Dory the Weaponsmith suggested that rather than wear the magazines on his belt, it’s best to put them at the bottom of his inventory list so he doesn’t have to worry about scrolling to equip them when a magazine runs out. Most players can access their lists in the blink of an eye, so he’ll be able to replace the magazines ultra-fast.
“Let’s go.” Only once he is at the door does he turn back to Zaena. “I’m serious, and if you aren’t up to it, that’s fine by me too, but I have to rescue her tonight. I just feel like it’s the right thing to do.”
Zaena raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you doing this because you love her?”
He clears his throat. “That’s not how I’d describe it. Tamana and I have been friends for a very long time, but romantically, we’ve never been linked.” Ryuk quickly remembers how he failed to ask her out and cringes at himself. “We’ve never dated.”
“Why not?”
“Because of all this – this world,” he halfway lies. “We were always having such a damn good time here that it really never came up.”
“So you do love her then?” Zaena’s eyes soften.
“What do you want me to say to that?”
She stands and approaches him. Her ghost limbs grab him by the front of his armor and pull him the rest of the way to her. “I want you to say that you love her, then I’ll help you,” she says with a mischievous grin.
“Are you … drunk or something?”
“I had the same number of shots as you. So maybe.” She laughs, but she doesn’t release him. “Consider it part of leveling up: come to grips with who you really are and how you really feel. Come to think of it, I think I had more shots than you. I saw Hiccup taking your shots for you.”
Ryuk is suddenly embarrassed. His face flushes red as he says, “Fine, I do love her then. Happy?”
She releases him immediately. “Good, let’s get going.”
They exit through the bookcase into the hostel’s entry way. Jim, the owner, stands immediately and walks around to the other side of the counter. He places his hands behind his back and asks, “Is there anything the lady and my young lord will be needing this evening?”
“Thanks, but we’re fine.” Ryuk returns his hood to his head. “We’re going out; if our guildmates, a blond-haired commoner and a cranky goblin come, please show them to the room.”
“Very well,” Jim calls after them.
The door slams shut and the two step into the streets.
“We’re actually not very far from their guildhall. Hiccup said that it would be this way,” she turns left, “and that it’s surrounded by the largest stone wall in the district. Lucky for us, I have ghost limbs.”
The Guild District is relatively quiet aside from the occasional conversation carried by the wind. Smoke from the chimney of a nearby blacksmith guild tickles his nostrils. It is by no means a cold night – it is rarely cold on the floating continent of Hyberborea, other than in the Klin Mountains – but he feels a chill anyway, possibly an effect of the alcohol leaving his system.
“That must be it,” Zaena whispers as they turn down a lane that leads away from the Bonsor River. A guildhall sheltered by walls that are at least three meters high is situated at the end of the cobblestone road. The rented guildhall is a bad choice if one wishes to maintain a low profile. It’s big, suspiciously imposing, and the alley that separates it from other guilds makes it easier to approach unnoticed.
Just to be sure, Ryuk checks the building stats and finds out that it is indeed the home of the Shinigami’s alias – the Ripazu – just like the fat guy told Hiccup.
“To the left,” Zaena says, “follow my lead.”
“Got it.”
Ryuk brings his marble gun up holds it ready. He’s not sure of how this is going to play out, and try as he might, his Extreme Focus skill just isn’t coming online. They reach the alley separating the guildhall and keep as far from the scattered lanterns lighting the lane as they can.
Using her ghost limbs, Zaena lifts herself to the top of the wall and crouches in the shadow of a spike-shaped merlon.
Zaena: Face the wall. I’ll grab you, but you’ll still have to help climb.
Ryuk: Got it.
She catches him under the arms like a nanny lifting a toddler, and he rappels up the wall. He crouches next to another spike and covers the courtyard below.
Zaena: It’s awfully quiet.
Ryuk: There.
He senses the two NPC sentries before they actually step into an arc of light behind the main gate. His hand goes to his marble gun, but he decides on his slingshot instead. He palms two knife marbles, loads one in the pouch and holds the other one tight with his pinkie and ring finger.
Zaena: Are you sure?
Ryuk breathes in, lets half out and waits for the first guard to turn to the entrance. He lets loose and the knife marble strikes the guard square in the throat.
Tonsil shot! Instakill!
The other guard goes down with Ryuk’s second shot.
Tonsil shot! Instakill!
Skill level up! +3 LUCK!
Skill: Tonsil Shot
Level Two: 1 in 11 chance of connecting.
Damage: 24% if enemy is less than level 30; 12% if enemy is greater than level 30.
Odds of instakill: 10%
Requirements for instakill: LUCK > 7
EXP comes but he swipes it away. Zaena gives him the thumbs up. “Amazing shots.” With that, she slowly lets herself down into the courtyard. Ryuk waits for her to settle and keeps his eye on the front door of the Shinigami’s rented guild quarters.
Zaena: Do you feel my ghost limb? Use it to slide down.
As before, he feels a small jolt of electricity as he touches it with his bare hands. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he crouches and closes his eyes. He concentrates on his breathing for a moment, and as he does, the inside of his eyelids begin to populate with the world in front of him.
His Extreme Focus and Magic Eye skills working in tandem, Ryuk keeps his eyes closed for a moment, taking in as much detail as he possibly can. A faint green energy appears at the center of the guild. He opens his eyes and it disappears, closes them and it appears again.
Skill level up!
Skill: Magic Eye
Level Four: A colored glow indicates that magical properties are present. Higher levels allow for more detail and access to the Wikipedia of arcane knowledge. A red outline signals that a hidden enemy is near. A yellow outline signals that an object is enchanted. A dark blue outline signals that necrotic magic is being used. A green outline signals that algomagic is being used.
Requirements: Level 8 Mage, LUCK > 6.
Ryuk: Algomagic inside.
Zaena: Got it. How many enemies?
Ryuk: Hard to tell. I sense several; then again, I’m only getting a slight read.
Zaena: Is Tamana in there?
Ryuk tries again to feel his way into the guild. His level is too low; he knows from his former avatar that Extreme Focus at a higher level could actually see into objects, around objects, through objects, and can note and interpret tiny changes in the environment.
I’m not that strong, he tells himself, I need to get closer.
With his eyes open now, he keeps to the shadows along the inner wall of the guild. His vision pane registers all sorts of minor details but his main focus is minute disturbances and impressions in the soil and the direction they lead. As he concentrates, a long scuff mark takes shape, almost like …
Someone was dragged.
He focuses completely on the trail to the exclusion of all else; nothing is as important as finding Tamana – he will follow the drag mark until …
… until it simply vanishes. The faint traces of footprints are still there, but no drag mark.
Zaena has all four swords out and is trying to cover his ass in all directions at once as Ryuk pauses to consider. He slows and controls his breathing, closes his eyes and expands his consciousness outward to search for any other sign of Tamana.
Nothing. Nothing. Still nothing … there! Like the last curling wisp from an extinguished cigarette, a tendril of white magic has made its way through the merest crack beneath a cellar door just two meters to the left of the guildhall entrance.
“It’s her,” Ryuk whispers, trying his best to contain his excitement, “Tamana is in that cellar.”
(0)__(x)
Zaena runs her hand along the lock holding the door down tight. Fashioned into the head of a griffin, it’s about the size of a cantaloupe.
Ryuk points his weapon at it. “Should I?” he asks.
“They’ll know we’re here,” she whispers, “are you sure?”
“I know she’s in there,” he says, excitement coursing through his veins.
“What if she’s not … ”
“She is, I know it,” he gulps. “I feel it.”
Zaena nods. “Do it, then. You shoot, I’ll grab the loot, and then we scoot. No fighting if we can avoid it.”
“Got it, and agreed. No fighting if we can help it.”
“Once I bring her out, we’ll climb there.” She points to the shadowed portion of the wall nearest to them. “I’ll go up first, then Tamana, then you.” Ryuk’s face tingles as she holds it for a moment. “Are you sure you can do this – that we can do this?”
“I’m sure,” he tells her.
“Good. Then blow the lock.”
The Thulean steps aside and Ryuk lets one go. The griffin lock and a good-sized chunk of door explodes into flinders; Zaena smashes through what’s left and sprints in.
Ryuk’s mouth is suddenly dry and his pulse pounds in his throat. He puts his back to the wall and shoots two marbles left and two to the right for some distraction and misdirection.
He steps out from the wall, turns, and angles his last three up onto the roof. He swaps out magazines as the marbles detonate one after the other; the cries of anger and alarm from inside are sweet music to his ears.
The Shinigami can cast algospells, he thinks, and a faint greenness prickles at the edge of his awareness.
There’s been lots of yelling and hollering, but so far no return fire, so he steps out again and puts an explosive black marble through every window he can see.
Fuck you! He arcs the last marble in the magazine onto the rooftop.
He’s inserting fresh magazine when Zaena bursts out of the cellar with Tamana slung over her shoulder, a manic look in the Thulean’s eyes.
“This her?” Zaena turns to show him her prize. “Is it!?”
His heart skips a beat when he sees Tamana’s bruised face and white hair matted with blood. Her stats appear and hardly notices them.
Tamana Nakamura Level 2 White Warrior
HP: 2/138
MANA: 0/79
ATK: 52
DEF: 19
MATK: 12
MDF: 38
LUCK: 3
“Tamana! Tamana!”
“No time! Take her, let’s GO!” Zaena drops handcuffed Tamana into his arms and leaps for the wall. She scales it, spots a sword-wielding Shinigami running for Ryuk’s position and perforates him with a swarm of flying steel.
From the guildhall, an incandescent ripple of magic sears through the grass and narrowly misses Ryuk. It blasts a meter-wide trail of destruction across the courtyard and out through the back wall of the complex.
“Hurry!” Zaena shouts. Ryuk jumps over the newly vitrified soil and hands Tamana up to the anxiously awaiting Thulean. He pops his magazine out and inserts the one with clear marbles. He aims at where the giant magic day-spoiler originated and zings one away.
“Freeze enemy!”
His simple request fails, but not necessarily to his disadvantage. A large ridge tears out of the ground and rips through the foundation of the Shinigami’s guild quarters, smashing into the wall, danger close.
Come on, come on…
Another blast of magical return fire gouges a smoking crater in the space Ryuk just vacated; a black-clad swordsman sprints around a corner and charges in, his katana raised for a killing blow. Ryuk pops him center of mass with a clear marble; a mutant sticker vine bursts out of his chest and wraps him like a mummy.
His scalp prickles as Zaena heaves him into the air. “Freeze enemy!” He fires another clear marble and his health drops by half. Backfired! “Kuso!”
An orb lifts out of the front of the courtyard with an old man in its center.
Dark Mage Level 35
HP: 590/590
MANA: 325/325
ATK: 19
MATK: 137
DEF: 166
MDF: 283
LUCK: 22
The bearded mage’s eyes are ablaze with hateful fire as a vortex of yellow energy spins from his shoulders down to his fingertips.
