Once prayers were given and bodies were covered, Erik returned his attention to the swirling purple mist. The waypoint acted like a portal connecting the morgue to his inner realm, allowing his unit to transverse between the two with ease. Despite being in the real world, William remained as artificial as ever and responded only to command issued. There was also another exclamation mark.

“My Lord, we can salvage these furniture for our own use. If we break them down, we can use them as construction materials,” William suggested. A new option called ‘Scavenges’ appeared on his list of possible commands.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Erik said. William immediately picked up the wooden chair nearby and smashed it into pieces, causing Erik to flinch. He nonchalantly collected the pieces and entered the waypoint. A few seconds passed before he emerged and proceeded to smash another wooden chair and collected their fragments.

“Well, that’s one way to collect resources,” Erik said and checked how much woods it added to his stockpile. Each round-trip William made only added 1 wood. There weren’t enough wooden chairs to erect a Barrack. “Do it quietly, we don’t want to wake up the dead – or better yet, bring it to the other side and smash it into pieces there.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” William responded and did as commanded. Once the chairs were all taken to the other side and turned into raw materials, he approached one of the closest tables. Without a thought, he tossed the charred corpse on top of the table and onto the ground and began dragging the table to the waypoint.

“Oi!?” Erik called out and suspended the command. William immediately stopped working and stood there like a statue. “Don’t you have any regards for the dead?”

William looked puzzled. “I do not understand, my Lord. What uses a table to the dead?”

Erik stared at the man, amazed. The man seemed to not realize what he did was immoral. “If I order you to kill a newborn, would you do it?”

“Yes, my Lord,” William said flatly. There was no sign of hesitation.

Erik chuckled weakly. His chuckle soon turned into a full-blown laughter. “You’re not human! You’re not. Of course, you’re not. How could you be? You’re a robot, emotionless machine.”

Once his laughter died down, Erik commanded William to help him move all the corpses onto the floor. After that, all the tables were hauled into the waypoint and harvested for woods.

“189 Woods, 203 Iron, 200 Stones, and 69 Golds,” Erik checked his stockpile while wondering where the mortician was. He must had cause a ruckus looting everything that wasn’t bolted down. “When did I gain 3 Irons?”

[Those tools that the Worker brought back were recycled into raw iron. If you liked to keep them as they were for usage, an Armoury is required]

“Is that so,” Erik muttered. He wanted a Barrack first, so he could have proper combat units, but the problem was Golds. If one worker cost 30 Golds, a combat orientated unit would cost a lot more. Its upkeep would also be significant more as well. “How much does it cost to build an armoury?”

[300 woods, 200 Iron, 200 Stones, and 200 Golds]

“Gold is definitely going to be a problem,” Erik said. “Where the fuck do I find gold?”

[Does the outside world not have a place where valuables are stored?]

“You’re not suggesting I go and rob a bank?” Erik asked.

[I don’t see a problem with that]

“I’m not robbing a bank,” Erik growled. If his power was like a real time strategy games, then there should be a way to get a steady supply of gold without resorting to robbing and stealing. “Is there a way to build a marketplace where I can sell one resources for another?”

[…]

“You don’t know, do you?” Erik asked. He already realized that Dell didn’t know as much about his power as it had previously implied. It probably knew just a bit more than he did, and that made him uneasy. Who or whatever Dell was, it obviously wasn’t linked to his power. Even so, it still had some control over it.

[…]

Erik turned his attention to William. He ordered the man to return to the inner realm before clearing the waypoint. The swirling purple mist vanished and the fissure in airspace faded away like it wasn’t there in the first place. “How long can I keep the waypoint open?”

[There is no time limit. You would not able to create another waypoint if one remains opened]

“Unless I have another Headquarter, right?”

[That is correct. A second Headquarter allows you to create another waypoint]

“I see,” Erik said with a grin. He could clearly see how waypoint could be abused. If he had the tiles to play around with, he could give himself a pseudo portal-power. His power was more useful than it appears. “Kind of OP”

[OP?]

“Overpowered,” Erik explained with a shrug. “Anyway, I need to get out of here.”

Aside from the heavy rain, the hallway outside the morgue was eerily quiet. Erik noticed the time on the hanging clock. It was almost 1 am. He also took notice of the map, detailing the building he was currently in. The morgue was not part of the hospital. It wasn’t even a morgue, but a storage facility that converted into one due to the recent incident.

Avoiding the cameras, Erik made his ways to the locker room for a change of clothing. Once there, he formed the waypoint and brought William back into the real world.

“Put these on,” Erik commanded. “Even if you can’t feel anything, I can’t have you running around in rags.”

William obeyed and changed to the new set of clothing. Once did, Erik had a look of William’s status once more.

Name: William Strongarm [Edit]

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Class: Peasant

Profession: Worker

Heath Point (HP): 80/80

Stamina Point (SP): 37/50

Mana Point (MP): 0/0

Strength: 11

Constitution: 9

Resistance: 8

Dexterity: 8

Charisma: 11

Wisdom: 7

Perception: 10

Luck: 8

Equipment: Bandana (head), White Shirt (upper-body), Wool Jacket (upper-body), Blue Jean (lower-body), Copper Ring (Right hand middle-finger).

“Did his stats changed?” Erik questioned. He was sure that William’s wisdom was lower the last time he had checked. It had gone up by two points. This was what Erik was afraid of.

Even in modern Real Time Strategy game, basic units were not named. They were fodders, trained and died by the hundreds. The only units that worth mentioning were heroes. Those were named and had stats, attributes and skills. They were equivalent to elite unit and shouldn’t be allowed to die unless there was no other way to save them.

William was not a hero-unit, yet he had evolving stats and attributes like one. That alone made him indispensable. If all units had stats and attributes, Erik would have to think long and hard on which one was expendable.

“Going to be way too much micromanagement,” Erik muttered and shook his head. He sent William back to the inner world and had him continued to gather whatever he could find in the tall grass.

“I should figure out a way to get golds. Without golds, I can’t build anything. How much is one unit of gold anyway? Hey Dell, can I take out resource from the stockpile?”

[Yes. What would you like to take out?]

“I can? Great! Give me 1 unit of gold,” Erik said and spread his hand. His eyes widened when a small block of gold appeared in his palm right after a burst of all-too familiar purple mist. It must weigh at least 7 ounces (200 grams). “Um… how heavy is this?”

[5 ounces]

“So close,” Erik growled and reweighted the pure gold block in his hand. “I was expecting something difference, you know, like a gold coin, but this is nice too. I wonder how much it worth?”

[…]

“Can you put it back into the stockpile?” Erik asked. A second later, the small gold block in his palm was gone, whizzed away by purple mist. He looked at his palm soon after, seeing the mist dispersed and vanished. A small smile formed in the corner of his mouth. This was one of those things that Dell failed to mention. What he had is a pseudo inventory system.

“Is it possible to take other items out of the inner realm through this method?”

[Yes]

Erik broadened his smile. He would have to test his theory once the Armoury is built. “Alright, give me 1 unit of iron.”

“Woah!” Erik nearly dropped the ingot, weighting approximately 20 pounds (9kg) on the ground. He returned the ingot back to the stockpile after some scrutiny. “I’m afraid to ask. How heavy is 1 unit of stone?”

[Approximately 1 tonnes. Would you like one?]

“That will kill me!” Erik growled as lightning flashed, brightening the room. Another shadow casted on the wall, alongside with his. His eyes immediately widened. He jerked away. With his back against the wall, he scanned the room. No one could be seen. “You saw that, right?”

[Someone is here]