personal-0004

Adam Smasher, Level 1 Adventurer, Hestia Familia

"I'm back!"

"Welcome back!"

The chant of meat greeting meat echoed in the building behind him. So that means his lone 'teammate' was back and getting caught up to speed. Adam used the term teammate loosely, because it had been years since he's had backup worth a damn. Usually it was just faster to go in alone, because halfmeats were dogshit in a scrap. Not as dogshit as allmeats, but still a long way away from the best.

That is to say, him.

He tuned out the rest of their no-doubt boring discussion and returned to his current focus. Furiously scrubbing his meat clean with cold water, and growing progressively more irritated that he didn't have a power-washer handy for this. His real body was easy to maintain, just send it to the techies and occasionally get a full spray-down treatment to get the gore off. This meat frame was a pain in his ass, and naturally produced all kinds of filth just by existing.

Simulated filth, sure, but still something he was going to murder. By scrubbing.

Dipping his hands in the water once more, splashing his torso, then furiously rubbing to dislodge any built-up muck. Then another splash of water followed by using their bar of soap to get it actually clean. Then, once dislodged and cleaned, a gentle rinse to remove the loosen filth and wash it away.

If he left it alone it would be a problem the next time he got injured. Meat was delicate, and weak to things like 'infection'. Fucking meat. Why did anyone use this shit anymore?

Finished with his body, he started scrubbing his feet and hands. Work your way from the top down, to ensure the best and most consistent clean. It was around this point that the door to the church behind him opened up, and a call from Tinytits came from it. "Adam! Are you decent?"

Decent at what? The answer was yes regardless, there wasn't a thing he was bad at. He grunted out in a non-committal manner and focused on washing his feet instead. "Bell's back, so come in when you're done okay?"

"Towel." He instead rumbled back. It wasn't so much a question as it was a command.

"Oh! Bell, where's our towel?" One towel? That's disgusting, Tinytits. Adam made a note to buy towels as the first thing.

"I got it!" The unfamiliar meat-voice called out, with shuffling and movement towards the back door.

He would know exactly where if he was in his real body. Abundant sensors letting him know where everything was for fifty meters around him, even through thinner walls. Right now, he was limited to one visual class and angle, deaf audios, deadened olfactories, and numb tactiles.

It was like being blind, but for every sense. It was hard to express how much loathing currently filled him. He couldn't wait to have acceptable targets again. He was long overdue another good manslaughter incident, and it would feel great to have gore on his frame again.

He needed something to calm down. He was getting twitches from how little he could sense about the world around him.

Fucking meat.

The door opened again, and footsteps followed. "Hey, Adam, right? I'm going to leave the towel hanging here for you okay?"

Would you just do it already, meat? He was bound to see it once he was done. What a pointless sentence. Adam grunted out again, and the door was closed, putting him in the cool dim shadows of the alley behind a church once more. Scrubbing cold into his body, only his anger kept his fingers from going numb.

Wrath was good for that, keeping the meat nice and toasty.

Finally finished with his scrubbing, he raised the rest of the water and poured it over his head in one great wave. His meat wanted to shiver, but Adam wasn't about to let it. Finally cleaned to his satisfaction, he moved over to grab the towel they had left. A plain white cloth, probably big enough to wrap completely around Tinytits, but barely large enough to get around his torso.

Good enough. He dried himself with quick and efficient patting, before putting his discarded clothing back on, and rubbing at his short blond hair while he walked back in the door.

Looking through locks that were currently getting in his eyes, he spied his new employer talking to what he guessed was his deadweight.

Well… he wouldn't weigh too much. A skinny kid that was maybe about five foot five. Adam was solidly more than a foot taller, even in his old meat.

Hearing him come in, Tinytits bounced up and waved her hands to present him. "Look Bell! He bought all my Jagamarukun and then joined on the spot!"

The infrequent but glaring use of Japanese was beginning to irk him. Choose one language or another, don't just use it randomly like this. The kid stood up and shot a hand out in excitement. "Heya! Nice to get another member so soon! I'm Bell!"

Adam stared at their enthusiasm for a moment, before grunting in reply and shaking the hand. It wasn't worth getting worked up over a contract. "Adam Smasher." Briefly, he missed the intimidating electronic growl of his real body. He returned and held the towel up.

The 'goddess' took it, immediately bouncing over to hang it near the fireplace to dry. Adam lowered himself into a cross-legged sitting position and immediately began to chomp down on his rightfully purchased hashbrowns again.

"Heh, not much of a talker huh?" Deadweight asked with a polite and mildly amused grin, reaching up to rub the back of his head as he sat back down in turn.

"Oh he's a talker alright!" Tinytits growled out good-naturedly. "He's crass and vulgar, so you need to be a good example Bell-kun, alright?"

Adam's eye twitched at the sudden suffix usage. Doing his best to murder the hashbrown with his teeth to distract him from the inconsistency that was starting to bother him immensely.

