Minecraft: Diary of a Wimpy Villager (Book 3): (An unofficial Minecraft book) Read online

  Then, Urf revealed a huge 'secret tip' at the end:

  "If there are thirty mobs around you, just run away," he said. He took a swig of water from his water bottle. "Just run away."

  The students were totally silent once more.

  I myself couldn't believe what I was hearing.

  Run away when thirty mobs are surrounding you. Really? Are you sure? You mean like, move your legs so you move away from the mobs? That's brilliant. Good tip.

  This elder, he was a total nooblord.

  Stump and I left the class disheartened. We had to get some ice cream after school. That was the only thing we could think of to raise our spirits.

  And it did.

  We soon had an idea on how to solve this problem. I guess diamond ore chunk is just that amazing.

  Maybe you're thinking the same thing I was thinking at that point.

  Let me give you another little quiz, then.

  We need a real warrior to teach us; however, none of us villagers are warriors. So, in your opinion, what should we do?

  A) Immediately start crying.

  B) Ask the mobs real nicely to just stop attacking.

  C) Dig down until bedrock and live like dwarves, eating mushrooms and bats.

  Or, maybe . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  Just maybe . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  (You know what's coming, right? You know. You surely know.)

  . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  D) Recruit Steve as a Combat teacher?

  That's right.

  We do have a real warrior in the village.

  Two, actually. Mike is a warrior as well. Although, he's in jail.

  Hurrrrr. I wonder if the elders would release him if he agreed to help us out?

  First, I went to ask Steve about this.

  Sadly, when I went back home, Steve was already asleep.

  Right now, I'm finishing up my Crafting homework, trying to ignore his snores.

  There's always tomorrow.

  SATURDAY

  When I woke up this morning, I checked my record book.

  My combat score went up.

  My crafting score had an even higher gain.

  That was obviously from my constant crafting attempts at night, in my room (sorry Fluffles).

  I wasn't too far behind Max, then.

  This morning, I went out for a walk, and I saw Max in the street. He was looking at his own record book. I managed to peek at it.

  How is his trading score so high?

  Whatever.

  He's probably the highest level student in school.

  If I keep working hard, I'm sure I'll catch up.

  Even if I don't, as long as I'm in the top five, I'll be eligible to become a warrior.

  Still, how awesome would it be to outlevel Max? I can't imagine the look on his face.

  As for Steve, he was still moping around.

  He didn't even get out of his bed to eat breakfast. He took out some bread from his inventory, shoved it into his mouth, and went back to sleep.

  So, I went to go hang out with Stump and the two girls, Sarabella and Aera. We talked about some new ideas for the upcoming mining test.

  My idea was, by the time I came back, Steve would be up, and we could talk about him becoming a teacher.

  Well, when I returned, the sun was on its way down, my parents were working in the fields—and Steve was still snoring away. It looked like he'd eaten almost an entire cake by himself. The last half-eaten slice was lying on the table near the window.

  I cleared my throat. Loudly.

  Nothing.

  He didn't move at all.

  Then I approached the bed and said:

  "Creeper."

  He shot up out of his bunk bed.

  Cake crumbs went flying everywhere.

  Then he glanced around, his eyes wide, before giving me a dirty look.

  "Not funny."

  "It wasn't supposed to be."

  "Whatever." He rubbed his eyes. Yawned. "What time is it?"

  I ignored his question and stepped forward. "What's wrong with you? You've been sleeping all day!"

  He only sighed and laid back down in bed. Turned away, facing the wall.

  Basically, as I came to realize, Steve is 'depressed'.

  He lost all of his items, all of his buildings. What's more, he lost his pride. The mobs, they defeated him, got past all his defenses.

  Nothing worse can happen to a warrior than that, I imagine.

  Not only that, but he's trapped here, in Minecraftia. He really misses Earth.

  For once, it was my turn to be the strong one.

  I marched over to the bed, looked up and said: "You know, those mobs are gonna figure out how to break our wall sooner or later. Some day, the creepers are gonna realize, they don't need to bomb us with slimes. They can just blow up next to the wall, and that'll be it. We need you, hurrrrr. Besides, don't you want to get revenge?"

  I thought it was a good speech.

  Yet, Steve only made a strange groaning noise . . .

  "Uuuuuggghhhhhh . . ."

  I tried a few more times to motivate him, but he didn't move. Another zombie. While I was a crafting zombie, he's a zombie that only sleeps and eats cake.

  My parents said I shouldn't bother him.

  They said he needs some time alone.

  That's fine. I understand. Besides, he's not the only warrior around.

  Tomorrow, I'm gonna visit Mike.

  SUNDAY

  I went to the jail today. Spoke with Mike.

  He said he'd be willing to teach us how to fight. Of course, I asked him if he actually knew how to fight.

  His response was:

  "Dude, seriously? Don't you know who I am?"

  "Not really . . . dude?"

  When I said that word—dude—it was in an awkward way. I'd never used that word before, and didn't know what it meant. Earth slang, I guess.

  He sighed.

