A month had passed after the fiasco against the Mimic.
In the quiet Whitecoal, Jack remained. He worked continuously. Except for when his human incarnation needed rest or food.
There was no cheat for the incarnation situation. When his human form needed rest, indeed he could shift into his specter form. He required no rest in that form.
But, when he shifted back to his human form... He was back to the 'needing-rest' condition.
Similarly, if his spectral form was injured, he could shift into the undamaged draugr form. But, when he returned back to his specter incarnation, he would still be injured.
Anyway...
Jack trained his Mystic Arts daily.
He had mastered [Vine Entanglent] almost completely now. He could conjure vines with casual precision. Binding foes. Creating montary barriers.
[Past Echo] had beco the extension of his will. He could use this spell not just as a tool for investigation. But also for combat. He could summon the echoes of faded monts. To confuse enemies' senses.
He had also picked up a new trick. [Blinding Flash]. It was a simple burst of intense, arcane light. It was effective for short-term disorienting. Nice setup for sothing nasty that followed. Simple. Useful.
His steamrune projects consud the rest of his ti. The backup Handguns were finished first. A pair of thick, demonic-looking things. Yet fitting comfortably in his human form's hands.
They didn't have the brutal power of the shotgun. But they were versatile. Similar to the shotgun, they had three modes. A single shot for accuracy. A rapid fire for powerful suppression. And an energy beam requiring no bullets but his mana.
The Hoverboard was a bigger headache. He managed to build it. The rune-etched tal board. The replaceable energy core. The exquisite rune circuits. They were all done perfectly.
It vibrated. It humd. And it actually hovered above the ground. He tried to use it. It worked. It used surprisingly little power. That was the plus point.
The downsides? It wasn't fast enough. A brisk jog could probably outpace it. And it required a ridiculous amount of balance. It was like trying to stand on a greased pig in a hurricane.
Simply running, or flying in his spectral form, was faster. And easier. And didn't make his legs ache. But at least it worked. It was a start. He could tinker more later.
The Spatial Bag project was the real problem. It was frustrating. Infuriating. Every attempt. Every carved rune. Every carefully calibrated energy flow... failed.
They wasted power. Ruined components. Worse yet, he had no idea why. The logic seed sound. The calculations seed right. But the pocket dinsion wouldn't form. It just… wouldn't.
He needed a break. He needed inspiration. Or just distraction. And Whitecoal was offering none. It was ti to leave the quiet workshop. Back to society.
He shifted. The solid mass of Jack Night dissolved. The spectral outlines of Jack Mystery coalesced. And then disappeared. Invisibility covered him.
He was again free from the limitations of flesh and bone. He floated away. Drifting out of the ruined town. Heading towards the coast. Towards Calmcoast.
...
Three days later, he arrived. Calmcoast Town looked... better than he expected. It was still scarred. So buildings remained crumpled. Like discarded toys. So piles of rubble still lingered where hos once stood.
But the main streets were cleared. People were moving. Building. Surviving.
Yet, survival still looked hard for many. More faces were hollow. Eyes were desperate. Beggars huddled in doorways. Children road the street. Scavenging. Their clothes were ragged. The sll of the sea was still there. But it was mixed with lingering scent of despair.
He drifted through the town. An unseen observer. He tried looking for familiar faces. Chloe? Dr. Crafton? The others? None.
Not among the busy, the broken, or the rebuilding crowd. He checked the docks, the makeshift town hall, the surviving tavern... No sign.
In the evening, he finally found one. One of the guards from the expedition. He was assigned to patrol duty near the docks.
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Jack waited until he was done with his job. Back to his small, damp room. Quickly asleep on a lumpy cot. Snoring softly.
Night deepened. Jack settled near the guard. He had learned a trick from his multiple conversations with Chloe.
He was able to touch the edges of a sleeping mind. To guide a dream. And to extract information without waking the target. Without alerting the target.
He activated his [Mysterious Dream]. He reached out with his dream inducing power. Gently. Slipping into the guard's subconscious.
He soon found his still formless dream. It was a jumble of fear, exhaustion, and longing. Waiting to coalesce into nightmare.
He nudged the narrative. He introduced comforting images. He made the cot a soft bed. The damp room a warm cottage. He put familiar, friendly faces in the scene.
He presented himself. Not as a spectral terror. But as a comforting, indistinct figure asking questions. The guard, lost in the fabricated warmth and safety, spoke freely. Information flowed like quiet stream.
Chloe, Dr. Crafton, and his two other students. They were gone. To the capital city. Sothing about a conference. Sothing about new archeological expedition. Leon Drake might go with them. But, the guard was not sure about that.
Amaranth and Lucca. Both disappeared abruptly. They were gone when Bishop Grey from the Church of Redemption ca to town.
