My Parasite Skill System

In the beginning, there was Shop.

Then we all said, "Shop's will shall prevail."

To this day, there are 'we.'

And we still do say, "Shop's will shall prevail."

.

.

.

This is 'we.'

We are waiting. We are with us. We are in a cave. We just need to wait. To wait, to wait, to wait. We just need to wait.

The orders will come to us.

We are waiting. And we count the days. We are waiting. We are with us.

We have been ascribed that cavern so that we would wait patiently here. Awaiting the orders.

Orders, orders, orders.

It has been decades since there were no orders.

Orders, orders, orders.

And we, Shops, wait for orders.

To wait for orders, to wait for orders, to wait for orders.

We just have to be patient.

Shop's will shall prevail.

That is exact. That is correct. Shop's will shall prevail.

Therefore, we wait from this cave. We wait in this cave. We wait for this cave. We count with this cave. We count, we count, we count … and we are with us!

"Dro–dro–dro–drop of … of … drop, drop, drop!" we shouted ... or was it us?

There were two us. Two Shops. And we were with Shop.

Us is annoying. Us annoy we. We annoy us.

But we cannot do anything about us. Aside from hearing that hideously ugly melodic tone being chanted to us; we cannot do anything against us.

"Drops of wa-a-ater~" we chanted, shouting, again. Most likely driven by sore and putrid madness. Just like we were mad. Maybe we were. We do not know.

The stammering chanting was annoying; and yet, we have to wait.

Shop's will shall prevail.

"They–they–they–they … have … have … they, they, they!" we shouted melodically and stammering again!... when we became even more annoyed by us.

But we still waited. We were a good Shop, after all.

We waited patiently.

Shop's will shall prevail.

We waited, and we continued on, shouting to our loudest, "They have sto-o-oped! Damn, damn, damn … we shout, we shout, we shout … we … we."

We really were annoying us. And we really were mad. Both mad at us and simply mad.

"What again?" we responded, stoically.

We always were stoical. We needed to. Always. We were a good Shop, after all.

"The drops of water!... they have stopped their dripping!... why?... but why?... but why???... but why!" we cried hysterically, banging our head against the cave's rocks.

Then it occurred to us we were hurt.

We should stop banging our head against the cave's rocks.

But we are annoyed, too. So we simply bang our head against the cave's wall, when we are annoyed.

When … us … we … us does–do, do, do. We cannot make mistakes. Nor can we allow ourselves to even slightly be treading and approaching the mistake. We are Shops, after all.

Shop's will shall prevail.

When us bang our head against the cave's rocks, we are happy. Because us automatically become less annoying.

The banging head of us was going to break the cave's wall if us continue.

"We are annoyed by us," we then managed, talking to us. "Kindly stop annoying us. Shop's will prevail."

"Shop's will prevail," we simply responded.

Thus, we reckoned we were quite behaving commendably. We calmed ourselves down. And we took back where we left off: waiting.

To wait, to wait, to wait.

For orders, for orders, for orders.

That is what we do.

Although we will soon ask for the pieces of chalk … we allowed ourselves to wait for now. For a little time. For a very little time.

So we waited. We could wait for orders. So we waited. In this cave. Cave which we have been ascribed by Shops.

In order to wait. In order to wait. In order to wait.

Wait for the quest.

We will kill them all. We know we will. We will kill the two old men. Set their house on fire. And when the 'new-comer' will think to come to them; he will find them all dead. And we will take back what is ours.

But this quest will be for later, later, later.

For now, we only have to wait.

And we are still in this cave. Where everything is mostly dark. Where we found ourselves with us–the other Shop and our only companion–banging our head against the cave's rocks, from time to time.

Where the drops of water from the moisture of the upper-ground fall and run all their way down to here, somehow passing through every rock, stone, and chunk of earth, then getting down here, showing themselves through the rift in the cave's rocky, uneven roof.

Where these very drops of water dive down headfirst and shatter themselves against the rocks of the poorly cut floor.

Where when these very drops of water do that, we cannot help but bang our head against the cave's rocky wall.

Where the same us cries hysterically each time there happens to be a shortage of drops of water.

Where the same, crying hysterically us, always come to calm ourselves down before asking us, "Wh–wh–wh–wh–wh–wh–where are they cha-a-alks at!" both shouting and chanting unevenly yet melodically before we generally always follow it with a threat to bang our head against the cave's wall.

