With such a massive amount of plot points, Richard didn't hold back. He first woke up and glanced at where he was—Chief Hopper's cabin—and feeling relieved, he immediately began allocating points.
[Level up [Programming (B Rank)] skill.]
-88!
[Ding! Your [Programming] has been leveled up to A Rank!]
[Programming (A Rank) - If it weren't for the era failing to keep up with me, I would have already created true artificial intelligence...]
[Level up [Shooting (D Rank)] skill]
-10!
[Ding! Your [Shooting] has been leveled up to C Rank!]
[Level up...]
...Richard eventually maxed out all three of his skills: [Programming], [Shooting], and he even conveniently maxed out [All-around Housework]. This was mainly because [All-around Housework] cost significantly less than the other skills, and he was curious to see what kind of ability could be refined and developed from a maxed-out [All-around Housework].
Consequently, Richard's skill panel became... [Skills: English (C Rank) - Your level meets the daily requirements for listening, speaking, reading, and writing. You can accurately translate and express your Chinese thoughts; fortunately, your CET-6 wasn't just a fluke.
Programming (A Rank) - If it weren't for the era failing to keep up with me, I would have already created true artificial intelligence... (Refine 166, Success Rate 70%)
All-around Housework (A Rank) - Living with someone like you, let alone a woman or someone of the same sex, even invisible entities would fall for you, lost in your meticulous care. (Refine 50, Success Rate 70%)
Culinary Arts (A Rank) - Wow! Glowing cuisine! (Refine 160, Success Rate 70%)
Misfortune (E Rank) - An innate talent. Please take two seconds to briefly recall your life.
Shooting (A Rank) - American Iaijutsu perfected, Gun Kata at its peak, annihilating opponents from "eight hundred miles" away. It's a pity modern equipment can't keep up with your abilities. (Refine 100, Success Rate 70%)]
[plot points: 364]
"What on earth is this description for A Rank [All-around Housework]?" Before Richard could even mutter a second thought, he felt his body undergo a significant strengthening. However, he didn't know exactly to what extent his physical fitness had been improved. After a brief pause, he glanced at his remaining plot points and, without hesitation, invested them into refining and developing [All-around Housework].
[Ding! [All-around Housework (A Rank)] is currently being refined and enhanced...]
[Ding! Enhancement failed.]
[Ding! Enhancement failed.]
[Ding! Enhancement failed.]
[Ding! Enhancement failed.]
[Ding! Enhancement successful!]
"Fuck!" Richard's fists clenched tight as he saw the four consecutive failure notifications. Only when he saw the final successful enhancement did he feel a sliver of comfort.
[Ding! You have developed a new derived skill, [Universal Repair].]
[Universal Repair - Strange, it seems you can fix anything! Note: Please do not attempt to touch the laws of life and death.]
A torrent of knowledge flooded Richard's brain. A specific memory, like a lonely manor in a blizzard, opened its doors to him. However, inside there was no warm fireplace to ward off the cold, only bloodstains all over the floor and an even colder darkness... Once, there was a mechanic who could fix anything. His exquisite repair skills earned him the respect of the townspeople, and his wife and daughter were proud of him. But one day, his beloved wife and daughter died in a cliff-fall accident. Heartbroken, he had a sudden idea one day and dug up his dead wife and daughter from their graves, firmly believing he could "fix" them too. However, during the repair process, he found that he was short on "materials." From then on, beautiful women in the town would die "shattered" every night... In reality, Richard's hands moved in sync with the nameless mechanic in the memory. His fingers seemed to touch the flesh of every victimized beauty. Their supple skin and warm, beating organs were meticulously dissected and placed into two rotting bodies by his exquisite craftsmanship... Day after day, the process continued until the two rotting corpses were pieced together perfectly. Amidst gentle whispers, the two beauties, covered in stitch marks, opened their hollow eyes.
Richard's eyes seemed to meet those of the "resurrected" wife and daughter from the memory. The residual images of those hollow green eyes lingered in Richard's mind long after the transmission of knowledge ended. It felt as if, at every moment, two eyes from nowhere were staring intently at him, trying to pull him into an abyss of madness.