Jack quickly understood. The two were avoiding trouble. The inquisition ss in Asquall Village involved them after all.
As for Uthred Payton? The injured Divine Acolyte? No one seed to know. There was just... no news.
Jack finished his subtle interrogation. He solidified the pleasant dream for the guard. Leaving him smiling in his sleep. Safe in the fabricated comfort for a little longer.
He withdrew from the dream. Job done. He drifted out. Leaving the guard to his temporary peace.
He continued his unseen exploration of the town. The suffering was palpable. A child was crying over a dropped piece of bread. An old woman was shivering despite the mild night. A man was still nursing his bandaged head. Staring blankly at the half rebuilt ruins of his ho.
Jack usually dealt with suffering by eliminating its cause. The guilty. But tonight... tonight was different. He wasn't hunting. He wasn't delivering punishnt.
He was back. Back among people. After the isolation of Whitecoal. He felt that he needed to hold a celebration. An uncharacteristic celebration. A different way of judgent.
He used [Mysterious Dream] again all over the town. Not to create nightmare. But to bring peaceful dream. To soothe. To provide brief, beautiful escapes.
The crying child dread of a feast. The old woman dread of a warm hearth and strong, helping hands. The grieving man dread of rebuilt house and of laughter returning to his street.
He delivered brief monts of peace in a world that offered too little of it. It wasn't his usual style. But it felt... right. A small, secret act of rcy from the Harbinger of Judgent.
Maybe the Shard of Mystery was having subtle effects. Or maybe leaving Whitecoal just put him in a weird mood. But he kept moving. He kept planting beautiful dreams over suffering people.
As the first hint of the dawn touched the horizon, he found a street boy. He curled up in an alleyway. Sniffling in uneasy sleep. Clutching an empty belly. Jack reached out.
The boy's dream was a cold, hungry place. Jack changed it. He filled it with warmth. With nice scents. With a future where he was strong, fed, safe. A future the boy barely dared imagine when he was awake.
The boy's sniffling was softened. It beca quiet. Then a small, peaceful sigh.
Suddenly a jolt ran through Jack's spectral form. A familiar system notification flashed. Stark against the dim reality of the alley.
[LEVEL UP!]
He could level up from giving nice dream? Well... now that he think about it. His power source was Spirit of Judgent. Judgent didn't just an delivering punishnt. It also gave reward. Nice dream was a kind of reward, wasn't it?
He checked the notification again.
[LEVEL UP!]
[AVAILABLE NEW SUPERNATURAL TRAITS] CHOOSE ONE:
[BLUDNIK'S SWAMP LABYRINTH]
[GROOTSLANG'S GEMSTONE DETECTION]
[ADZE'S FIREFLY TRANSFORMATION]
Just the nas. As usual. No descriptions, no hint of what they did. Just a na ripped from so corner of forgotten or twisted mythology.
He again had to use his internal archive. The vast, ssy collection of horror lore he had amassed in his previous life. When he was seeking out the weird, the terrifying, the obscure information... for his content.
He recalled the mories...
Bludnik. Well, it was Slavic lore. A water spirit, often malevolent, tied to swamps and lakes. It could lure people into the water to drown them.
Swamp Labyrinth implied confusion. Illusion of getting lost in the swamp? Or perhaps a localized pocket of space tied to water or dampness? Environntal control, maybe? Limited area effect?
Well, it seed useful for trapping or disorienting opponents.
Grootslang. It was African legend. A massive, serpentine creature. It lived in caves. Guarding treasures, particularly diamonds. Sotis, it was depicted as having an elephant's head.
Gemstone Detection... a straightforward na. It was likely the ability to sense, locate, or possibly even identify gemstones. Useful for finding loot? Or maybe connected to materials needed for crafting?
Perhaps... so gemstones had unique properties in this world. Sothing he wasn't aware of. And detecting them had practical applications beyond treasure hunting.
Grootslang guarded treasure, true. But its power was in its massive size and elental control related to earth or caves. Detection seed a bit mundane for such a creature. But who knew how these powers were twisted?
Adze. Another African lore. West African. It was a vampire-like being. One that could transform into a firefly. It attacked people in their sleep and sucked their blood.
The Firefly Transformation was the obvious part of the trait na. Turning into a firefly. Small. Inconspicuous. It was likely good for stealth. For reconnaissance. Although, his spectral form already did that better.
But fireflies had light. Did the transford firefly have sothing like a bioluminescent attack? Or was the transformation purely for infiltration?
Wait! Adze had a vampire-like aspect too. Did the transformation co with blood-sucking ability? Did using the transformation require... sustenance? Or was it just the transformation ability borrowed from the creature's nature?
He had three distinct options. He needed to choose one.
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