It’s him! The robed figure from the Natty Dread game! Ryuk fumbles the next words as the marble sails through the air. “Freeze ENEMY!”
Freeze ENEMY!
The clear marble connects and time stands still. Oddly enough, his party members are still able to move.
“We have to hurry!” he tells Zaena, “I don’t know how long we have!” He gulps.
Seeing Tamana lie there bound and bloodied gives him a sinking feeling in his chest. Still, they have her; she can be healed and most important is that she’ll never die in Tritania. The only real difference between an NPC and an RPC is the origin of their source code – NPCs are written; RPCs are grown.
“Ryuk!” Zaena slaps his cheek. “Cause some more distractions!” Tamana’s body lifts into the air and Zaena lowers her to the alley on other side of the wall. Refocused, Ryuk pops the magazine of clear marbles out, returns it to inventory, and inserts the last magazine of black marbles into his weapon.
The Natty Dread mage hangs suspended in his energy bubble – a giant, can’t miss target, and Ryuk lets two go right at him. The Mage’s force bubble neutralizes them completely. No explosions, no nothing.
“I’m going down now!” Zaena shouts.
“Hurry,” he tells her, “my marbles don’t seem to work on the mage and I have no idea how much time we have! Hurry!”
Ryuk switches to his magic slingshot. He loads a knife marble in, keenly aware of the fact that the mage is starting to reanimate within his sphere of energy as time undialates. As he pulls the pouch back and the marble forms its sharp blade. He stretches the bands as far as they’ll go and the slingshot warms. His muscles quiver and he strains to hold in place.
Come on, you fuckers.
“Let’s go!”
Ryuk relaxes the tension on the slingshot, crouches, and finds her ghost limb on the edge of the wall. As the mage comes back to life, he latches on, and rappels to the ground.
“You take her left, I’ll take her right,” he tells Zaena. “I don’t think either of us has the stamina to carry … ”
Zaena lifts Tamana onto her shoulder. “I’ll carry her,” she grunts, “you cover behind us.”
“Damn! Got it!” With Tamana slung in a fireman’s carry, the Thulean sprints away as if she was unencumbered. Ryuk struggles to keep up and at the same time watch their back for pursuers. They run through an alley towards the lane that leads away from the Shinigami’s place.
That’s odd. Ryuk stops for a moment and surveys their back trail. Why aren’t they coming after us?
“Shit, Ryuk, Keep moving, let’s go!” Zaena calls over her shoulder to him.
“Right!”
It doesn’t take long for them to arrive at the Mondegreen Hostel and the door swings open for them. Zaena drops Tamana onto one of the lobby sofas and places her hands on her knees as she catches her breath.
“Someone may be following us!” Ryuk blurts out to Jim the doorman. “Please, um, please help us!”
“No doubt.” From behind the reception desk, the hostelier produces an M-4 Carbine with the underslung M-203 grenade launcher. He pops in a Beta C-Mag and loads a beehive round in the grenade launcher as he hums The Major General’s Song. He chambers a round, powers up the optics, and lifts the sling over his head. Only then does he catch the strange look that panting Zaena is giving him.
“I’m an immiNPC,” he reminds them as he steps around the clerk’s desk. “You may wish to check my stats.”
Jim Dohrmahn Level 99
HP: 6753/6753
MANA: 2885/2885
ATK: 2058
MATK: 566
DEF: 1118
MDF: 1259
LUCK: 85
“Holy shit! How’d you manage that?” Ryuk asks.
“Long story for another time.” He nods to the bookcase that doubles as a secret door. “Get inside, and let me know if you need anything. If anything untoward occurs, I’ll call for backup.” A smile creeps across his long face. “And trust me, whoever is coming after you does not want me to call for backup.”
Ryuk lifts Tamana. “Do you do this for all your guests?” he asks as he heads to the bookcase.
“It’s one of the many services we here at the Mondegreen are happy to offer.” Jim keeps his post and gives him a soft nod. “Plus you paid double for your room; it’s the least I can do.”
(x)__(x)
Ryuk places Tamana on his bed, turns her to her side, and notices that there is a faint yellow magic radiating from the cuffs keeping her thin wrists together.
An enchanted object …
“We need Hiccup,” he says, “and fast. I don’t know exactly what these cuffs do, but I’m pretty sure they are preventing her from equipping her sword. They may be tracking her too. It’s okay, Tamana.” He uses the corner of the bed sheet to wipe her face. Her left eye is puffy and closed; dry blood is rimmed around her nostrils. Seeing her like this ignites a deep hatred inside Ryuk for the Shinigami. He momentarily gets the stupid notion to go back to their guildhall for some good old fashioned payback.
“I’ll message him.”
Zaena: Goblin, we need you. We rescued Tamana and she is here now, almost dead, with her wrists bound by magical cuffs.
Hiccup: First, the name is Hiccup. Second, WHAT THE FICK DID YOU JUST SAY? Read it again. Okay, I’m better now.
FeeTwix: I can’t believe you rescued her without us! My audience would have loved to see that happen!
Hiccup: Ignore him. We’ll be there in thirty minutes or so. We’re up twenty K in a game of Punch Chest. You wanted us to win bigly, right? Or is it big league? You want us to win, right?
Zaena: We need you here now. We don’t know what kind of cuff this is or if it has tracking properties.
Hiccup: Are there any inscriptions on it?
Ryuk rolls Tamana to her other side, so her cuffed wrists are now facing toward him. The handcuffs are bronze, the chain connecting them made out of a silvery metal. “Nothing,” Ryuk says. “Not even some Thulean.”
Zaena: Get here now, as in RIGHT NOW. Spawn here and leave FeeTwix there to finish the game of punch chest. I hesitate to say this, but we need your expertise!
Hiccup appears in a flash. “You guys really know how to ruin someone’s night, don’t you? And just for the record, one does not simply stop in the middle of a game a punch chest. You’re lucky as fick we were up by five. They’ll dock Twixy at least one point for my exit.” He nudges Zaena aside and plops his mechanical hand on Ryuk’s shoulder. “Step aside, Marbles, let Uncle Goblin take a looksee.”
Ryuk stands and crosses his arms over his chest, watching over Hiccup’s shoulder as the goblin checks the cuff. Finally, he scratches his ass and says, “Good news and bad news. The good news is that these cuffs don’t have tracking properties, as of yet. The bad news is that if they are away from their registered location for more than an hour or so, the tracking properties turn on. Luckily, the Mitherfickers have a thief, a particularly handsome, pink haired hunka-hunka burnin’ goblin – and I’m damn good at picking locks. In case you were wondering, as long as they’re on, she won’t be able to equip anything. She also isn’t able to message anyone.”
A small case appears on the bed and he opens it. “Also, you two are idiots for going at this alone. Fickin’ idiots.”
“It was … um, spur of the moment.” Ryuk bows his head in semi-contrition.
“Spur of the moment, huh?” he says as he takes out his tools. “Hitting the orc-house is spur of the moment, losing your chalupa in a game of Bet Your Penis is spur of the moment, this shit is unbelievably stupid. You should have at least brought a couple of healing potions.” He shakes his head. “I always thought of the Mitherfickers as a professional group of tweens with one seasoned statesman, at least that’s how I described our group to my cousin in Sotla, before Liz joined us. I definitely didn’t sign up for some in loco parentis role. Fick, where was I?”
“Never mind all that, Hiccup – just get her loose! And how many fucking cousins do you have?”
“Tsk-tsk. Language, Marbles, and don’t get your lacey pink panties in a wad. Regarding cousins? Who keeps track, really?” he says as he goes to work. “Last I checked, I had fifty. Maybe more. About a hundred nephews. Most are a bunch of fickwads. Marbles, ask the door guy to get us some Hopkins’ Holistic Healing Nostrums. Those potions cost a fick-ton, but it’ll heal her up and then some. Save the ‘then some’ for me.”
Zaena asks, “So Hopkins’ potions are better than the normal stuff?”
“Less filling, tastes great, and helps put the lead in your pencil!” Hiccup selects a lock pick and a tensioner, double checks they’re the ones he needs, and turns back to the cuffs. “Now get the stuff and stop distracting me!”
A knock at the door startles them all. Her short swords drawn, Zaena motions for Ryuk to open it. He does so and is greeted by Jim, who has a tray of various healing potions. “I thought you might find these of some small use. This is what we keep in stock.”
“Hopkins’ Holistic Healing Nostrum.”
Jim hands Ryuk a green bottle shaped like a grenade. “I will add it to your bill, if that’s all right with you.” With that, he smiles and turns away, the M-4 Carbine still slung across his back.
“Okay!” Ryuk rushes over to Hiccup with the healing potion. A straw appears on the bed and Hiccup says, “You know what to do.”
Zaena sits Tamana up, who immediately drops her head down. She angles her so Hiccup can still work on the cuffs yet Tamana is able to sit. Ryuk uncorks the healing potion, which fizzles, and retrieves the straw. He’s just about to put the straw in Tamana’s mouth when he hears Hiccup harrumph.
“Quality assurance purposes.” The goblin puckers his lips.
“Seriously? Let her drink it first!”
“Fine, fine, Marbles,” he grumbles, “have it your way.”
Ryuk places the straw between her parched lips. “Drink, Tamana.” Her throat twitches as her lips go to work. The blood on her face begins to pixilate as the bruises disappear and a halo of light settles around her head.
“Ryuk?” Tears form at the corner of her eyes. “It’s you.”
Chapter 19: Digital memories
“There, got it!” Hiccup pops the cuffs off and stands. “These fickers will get us in a lot of trouble if we don’t get them the hell out of here.”
“What do you want us to do?” Ryuk asks, completely panic-stricken.
“Zaena, tell the hostelier whatever the fick his name was to arrange an EBAYmazon express dragon to pick this up and take it, oh where’s a good place to send it? … I know! Send it to the Cape of Chukchis, to this dragon I know that goes by the name of Mirror – that’ll give those dirty chuckleficks a run for their rupees! I’d better write her a letter.”
The Mitherfickers’ designated lockpick scuttles to the writing desk packed into the corner of the room. He selects a sheet of Hostel Mondegreen writing parchment and produces a fluorescent green anti-zombie tactical survival pen. Using the seat as his writing surface, Hiccup scribbles a quick message in the vertical Thulean script.
Once he has finished, Zaena ghost limbs the scroll into the air and gives it a quick read. She stifles a laugh. “You want her to swallow it?”
“You know, Liz, that message was supposed to be private. And yes, I want her to swallow it, just to really give the Shinigami their money’s worth if they try to track Marbles’ main squeeze over there.”
“My what?” Ryuk grunts.
“And why did you call the dragon sweetheart?” Zaena asks.