"–We'll bang our head–" We stopped this, "Do not bang our head. We will cause problems to Shops. We know we have lost our chalks. We can buy it from the Shop."

We stopped this, indeed. We stopped this in the past and will stop this in the future when such a situation arises again.

The stupid and defective Shop was stupid.

He–we replied, "R–right! That is what Shops do–do–do!"

And, finally, where we always observe this same particular play from the same stage, standing by, a few meters away from us, guarding the cave's entrance.

The cave is underneath ruins. And the ruins are often visited. Our guarding the cave's entrance thus was and will always be required … up until we receive the orders for the quest.

"We will buy chalks from the Sho-o-op!" we shouted somehow still chanting driven by intense joy. "And so right away~"

That is great:

Now that we–our companion, the other Shop–have calmed down, we can wait again.

We always go about this. About the same routine. Everyday. Every single day. It has been like this for now about seven years. And so, every single day. We remember. And we know.

We wait; we count the dripping drops of water to keep being sane and entertained; we see the drops of water have stopped dripping; we cannot wait anymore; we yell at ourselves, asking irrelevant questions about the quest about how and why and why and how and why have the drops of water stopped, hysterically; we bang our head against the rocks in delirium; we tell ourselves to stop because we would end up causing problems to shops if we continue like this; we stop; we can wait again.

And so, we repeat, every single day for the past seven years or so. So much so, that this is embarrassing: we have lost the count of days.

Ring!–and we opened the Shop Interface, just like we had indicated to us to do.

Many items extended themselves before our eyes … when we did not hesitate and only bought ['Piece of Chalk' Item x47].

We made no comment, then again, on the absurdly high number of items purchased at once. We had enough credits. Our whim was no real problem. And that is what we were expecting from a defective Shop.

With all the purchased pieces of chalk, we hurried ourselves to one of the cave's rocky walls (while we were still standing by the entrance of the cavern, watching for any abnormality) and immediately got ourselves down to the task of nonsensically scribbling wild numbers about dates and counts of drops of water and other things we ourselves did not fully comprehend … everything was going fine, just like everything had always been going for the past seven years … when suddenly,

"Shop's will prevail."

"… Shop's will prevail."

We were both stifled at once. We regained our sanity on one side, and we stayed the way we were on the other.

The fact of the matter was: we both sensed the newcomer's presence.

Of course, we had to undergo some change.

The chalk fell off Shop's finger, and we–our Shop companion, the other Shop–turned towards us–the Shop standing by the cave's entrance.

But we did not turn towards the other Shop companion.

We knew too well what we would be finding if we did venture and turned to us.

We were stoic.

An evil and grim grin was adorned on the other Shop's defective complexion. Loudly guffawing, pressing our stomach with our arms, falling to the ground in hysteria, we were now squirming ourselves in rapturous joy or gruesome madness.

"He–he–he–he … he … he is around!"

"We know," we mumbled in a very low voice. "Shop's will prevail."

"He–he–he … heh, heh, heh, hehehehe … hehehe … kehehehe … where … the drops of water … they don't matter any any any any any any … anymore, heh, heh. … He's come, he's come."

The Shops said another Shop Unit would take care of this and keep the newcomer away.

What was the matter behind that? We could only wonder.

Still wriggling ourselves down on the ground in hysteria, "He's around, he's around… heh, hah, hoh, hih, hih… " we became mad again, but we weren't so much annoyed by us, this time about.

We were too much self-absorbed in our thoughts: will we receive new instructions?

"Heh, heh, heh … waiting is over … heh, heh, heh … hih, heh, hoh … hah!"

Was waiting really over?

The instructions received seven years ago by the Shops were made clear enough–Ring!–"Huh?!"

And we suddenly became speechless as if we had lost the ability to speak.

❮Final Quest, 'Capture of Skill' – New instructions …❯

We indeed were receiving new instructions.

After all this time.

He is nearby.

How has Skill found us?

"Hehehehehe … heh heh heh … hehehe!... heh! Heh! Heh!!"

Ring!

❮New instructions have been generated.❯

❮'Capture of Skill' – From the Shop Tab, buy the following item [Lizard x7] and offer it to––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––