"Ugh—" Richard gasped and snapped awake, his upper body bolting up from the bed. The quilt slid off, revealing his lean, bare torso. Cold sweat covered his body, and his handsome face looked as if the sweat had sucked away his body heat. The frosty chill of the falling snow outside penetrated the cabin and brushed against his cheeks, leaving his face deathly pale.
"Chade!" Eleven, hearing movement from inside, ran into the room joyfully. She didn't treat Richard like a stranger at all and didn't mind his bare chest, leaning against the bedside as she asked, "Are you okay?"
Richard slowly came to his senses. His body heat returned along with his sanity, and a healthy flush gradually crept back onto his cheeks. He breathed a sigh of relief and asked, "What time is it?"
"Ten-Eleven in the morning," Eleven said with a smile.
"What's the date?" Richard saw the snow falling outside the window. He clearly remembered that on the night they went to The Upside Down to save everyone, the sky was clear. Though there were signs of winter, the temperature hadn't been that low.
Eleven explained, "Today is Thanksgiving."
"Huh?" Richard paused for a moment, then slowly nodded. "So that means I've been asleep for a day and a night."
"Do you want something to eat?" Eleven asked.
"I am indeed a bit hungry." Richard rubbed his empty stomach. Once he realized he hadn't eaten in a long time, the sleeping glutton in his belly began to wake up, growling in complaint.
Eleven grinned. "There are some leftover Waffles from breakfast; I'll get them for you. There are also some crackers in the house; I'll bring those too."
Richard nodded with a smile, sitting on the bed waiting for Eleven to bring the food.
Before long, Richard's bedside was surrounded by a large amount of food. Richard lived up to expectations and finished everything, yet even then, he felt only half-full.
Still, it was better than nothing. Richard regained the strength to walk. He asked young Eleven, who didn't quite understand the boundaries between men and women yet, to wait outside for a moment. He changed into some clothes—likely Hopper's or Robin's—that had been brought from his home and left on the nightstand.
"You seem to have grown a bit taller?" Soon, Eleven saw the dressed Richard come out of the room. She sized him up, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Yeah, I felt it." Richard looked down at his pants, which no longer fit properly; the distance between the hem and his ankles had increased by about two to three centimeters. Originally, he was just under 1.8 meters, but now he was definitely at least 1.8 meters. He shook his head. "That's not important. Is Chief Hopper not home?"
As she watched Richard walk into the kitchen and skillfully rummage through someone else's fridge to take out fruits, vegetables, and meat to prepare a meal, Eleven said, "He went to town to buy things for tonight's Thanksgiving activities. Chade, will you stay and have dinner with me tonight?"
"Of course, provided Hopper agrees," Richard smiled. Unable to endure the hunger, he picked up a large, freshly washed tomato and ate it raw. Then, he looked at Eleven, who was happy about what he had just said, and remarked, "You're speaking much more fluently now."
Eleven scratched her little buzz-cut head. "I'm not sure. After I woke up, I felt like I suddenly knew a lot of words I didn't understand before."
Richard stopped chopping vegetables and asked curiously, "Did you remember your old blank memories?"
"I don't think so." Eleven shook her head. She walked from the sofa to the counter, gripping the edge with both hands as she looked at Richard expectantly, her eyes filled with a hint of admiration. She occasionally glanced at the ingredients Richard was preparing and licked her lips. "What delicious food are you making this time?"
"There's a portion for you," Richard said with a light chuckle, not pressing further about Eleven's lost memories.
When Chief Hopper returned to the cabin laden with bags and saw Richard awake and cooking in the kitchen, he gave him a surprised hug. Then, the three of them spent a peaceful Thanksgiving together. Everyone was in perfect sync; no one mentioned what had happened two days ago. Richard didn't even ask about the aftermath or the outcome of The Lab's handling.
It wasn't until Hopper had tucked the exhausted, sleeping Eleven into her room and closed the door, leaving a small three-inch crack, that he began to recount everything that had happened while Richard was unconscious. His opening sentence made Richard understand almost everything: "I'm sorry, but The Lab still can't be closed for the time being."