“That’s none of your goddamn business!”
“I remember you,” Tamana says softly. “You’re the goblin from our guild. Hiccup? Or was it Burp?”
“Fick me to tears.” Hiccup throws his hands up in the air. “Looks like I just became a babysitter of four instead of three,” he mumbles as he returns to the bed and grabs the handcuffs and the healing potion. “If I had a rupee for every time someone called me a bodily function … ”
She gives him a confused look.
“For your information, Tammy, Hiccup is a shortened version of the ancient Thulean word, hiccupanaratapana, which means, ‘a sword which has had one side of its hilt broken off yet has maintained its balance and is actually a better weapon because of it.’ Another interpretation could be: ‘a sudden change that seems like it will greatly affect you but doesn’t turn out as bad as it seems.’ Kind of like our little shitshow here, and if I might add, my addition to the group.” He clears his throat and straightens an invisible tie. “All right, I need to get back to Twixy to make sure he doesn’t lose all our fickin’ money. We were up, bigly, and I’d like to see it stay that way. Have the cuffs and the message delivered and Ryuk … ”
“Yes?”
“Prepare my bed. I’ll need more pillows than that and I want the bed furthest away from the Thulean, just in case she tries something funny.”
“If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead,” Zaena reminds him.
“Good to know. See you kiddos in a bit.” With a middle finger salute, Hiccup dematerializes, the healing potion gripped tightly in his free hand.
(0)__(0)
With the goblin gone, Ryuk returns his attention to Tamana. His words run together as he explains who Zaena is and their guild’s efforts to find Tamana. He hardly gives her a moment to respond with anything aside from a nod. He’s never this garrulous, but seeing her has filled his heart with hope. The pain of watching his best friend die still scrabbles at his consciousness, but it’s easier to ignore now that she’s here.
Zaena reenters the room. “The package will be picked up in five minutes or less. I’ll, um … ” She glances from Ryuk, who is on the floor sitting on his knees, to Tamana. “I’ll join the others and give you two some privacy.”
“It’s okay … ” Tamana starts to say, but Zaena is gone before she can finish her reply.
“Sorry, I’ve been rambling too,” Ryuk tells her. “I want to know exactly what happened.”
Something flashes across Tamana’s eyes. Her brow furrows and she bites her lip, reliving the memory in an instant. “I logged out, you know, right after we beat those trolls. I was in my dorm room and the walls started to come apart. A gyunsakhai, remember those things?”
“How can I forget land dragons?” They’d fought several in Ultima Thule. Wingless and always bad-tempered, the creatures were an amalgamation of dragon, giraffe, and hippo.
“One tore through the wall of my dorm room. I started running and made it outside, but then it burst out the window and crash-landed on the streets below. I saw it eat someone! I was trying to message you, I think I messaged you.”
“You did.”
“It chased me and I thought I could kill it with the subway train. Stupid, I know, but I just had this feeling that I could make it to other side before it did and kill it.”
“But how did you know the train would come at that time?”
“I take that train twice a week; I’ve memorized the schedule. So I tried, I leapt and … ” She tries to recall how it played out. “I didn’t feel a thing. I just woke up on the chaise in our guild, like I was having an in-game dream or something. As soon as I did, someone pulled a black bag over my head and struck me with a blunt instrument, which knocked me down to two or three HP. I was cuffed, and lifted over someone’s shoulder. As all this was happening, prompts from the Proxima Company came to me, letting me know that I successfully had become an RPC. Reborn Player Character … ” Tears return to her eyes. “I still can’t believe it, I still feel like I can just lift my finger and log out! Imagine what it’s like to not be able to log out!”
“I can only imagine.”
“As I was being dragged away, a video of the final minutes of my life auto-played and I saw, through other people’s live iNet feeds as well as the subway surveillance feeds that I jumped in front of the train. Then my own iNet feed played, showing me push through the crowd, jump, and ...” she rubs her hand over her eyes, “getting struck by the train. It was horrible!”
After a moment of silence Ryuk says, “I should probably tell you about the research Hajime has done regarding real world attacks that stem from the Proxima Galaxy. All have come from Tritania, specifically from resetters.”
“All are coming from Tritania?”
“That’s right, and you aren’t the only one who was attacked. I too had one of these experiences. I was in my bedroom when a Thulean warrior appeared and attacked me. If it hadn’t been for Hajime, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Has anything happened since?”
“No, it hasn’t. But NPCs are trying to come to our world, and something about being a resetter is triggering it. We need to speak to Sophia, or anyone in the upper echelons of the Knights of Non Compos Mentis about this. They’ll know what to do.”
Tamana nods in agreement. “We’ll have to get to Polynya first, and I’m thirteen levels away.”
“There’s no way to get a message to her?” He shakes his head incredulously. “Surely there’s a way for us to do that.”
“We need to do this in person. It is too sensitive to try to send via carrier, or through another player. No, we need to get there.”
As she fixes her white hair, pulling it back over her elven ears, a question floats to the front of Ryuk’s mind. “While you were imprisoned, did you see or hear anything that could help us fight the Shinigami? I know you said your head was covered, but did you maybe hear something?”
Tamana considers this for a moment. “The guild is a mixture of RPCs and a few mid-level NPCs. I heard one of them speaking about that. They didn’t really say much though, and I was in and out because of my low HP. One of them did mention something about the basement of the guild, and a powerful source of energy there. Whatever that is, it may be fueling the Shinigami.”
“Then we should destroy it,” Ryuk says firmly. “We should do what they least expect us to do. They expect us to run, and if we run, they will chase us like dogs. But what if we level up and then bring the party to them? There’s five of us now and you’re a healer and a warrior.”
Tamana’s eyes soften. “Something has changed about you.”
He feels embolden by the way she now looks at him. “We have Hiccup, a Shield Thief; FeeTwix, a Berserker Mystic; and Zaena, an Assassin Brawler. Now we have you, a White Warrior – it’s a well-rounded guild if you think about it. About the only thing we don’t have is someone exclusively casting magic, but my skills make up for that, at least a little. Let’s turn the tables on them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s go after the Shinigami and do so on our own accord. It is the only way to emphasize the difference between our guilds. We play to our strengths, and our strength should be the patented sneak attack due to our low levels. They won’t be expecting us; they’ll be out looking for us.”
Tamana nods. “If that’s what you think we should do, I’m in. If we can figure out what is going on and why resetters are being attacked by NPCs in the real world, it’ll help everyone, both here and in the world out there. I don’t think it is a stretch at all to say the Shinigami are behind it.”
“Let’s go then, now.” He stands, ready for anything.
“Now?” Tamana laughs. “Tomorrow, Ryuk, I need to rest. That’s another thing about being an RPC – suddenly, I have to rest in-game and I need to eat whereas before, those things didn’t really matter as much. Speaking of which, I’m starving. The only thing they fed me was some terrible-tasting broth.”
“I’ll tell the others to bring us something and the concierge must have some snacks for sale. That settles it. Tonight, we rest. Tomorrow we’ll level and armor up, and tomorrow night, we’ll bring the fight to the Shinigami.”
Ryuk turns to the door.
“Last question: did you ever come up with a name for our guild?”
He hesitates for a moment.
“What?”
“The Mitherfickers,” he says, and surprisingly, it doesn’t pain him much to do so. “Our guild’s name is the Mitherfickers.”
Chapter 20: A puppetless puppetmaster
Kodai silently follows Gorira through the door to the back office of the Hinomaru soapland in Yokohama. The day has not progressed well, and the trip to Tachikawa to personally survey the damage done by the American airmen has added nothing to it.
A pigtailed eighteen-year-old sitting on an extra sukebe isu – a pervert stool – leaps to her feet as he enters, and bows deeply.
“I do not pay you to sit on your shiri!” Kodai kicks the stool and it flips down the hallway and smacks into a shelf stacked with cans of nuru gel.
“Hai!” The young woman scrambles to retrieve a rag and begins scrubbing the nearest surface she can find.
A soapland is a uniquely Japanese combination of bathhouse and brothel, and the back office is a perfect example of what goes on behind the scenes. From industrial-sized boxes of condoms to mundane supplies such as toilet tissue and disinfectant – everything needed to run the business is kept on hand. A fresh load of laundry starts up in the adjacent room.
This is yet another one of Kodai’s additions.
The previous manager outsourced all of the laundering, which was incredibly stupid. Why fork over yen for a third party to do laundry when Hinomaru has no less than four girls on the clock at all times?
A chime sounds and a red light on the wall flashes, interrupting Kodai’s brooding. The holoscreens on the manager’s desk flash and display the feed from the front room.
Kodai takes a seat and watches as the new manager he’s hired as of today greets a gaijin customer, politely instructing the thick-necked gaijin to remove his shoes. Kodai hears a door shut as the woman he has just chastised steps into the bathroom to freshen up before greeting the patron.
“Rooms.” Three of the screens in front of Kodai change, showing a bird’s eye view of the rooms that are currently in use.
In the first two rooms, a man lies nude on a massage table as a woman slathered in nuru gel slides herself up and down his body. The soapland experience in the third room has just begun; the man perches on the pervert stool as a bored-looking young woman attends to his personal hygiene with soft hands and a removable showerhead.
The young woman unsuccessfully stifles a yawn.
Hiring college dropouts and pretty girls from the countryside still makes good economic sense, but the high turnover and low morale always manages to bite him in the ass. One day when it does become more economical, he’ll hire humandroids for the job…
“Hey,” he calls over to Gorira. The big man quickly approaches him and peers over his shoulder. Kodai taps on the screen. “See yawning beauty here? Have the new manager handle this, now.”
Gorira fires off a message to Okami, the new manager, who then fires off a message to the woman. Kodai watches in the live feed as she suddenly feigns excitement and enjoyment.
“Better.” He stands from the desk.
As Kodai moves towards the door to the basement, he eyes a handwritten, heart-shaped, pink posterboard sign that reads: Did you check for stains? Are they all gone? Make sure the towels are clean! A kawaii drawing of a happy young girl with her thumbs up is tacked to the bottom of the reminder.
He waits for Gorira to open the door, and he descends into the basement. A single LED bulb at the base of the stairs provides the only light; the muffled sobs of Meosa, the soon-to-be former manager of Hinomaru, the only sound.
Kodai enters the room and nods at one of his triggermen. After he inserts a pair of foam earplugs and dons a pair of latex gloves, the man hands him a suppressed, small-caliber handgun. Gorira takes his place on the opposite side of the door and puts his fingers in his ears; the triggerman does likewise.
Kodai steps onto a blue tarp, in the center of which former manager Meosa is naked and duct-taped to a pervert stool. Tear tracks moisten his cheeks; his fear-filled eyes are wide above the red rubber ball gag that’s encrusted with his snot.
