My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy 99 Bed-Ridden Part 3

Jack opened his eyes to find himself standing inside The Repository. Frumpkin sat on a floating cus.h.i.+on not far away, filing away at his fingernails with an emory board. The deity looked up at him, and stopped filing. With a faint puff of pink smoke, the cus.h.i.+on and the emory board vanished, and Frumpkin floated over to where Jack stood, before he dropped to the ground with what sounded like a faint jingle.

"But, ya know, I don't suppose I have to pick. So, good job on not dying, kid." He said, offering Jack his hand. When Jack took it, he added "but you seriously look like s.h.i.+t."

Jack laughed. "Thanks, a.s.shole." He said, shaking the short man's hand.

Strangely, Jack found that his body didn't hurt, and when he inspected the places where his wounds were supposed to be, he found nothing there. He was also wearing his armor again, and it looked brand new and unblemished.

"So, either one of two things is happening here- either I'm tripping b.a.l.l.s, or I'm having an out of body experience." He said, giving himself a once-over. "Which is it?"
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"It's less one or the other, and more a 'some of column A, some of column b' kind of situation." Frumpkin said. "You ARE tripping b.a.l.l.s, but I figured you'd rather be, yah know, whole and coherent and be able to do something with your time, so I pulled your psyche out, rather than just letting you lay there drooling like an imbecile. Which you, by the way." He added, showing Jack a rather unflattering image of himself snoring loudly, eyes rolled back in his head, and a long strand of saliva running off his bottom lip onto the pillow.

Jack rolled his eyes, then glanced over at the pedestal in the center of the room.

"Well, since I'm here, is there anything new on the Terminal I should know about?" He asked.

"Why don't you take a look and see?" Frumpkin said, drifting lazily up towards the ceiling.

Jack walked over to the pedestal, and put his hand on the fingers of the outstretched stone arm. When he did so, the familiar floating screen of the Terminal flared to life, and started printing black text across its white surface.

"Welcome back, Jack. You have two unread notifications." The script read.

"Alright Terminal, hit me!" Jack said, leaning in towards the screen. Then, suddenly realizing what he'd just said, went to backpedal "wait, no, what I mean is-"

An invisible force knocked him flying off his feet, flying haplessly through the air before colliding with one of the shelves behind him and knocked it over with a huge crash. It hurt, but more his pride than anything. He sat up to see Frumpkin dying of laughter, holding his belly as he guffawed in mid-air.

"I can't believe you did that!" He said through fits of giggles as he wiped a tear from his eye. "When are you ever gonna learn to be care about what you ask for?"

"Hey Terminal, can you hit Frumpkin too, please?" Jack called out towards the pedestal as he got to his feet.

Frumpkin's laughter slowed, and he went to open his mouth to say something, before he was unceremoniously thunder-clapped across the room, sailing through s.p.a.ce like a bearded football until he plowed into one shelf, then another, than finally a third in a cascading cacophony of shattering gla.s.s and clanging metal. Then, to top it all off, the entire pile covering him exploded into a rainbow-colored fireball.

Jack, for his part, couldn't stop laughing now either.