"Can do! You can count on me, my goddess!" Deadweight gave a faux salute towards Tinytits before turning back to him. "Granted, I only have one day of experience, but I'll do my best alright!"

Adam turned a baleful eye towards the kid, and considered him for a moment.

"How long have you been killing, kid?" He rumbled out a question and chomped down on another hashbrown.

"W-well, my gramps taught me how to fight, but I only entered the Dungeon yesterday…" The look was sheepish in ways that were just utterly foreign to Adam. "I managed to take down probably twenty goblins though, so I'm doing pretty good for my first day I think!"

Twenty… Adam had a kill count of twenty before he was fourteen. That was decades ago. These days his kill count was more like a six-digit number.

"So you came from outside the city right? I suppose you might have some experience fighting too?" Deadweight asked curiously, munching his own hashbrown.

Adam thought about the answer for a moment. "...Contract Mercenary, at least fif-" He considered how old he currently looked, and amended the statement. "-at least five years now."

"Wha-"

"Five years!"

Twin calls from the two meats in the room. He stared blankly as they looked at him with astonishment. Deadweight had a slightly awed look. Tinytits had furrowed brows and a worried gleam.

Deadweight leaned back and sighed with a dismayed smile. "I thought I was going to be the senpai-" Adam's hand twitched violently. "-but it turns out our new member has way more experience huh? I'll do my best to keep up then."

Adam grunted, that was about the best that he could hope for from meat, he supposed. Good work deadweight, you were being upgraded to 'burden'. You had the right kind of attitude already. He tuned out the rest of the small talk. He already had his fill for talking to meat for the day.

—

Before actually getting to the murder, there was apparently registration to do. Most of it was the same corporate slop he had stopped needing to fill out years ago, so it was a familiar and infuriating activity to go through it again.

As it turns out, they provided the form in various languages, only one of which he knew how to read. Fucking Japanese was apparently a thing here, unaltered modern lingo at that. It was possibly the stupidest shit he had ever seen, but it was also fairly convenient for him at the moment.

Yes he signs the waiver so the Guild isn't responsible for his injury, maiming, or death. Yes he fills out the document with his name, estimated age, personal details, familia, level, etc. No he doesn't want to take out a loan for 'starter equipment'. No he doesn't want a personal assistant. Yes he would like the first-floors starter pamphlet. Yes he wants to open an account and make a deposit. No he doesn't want to talk to you anymore.

At least the secretaries were easy on the eyes, nice and classical. That wasn't true for most places, what with all the ugly-ass cosmetics meatbags get these days. Yes, shiny golden skin with no hair is definitely attractive and not hideous. Get the fuck out of his field of view meatbag.

These meatbags restrained themselves to things like pointy ears, funky eyes, and big tits. More than acceptable. Except the fucking cat-ears. Ugliest goddamn thing he's ever seen.

Finally, all of that settled, he walked to the gate to see Burden excitedly talking to another one of the Guild secretaries. This one had the pointy ears and glasses on.

…Were glasses a thing in the middle ages? Adam had no idea.

"Ah! Adam! Got all the papers done? This is my guild advisor Tulle-san!" Burden excitedly chirped out.

Adam grunted. Turning an eye over to the meat for a moment. She smiled politely and bowed at the waist, speaking in greeting. "Pleased to meet you. I hope your own advisor has been thorough in helping you prepare for the first floors."

"Don't need one." Adam grunted in reply. The pointy-eared meat had an eye twitch at that.

"A-ah, They have lots of helpful tips though, are you sure?"

He knew more about murder than anyone in this city. Adam grumbled an affirmation. "Hmm-hm." Turning his gaze to the suddenly worried looking Burden, he grumbled out a question. "Ready kid?"

"I-uhh… yeah, sure!" Burden eventually got out, exchanging glances with his advisor and beginning to whisper back and forth as he walked on ahead. After reaching the doorway down, he turned and called out loudly and in the most annoyed manner he could muster up.

"Oi! Kid! Talk to your girlfriend later, we have meat to butcher!"

That lit a fire under their asses.

"S-She's not my girlfriend!"

"H-He's not my boyfriend!"

Real convincing stuff. Adam grunted as he stared, standing silently and slightly hunched at the gateway before Burden finally apologized to the girl and ran to catch up. Adam turned and started to walk down the long spiral staircase as he approached, and soon the two of them were moving downwards.

"Gah, do you have to shout that kinda stuff? Someone might get the wrong idea." Burden complained to him.

"It worked to get you moving." Adam rumbled in reply. Burden reached up to scratch at his head.

"...Yeah I guess it did. Still, don't want to inconvenience Tulle-san-" Adam's brow twitched. "With rumors like that, so please don't do it anymore."

Adam didn't bother replying. He'd do it again if the kid didn't get moving. It was already proven to be effective.