As Kodai raises the weapon, an acrid yellow puddle forms around the base of the stool and he grimaces in disgust. Gorira and the triggerman avert their eyes, embarrassed to witness Meosa’s cowardice and loss of face – when all that is left is for one to die, one should at least die well.
Even with the suppressor, the report in the enclosed room is surprisingly loud.
The subsonic .22 caliber hollow point bullet enters Meosa’s skull but does not exit; instead, it ricochets through his brain tissue and gives him a more merciful death than he deserves. Other than the shameful loss of bladder control and a small trickle of blood around the entrance wound, there is almost no mess, of which Kodai approves.
He considers the now empty meat sack for a moment. After clearing his throat, he hands the weapon to the triggerman and motions for Gorira to follow him up.
(0)__(0)
Kodai is ushered into the back of his hostess bar in Shinjuku.
He goes through the kitchen, where a cook batter dips chicken for frying and into the main room, lit by dim red lights and tea candles floating in red liquid. He stops at the bar, and moves into the shadows and exhaled vapor of the pollute area.
First introduced to Japan about twenty years ago, pollutes quickly replaced cigarettes as a favorite Japanese inhalant. The fact that they are designer intoxicants in a land defined by its conspicuous consumption only made them more popular. The ones offered in Kodai’s bars and clubs are of the strictly legal variety – of which there are many – but the real money is in the illicit trade of banned pollutes.
A Nikka whiskey is placed in front of him and he takes a sip from it, savoring its smoothness. With his glass in hand, Kodai turns to the front of the hostess bar. He spots Sarah immediately – hard not to – and watches as she playfully pours a glass of champagne for a salaryman still in his work clothes.
As Kodai takes another sip from his whiskey, a twinge of jealousy makes him tense his hands. He sets his whiskey down on a coaster and motions the bartender over. “Pollute mask.” The bartender bows. It takes almost no time to produce a pollution mask shaped like an anime skull with green polypropylene lenses for eyes and the BAPE brand label in about the same place where forty minutes earlier, Kodai served Meosa with his separation package.
The bartender feeds the pollute tube to an adjustable hook that keeps it free from the bar top. Kodai places the mask over his head and a cute bunny appears on the insides of the mask’s lenses. The bunny bows repeatedly as it explains to Kodai how to use the mask and asks if he’d like to sync the mask with his iNet feed.
He declines.
Kodai doesn’t sync his feed with anything if he can help it, as doing so is a surefire way to have one’s data tapped.
A meter appears on the right hand side of his pane of vision. The bunny starts to ask a question regarding the type of experience he’d like, but Kodai silences him by saying aloud, “I want something to calm me.”
An hourglass appears over the bunny’s head as it interprets his request. A few seconds later, a single option appears: Dior Aeolian Deposit.
“Fine.”
The meter on the right adjusts the dose. After it reminds Kodai that he can adjust it manually, or by syncing his iNet feed, the experience begins.
Inhale, exhale.
With the mask over his face, Kodai experiences a brief moment of calm, which is, of course, interrupted by his disappointment in the outcome of his day.
He’s losing control, which is something that plagues him in a way that reaches to his very core. Inhale, exhale and relax, he reminds himself, things are going according to plan. He thinks back to the proceedings of the day and a slight grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. He is just about to manually up the dosage when Sarah approaches him.
She reaches him before he can take the mask off, places her elbows on the bar top and leans forward in a way that arches her back end.
Sarah is in a sheer black dress tonight that barely covers the cheeks of her ass. Criss-crossed spaghetti straps over her chest keep her funbags from spilling out. The black choker collar around her neck is accented by a small trinket shaped into a diamond studded spade, and she wears long earrings which dangle to the bottom of her neckline.
“Do you mind if I have a puff?” she asks.
“I don’t normally share.”
“I don’t normally ask a client to share.”
“Fair enough.” Kodai unclips the mask from behind his head and hands it to her. The action of taking the mask off overwhelms his senses for just a moment – suddenly, he’s back in the dimly lit club and even with the dark spaces, color has returned to everything. An image of Meosa’s face and the trickle of blood flashes in his mind’s eye. It disappears as quickly as it came.
Without strapping the pollute mask to her head, mostly to avoid messing up her hair, Sarah takes three fast puffs. On her final exhale, she turns to Kodai. “Is there something bothering you?” she asks.
“My brother,” he says in Japanese.
“Your what?” she asks over the loud music.
He switches to English. “My business. Every time I get a leg-up, something makes sure to take my knees out from beneath me.”
“Have another hit,” she tells him.
He obliges, takes the mask from her and inhales deeply. A thought comes to him, “What do you call a puppetless puppetmaster?”
Sarah moves closer to him and motions for him to bend towards her. Once he has done so, she says in a voice just above a whisper, “If it’s control you want, Kodai, you can control me, any way you want.”
He shifts away from her and cocks an eyebrow. “You’d like that?”
She nods. “I would.”
“Why?”
“It’s what I like.” She brushes a single curl of hair out of her face.
“What happens if I get out of control?” Kodai grabs her wrist and pulls her to him. For a moment, they stare pupil to pupil and to his surprise, she doesn’t look away.
“That’s up to you,” she finally says. A hostess in a blue dress passes them and quickly averts her eyes away.
“Why do you trust me?” Kodai asks after taking another small hit off his pollute mask. “I’m dangerous.”
She laughs softly. “Danger is in the eye of the beholder.”
“I’m not familiar with that phrase.”
“Nevermind.” Sarah’s visage morphs into a wolfish grin. “You’ve had a long night, haven’t you?”
“I have.”
“Then let’s leave. You go first and I’ll follow.”
Enchanted by the look in her eyes, Kodai slowly nods his head. “Got it.”
“We’ll go to your place.”
“Of course.”
“And then what will happen?” she asks.
“I’ll watch you undress, shower, go to the … ” He clears his throat. “I’ll watch you do whatever I tell you to do.”
“Fine, I like the sound of that.” She turns and glances back at him over her shoulder. “As long as it helps you clear your head.”
Chapter 21: Rilakkuma pancakes on the fly
First thing in the morning, Ryuk vows, that’s when he’ll log back in to join Tamana and his guildmates. Sure, he could stay in Tritania using his Somnium skip box, but it’s late in the real world, and there’s something about one’s own bed that the digital world just can’t replicate. Besides, Tamana needs some rest. Now that she’s an RPC, she has to sleep.
His haptic rig powers down and he takes off his NV visor. He yawns, contemplates moving to the living room to tell Hajime the good news, and thinks otherwise. Even if he protests, Hajime will insist that he eats breakfast; Ryuk can tell him then.
“Hajime?” he whispers, just to be sure that the humandroid isn’t seated in a dark corner of his room meditating. No one answers.
He stands, yawns again, and over iNet, he instructs the lights in his room to dim ever-so-slightly. Once they’ve done so, he goes for the small box on his desk. Domo-kun rocks the front of the box of ListerCope Winter Fire Spearmint BrushFast, and as Ryuk opens it, a message appears on his iNet desktop offering him a coupon on his next purchase of ListerCope.
He’s seconds away from swiping it away when FeeTwix’s avatar, rich boy gloves, golden hair and all hops down in front of the box and shoots him a thumbs up. “Hello there, honorable oral hygiene enthusiasts in the Metro Tokyo urboplex! Mention #FeeTwixRox at checkout and take an additional 10% off!” the little avatar tells him in Japanese. “Arigato gozaimasu!” It then bows repeatedly.
Is he really that popular? Ryuk considers this for a moment. The ad probably just targeted me because I’m a Tritania regular. He swipes the message away, simultaneously reminding himself that he’d better watch what he says in front of FeeTwix.
After removing the plastic from the BrushFast kit, Ryuk places the mouth guard in and it goes to work, quickly dissolving as it cleans his teeth and freshens his breath. He climbs into his bed and pulls a single blanket up to his shoulders. The lights above him morph to a subtly maroon color and slowly fade off.
He selects the latest episode of Flight Feet,フライトフィート, and picks up where he left off. An epic forest battle between Attla spiders and a guild led by a busty blue-haired elf plays out across his eyelids, and it only takes a second for his thoughts to drift somewhere else.
Tamana.
Seeing her face and the rapid recovery as she drank the healing potion made everything worthwhile. Even though he never dwells on it, she was his only friend in Tokyo. The thought that she’s dead still pains him, but at least she is alive in Tritania, a world he can visit whenever he likes.
Ryuk opens his eyes. A wave of black sluices across his wall as his lids grow heavy and slumber carries him away.
(0)__(0)
A breakfast prompt awakes Ryuk.
He selects the Rilakkuma-inspired pancake set and rolls to his side. His iNet system comes to life, providing him with everything from the weather to the news. Notifications on the lower left-hand pane of his vision tell him that the Mitherfickers are rich in rupees and that FeeTwix has already logged in.
He sits up, rubs his eyes, and quickly views a replay of the game Hiccup and FeeTwix played with the bards last night. So that’s Punch Chest, huh? Reviewing at ten times the speed doesn’t make the dialogue any clearer, but it isn’t dialogue he’s after; Ryuk simply wants to be caught up.
Hiccup disappears, likely to see to Tamana in their hostel, and reappears.
Zaena materializes just as more rupees are wagered. The bards lose everything, accuse Hiccup and FeeTwix of cheating, and challenge them to a duel. FeeTwix mows them down with some sort of submachine gun, collapses from his life bar penalty, and is helped back to the hostel by Hiccup and Zaena.
All in a night’s work. Ryuk can’t help but chuckle.
After changing and putting on his black hooded sweatshirt, Ryuk enters the living room, determined to make breakfast conversation short as he needs to log back in. Still, there’s something he’d like to say to Hajime.
“Have you thought more about the difference between Kodai and you?” The humandroid goes with a question rather than ohayō gozaimasu.
Ryuk bows his head. “Sorry, I’ve been preoccupied. Hajime … ”
“Yes?” The humandroid flips the pancake and finally makes eye contact with Ryuk.
“I want to thank you for inspiring me. I still don’t know exactly what your oblique card from yesterday meant, but by contemplating on it, I was able to develop a strategy and … ” He smiles. “I, we, rescued Tamana last night. The Thulean and I. I thought of the differences between the Shinigami and our guild and how to emphasize them. I figured the best way forward was to play our differences and do something unpredictable.”
Hajime nods, clearly impressed. “So rather than gather intel, you went for it, huh? The ultimate quest is really progressing.”
“I just knew it was the right thing to do and seriously, we were lucky, everything played out in a way and sure, we barely got away, but we did get away and now Tamana is with us and seriously, I need to log in. We’re going to level up all day and take it to the Shinigami.”
“I know she’s back and you are experiencing joy because of this, but I think there is still more to discover regarding the friction between you and your older brother.” Hajime walks over to the table and places a pancake on the plate in front of Ryuk.
