Math.

John hated math. It was that simple. Not the subject itself, he enjoyed crunching numbers when they had to do with games, but the problems they had to solve in class... they were pointless! When would he ever really need to calculate the integral of a square root? As the teacher prattled on, John silently pulled up his Character Sheet and glared at it.

I swear... if I ever have to do 'real' math to figure you out...

As always, the Developer did not give any kind of reply, so he chose to take the lack of popups as an acceptance of his ultimatum. John kept the sheet open and fiddled with it throughout the class; it was far more interesting than what he was supposed to be learning anyway. Fortunately, the teacher wasn't particularly attentive to John's lack of interest.

There were a few things to consider. Firstly, what Erica had said about 'types'. John clearly wasn't a fighter, pure attributes could show that, but he couldn't exactly call himself a mage either. Two offensive spells weren't enough in his mind to deserve that title. Besides, his Character Sheet still said 'The Gamer'. It made more sense that he hadn't become anything, yet. The quest from earlier in the morning lent some weight to that theory. A 'Combat Style' might help him identify whatever theoretical class he was. If only he knew how to get one...

What he did know was that he picked up skills somewhat related to the actions he took, and he had a borderline useless weapon. He'd gotten Evasion as a result of a well-timed dodge and improved it with use, so the same principle should apply to his whip. 'Practice makes perfect' after all. The same could be true of his spells, but there was a concern. Would they level up if he wasn't in a fight?

Too many questions and not enough answers. John tried to focus back on what he knew.

Erica had been in the Barrier yesterday, so... maybe she could get them both into another and help him stay alive while he trained. Worst case, she couldn't, but he could get some pointers from her on handling Abyssal creatures or something...

John messed up his hair while he thought, trying to plan. Every avenue led to more questions, and those questions led to even more questions! He badly wished he wasn't so unique, just so he could ask someone else what they did at the start...

New Skill: Planning ~ 1
Improves the Gamer's analysis of future situations and information recall. Allows for the-

Accessing Event D.T.38: 10_21_14_11_00_18_01_20_19

John blinked at the off-color sky and lowered his hand. Nothing looked all that different from the junkyard he'd been in moments before, but it was clear that it was different. Just to confirm his suspicions, he tried using Craft on a nearby pile of garbage, but nothing happened. It must be considered part of the terrain now, instead of the assortment of items it really was.

Wait.

As he crept through the narrow spaces between the piles of garbage, John pulled up his green hoodie to try and stave off the stench. Everything smelled even worse here in the Barrier than it did in reality, and he had to fight back vomiting. There was a rustling sound from around the corner. He pressed up against a large fridge and glanced out while hoping his Stealth would keep him hidden.

This isn't right.

John struck the leaping rat as soundly as he could, scoring deeply and inflicting a near-fatal wound, but it wasn't enough. Another took its place, and the swarm continued to nip and bite at his heels. He felled the lowest health enemy he saw with a slew of Magic Bolts and prepared to stab the next one that ran out to attack. Right before he could, something hit him hard in the side of the head.

This isn't me!

Access Terminated

John's head hurt, a piercing sensation that reverberated like a low buzzing. He felt something trickle out of his right nostril and wiped it away with the back of his hand. What had just happened? He could remember things; snapshots of events that hadn't happened... yet? Just thinking about it worsened the pain to an unbearable level.

"Newman? Newman! John!" his teacher's increasingly frantic voice broke into John's thoughts, and he looked down at the sizable smear of blood that covered his skin. "Someone get Newman to the nurse."

As though watching a black and white film turn to color, John grounded himself back into reality and numbly stood when a girl with hair so pale it was almost white tapped him on the shoulder. He staggered to his feet and stumbled out of the classroom, having to stay focused on putting one foot in front of the next. It didn't help that there were popups everywhere.

Error: Unexpected Access of Protected Data - D.T.38
Error: Unexpected Access of Protected Data - D.T.38
Error: Unexpected Access of Protected Data - D.T.38
Error: Unexpected Access of Protected Data - D.T.38
Error: Unexpected Access of Protected Data - D.T.38
Error: Unexpected Access of Protected Data - D.T.38

John waved at the windows, closing them one at a time. His erratic movements caught the attention of his escort.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

John looked over at her, then up at her name. The text was a little blurry.

Tricia Gorbachev

That was odd, he couldn't remember anyone with that name in any of his classes, but at the moment he could hardly think anyway.

"Nothing. Sorry."

The girl raised an eyebrow, but let it slide as they continued down the hall together.

John's body felt sluggish, as though he were ****, and he was **** to accept Tricia's help in staying upright as they managed the stairs. His nose kept bleeding, even as he wiped at it halfheartedly with his bloodstained hand. It really only worsened the mess, and John was certain there was now drying blood all over his cheeks.

Fortunately, it didn't take too long to get to the nurse's office, and by the time they arrived, he was feeling well enough to walk steadily. The haze in his mind had cleared somewhat, enough to remind him to thank Tricia when he entered the office. She looked surprised when he mentioned her name. Maybe he really had never heard it before? Ah well.

Almost the instant the office door closed behind him, John was set upon by the school nurse. She was a short and slightly pudgy woman by the name of Prudence Winslow, and she immediately began asking questions. What had happened? How badly did it hurt? Did he take any medications or have any allergies?

John blearily answered every question as she wiped his face and hand clean with a wet towelette. With each response, he felt a bit more in-control and able to put his thoughts together in a coherent manner. As the haze lifted, he realized his nose had stopped bleeding at some point. His condition confused the nurse; there was no injury to account for the sudden concussion-like symptoms he'd experienced and no chronic condition or reaction to medication to fall back on. John had just started bleeding for no apparent reason.

She said as much, leading John to check his Character Sheet for himself. His health was full and there were no outstanding status effects or changes to his stats. The only theory he had was that it was related to the error messages and strange waking dream he'd experienced, but he couldn't exactly tell Mrs. Winslow that. He'd sound crazy.

Mrs. Winslow gave him a dose of ibuprofen and a warning that if anything else happened that he should come see her immediately. John accepted the cup of water and pill and downed them both, resulting in an unexpected popup.

Status Effect Gained: Painkillers ~ E
10% damage reduction from physical sources. (5:59:59 remaining)
Only one medication status effect may be applied at a time.
Repeated application may result in side-effects.

Useful, though the mention of side-effects was concerning. Gamer's Body protected him from physical consequences, but clearly, he could still be affected by chemical compositions and addictive substances. Even so, it would probably be worth visiting a pharmacy. He'd just need to be careful with anything he took. Like in Nuclear Armageddon 4.

Mrs. Winslow asked if he wanted to rest for a bit and released him back to class when John politely declined. As he stepped back out into the hallway, he looked down at his watch. There were only ten minutes left of math. He could go back... or spend that more productively.