knock, I yell over the screams of dread, "Professor Outis?! Can you hear me?!" The screams stop instantly.

"Sshh, Bartholomew. I think I heard something," she says as the sound of her footsteps gets closer and closer. Maybe I can ask another professor. Before I can run away, the door to the lab opens to reveal the horrifying, dreadful look of the Professor. She wears a lab coat that used to be white, but is now covered in all manner of stains. At the very least, her hair isn't draped down her face like a curtain this time.

"Ah, Chosen One. What can I help you with?" she asks as she pulls down her goggles.

"I… I… I was hoping I could talk to you," I say as I reel back the voice in the back of my head that's telling me I should run as far as I can.

"Oh, yes, please come in. I was going to take a break anyway," she says with a creepy chuckle.

"Do I have to?" I whisper under my breath.

"You say something?"

"No. Was just praying," I [Lie] as I take a step into the lab, avoiding the blood puddle at the door.

"Hmm. You are a very pious individual. Please sit anywhere," she gestures around her lab. As I look around, I am… not surprised. She has multiple tables with what seems to be Worgs opened up on them. Further in, there's a wall of monster corpses suspended in jars. Then there's the giant fucking spider. It's not the size of a Giant Spider. More dog-sized than anything else. Like a terrier or a chihuahua. Either way. I fucking hate it.

"Sorry to bother your autopsy? Aren't you the literature professor?" I ask in utter confusion.

"Yes, I'm also the Monster Anatomy professor, the Necromancer professor, and so many more. You don't think your professors only teach a single class every day, right?" she asks as the spider climbs onto her shoulder.

"I hadn't thought about it, but I guess I did. Wait a minute. I recognize these Worgs," I say as I see the familiar wounds from yesterday.

"Of course you would. I'm fairly certain you're one of the ones who killed them. I recommend you work on your upswing, by the way," she says as she drinks some coffee.

"The University picks up the corpses after we leave, and what's wrong with my upswing?" I ask as I accidentally lean against a goblin jar.

"Professor Stargazer gathers the corpses after class and then sends them to be processed. The University then keeps most of the parts for research, potion making, and a variety of other uses. Any excess is then sold. Helps keep costs down. Naturally, she also leaves some of the corpses behind to keep the ecosystem of the Whisperwood Forest from collapsing, but that's monitored by the Biology/Ecosystem Professor. Also, your upswing lacks power," she quickly rattles off.

"... Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me with something," I say as I slowly process the information.

"Of course. What can I help you with? Stay still, Bartholomew," Professor Outis says as the spider moves to her other shoulder.

"I recently made a mistake. I may have done the [Attribute-Skill] challenge without supervision," I say as I wipe my hand on a stray cloth.

"Oh, yes, that's dangerous. Are you okay? Were you hurt in any way?" she asks as she puts her glasses on and starts looking me over.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Barely scratched," I [Lie].

"I know you're The Chosen One, but we do require that students be under supervision when taking their [Attribute-Skill Acquisition]. It helps keep the student safe, and we can give advice if needed. After all, we have a vested interest in our students' success, and with a 75% failure rate, you need all the help you can get," she says as she spots the scar on my wrist. 75% failure rate! By the fucking Gods! That's high! Wait! Was mine doable because the [System] vastly underestimated me? That fucking asshole.

I can do a lot of things. Well, I guess it's a good thing that it underestimated me, or I wouldn't have survived or passed. Now, time to get to work. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"The truth is… I was worried," I [Lie] as I dramatically look around.

"Worried about what?" she asks Hook.

"As The Chosen One, I have to play my cards close to my chest. So close that I can't let anyone see me use any of my good [Skills] unless absolutely necessary," I [Lie].

"Like how you only used [Unbreakable] against Tyranus?" Line.

"Yes, exactly. I have a multitude of powerful and destructive [Skills] that I need to save for when I face the forces of evil and eventually the Great Evil that is to come. Which is why I was wondering if you could say that you supervised my [Attribute-Skill Acquisition]?" I [Lie] as I feign my worry.

"But that would mean that I would have to lie and forge documents," she says with only a hint of doubt.