“I get it, I really do. I know the difference between us and how to emphasize it. Easy – acknowledge it and move on.” Ryuk tears in the pancake and stuffs a large piece into his mouth. “I’ve got to hurry, Hajime, Tamana and the others are waiting. I’ll catch you up later,” he assures the humandroid.
Hajime offers him a skeptical look.
“What?” Ryuk asks with his mouth full of pancake. He chews and swallows hard. “Okay, differences between my brother and me, um, here goes: he’s a thug who went to NYU who is better than me at most things and who is trying to follow in my father’s footsteps. That about sums it up.”
“It would be interesting if one of those things wasn’t true. It may even break the power he holds over you. Just think about it.”
Ryuk’s jaw drops open. “He didn’t finish, did he?”
Hajime sits back in his chair. “How should I know?”
“You obviously know. You can access his transcripts!”
“And you can’t?”
“Of course I can’t. That stuff is private. Universities just don’t release them, especially in a place like America. People would sue.”
The humandroid considers this for a moment. He takes his hair tie out and tightens his small ponytail before putting it back on.
“Well?” Ryuk asks, on the edge of his seat now with suspense and a burning urge to finish breakfast and log in.
“You could ask me to call in a favor … ”
“Would you?”
Hajime shrugs. “I already did.”
“So I’m right, aren’t I? Kodai didn’t graduate from NYU.”
“Yes, you are right, but it shouldn’t have taken artificial intelligence to goad you along until you came to this realization.”
“You’re saying I should have asked before?”
“That, or you should have looked into it yourself. Finding a person’s transcript in the age of iNet isn’t difficult.”
Ryuk grimaces. “He’s given me so much shit about going to college, and to think he didn’t even finish!”
“That may be why he has given you so much shit, as you put it.”
After another bite of his pancake, Ryuk pushes himself away from the table. “I need to go.” He bows at Hajime. “Thanks again for helping me.”
He motions to Ryuk’s plate. “Before you go, please, check today’s oblique card.”
Ryuk moves his plate to the side to find a notecard: Faced with a choice, do both.
Chapter 22: Dirty Dave’s Armor and Weapons Depot
Ryuk ignores the feedback as he takes shape in his avatar. He has picked up right where he left off, in their shared room in the Mondegreen Hostel.
Hiccup, clad only in a navel ring and leopard print jockstrap lies on the bed opposite Tamana. His blanket is wadded around his ankles and his mechanical fingers brush the floor. He snores like a congested heifer, and the unmistakable miasma of l’air du Goblin permeates the room.
After a quick check, he swipes the Mitherfickers’ stats away.
Ryuk Matsuzaki Level 8 Ballistics Mage
HP: 270/270
ATK: 71
MATK: 94
DEF: 54
MDF: 37
LUCK: 10
FeeTwix Fajer Level 12 Berserker Mystic
HP: 336/336
ATK: 89
MATK: 27
DEF: 63
MDF: 32
LUCK: 13
Hiccup Level 10 Shield Thief
HP: 425/425
ATK: 70
MATK: 13
DEF: 101
MDF: 48
LUCK: 9
Zaena Morozon Level 12 Brawler Assassin
HP: 357/357
ATK: 91
MATK: 8
DEF: 88
MDF: 24
LUCK: 14
Tamana Nakamura Level 2 White Warrior
HP: 138/138
MANA: 79/79
ATK: 52
DEF: 19
MATK: 12
MDF: 38
LUCK: 3
FeeTwix: It’s about time you showed up. We took a room on the top floor with a view of the Bonsor River. It’s a room normally reserved for the wait staff, but it definitely did the trick. I had some Sotlian macaroons delivered via an EBAYmazon dragon and … well, let’s just say that they work exactly as advertised. We’ll be down in a few minutes. Wake the goblin up.
Ryuk looks to Tamana, smiling down at her as she gently rests with her hands over her chest. She’s in a nightgown, with long sleeves and a collar of embroidered lace. She senses his presence; her eyes open and they settle on him.
He takes a knee. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” She yawns and pushes some of her silvery white hair out of her face. A halo radiates around her head for a moment and settles. As she sits up, she quickly draws her hair back into a tight ponytail.
“Actually … ” Tamana lets her hair drop and quickly braids the sides. She accesses a golden hair clip from her inventory list and secures the end of the braid. Concern flits across her face as she braids the other side. “I just remembered a dream I had last night – well, not a dream, more of a nightmare.”
“What happened?”
“There was a fight, a huge battle, and all of us were there. Just as we were about to kill the last of them, you turned on us. You killed each of us individually, and you saved me for last.” She gasps. “You blew my head off, even as I begged you not to.”
“I’d never do that!” Ryuk reaches for her hand and squeezes it. “You know I’d never do that, I’d never betray you.”
“I know, I know.” She takes her hand from his and stands. As she does, her nightgown disappears and her leather armor forms, complete with large golden epaulets with white sparkly tassels. “It was just a nightmare,” she assures him. “You’re right.”
“You know I wouldn’t do that, never to you.” He wants to tell her about how much he cares for her and how he’d do anything for her, especially now, especially after losing her in the real world, but as he steels himself to finally bare his soul, Hiccup sunders the moment with a foul and feculent blast from his nether cheeks.
The goblin startles awake, leaps from the bed, and falls flat on his face. His eyes widen, his nostrils flare, and a berserker’s hand axe appears in his mechanical hand as he fights his way to his feet.
“Holy fickin’ shit!” he bellows as he spins around. “Who fickin’ did that?”
Tamana giggles and pinches her nose as she retreats to the far side of the small room.
Damn goblin, Ryuk thinks as Hiccup checks behind himself for any collateral damage.
“Shit,” the goblin turns to Ryuk, “that was me, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, you farted yourself awake like a mangy dog.”
“It was those fickin’ lemon pepper dragon wings, I tells ya. I had some more last night, midnight snack if you will, after handing it to those pussywillow bards.” He wipes his hands together. “Welp, I’ll be down the hall in the Little Goblins’ room for just a few moments. Marbles, go ahead and tell the guy that runs the place that I’d like some brekky, Konakhchani Rohva, if he has it, and I’m pretty sure he does.”
“And what is that exactly?” Ryuk asks.
“Caramelized hog feet. Tell him to crack some raw dove eggs over it. Sotlian crow eggs would be better, but they’re not in season right now.”
Tamana cringes.
Hiccup bristles. “Look, Miss Macrobiotic – if you don’t like what I eat, don’t get any – but spare me the judgmental icky-icky face and just get whatever healthy trendy cruelty-free vegan diet food is currently in vogue.”
The door opens outward. FeeTwix and Zaena enter, holding hands. Hiccup rolls his eyes and steps out to perform his toilette.
“Great Googly-Moogly!” the Swede exclaims as his nose wrinkles and his eyes water. “I’d ask what that smell is, but our pink-haired buddy was letting those rip all night!”
“Twick you, Fixy!” The goblin calls over his shoulders. “Shit. You know what I mean!”
“Is it safe to breathe?” Zaena asks after the goblin is a good five meters away.
Feetwix nods and looks to Ryuk. “Did you check the guild’s coffers? Fifty thousand rupees, thank-you-very-much. At one point, we were up eighty thousand, but he-who-shall-not-be-named bet a third of it on a ponytail race – which should seriously be illegal because those races are pretty fucked up. Still, we have enough to get some healing potions and better armor. Also, one of my fans has extended a line of credit to me. He’s a banker in Valhalla, by the way, so if we’re over any, he can hook us up.”
“I was hoping not to get involved with in-game banking,” Ryuk says.
Zaena clears her throat. “Same here, but if we’re going with your plan, we need all the help we can get.”
“You know about my plan?”
“I told them,” says Tamana, “after they returned last night.”
“And you guys are up for it?”
“Surprise attack the Shinigami at their rented guildhall? You bet your ass we are.” FeeTwix points at his blue eyes. “My viewership breached one million last night. Crazy numbers, really. And that’s just live viewers. People love watching Hiccup gamble, it seems. The replays alone have already been viewed three million times in less than twenty-four hours, and the sponsors are going insane.”
A thought occurs to Ryuk, something he hasn’t pondered before. “Your viewers don’t know of our plan to bring the fight to the Shinigami?”
FeeTwix scoffs. “Of course they don’t!”
“Did you see any real world players in their guild? They’re all NPCs or RPCs, aren’t they?”
“There was the one commoner in the group that attacked me in the forest,” Zaena turns to Ryuk, “the one that looked like you. But he wasn’t at their guild last night. We would have definitely seen him. He may have simply been a magic-wielding mercenary.”
“How would that explain the fact he was using my face?”
She shrugs. “Maybe he found what you look like in a guild registry or something.”
“Still, couldn’t the Shinigami use your feed to find us, to track us?” Ryuk asks.
“It’s easy. If they find us, we’ll simply respawn back here and I’ll cut the feed.” FeeTwix rubs his hands together. “They don’t know where we are staying. If it helps, we can book another hostel or two as respawn points, just to throw them off if they do track us down. In fact, that’s a damn good idea. Let’s go,” he tells Zaena, “and get another place.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jim the hostelier calls from the hallway outside of their room. FeeTwix and Zaena step aside to let him in.
Their host is stylishly accoutered in a freshly-pressed tuxedo, and his face is shaved baby-bottom smooth. “This hostel is warded with algomagic,” he informs them, “a powerful spell cast by the leader of the Knights of Non Compos Mentis.”
Ryuk turns to Tamana and watches as she says, “Sophia.”
“Why yes,” says Jim, “I should have assumed you knew her considering both of you were once part of her guild, I’m given to understand.”
Tamana nods.
Jim gives her a twitchy smile. “Indeed, but as I was saying – and I beg your pardon most humbly for intruding, but the door was open and I suspect that you will find this information useful, despite my lack of proper doormanship.”
“Go on,” says the Swede.
“This establishment is a sanctuary guildhall for all of our paying guests for the duration of their stay. If you die and respawn here, your person is sacrosanct and inviolate within the confines of our most humblest of humble abodes.” He dusts a fleck of something off his shoulder.
“So if we die and respawn here, no one can follow us, right?” Ryuk asks.
“Precisely. These are all precautions, mind you, and I inform you of them so that you may better formulate your plans, whatever they may be.”
“How does it work?” FeeTwix asks. “I mean, how can you create a place in which only selected players or groups can spawn?”
“Ah, yes,” Jim says, “the interior of this structure is what’s known as an OMIB space.” He waives his hand around. “I trust you’re familiar with the term?”
FeeTwix looks from Zaena to Ryuk. Only Tamana seems to have heard the term before. “Orthogonal Matrix Inverse Base – OMIB.”
