Chapter 395: My Upgrade Came With Plumbing

The pirates had selected the wrong piece of the animal to steal, because I had already paid for breakfast on it.

The market host said the pirates had visited before and knew exactly who lived over those plates. I asked whether he’d mind if their next visit was considerably less comfortable, and he looked at the empty pan as though weighing up how much help it could provide.

Lukas checked our room while I watched the boat. The market host had called the watch, but its patrol couldn’t beat the morning tide that would let the pirates cross.

I tried humming at their distant fuel tank. Nothing happened, which was unfair when I was putting this much hate into it.

[System: You’re sitting on a full evolution bar, mate. We could upgrade the angry garden hose before somebody tries selling it beside the souvenir spoons.]

*They want to steal breakfast while I choose my next body, and somehow I am the difficult one here?*

[System: That’s why we’re doing it now, you luxury tow strap. They’re waiting on water, and you’re waiting on a personality assessment you won’t pass.]

The market host cleared the adjoining storage space, with a sound floor and room for my wings. Lukas secured our bags and agreed to keep watch.

I opened the menu expecting something magnificent, then found myself studying internal support and pressure control. Crimson Tideheart Wyrm sounded like it should arrive to screaming guitars. Instead, Old Mate was explaining why I would be harder to squash.

*Were we evolving or renovating a fucking drain?*

[System: Both, mate, and the drain’s getting cheeky about the quote. You keep the wings, the red body and the tendrils, so stop looking for the complaint button.]

The other routes offered lighter gliding or softer concealment. I considered them until I remembered getting thrown through things by bigger bastards. Being thrown more gracefully wasn’t enough of an improvement to interest me.

*"I’m taking the one that makes me harder to move,"* I told Lukas.

"Good, because carrying you out in the breakfast cart would ruin the market host’s morning."

[System: Crimson Tideheart Wyrm, Rank B+, with Pressure Packing as the evolution ability. Same mass, better control. You can brace and compact parts of your own body instead of flopping around like a premium seat belt.]

*Could I let the pirates hit me and make them watch their weapons break?*

[System: Only if you fancy explaining the new holes to your missus. It braces your body, you drongo; knives still cut, and your weight stays the bloody same.]

Concentration sounded like work, but the pirates were still outside. I wanted them looking at me tomorrow the way they’d looked at those expensive shell plates.

*Fine, but if I ended up looking cheaper, I wanted a refund.*

[System: Mate, you’re a flying red sausage threatening a menu. We’ve got nowhere to go but up.]

I accepted before the little bastard could offer me a bun.

A firm pulse gathered behind my ribs and moved through my length. My tendrils drew close as the red slime tightened around its developing center.

Something squeezed deep inside me, and I dug my underside into the boards while Lukas told the market host the red stuff wasn’t a leak. I wanted to argue that he could sound a little less fascinated while I suffered, but the next squeeze stole the words.

*If this is plumbing, somebody left a fucking wrench inside me and I want their supervisor.*

When the pressure eased, my underside held firm against the boards. I softened it deliberately, enjoying the control almost enough to forgive the installation.

I stretched to my usual six feet four, then considered taking the twelve-foot swimming shape just to make the room look smaller. Lukas pointed at the doorframe before I tried it. Apparently everybody had become an expert on ruining my fun.

The black wings remained black, red-threaded and familiar. Their feathers shifted when I tested a small movement, and the injured edge gave a sharp warning that immediately spoiled my optimistic expression.

[System: There’s your refund policy, mate. Keep poking that sore wing and we’ll print it on the bandages.]

*You could have led with a little sympathy before calling me damaged stock.*

Lukas checked the dressing without pulling the wing open. Nothing had torn during the change, and I folded it carefully while the market host brought water and an empty wooden crate for a controlled test.

I braced against the crate and told Lukas to give it a proper shove. The wood scraped backward while my side held firm. I immediately asked him whether he needed a running start, which was how I ended up regretting my mouth.

He pushed harder, and keeping my shape suddenly took effort. I held on anyway, determined not to let a fucking crate win my first fight as a B+ monster. Lukas called the test finished before I could demand a rematch.

The completed two hundred thousand EXP was consumed by the evolution. My new bar read zero out of three hundred thousand, while my IP remained one thousand fifteen.

The four equipped skills were unchanged. Galaxy Brain, Bio-Recall, Mine Now, and Backdoor Bludger remained available, alongside the established abilities and Missus Express.

I messaged the girls about the new form and the bracing ability. After deleting "try shoving something expensive," I told them to start gently and wait for my call. Old Mate read the first version over my shoulder and accused me of going soft.

Cherry replied that she would remove the expensive glasses from the counter first. Lyra asked whether my wing was better, and I answered honestly. Bridget told me she appreciated the warning arriving before a demonstration in the living room.

We slept in turns, with the market host monitoring the marine radio and Lukas waking me before the morning tide.

Through the window, I saw the harpoon boat moving into the approach. A broad man at its bow noticed me and pointed, drawing two others beside him.

I pressed closer to hear them, already choosing which one deserved the crate treatment.

"Forget the little shell pieces," the first man said. "Look at that red thing in the window."

Another lifted a metal collar from the deck, and all three began arguing over my sale price.