"Inventory."
It wasn't in there, as he thought. For the past half an hour, Johnny had explored the various functions the Divine Menu's inventory provided him. It was fairly intuitive for him to use. There were twenty slots available, four of which were already occupied by the Used Divine Shard, as well as the shirt, shorts, underwear, socks, and shoes he possessed.
He could add other objects to it too, by simply picking up whatever was lying around. Doing so vaporized it into a wisp of smoke after a confirmation box appeared asking whether it was correct to add the item to the inventory. For example, ripping up a handful of the long grasses in the immediate vicinity yielded a new item in the inventory: "Tuft of Field Grass". A number was associated with each item as well, which Johnny assumed to be the stack amount for that item. Each tuft of grass he added, the number went up by one.
As for selecting items, when his vision hovered over an item, it would materialize in his hand, and which hand it materialized in depending on which one was free at the time -or at random if both are available-.
Lastly, dropping any item onto the ground, or any loss of contact with it general -as he had attempted to do only moments ago- equated to removing it from his inventory, subsequently removing the item's icon from the inventory screen.
However, there's was a catch. A fractional number positioned at the top right of the inventory menu displayed his current weight limit. It was somewhat confusing, as it did not include any units of measurement, only the current weight number he had currently, in proportion to the total weight possible. This made it difficult for Johnny to gauge just how much he could feasibly carry. However, what he did know was when the limit was reached, everything he touched slipped through his fingers as though they were slick with oil.
While he experimented, he had returned to the lone tree he revived at for further examination. It towered above him, to a height which Johnny estimated to be somewhere near ten or twelve meters. Its trunk was stout, and he assumed the branches were too, but he didn't have the strength to try climbing the trunk and get one.
It would probably have helped if he didn't drop out of his biology classes in college, he mused. General knowledge of trees and plants would have been really helpful in this world.
"So being a failure carries over between worlds, huh?"
He grumbled to himself. So much for change. The failure of a person he thought he had left behind was still haunting him.
Having lost interest in the tree and in gathering grasses for inventory experiments, he embarked on yet another mission: Water. He noticed it on his return to the tree, the fact that the status option box was a light yellow color. It was a rather redundant feature since he could feel the raging thirst. His throat was akin to a desert now, no thanks to the calibration from earlier. The calibration did, however, give him the adrenaline to move his exhausted body, in addition to the overwhelming gravity of the situation he was in.
To the south, east, and west of this world, the plains stretched all the way to the horizon. In the distance, just barely visible to the naked eye, a translucent smudge rose up above the sky's meniscus. It was nearly imperceptible, and if it were dusk or night when he arrived here, he would have certainly missed it. It could be anything, but compared to the emptiness he surmised were in the other directions, it was a damn sight better. He resolved, in part from curiosity, but also the absolute necessity of finding drinkable water, to set his course for the distant shadow to the north. There was nothing for him here in the plains.
-
Several hours had passed, and he didn't seem any closer to the shadow than when he first started. The sun was setting, his stomach was growling, and he felt faint from his insatiable thirst. His status glowed red, a disturbing sign that he hoped he didn't have to see for at least another day.
Onward. He had nothing else he could do other than move. Laying down now only meant certain death, as his legs were barely able to support his weight, and the fatigue that built up since his arrival in this world was beginning to take its toll. He wondered how the goddess would react if he showed up in the expanse after only a day. Would she send him back to try again? He groaned at the thought.
He came to a dead stop at the thought of the goddess. She was the one to blame for all of this! He was woefully unprepared for this world. In games, you'd get starting gear and the resources you needed to survive. Wasn't the goddess supposed to handle that when he got here? Or at least drop him in a starter town, so he could level and get stronger? The sudden realization annoyed Johnny to no end.
So it was her fault, not mine.
It wasn't his responsibility to shoulder. In fact, she should have prepared him for this.
"Hahahahah....haha... It's all her fault, isn't it?!"