“Yes indeed, White Warrior – you’re quite correct; please enlighten your companions later, if you would. Basically, it means that this is a very exclusive, controlled space and no one gets in without my approval.” The odd immiNPC hostelier clears his throat. “Now then, were there any breakfast requests? The chef and the saucier will be leaving soon for a private engagement.”
“Konakhchani Rohva!” Hiccup calls from the hallway. “And for the love of the Empress, let’s get this show on the road.” He shoulders past Jim, leaves a trail of wet footprints and drags a toilet paper tail into the room behind him.
“I’ll have the same,” Zaena says, “I’ve been craving.”
“I’m good,” says FeeTwix.
“Same.” Ryuk turns to Tamana. “Hungry?”
“Plomeek soup with tofu and flatbread, please.”
(0)__(0)
After a hurried breakfast, the five Mitherfickers make their way to the Aramis Riverwalk, which sits along the Bonsor River and is overshadowed by the tall towers of the financial district. Tamana wears a robe with a hood that obscures most her face. She’s travelling incognito, so her handle isn’t visible. It’s a bit risky, but the five of them need to gear up and to do so, they need to go out in public.
Unlike other shopping districts on the three floating continents of Tritania, the one in Aramis is known for its hodgepodge of shops that sell everything from weapons and armor to souvenirs and tchotchkes.
Like Bar Row, most of the shops take advantage of the absolute lack of zoning regulations and are closely packed together. Ryuk too pulls his hood over his head to blend in with Tamana. It’s amazing the power of a hood when it comes to one’s fantasy-world confidence – truth be told, just because you can’t see someone in your peripheral vision doesn’t mean they can’t see you.
FeeTwix points at a place call Over Armour. “That looks decent enough.” His eyes flash as he reads a message from a fan. “Nope, there’s a better spot.”
“Dirty Dave’s Armor and Weapons Depot?” Zaena stops and her face hardens. “I’m pretty sure that that’s the same Dirty Dave who introduced wizardous to Tritania.”
Hiccup waves her concern away. “Look, just because someone is filthy rich and famous, doesn’t mean they’re fickin’ selling drugs. Until the Magistrates in Porthos actually decide his case, Dave is still innocent, in my humblest of opinions. Let’s get in there and blow our wad.”
“Well, when you put it like that … ” FeeTwix takes the lead, ushering the others forward.
Dirty Dave’s Armor and Weapons Depot is a single story warehouse, not much larger than the buildings surrounding it. What makes it unique are the two roof-mounted turrets with six-barrel mini guns, crewed by a pair of NPC fawns in combat helmets and wraparound Oakley sunglasses, who sometimes amuse themselves by flinging pellets of faun poo at unsuspecting passersby.
The Mitherfickers stop in front of a large circular entrance that resembles a vault door. FeeTwix places his gloved hands on a Steampunk-y helm and gives it a spin. The door pops open almost immediately, and the Swede politely opens it all the way to let Tamana and Zaena in. Not one to miss the opportunity of an open door, Hiccup elbows his way to the front of the group and enters first.
Last in, Ryuk closes the door and stands in awe at the sheer scope and variety of weapons arrayed before him.
Some are in glass display cases and others are mounted in wall racks. There are enough blades, maces, spears, pikes, and lances to supply two crusades and a jihad and still have enough left over for some old school ethnic cleansing. The other side of the warehouse reminds Ryuk of a sporting goods store with its displays, live mechanical demos, hanging tapestries depicting famous battles, and even a kid’s section, in which aspiring warriors can test-fit armor and battle with Nerph weapons under the watchful gaze of orc referees.
“It’s a lot to take in,” FeeTwix finally says, picking up on Ryuk’s thoughts. “And it is so much larger in here than it appears outside.”
“Welcome.” An NPC with a thin smile and nearly translucent skin steps out from behind one of the counters. He’s in a neatly pressed morning coat with an elaborately tied white silk cravat that doesn’t cover the vertical Thulean tattoos running up his neck. His hair is slicked back from a widow’s peak, and as he speaks, the glint from his sharpened silver teeth catches Ryuk’s eyes. “Welcome to Dirty Dave’s.”
Hiccup gives the salesperson a skeptical look. “This place isn’t owned by the same Dirty Dave who invented wizardous, is it?”
The man smiles. “You’d have to ask Dirty Dave.”
“Is he here?”
A name tag that reads Dirty Dave materializes on the salesperson’s chest. “At your service.”
Dirty Dave Level 99
HP: 8999/8999
MANA: 4697/4697
ATK: 3347
MATK: 1679
DEF: 3000
MDF: 3000
LUCK: 115
Hiccup nods, impressed. “So you’re Dirty Dave?”
“You’d be surprised what a level 99 Mind Mage can do, including being in several places at once. Regarding the drug trafficking charges, those are just hearsay and fake news. Alternative facts.”
“See, Lizzy?” Hiccup shakes his head at Zaena. “I told you. Innocent until proven guilty.”
Dirty Dave approaches Ryuk, his eyes trained on the marble gun. “How very unusual! That is some algoweapon you have there. Mind if I take a look?”
Ryuk unholsters his marble gun and removes the magazine. He lays the weapon on the counter with the muzzle pointed in a safe direction.
“It’s a fine piece,” Dirty Dave muses as he looks the weapon over. “Do you mind if I touch it?”
“By all means.”
Dirty Dave sticks out a finger crowned with a pointed yellow fingernail. A plastic glove forms on his hand, and as he runs his finger along the Thulean script engraved on the barrel of the gun. The inscription glows green. “Very good, very interesting work.” He mumbles in Thulean as he reads it. He asks, “Someone from Chrono’s school made this, correct?”
“Yes, Dory the Weaponsmith.”
“It is an interesting specimen and very well made, but I expect that I can improve upon it somewhat. Not now though. I’ll need some time to develop something … ” He straightens his back as the word comes to him. “Something more automatic, for sportier situations. Also, I’m almost certain I can improve upon the magazine capacity. You get eight marbles per magazine, correct?”
“Um, yes. How did you know?”
Dirty Dave waves the question away. “Show me a weapon I don’t know and I’ll give you anything in the store.” He glances around to make his point. “Anything. With your dream armor and your upgraded weapon, there isn’t much I can offer you today. You are aware that your armor will start leveling up with you once you reach level ten, are you not? With that armor, you’ll never need an armor upgrade.”
“Seriously?”
Dave gives him a wolfish grin. “That’s what I’m here for, to educate. I don’t have anything for you today, next time. Moving on, and we will keep this short because my guess is you five are looking to get out of town.”
“What makes you think that?” Tamana asks.
“I sell weapons and I know things.”
“But not drugs!” Hiccup pipes in.
“Most certainly not and thank-you for your support, Hiccupanaratapana. I have the perfect thing for you. Follow me.”
Hiccup gives Ryuk a fanboy look that screams, ‘he knows my name!’
A high table with a silver box on it takes shape next to Dirty Dave. He lifts it by the handles to reveal a battered helm with goat horns. The helm sits atop a chainmail vest that faintly radiates yellow energy.
“It’s enchanted?” Ryuk asks.
“Ever-so-slightly,” says Dirty Dave. “It will increase your LUCK by fifteen points.”
“We’re going to be rich.” Hiccup hops up and down. “Howzabout lowering that table so I can actually check it out.”
The table lowers by about a half meter and Hiccup equips the helm. “A little help here,” he tells Tamana, who springs into action and helps him with the chainmail.
“Next.” Dirty Dave steps over to Zaena. He admires her for a moment. His eyebrows lift as he settles on a thought. “Ah, so that’s who you are. Interesting.”
The green color drains from her face. “No it’s not,” she mouths.
The weapons dealer tilts his head and winks. “As you wish. Now then, you’re going to need better swords.”
His table elongates and four short swords pixelate into existence. Their hilts are gold with Thulean script wrapping the grips and the center ridge of each sword is four shades darker than the rest of the blade.
“These are forged from the finest depleted Pelosium. I recently purchased these four from Kay and Ray’s Chib-O-Rama Superette – purveyors of high quality cutlery for every purpose. I am prescient like that at times. These increase your attack power by twenty points, and come with a signed certificate of authenticity. As for your armor, I will upgrade you once you reach a higher level.”
Two of the swords lift into the air and move through a brief attack-parry-thrust exercise. Zaena picks up the other two and tests their weight and balance. “Thank you,” she finally says, “they are wonderfully crafted.”
“Now to the White Warrior.” He stops in front of Tamana and examines her for a moment. A rectangular box made from white metal takes shape on his table; it contains an opalescent two-piece cuirass.
“You are the lowest level in the group,” he says, “so this will serve you now, and as you progress it will progress with you. This armor decreases any damage or injury done to you by twenty-five percent. It also heals you by 1% of your health every three minutes. It only adds ten points to your defense stat, but at the same time, it adds thirty to your magic defense. Later, as you level up, there will be more items like this that I can prepare for you. I’ll also be able to up the defense points on this, but not until you are a higher level.”
“This is wonderful!” Tamana slips into the armor. “And the fit … it’s like you knew my size.”
Ryuk laughs. This is something Tamana always said to Tritanian NPCs. Of course the armor is her size, any armor equipped is automatically the equipee’s size, but Tamana always goes out of her way to make the NPC feel special, worthy of praise.
“Thank you,” she says, bowing.
“My pleasure.”
Dirty Dave steps in front of FeeTwix. “And we arrive at the Quantum Hughes methodology enthusiast.”
FeeTwix gawks. “You know him?”
“Knew him. It was my misfortune to have to deal with him for two subjective years, as he liked to say. This was in a different world, before I came here.” He smiles a pointy and predatory smile. “I know you. You’re the type of player who scrolls through your list behind your back, totally unpredictable, a bit of a loose cannon, but usually surprisingly effective. Am I right?”
“Not completely,” FeeTwix says. “Most times, I let my viewers select my weapon.”
“Viewers?”
FeeTwix points at his eyes which are blue at the moment.
“Ah yes, your viewers. Keep your feed off and follow me.” He turns, and motions for FeeTwix to come with him. “The rest of you stay here, and as my dear departed dad used to say, keep your hands in your pockets and don’t make nose prints on the glass.”
Dirty Dave approaches an oversized knight standing against a stretch of blank wall.
The knight’s accoutered in heavy, uncomfortable-looking, elaborate pink cloisonné Hello Unicorn themed armor that sports a sugar skull helmet with big pink bunny ears. The pink knight rests both hands on the hilt of a massive broadsword, the tip of which is pressed to the floor between his feet. Dave reaches up, smacks the knight on the helmet and whispers something in Thulean. The knight’s answering growl is so low as to be almost inaudible, and his grip tightens on the hilt.
The weaponeer raises a finger in admonishment. “Just remember what happened the last time you tried that, Matthew.”
The pink bunny knight sighs, side-steps to the right and assumes his original position.