  "Right, you're not exactly from Earth, huh? Well, I used to play this game called Minecraft . . ."

  (Here we go again, I thought.)

  I waited for him to continue. "Urr-hurrrr. And?"

  "And in Minecraft," he said, "I was the best warrior ever. I was known as Minemaster Mike. Just get me out of this stupid jail and I'll teach you villagers everything. The mobs won't ever think about going near a village again. The endermen will be so afraid, they'll actually start crying just looking at your village. And because water hurts the endermen, their own tears will actually burn them. See? That's how pro I am."

  "Endermen hurt by their own tears," I said. "Is that even possible?"

  Mike shrugged. "I don't know. But we're gonna find out."

  Hurrrrn. I admit, I really like Mike's attitude.

  Even so, I had to question him further.

  If he was anything like Urf . . .

  "If you're so good," I said, looking at him through the iron bars, "then why did you come running into our village?"

  "Come on," he said. "There was like a hundred zombies. I just wasn't prepared. I heard that Steve guy got ambushed as well, and he's pretty good, right?"

  "Hurrrrrrrrrrmmm. Okay. I believe you. I'll try to convince the mayor to let you out."

  "Do your best," he said. "Just get me out of here, and I'll carry you guys to victory. By the way, I really wanna talk to Steve. Can you tell him to come down here?"

  "That's gonna be tough," I said. "He's been moping around lately. But I'll try."

  "Well, you'd better," he said. "Things are getting bad, I guess. I overheard the guards talking earlier . . ."

  "What did they say?"

  "Something about another village, near yours. It was destroyed. The mobs overran it. They didn't have a wall."

  Another village . . . destroyed.

  So, that's why those 'tourists' are here.

  Myster
y solved.

  Of course, I suspected this the whole time.

  Maybe I just didn't want to accept it.

  And Mike is right. We have a wall. That wall will buy our village a lot of time.

  After I left the jail, I sat down next to some farmer's carrot crop.

  I just sat there, for a long time. Thinking.

  Too much crazy stuff was happening to me at once.

  I'm only twelve, you know? And not only do I have to do homework, do my best in school—I also have to deal with annoying bullies like Max and his best friend, Razberry.

  Then, if that wasn't enough, I now have to cheer up Steve.

  And free Mike from jail.

  Also . . .

  I have to convince the elders to let Steve and Mike teach.

  So much to do.

  Why can't things just be easy?

  I'm starting to miss the simple days. The boring days.

  But it's like this:

  I want to become a warrior.

  So, I can't just freak out when faced with problems. Would a warrior do that? Would a warrior just complain about how confusing everything is?

  My village needs me. I must be strong right now.

  Steve and Mike must become our Combat teachers. The village needs both of them.

  You see, there are 150 students; even if I manage to get Steve back to normal, how can he teach that many at once? If Mike helps out, we can split the students into two classes.

  Why do I have to do all this stuff, anyway?

  Why didn't the elders think of recruiting Mike and Steve?

  Well, I know the answer to that. The older people in our village, they don't trust outsiders at all.

  Having outsiders as teachers . . . it's unimaginable to them. Such a thing has probably never crossed their minds.

  So . . . they're going to be very resistant to my idea.

  Sigh.

  I updated the 'Things To Do' list in my record book.

  Yes, the record books can do more than just track our scores and level. They're handy little things.

  MONDAY

  Urrrrggggg.

  That's a 'hurrggg' without an 'h' sound.

  It means, I'm so frustrated, I can't even properly 'hurrggg'.

  The mayor won't release Mike. No matter what. Mike's gonna be in jail for a long time.

  The mayor wants Mike to pay for his actions. The mayor said if he releases Mike so easily, then others might get the idea that they won't be punished for any crimes.

  So, Steve's super sad, and Mike's in jail.

  There's no way to get a combat teacher.

  The mayor did say, however, that he'd be willing to let Steve be a teacher.

  On one condition.

  Steve has to prove himself.

  He has to show the mayor and the elders that he has skill in combat.

  Obviously, that's not going to happen anytime soon. Not with Steve in depressed mode.

  Sigh.

  TUESDAY

  I had to suffer through another boring Combat class with Urf as the teacher.

  Of course, Steve's still moping.

  After school, Stump and I thought of everything we could to cheer him up.

  Stump baked him a cake.

  Steve ate it silently and went back to his bed.

  Sarabella and Aera even brought him some ice cream. Ghast tear swirl.

  As expected, he said it wasn't nearly as good as the ice cream on Earth.

  I honestly don't know what to do.

  His sadness is rubbing off on me, so . . . I don't feel like writing much today.

  WEDNESDAY

  It's really late.

  I'm writing because . . . I figured it out.

  I finally got Steve back to his normal self.

  It was something I'd never thought of, until now. This time, I really have to thank the mobs.

  The spiders, in particular.

  You see, tonight, while we were sleeping, another spider climbed up our house.

  And somehow, it got stuck on the eve of the house or something. The spider totally panicked.

  Squeak!