"So the first level is where I went yesterday, and it has Goblins and Kobolds. Goblins are pretty fast, and they like to lunge. I didn't fight any Kobolds, so I don't know what they're like yet." Burden spoke aloud, apparently trying to help fill in the gaps of his knowledge.

Adam didn't need any information. It was the first level in a shitty BD, it was going to be a cakewalk. However, being freely offered information while moving cost him nothing, so he took it in without complaint.

Information was Ammunition.

Speaking of. "You have guns here kid?"

"Guns?" The kid replied with a confused look on his face, answering his question. Adam growled in frustration, and asked another question.

"What about crossbows?" They have those in all these fantasy sims, right?

"Oh yeah I know what those are!" Burden chirped again. "A little expensive though, and you can only carry so many bolts down into a dungeon, so it's recommended just to use a hand-weapon and magic most of the time." Looking sheepish, Burden raised a hand. "Or so Tulle-san told me. I'm not sure myself."

What kind of idiot doesn't bring a ranged weapon just because you have limited shots? It was a ranged weapon, something like that is mandatory for any serious murderer.

Note to self, buy one as soon as possible. Right after proper armor, his skin wasn't good enough.

Eventually, they reached the first room at the bottom of the long spiral staircase, and looked to the entrance. Looking at the doorway and walls beyond, Adam questioned who exactly was keeping these torches in the hallways lit, before dismissing it as unimportant. The real question was who cared.

"Right! Ready to go?" Burden asked, a wide smile on his face.

Adam grunted, and walked barefoot into the dungeon in front of him.

—

There was honestly nothing in the world more satisfying than watching meat die in various ways. Adam never really got tired of it. Flesh torn apart in a spraying arc of gore and splendid viscera, painting both himself and his surroundings in new hot red. It wasn't a job or a hobby for him anymore.

His stolen blade raced forwards in a brutal chopping arc, ignoring the crude clawing fists that the greenskinned children tried to swing at him. His reach was far more than theirs, and his nifty stolen sword hacked off thin limbs with each cleave. Had he been in his actual body, that swing would've torn a good three of them in half. In this meat frame, he could only manage one and a half.

No, for Adam, slaughter was a lifestyle.

His fist rocketed forwards instinctively, his muscles tensed and shaking in exactly the right way, his body turning in great force-building rotations and smashing knuckles into a hook-nosed face and collapsing it inwards. The force bruised his knuckles, so he made a note to get gauntlets as his first bit of armor. Now off-balance, his midsection was open to one of their number, who attempted to leap at him.

God, it was good to get back in action.

He carried the rotation of his punch into a spinning kick, tensed heel smashing against the neck of the green midget trying to attack him and sending it spinning away until it crashed bodily into another goblin. The audible snap as his heel connected told him that the neck was most certainly broken.

He exhaled loudly, slowly pulling his leg down from where it had smashed into the midget's neck and standing on it once more. Another bruise there, they had decently tough skin.

A wide, satisfied smile was one his face as he looked at the carnage left in his wake. Seven dead goblins, and one awestruck kid.

"Woah! What was that punch and kick you did?" Burden excitedly asked as he began to cut into their tiny goblin chests with his knife. Ah, right, 'cores' or whatever. "You weren't kidding when you said you were good at this!"

Adam knelt down, and began to carve open the goblins as well. It was kinda like a repo job. Go in, kill the target, harvest stolen Arasaka chrome, extract. Well, sometimes it was rival corp chrome or military leaks, but the point was the same.

Rip open the corpse, pull out the bit.

The hot gore covering his hands was just delightful. He loved this job already, and he's barely started.

"Can you show me how you did that?" Burden chirped. Adam hummed out questioning, causing him to continue. "You know? That punch into the spinny kick you did?"

"It's called Panzerfaust." Adam idly explained, working on ripping open a ribcage. "You have to be a borg to learn it."

"...what's a borg?"

Adam paused. Then he slowly pulled his hands out of the goblin's corpse and stared at them. Red, gore covered, meat hands. His non-borg, flesh and blood hands. Standing up again, he tensed and shook his arms in just the right way again, lashing down at the goblin's corpse.

It burst like he was punching thin ice, shattering inwards and gushing with yet more gore, a tiny bluish gemstone left in the wake of his blow. His face and upper torso was sprayed in yet more viscera.

…Huh, this sim wasn't exactly accurate, was it?

"You know what, sure kid." Adam instead replied.

The kid cheered, apparently eager to learn how to kill more effectively. Adam was well acquainted with the desire.

But first, getting paid. "Come on kid, we're leaving once both our bags are full, alright?"

"Yeah! Let's bring back lots of Valis today!"

Now that's the spirit. Adam gave a half-grin as he tore open another corpse. Credit where credit was due, this part of the BD was incredibly satisfying.

Now if only he wasn't being slowed down by all this fucking meat.