A dark blue, three-meter shield decorated with white clouds and an armored fist clenching lightning bolts and an olive branch forms on the wall. It splits vertically down the middle and ponderously swings inward to reveal a gray, industrial steel staircase. At the bottom is a heavy steel blast door; Dave enters a lengthy numerical sequence into a keypad and the door swings inward. The lights come up, and The Swede gasps.
Mounted on the walls of the cavern, displayed in cases, and stored in racks are a variety of weapons, the likes of which has FeeTwix just about depositing digital genetic material in his underoos. “Holy CRAP – look at this stuff! I am seriously not worthy!” He presses his nose against a display case and actually slobbers on it. “OMG, Dave! That’s a genuine BFG 9000! How much?”
“Well spotted, sir, but it’s for display only, I’m afraid.”
“And that … he points to a slick-looking weapon with a cube shaped muzzle.
“A PHASR – personal halting and stimulation response rifle – with an enhanced neuromuscular inhibitor.”
“And this … ” FeeTwix approaches a golden ax behind thick glass. One side of the ax is fractured off, and veins pulsating with an ethereal green liquid extend down the weapons cheek, over its lug, and all the way to the knob on the other end.
Dirty Dave steps in front of him. “Also for display only, sorry to say. I do, however, have something similar.”
He takes a dragonwood case out from a drawer and sets it on the table in the center of the room. After registering his fingerprint, the lid lifts on its own, revealing a dagger with a damascened blade and an intricately wrought emerald handle.
“A knife?” FeeTwix asks.
“Not just any knife, pick it up.”
FeeTwix lifts the knife and it immediately starts to grow. Tendrils of symbiose peel off the weapon and wrap around the Swede’s hand. They spiral up his shoulder and form a hardened shell with pulsating veins. Once the blade has formed, and underslung barrel takes shape, its muzzle rimmed in green energy.
“A mutant hack?” FeeTwix asks.
“Yes, an algoweapon as it is known here. This one you’ll find is most excellent, and far superior to the one you already have.”
“How did you know I have one?”
Dirty Dave taps his finger against his temple. “I’ve been saving this particular specimen whom I’ve named Colonel Bowie, for the right buyer, and the little bird on my shoulder tells me that that buyer is you. Tritania’s NVA seed put a restriction on how many times this sort of weapon can be used – thanks to your hero, Quantum Hughes, by the way. You can use it once a day, for the duration of whatever battle you are engaged in. Don’t forget that, and don’t be surprised if this weapon does more than you originally intend for it to do. This one was made here in Tritania, and like I said, it’s much more powerful than yours.”
FeeTwix admires the weapon for a moment. He runs his free hand along the hack’s exterior, flicks it to test its hardness. “That reminds me, my guildmates told me about some type of protective vest that would prevent damage from using unapproved weapons.”
Dave nods. “You’re referring to Doc’s tactical vest. There were two in existence, actually, but I was never able to get one. I was, however, able to examine one and reverse engineer a duplicate.” He bends and opens another drawer. He returns to the display table with a black sleeveless tactical vest lined with pockets. “It isn’t quite as good as Doc’s – that man was truly an artist in every sense of the word – and it won’t give you any additional defense points, but it will limit the life bar penalty to no more than 15%.”
FeeTwix slips into the black tactical vest and zips it up. “I love it,” he says as he runs his hands up and down the front of the vest. “Now I won’t have to chug as many healing potions.”
(0)__(x)
Dirty Dave and FeeTwix join the rest of the group in the front room. Zaena is performing some flashy and elaborate four-armed sword drills and Hiccup, his goat-horned helm perched on his head, watches her and comments in Thulean.
“Now comes my second favorite part,” the weapons dealer claps his hands together. “Let’s discuss remuneration.” His eyes light up as he drums his fingers together.
“We have a little over fifty thousand rupees,” Ryuk informs him. As the scion of a well-to-do Yakuza clan, he’s never had to concern himself with what things cost, and is ignorant of the primary rule of bartering – don’t tell ‘em how much you have.
“How excellent,” Dirty Dave claps his hands in delight. “That should almost exactly cover the tip!”
All eyes turn to Hiccup.
“Now just a fickin’ minute,” he objects. “Yeah we’re a little short of funds, but it’s not like I’m the one who pissed away seventy thousand … oh, wait – that was me.” He huffs, “Well, at least I’m not the one who blew ten grand at the fancy house … no, that was me, too. Well, I for sure didn’t lose twenty-five large on a fixed ponytail race to an ink shadow … um, yeah – that was also me. No matter. We’ll never go back to Sotla so we won’t have to pay it back.”
“We?” Ryuk clenches his fists.
A slightly contrite Hiccup stage whispers behind his hand, “Okay – never mind. Just leave it to me. I’ll trick this yokel into dropping his prices with my superior negotiating skills.” With a thoroughly unconvincing and most insincere grin crookedly plastered across his lumpy goblin physiognomy, he turns to the weaponeer. “Oh kind, gentle, charitable Mr. Dirty Dave, sir!” He hurls himself at the proprietor’s feet, wraps his arms around Dave’s ankles and weeps and caterwauls. “Through no fault of mine, we are seriously short of funds. Please, oh please good kind sir – is there any way you can help us out?”
Numbers of electric blue fire form in the air as Dave reads off the costs of the weapons.
The final total – eighty-six thousand, seven hundred and fifty-three rupees flashes like the tote board for the national corporate debt, and a scroll with a handsomely calligraphied itemized receipt materializes out of thin air and drops into Ryuk’s hand.
He gulps. “That’s quite a bit.”
“I disagree. You get what you pay for, young sir, and despite Mr. Goblin’s shenanigans, I did not charge you the usual ten percent PUWYBS surcharge, in addition to the generous five percent discount that I don’t normally offer to the walk-in trade, plus an additional seven hundred off the top.” Dave’s eyes narrow on the five. “Consider it a complimentary Knights of Non Compos Mentis discount.”
FeeTwix: PUWYBS – Putting up with your bullshit. I’ve been charged this before by a guy I call Steampunk Santa in Steam.
“But that’s no longer my guild,” Ryuk says. “Ow! Dammit!”
Hiccup removes his metal fist from where he’d pounded it into Ryuk’s toes, and hisses, “Shut the fick up and take the fickin’ discount!”
“Wait!” FeeTwix announces, his finger in the air, “I have a bill of credit.” The Swede gives his list a quick looksee and a scroll appears. “Take a look at this.”
The weapons dealer unrolls the scroll, examines it, offers the Mitherfickers a satisfied nod, and a red Thulean wax stamp appears on the parchment hovering in front of Ryuk.
“We are in so much debt now,” Ryuk mutters under his breath.
“Debt?” Hiccup scoffs. “I hate to break it to you, Marbles, but thirty K worth of debt is nothing. Remember those orcs we were running from in Sotla? I owed those fickers at least seventy K, owed the brothel another ten.”
“That’s your debt, not ours.”
“But it would have become ours if they had caught me. The way I see it, we’re already eighty K up and that’s without the bonus I’ve been promised.”
“You owe some orcs eighty thousand rupees in Sotla?” Tamana shakes her head and looks to Zaena.
“What, Tammy? And don’t get Liz involved in this discussion; she wasn’t even a member of our guild at that time!”
Zaena ruffles his clump of pink hair with her ghost limb.
“Hey! Watch the hair!”
“We’ll get the money the good old-fashioned way – advertising, fighting, and gambling.” FeeTwix grins. “I’m not worried about it.”
Dave snaps his fingers and a crate of healing potions appear. “This isn’t something I normally do, but I was recently given a year’s supply of SafeKrogerWay healing potions for sponsoring the annual Waringtla Tournament. The case is yours. There are also two mana potions in there, if the White Warrior needs them.”
“The store brand kind? Eew!” Hiccup groans, doffs his helmet, and tucks it under his mechanical arm.
“And that’s not all.” Pixie dust swirls around Dave’s hand as a ray gun with a bulbous barrel takes shape.
“Fick me.” Hiccup mumbles as he lifts his hands into the air. “Dammit, I should have known!”
Tamana draws her weapon and steps in front of the group, her surfboard-sized sword nearly as long as Hiccup is tall. Ryuk aims his marble gun, Zaena her four new swords, and FeeTwix his mutant hack.
“Ha!” Dave snorts in amusement. “The five of you versus … me? Now those are some odds I can get behind! But fear not, dear friends – I’m not here to shoot you. If I wanted you dead, to quote an old friend, you wouldn’t have made it to the door. No, this ray gun is something I invented that modifies an avatar’s D-NAS – digital neuronal autoconstruct system – to spoof the world’s algorithm into granting double experience points for a six-hour time frame. You people need to level up, especially you, White Warrior, and this will help. Also, before you ask, it isn’t for sale.”
He puts the ray gun away.
“Aren’t you going to fire it?” FeeTwix asks.
“I already did. No glitz or glam about the EXP Ray Gun, but you do have a time limit to reap the most awards, and as it is currently the Hour of the Morning Pig, you have until the Hour of the Rabbit to take advantage of the algospell. Recently, in Kayi, near the Klin Mountains, there’s been an outbreak of orc zombies. They’ve since taken over the town, turned most of the townspeople into zombies, and as such, the Aramis Security Force are looking for a few good entities to help rid the town of the Z infestation. And talk about luck … ”A badge the size of a dinner plate appears on his chest. “I’m also sponsor of and a recruiter for the ASF.”
“You a cop?” Hiccup asks.
“Did I say cop? No, I’m a businessman, and military and law enforcement make up the bulk of my business.”
“But you have legal … um, difficulties in Ultima Thule,” says Zaena.
“Yes, but that’s in Ultima Thule, a different continent from where we currently stand. Besides, I prefer Hyperborea over UT. UT is cold, drab, wretched, cold and nowhere near as interesting as the other two continents – no offense intended, Thulean.”
Zaena starts to say something but bites her lip instead.
“Anyway … ” Dave again offers the five his predatory grin. “It’s a free-for-all out there with tons of enemies. By accepting the quest, you’ll be transported there instantly.”
A prompt appears in front of Ryuk and he hovers his finger over the accept button.
Quest: Will you join the ASF to vanquish orc zombies that have infested the town of Kayi?
Possible Rewards: Loads of EXP and multiple networking possibilities with the police force command structure.
Risks: Zombies will eat you.
Chapter 23: Orc zombie battle royal
The five Mitherfickers spawn in front of Kayi’s cathedral and the walking dead take immediate notice of them.
“Weapons up! Face outboard!” shouts FeeTwix. The closest zulu is a once-attractive ASF officer, with one arm off at the elbow and her guts trailing along behind her. She treads on her innards, stumbles and makes no effort to catch herself as she lays herself out full length.
FeeTwix’s M4 Carbine takes shape in his hands. “Let’s do this,” he grins, as he pops the ASF zombie through the top of her head.