  Squeak squeak squeak squeak!

  There was a moment of silence (perhaps as the spider realized it was totally stuck) until:

  SQUEE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE . . .

  It was—without a doubt—the most annoying sound in the world.

  It was more annoying than Max's voice.

  It was more annoying than the kids at school today who asked me countless questions about building. As if I'm some kind of building genius now.

  The sound the spider made was so annoying, Steve actually jumped out of bed and looked out the window.

  "Jeez," he said. "Won't that thing shut up?!"

  "I've heard worse," I said. "About a month ago, spiders carried some zombies up onto our roof. Just to annoy us."

  "You poor villagers," he said. "You guys have to put up with this every night?"

  "Almost every night." I climbed out of bed. "If it's not the spiders squeaking, it's the zombies moaning. If it's not the zombies moaning, it's the slimes oozing around. Welcome to my life."

  This was when I had my idea.

  "And it's your life, too, Steve. It's gonna be like this every night, unless we find a way to fight off the mobs. Make them so afraid, they never leave whatever dark caves they came from."

  That did it.

  Steve let out a breath. His shoulders sagged. He stared at the floor. Then he took out his wooden sword and left my room.

  Moments later, the squeaks stopped. Perhaps the spider spotted Steve.

  Squeak?

  Cheeeeeee—ihhhh!

  WHUMP.

  Eeeeeehhhhhhhhh—!!

  THUD.

  And then, silence.

  When Steve came back into my room, he was almost smiling.

  "Much better," he said.

  Now was my time to strike.

  I knew I had to get him to agree to being a teacher while he was still in a good mood.

  "So, this means you'll be our teacher, right?"

  "Yeah." He paused. "I mean, I'm stuck in this world, right? I can't do anything about it, so . . . whatever, you know? I might as well help you guys out."

  Finally, I thought.

  Steve was his normal self again.

  But then, there was still a problem . . .

  "Now, you have to convince the mayor to let you be a teacher," I said.

  He gave me a funny look. "And how exactly do I do that?"

  "The mayor said you have to prove yourself. They don't want a noob teaching the class."

  "Got it," he said. "Tomorrow, tell the elders to meet at the wall, at the north gate. Okay?"

  "What are you going to do?" I asked.

  He smiled, but only slightly.

  There was a gleam in his eye.

  "Prove myself."

  THURSDAY

  When I woke up, Steve was rummaging through my supply chests.

  "Good morning," he said. "I'm taking some sand."

  "What for?"

  He gave me a stern look. "Do you want me to be your teacher or not?"

  "Okay, okay. Take whatever you need."

  "Good," he said. "Then I'm also taking an iron ingot, a piece of flint, some oak wood and some cobblestone. Oh, and also, your crafting table. Thanks."

  "What? What are you going to do with all of that stuff?"

  "You'll find out tonight," he said with a wink. "Make sure the elders are there, okay?"

  "Hurrrrr. Okay."

  After I arrived at school, I couldn't stop thinking about what Steve was going to do.

  Why did he need an iron ingot and a piece of flint?

  Also, what was the sand for?

  Later that day, I informed the elders and the mayor to meet at the north gate.

  The day seemed to take forever to end.

  Finally, night time arrived. I was standing next to Steve at the north gate.

 
; Soon, villagers began gathering around us, elders and blacksmiths, librarians and fishermen, and finally the mayor himself.

  They began talking in low tones. Whispers.

  "Rhurrr, what is Steve doing?"

  "Is he actually going outside?"

  "At night?!"

  "Hurrrrn, is he nuts?"

  Stump emerged from the confused crowd.

  "What's going on, Runt?"

  "I'm not sure," I said. "But I have a feeling we're going to have a new Combat teacher soon."

  "Hurrrrr, what are you talking about?"

  "Just watch."

  The noise from the villagers grew louder and louder.

  Steve glanced at them all, then stepped on the pressure plate that opened the wall's iron door.

  And then he went outside.

  Stump and I scrambled up the wall's ladders to watch what he was doing.

  The other villagers did the same. There must have been over five hundred villagers standing on the wall.

  At first, Steve simply stood out there, in the open plains.

  The sun sank lower and lower.

  Nothing happened for a long time . . . until mobs appeared in the distance. In the gloom.

  Zombies.

  Creepers.

  Even an enderman.

  Steve had no armor, and only a stone sword. Everyone thought he was done for.

  Just by looking at the poorly-equipped Steve, you couldn't image anything except the mobs turning him into mush.

  The creepers came for him first.

  With blinding speed, he cut each of them down. He leapt in the air before doing this and knocked the creepers back before they could explode.

  Strangely, he collected the gunpowder they dropped.

  The elder, Urf, wasn't too pleased with this.

  "What's he doing gathering their gunpowder?" he said. "He needs to run away! Those zombies are so close! Maybe I should go out there myself and show him how it's done!"

  "Oh, I can't watch this!" said the mayor, shielding his eyes.

  A girl was almost crying. "Those zombies are gonna get him! Steve!! Run!!"