"Professor, don't think of this as [Lying], but rather as helping me fight the forces of evil. I'm going to need every bit of help that I can get," I [Lie] as I give her a pleading look.

"Okay, but keep this between the two of us. We wouldn't want the forces of evil to catch wind of this," she says with a reassuring smile. Sinker.

"Of course. We wouldn't." As Professor Outis turns to fill out the official paperwork, I look over at the corpses.

"Any reason why you're opening these Worgs up?" I ask with idle curiosity.

"I consistently check the creatures of the various training zones for changes in the environment and/or changes in their hierarchies."

"You can tell that from their bodies?" I ask as I look over at the various organs.

"A body can tell you a lot. Take yours for instance. The number of growth rings on your horns tells me that you just turned 18 years of age about 5 or so months ago," she says as she sticks her head in a drawer. Gently, I touch the rings of my horns. Huh. That's what those are? Guess that makes sense.

"I can also tell from your height and teeth that you didn't get enough food during your developing years. In fact, from what I can tell, you were malnourished, and the food that you did eat was most likely spoiled. The scars on your hands are weathered. My guess is that you spent a lot of time digging through trash, dirt, and all manner of things with your bare hands. Your right arm is smaller than your left arm by half an inch. Commonly seen in poorly healed broken arms.

The way you constantly lean is also indicative of the pain in your stomach from a healed stab wound. There's a lot you can learn," she accurately and clinically outlines as she fills out the form. The silence of the room hangs as she writes away with her magical quill. The skittering of the spider echoes. The dripping of blood from the bodies. Every noise is amplified as I stare through the back of her head. Has to be a [Skill].

"That's a nifty [Skill] you have there. What's it called?" I ask as she hands me the paperwork.

"[Analyze]. An extremely useful [Skill] in my work. I do apologize. I tend to use it on instinct. Which does ruffle a couple of feathers. I hope that you aren't unsettled," she says with a creepy smile.

"Of course not. Did you see anything else?" I ask, worried she saw my [Stat Window] or worse.

"No. Something blocked my ability to see further. I assume it was a [Skill] of yours. Was I wrong?" Professor Outis asks with a hint of curiosity.

"It was a [Skill]. I have somewhere to be. Do excuse me," I [Lie] as I leave the lab. Leaving the lab, I gently rub the ring on my finger. Guess you weren't [Lying] Abrigon. This ring really does hide the more important things, but not everything. Guess I should be wary about talking to people with [Analyze]. I would bet my right arm, it being the smaller one, that this thing has an upper limit when it comes to warding off [Skills] like that. Can never be too careful.

Julian stares me down as a single bead of sweat forms on my head.

"Do you have any 3s?" he asks. With a sigh, I shake my head and then give a devilish smile.

"Go fish!" Julian slams the table and grabs the fishing pole. With an elegant cast, he hooks and reels in one of the cards on the top of the deck. Impressive. This game has been going on for quite some time. Hours, some might say, but I'll be damned if I'm going to lose at a card game.

"This variation of the traditional Go Fish is my bread and butter. You will not beat me. Now take your turn, My Rival!" Julian says with renewed vigor. I look at the three 5s in my hand. If he has any 5s, I win, but if he doesn't, I have to go fish. Unlike Julian, I'm terrible at fishing. That means I need to be lucky and take big swings. I [Gamble] that Julian has at least one 5 in his hand.

"Do you have any 5s?" I ask as I prepare myself for the possible blowback from [Gamble]. Julian's hand trembles as he shakes his head.

"I do." A rush of MP follows my elation. Taking the card, I place the four 5s down. With this, I've won yet another challenge from Julian.

"I think that puts us at 9-0. A valiant effort, Julian. I will be waiting for your next challenge," I say as I begin to walk away.

"As expected from my rival. I will win eventually, Chosen One," he says elegantly. Before I can get very far, a voice startles me.

"Chosen One, we need to talk," Ilota says from the shadows with a reporter's hat on.

"Nice to see you, Ilota. I'm kind of busy. Any-""It's about Ashfall. You too busy now?" he asks with a serious tone.

"I can make some time."