The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) by Craig Kobayashi (ereader android TXT) 📕

he affirmed his choice to open it and a grid space appeared on the panel to his left. The panel was a mostly empty grid of empty squares with two items at the top left, which was disappointing but hardly surprising. He closed the Items panel with a dismissive thought and moved on to the second option, Profile.

When the new panel to the right of his MENU opened, Garath was shocked to see a holographic, 3D rendering of himself displayed between statistics on the left and the ten available “Raiment Slots” on the right. Even though the holographic rendering was obviously him (it was even wearing the same worn jeans and his favorite t-shirt - a faded red shirt with a cartoon depiction of an octopus that read, “8 arms, 3 hearts, who wants a hug?”) he couldn’t help noticing a few changes from his typical vestige. For one, the 3D representation of the Necrologist wore a tall, black and pointed hat. The little representation of Garath also held a black and gnarled wooden staff in one hand. Most notably, his eyes seemed missing entirely below his brow - a neon green glow replacing them. He blinked a few times in quick succession, as if somehow he would be able to feel the glowing.

‘Where's my staff?’ he thought, looking down at his own, empty right hand. Another prompt appeared in answer to his internal complaining.

To equip an Item say or think, ‘Equip (Item name)’.

‘Equip staff,’he thought. Nothing happened.

He closed the Profile partition of his MENU and opened the Items panel again, this time focusing on each of the two items in turn. The staff, represented by a simple icon of a stick, was named Novice Necrologist Staff. The hat, also denoted by a small icon in the rough shape of a hat, was similarly named: Novice Necrologist Cap. He closed the panels and tried again.

“Equip Novice Necrologist Staff,” he said aloud.

The black, wooden staff appeared in his hand. He wondered if the staff had any abilities or information and looked at it more closely. A text appeared, more in his mind than physically in front of him like the prompts had been, but it had the same elaborate font and he was able to read the words effortlessly even in the dark.

Novice Necrologist Staff

DPS (damage per second): 0.941

Attack Damage: 1-3

Attack Speed: 2.125

Durability: 16/20

Item Score: 2

Two-handed weapon

Type: Staff

Quality: Poor

Rarity: Common

Spell Targeting Assistance: Basic

***This useless, large stick is a training weapon for novice Necrologists.

Item Requirements:

Level: 1

Garath tried not to scoff. He wasn't expecting a legendary item to start the game by any means, but as far as he could tell the starting weapon didn't provide him anything more than a large stick would - except maybe whatever Spell Targeting Assistance meant. The damn thing didn’t even come with full durability!

‘Equip Novice Necrologist Cap,’ he thought the words this time - being able to equip or unequip items simply by thinking it would be clutch. At least it would if it worked as he hoped it would.

Immediately, he felt the brim sitting atop his cranium and lifted one hand to touch it. The tightly woven cloth was soft with age and he clearly felt at least two patches that must have been covering holes in the material. He pulled it off his head and held it out in front of him with both hands for further inspection.

‘A useless stick and the sorting hat?’ he thought as he looked at the oversized, black wizard cap. ‘Why couldn’t I just have access to some system provided shop with ridiculous items or start in some overly dangerous high-level area, luck my way out of it, and get stupid bonuses that make everything else easy?’

He closed the Profile panel and excitedly looked to the 'Skills’ option that had appeared in glowing text on his MENU panels after choosing a Class, but a panicked knocking on his door shook brand new Necrologist from the exploration of this new system.

Chapter 2

Company

Garath leaned his useless staff against the kitchen counter and it shimmered into nothing as he approached his front door. He cautiously peeked through the peephole. A handful of anxious neighbors were waiting outside with panic plastered faces and very game-like nameplates affixed above their heads. Each displaying the name, level, HP, and Mana of one of his nervous neighbors.

‘I really wish I wasn't this stoned…’ he thought with chagrin.

After a moment of deliberation, the introverted Necrologist decided to let them in. It wasn't that he disliked his neighbors, it wasn't even that he didn't welcome the company – in fact, maybe one of them even knew something about what the hell was going on that he didn't – he was just eager to continue exploring his MENU panel. He sighed and figured it would have to wait. The door creaked open and he forced a warm smile onto his face.

"Garath," said Sharon. The nameplate hovering above her read Sharon#142, which Garath found amusing. He was taken back though, how did his seventy-whatever-year-old neighbor know his gamertag? Before he could ask, she just continued talking in her shaking and raspy, old-lady voice, "can we come in? Why are your eyes glowing?"

"Yeah, come in. Glowing? What do you mean glowing?"

Sharon was a salty old bitch that would probably take offense to being described in any other way. She was sweet deep down, probably. She'd always been nice to Garath at least, brought him leftovers and reminded him to clean his place up, get a real job, and leave his apartment once in a while. In return, he helped her bring groceries up to the thirteenth floor and move heavy things like a jar of peanut butter whenever she texted him. It was a good neighbor relationship as far as Garath was concerned.

"I mean glowing. Like you've got lightbulbs jammed in there or something. I don't know how else you