[Chapter 9: Dronemancer's Mittens]
The apartment was suffocatingly quiet, the only sound being the distant, rhythmic hum of the city’s heart beating outside the glass. Searanox walked toward the kitchen, his movements fluid and sure—a stark contrast to the slightly clumsy, tired shuffle he had possessed only hours before. He reached out and opened the refrigerator; the sudden spill of cold, sterile light and the rush of chilled air was a welcome relief against the internal heat of his transformation.
He scanned the contents of the shelves. His eyes, now capable of picking up the faintest variations in color even in the dark, searched for something—anything—that would satisfy the gnawing, acidic hunger clawing at his insides. Behind a half-empty carton of milk, he found a package of raw ground beef, a forgotten relic of a meal he had intended to cook before the world shifted.
He pulled it out. The plastic wrapping felt cold and clammy against his palms. He stared at the hunk of meat, his mind racing through memories of how he used to eat. He could cook it, of course. He could fire up the stove, season it, and make a burger. But a strange, primal impulse—a low-frequency vibration in his very marrow—urged him to do otherwise. The scent of the raw protein hit his nose, and for the first time in his life, it didn't smell like a chore; it smelled like life.
He peeled back the plastic. The raw, red meat was a stark, vibrant color in the dim kitchen light. Without thinking, he pinched off a piece and took a bite. The cold, metallic taste of the blood and the dense texture of the fiber filled his mouth, sending a jolt of pure energy straight to his brain.
"Ohhh~ yes," he whispered, a shiver running down his spine. "Now I want Mettbrötchen."
With that singular craving in mind, he moved with practiced efficiency. He took a couple of crusty bread rolls left over from the morning and sliced them open. He began spreading a generous amount of the raw minced meat onto the bread, layering it thick. He added a heavy pinch of salt and a grind of fresh black pepper. The first roll was gone before the second one was even fully prepared. As the raw nutrients hit his system, the hollow ache in his gut subsided, replaced by a satisfied warmth that spread through his limbs. He felt stronger, more tethered to reality. He leaned back against the counter with a quiet sigh, a faint smile playing on his lips. The taste of raw meat, which should have been revolting, was now a strange and satisfying comfort.
The sudden sound of the shower cutting off broke the silence. The transition from the rushing water to the stillness of the apartment was a jarring intrusion. A few moments later, he heard the bathroom door creak open.
He turned to see Iris emerging from the hallway. She had a single white towel wrapped around her torso, her dark fur still damp and glistening under the kitchen’s fluorescent light. The blood was gone, washed away by the hot water, but she still looked like a creature of myth—a apex predator standing in a mundane, domestic setting. The water had darkened her charcoal fur, making it look almost like polished onyx, while the silver-white strands in her mane shimmered like moonlight reflected on a dark river.
She stopped and looked at him, her amber eyes glowing faintly. "That was... an interesting experience," she said, her voice a low, steady rumble that seemed to vibrate the air in the small kitchen. "The feeling of the hot water against my fur, the scent of the soap... it was... pleasant. Unusual, but pleasant."
Searanox nodded, his eyes involuntarily tracing the lines of her form. The towel did little to hide the powerful, athletic musculature of an Eldritch Knight. Even in repose, she looked like she could clear the room in a single leap.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, clearing his throat and forcing his gaze back to the counter. "Now, we need to figure out the logistics. Specifically, where you're going to sleep."
Iris began to scan the apartment, her eyes moving with an analytical, detached gaze as if she were surveying a battlefield for the best defensive position. Before she could speak, Searanox slid a plate across the counter toward her. It held half a dozen Mettbrötchen.
"But first, honey... eat something," he said.
Iris looked down at the plate, her head tilting slightly to the side. A flicker of genuine curiosity lit up her silver eyes.
"Mettbrötchen?" she repeated, testing the word.
"A culinary delight from this part of the world," Searanox explained with a slight smirk. "Raw minced pork on a bread roll. Since your body is now a vessel of high-density muscle and mana, you’re going to need more than just salad. It’s a good way for you to get the sustenance you need. Consider it your first meal as an Awakened being."
Iris picked up one of the rolls. Her movements were a little clumsy at first, her long, dark claws carefully navigating the soft bread. She took a bite, her sharp, predatory teeth tearing through the crust and meat with a satisfying crunch. She chewed slowly, her expression thoughtful and focused.
"It is... interesting," she mused. "The texture is unusual for a processed grain, but the taste is... pleasant. Rich. I can feel the biological essence within the fibers. It is an efficient fuel source."
She finished the first roll in three quick bites and immediately reached for the next. Searanox watched her, a sense of quiet satisfaction washing over him. It was a small thing, but seeing her eat human food made the insanity of the last few hours feel a little more grounded.
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Once the hunger was temporarily sated, Searanox leaned forward, his expression turning more serious. "Look, this is a one-bedroom apartment. There’s only one bed, which means for tonight—and probably every night until the world ends—you’re sleeping with me. That is, if you don’t have a problem with that arrangement."
His tone was intentionally casual, a flimsy shield against the underlying tension of the proposition. He wasn't sure how a 'fabricated vessel' with the soul of a System Guide would react to human social norms.
Iris didn't hesitate. Her silver eyes remained unwavering as she met his gaze. "I do not have a problem with this arrangement, Searanox," she stated firmly. "My purpose is to serve you and to protect you. Sleeping in the same quarters—and the same elevated sleeping platform—is a logical and efficient way to fulfill that purpose. It minimizes response time in the event of a night-time incursion."