His raucous laughter echoed in the distance. Johnny fell to his knees in the tall grasses for the second time that day, sobbing. He wasn't the one at fault this time, so why was he crying? He just wasn't prepared, just wasn't ready for this massive undertaking that faceless goddess forced on him. He was going to die, again, as soon as he was revived.
His whole existence up to now was laughable. First, he was killed, in a joke of an accident, for what he wasn't even certain, considering the outcome the goddess recounted. Not only that, he was pelted nearly to death after already dying, by a bunch of condensed universes no less, and the most painful kick in the groin was the con-job he fell for. Why did he have to save worlds that even a goddess couldn't save?
With that, the very last reserve of the determination Johnny had mustered on his way to this world, eroded. He had enough. If he had to die again for his painful existence to end, then so be it. The Expanse didn't seem too bad anyway. He fell over onto his side. The fatigue, hunger, and dehydration finally caught up to him. He uttered two muted words before darkness filled his vision for the fourth time in his journey up until now.
"Why me?"
-
Splat.
The dull thud of a drop of liquid on human skin barely managed to filter through his senses.
Splat.
He felt it on his nose this time.
Splotch.
It was the largest one yet. The drops that scattered from the impact filtered between his eyelashes and flowed underneath his eyelids. It stung.
Johnny slowly came to, his hands struggling to remove the offending liquid from his eyes. When his vision cleared, he found himself in a dimly lit, cave-like space. A torch embedded into the cavern wall cast a dim light against the cave walls. Above his head, stalactites dripped a foul-smelling, green liquid, which had dripped onto his head and body. The red status he had earlier had downgraded to yellow. He noticed that his fatigue and thirst had passed.
Johnny's stomach growled in protest for having gone for too long without refreshment. Apparently, his hunger still lingered.
As his thoughts cleared from the groggy haze of sleep, he became more aware of his circumstances. It was obvious at first glance what had happened. He was carried from the plains where he had fallen unconscious. To where though? Who knows. It must be far away, as the only place he saw was the distant shadow from earlier. There weren't any mountains, cliff faces, or hills in the plains, let alone any caves. He was sure he didn't miss any either.
"That was close." he thought. If he ever met his savior, he had to be sure to thank them.
Johnny rose to his feet and shook his half-asleep legs. He was sore from lying on the uneven, stone floor, but otherwise, he was in relatively good condition.
On his feet, he noticed that he wasn't in an enclosed cavern, but rather a corridor, the entrances of which angled sharply to the left and to the right, which gave the initial impression that both sides were dead ends in the weak torchlight.
"This should come in handy."
He whispered to himself, as he wrenched the torch out from the narrow gap from which it was wedged. While he was grateful for the timely rescue, it was inconvenient that they left him in a cave. The gloomy caverns weren't his idea of a home sweet home.
-
The light of the torch illuminated the stony corridor. The eerie ambiance it lent to the visible area ahead of him sent chills through Johnny's spine. The quiet padding of his shoes against the stone was accompanied by the steady dripping of the green substance from his clothing. He had grown used its sickening stench by now, which he was somewhat grateful for, but the slimy texture it lent to his skin made him gag.
At last, he arrived at a large rotunda within the cavern. The ceiling soared high above him, where even more of the green liquid fell from the stalactites above. In regular intervals around the perimeter of the space, more torches were stuck in holes in the cave wall.
Who had the time to make all these torches? Or rather, how many "who's" did? The thought made Johnny's empty stomach churn with anxiety.
There were three other passageways in the rotunda to choose from aside from the one he had just emerged. One was directly ahead, another was slightly counterclockwise to the left of that, and the last was ninety degrees clockwise of the former of these. Other than their irregular appearance, he couldn't differentiate between them, nor could he deduce which would take him to the surface, if any. He spun his torch in the air, and it fell to the ground. It landed with the flames pointed closest to the one on the right.
Luck, don't fail me now...
He moved toward the chosen passageway...
Oof!
His face collided with something soft and furry, yet oddly solid and muscular, as he turned the corner to the passageway. A soft growl emanated from the thing.
Ah, what pretty orange and black stripes, Johnny admired.