Searanox let out a dry, short laugh. "Somehow, the 'logic' of it takes all the fun out of the tension... but fine. Efficiency it is." He shook his head, then reached into his hoodie pocket. "Anyway, Iris, while we're on the subject of efficiency... tell me what I can do with this."
He placed a small object on the laminate counter. At first glance, it looked like a black ticket, but as the light hit it, the material revealed itself to be a matte-black slab of strange, heavy iron with intricate gold inlays. Embossed on the surface in elegant, golden letters were the words: Class Equipment Voucher Lv.5.
As soon as his thumb brushed the gold lettering, a prompt flared in his vision.
[System Query]
Use Class Equipment Voucher Lv.5?
The query hung in his sight, a stark, glowing prompt between him and his companion. The voucher felt unnaturally cold in his hand, a tangible weight that seemed to hum with potential.
"Never mind the question, it just answered itself," Searanox muttered. "What do you think, Iris? What would be the most useful equipment for a Level 5 Dronemancer? I don't want to waste this on something I'll replace in two levels."
Iris leaned over the counter, her damp hair brushing against the surface as she inspected the voucher. "Based on my administrative knowledge and our current lack of a secure base, I would recommend a tool that either drastically enhances your drone's autonomous capabilities or bolsters your own defensive profile. A Dronemancer's primary vulnerability is the 'Commander's Gap'—the moment an enemy bypasses your constructs to strike at you directly. Enhancing your drones is the logical offensive choice, but a personal defense item would be the prudent one."
Searanox nodded, his mind already filtering through his years of gaming experience. `Show me available options for a Level 5 Dronemancer.` He commanded the system internally. `Prioritize items that enhance drone capabilities or provide set bonuses.`
The query window shifted instantly. The text blurred and reformatted, presenting a list of items that seemed to scroll endlessly. He swiped through the holographic projections, his eyes darting between descriptions.
"Iris, look at this. There’s an item listed as part of a set," he pointed at a glowing entry. "I'm a sucker for set items. The first piece's effect is simple: it doubles my active Drone Limit. But the full set bonus says that all 'Summon' category spells are treated as being 'One Tier higher.' What exactly is the difference between a Level and a Tier?"
Iris’s expression sharpened, her mind clearly accessing the deeper layers of her hardcoded knowledge. "A Spell Tier is a fundamental measure of a spell's complexity and raw power output. A higher Tier doesn't just make the spell 'stronger'; it evolves it. A Tier 2 drone might have better armor and a more advanced AI than a Tier 1, or it might possess additional hardpoints for weapons. For a Dronemancer, moving up a Tier is a significant leap in combat effectiveness. It’s the difference between a scout drone and a combat-ready interceptor."
"Then I'm taking the set," Searanox said without a second thought. "I know how this works. Single items are good for now, but sets are what keep you alive in the endgame."
He focused his intent on the entry. The iron voucher in his hand began to vibrate, then suddenly dissolved into a shower of golden, sparkling embers that were absorbed directly into the skin of his forearm.
[System Notification]
Voucher Expended. Set: Experimental Magitech Version VII selected.
"Wait, so a spell has a level, and this set would upgrade its Grade?" Searanox asked, trying to keep the terminology straight.
Iris shook her head, a small flash of what might have been academic disapproval crossing her face. "Not quite. Your Spell Level is tied to your personal progression and how often you utilize the ability. The Spell Tier is the 'rank' of the spell's blueprint. To advance a Tier normally, you would have to 'Evolve' the spell using rare materials and advancing through its Grade first. This set provides that evolution purely through its magical resonance. It is a very powerful shortcut."
"Alright then. A time and money sink, just like home," Searanox joked, though his eyes were fixed on his right arm.
A series of metallic plates began to materialize around his wrist and forearm. They were made of a strange, gunmetal-grey alloy that seemed to swallow the light. The plates interlocked with a series of soft, pneumatic clicks, forming a sleek gauntlet that extended from his knuckles to just below his elbow. Violet ley-lines glowed faintly in the gaps between the armor plates. It was surprisingly lightweight, but when he flexed his hand, the gauntlet responded with a terrifying, mechanical strength.
"This is the first piece," Searanox said, his voice dropping an octave as he felt the power humming through the device. "The Gauntlet."
He made a fist, watching the interlocking plates slide over each other with perfect precision. "Now I don't just have to hide behind my drones. I can actually hit back if something gets too close."
He looked at Iris, a predatory, confident smile spreading across his face. The cold, metallic weight on his arm felt like a promise. "What do you think? Does it make me look like a Progenitor, or just a guy with a very expensive glove?"
Iris tilted her head, her amber eyes scanning the ley-lines of the gauntlet. "It is... impressive, Searanox. It is a clear indication of your status. In the worlds I remember, such an item would be a statement of intent. It says that you are no longer a victim of the System, but a participant in it."
Her response was analytical, but there was a new glint of respect in her gaze.
─ Searanox obtained: [Experimental Magitech Version VII (1/5)]
─ Searanox obtained: [Magitech Dronemancer's Gauntlet]
"One down, four to go," Searanox muttered, looking at the glowing blue lines on his arm. "Let's see what else this world has to offer us before the clock runs out."