Instakill!
A zombie orc springs at Tamana; Ryuk blasts it with a black marble and its arm and shoulder spin away.
-113 HP! Critical hit!
Tamana brandishes her sword and finishes the job; its head goes bouncing as its zom-buddy staggers in behind it. Tamana splits this one from crown to crotch. “They’re not that fast!” She says as she catches her breath. “But they’re freaky-looking, and they smell worse than Hiccup!”
“I heard that!” The goblin brings his ax down onto the first head Tamana cut off.
A group of shuffling horrors close in on them; Zaena draws all four swords, wades into them and sets zombie heads a-flyin’. “I’ve actually dealt with this before,” she calls over to them, “in one of the boroughs of Athos. Listen, do not get bitten or scratched or splattered with any body fluids. If anyone turns, we’ll have to kill you. I’m looking at you, goblin.”
“I have a name!”
“Yes, and it will be Zombie Snacks if you don’t stay focused.”
A former Kayian townie with arms outstretched and raw, red, gaping wounds where his face used to be zeros in on FeeTwix, who brains him with one shot. “Sweet! Less firearm damage! In that case … ”
The M-4 goes back to inventory and he produces a classic SPAS-12. His eyes flash black and he announces to his viewers. “Hey there sports fans! We’re here in the formerly scenic city of Kayi after visiting a Merchant of Doom in Aramis. For all of those fans of my Dead City feed, you’ll especially love this! Also … ”
Three more zombies take notice and bolt towards the Mitherfickers. Zaena dispatches one. BOOM! BOOM! FeeTwix levels the other two with the SPAS-12.
“Active gamers and fans o’ FeeTwix, when you’re going at it hot and heavy, Old Spice Degree & Hammer is just what you need to kick ass, take names, and not let your funk spoil your fun!”
He continues the ad read as he charges at a zombie orc that has smashed out of the window of a small bodega. “Try the newest OSD&H fragrances! Hill Country Bluebonnet and Sweet Honey Hickory Grill are both inspired by the sweet scents of the semi-autonomous state of Texas. And speaking of Texas, American friends do I have a deal for you!” He shoulder rolls, leaps, and blasts a junior zombie in half, then stomps its skull. “Mention #FeeTwixRox at checkout and get sample-sized Huntsville Old Sparky Bubba Yum shampoo and Beaumont Bad Booty Bodywash absolutely free! Terms and conditions apply.”
A zombie swipes at FeeTwix mid-spiel, and he narrowly avoids the creature’s splintered fingernails.
With the speed of a hyperactive cheetah, Zaena swoops in, beheads the creature, grabs the Swede by his tactical vest and pulls him up on tippy-toes for a kiss. A zombie family of three slouch and moan their way in; FeeTwix opens an eye, one-hands the assault shotgun, and puts the trio out of their misery before kissing her again.
“Get a fickin’ room, you two!” Hiccup grumbles as the two lovebirds kill their way north. “That guy would rent his dick to an STD if he thought there were rupees in it for him!” An orc zombie nearly three times the goblin’s size approaches from his left. With a step, turn, and spin Hiccup cleaves the zomb-orc’s skull from ear to ear, wrenches his axe free and is instantly awarded one hundred rupees. “Yo-ho! These bastards are rich!” he tells Ryuk, who’s just exploded another zombie’s noggin.
“It’s your new helmet,” Tamana reminds him. “It increased your LUCK!” A zombie orc lurches into range, she swings her airplane wing of a sword in a figure eight and takes both its arms off. She follows through with a swing for the fence and takes Mr. Zombie’s head clean off. She’s awarded a level up. “Yes!”
Hiccup touches the helm with its two little horns. “I forgot I was wearing this!” An idea comes to him and a sly smile spreads across his face. “Hey you guys! Why are we hacking zombies when we could be pillaging? Twixy and Liz can keep ‘em off our backs while us three scoot and loot!”
He’s off faster than a fish can fart; Ryuk and Tamana both roll their eyes and shake their heads.
“Well?” She wipes blood from her blade onto the tunic of the orc zombie at her feet.
“Let’s follow him. He’s going to get his ass turned into a zombie and when he does,” Ryuk’s eyes narrow, “I get to be the one that kills him.”
She laughs. “I don’t know how you could have changed so much in such a short amount of time, but you have. Quick, before we lose him!”
Ryuk and Tamana chase Hiccup down a wide lane that leads to a cluster of shops and dwellings that have not withstood the siege. Debris litters the street; heaps of truly dead zombies surround smashed doors and windows in mute testimony to more than one desperate last stand. Some of the buildings have been reduced to charred wreckage; others still burn unchecked.
Hiccup races by, seemingly untouched by the slaughter and devastation.
“Hold on!” Tamana slows in front of an armored and helmeted ASF trooper crouching over a similarly accoutered companion, who rests in a puddle of gore.
“Can we help you? Are you injured?” She asks as she moves closer.
The crouching trooper turns and snarls at them. One eye is gone; his exposed teeth chomp at bits of tissue and viscera that hang from his mouth. His companion’s chest cavity has been scooped out like a soft boiled egg. Tamana shrieks, hacks him in half with her oversized sword, and rapidly back pedals.
-68 HP!
The undead security officer moans and twitches and drags his upper half after her as Ryuk swaps out magazines and loads up with knife marbles. Even at close range, it takes three shots to penetrate the zombie’s ASF helmet and put him away.
Level up!
Ryuk Matsuzaki Level 9 Ballistics Mage
HP: 291/291
ATK: 76
MATK: 97
DEF: 58
MDF: 39
LUCK: 10
New marble acquired! Molten marbles contain a fiery lava core that spreads when the marble strikes the target. BONUS! Molten marbles can also be used for cooking and keeping warm.
“I got a new marble!” Ryuk tells Tamana. A pouch appears on his belt and he retrieves one of the smoky black marbles, which is warmed by a fiery red core. “Cover me while I load up a mag.”
They crouch behind a partially crumbled wall. Ryuk strips out the knife marbles and refills the magazine with his latest acquisition as Tamana keeps watch.
“See any zombies?” he asks her.
“Two approaching from your left.”
“Got it!” Ryuk braces his arms across the top of the wall, and almost before he even thinks about firing, the two orc zombies burst into flames.
-75 HP! -73 HP!
Tamana laughs with sheer delight. “That’s an awesome marble! I … ” She turns to Ryuk and he sees the happiness in her eyes. “I know it hasn’t been very long, but I really really missed this. Missed us, and I am so glad, so very glad, to be back with you.” She sighs, hesitates. “I only wish we had spent more time together up there, in the real world.”
“We have this world, Tritania,” Ryuk tells her. “I’ll be an RPC here sooner or later, and I swear, Tamana, I will be here every day until then.”
She casts her eyes down. The moment is theirs, even amidst the terror and despair that has washed over the village. “You don’t have to.”
“We can explore other worlds as well. I’m sure that there is a way to do so. And I know I don’t have to; I want to. I’ve never known what it is like to lose someone. I’ve been so caught up in finding you that now that I’ve found you, I’m just … I can’t express how I feel at the moment.” He bows his head to her in shame.
She moves closer to him. Ryuk picks off an incoming geriatric zombie; it bursts into flames and collapses to the cobblestones. It writhes, twitches, and sizzles as the molten lava consumes it.
A door kicks off its hinges and Hiccup exits with his plunder.
Golden necklaces set with rubies and sapphires dangle from the goat horns on his helmet; strings of pearls adorn his neck. He clutches golden goblets, silver tableware, sacks of rupees, jewelry boxes, a platinum samovar, and a thick stack of back issues of Goblin Holes scrollazines. “What?” he asks as he sends the items to inventory, “the place was abandoned!”
Tamana’s eyes narrow as she gives Hiccup a disapproving look. “You really shouldn’t steal other people’s stuff, you know.”
“Well, it’d be pretty fickin’ pointless to steal my own stuff, wouldn’t it? Look Little Tammy Trueheart, if I don’t steal it, somebody else will, or it’ll just go to waste, so it might just as well be me in the first place. We good?”
Tamana is not good, but says nothing. Hiccup takes her silence for acquiescence.
“So who’s down for stealing, I mean looting, I mean borrowing, our way back to the other two?” He lifts his snout into the air. “I believe they’re that way.”
“You can smell them?” Now it’s Ryuk’s turn to be skeptical. A zombified female orc spills over the wall and lands right in front of them. Hiccup brings his ax down onto her skull before she can get to her feet.
Instakill!
“Damn skippy that was an Instakill, and damn skippy I can smell the lizard queen from a kilometer away! Hell, my goblin organ of olfaction is so sensitive that I can even smell FeeTwix’s snake oil social media bullshit too. ”
He jerks his ax out of the back of the orc’s head and gives her a kick, just because. “Get a load of this one. I’m telling you guys, some of these zombie orcs look suspiciously like the hookers – I mean sexual surrogate specialists – that I spent quality healing time with back in Sotla. Methinks the Sage is doing a bit of recycling. But, no matter, who’s down for some more plundering and pillaging, in that order? There are a couple of good-sized homes with the doors hanging open and a bunch of shops with the windows broken out over yonder. You two in? Let the ransacking commence!”
Ryuk looks to Tamana and shrugs.
He generally plays it safe in life, which has translated somewhat to the way he plays the game. However, as soon as he started changing things up, his luck changed for the better and now he’s here, with Tamana.
By emphasizing the differences between who he was and what was holding him back, he discovered a new mode of being. The new oblique quote from Hajime comes to him: Faced with a choice, do both, which he takes in this situation to mean: loot and save the day.
Side Quest: Will you join Hiccup as he loots his way to FeeTwix and Zaena?
Rewards: Treasure and experience points.
Risks: You’ll encounter an ASF patrol, and you and your party will be fined and incarcerated.
“Let’s see what we can find,” Ryuk finally says, “but let’s keep a low profile.”
“Thata boy, Marbles!” Hiccup claps him on the elbow. “I see many kids in your future with the nuts you’re sprouting – many, many kids.”
(0)__(0)
“There’s the one.” Hiccup points at three-story white house situated behind a fence tipped with sharpened fleur-de-lis. A sign across the front gate reads The Bannons. The gate hangs open and immobile zombie corpses litter the yard, interspersed with the partially eaten remains of their victims – another last stand that didn’t end well for somebody.
Cries in the distance catch Ryuk’s attention. “We really should do what we came here to do, and quickly.”
“That’s what we’re doing!” Hiccup assures him. “Come on kid, you wanna get the cooter, then you gotta be the looter – and hey you even got a shooter. I’ll bet that’d suit ‘er. Ha! I kill myself sometimes.”
Ryuk glances to Tamana and she looks away, her cheeks suddenly red. “I’m not trying to impress her,” he mumbles under his breath.
FeeTwix: Where the fickity fick are you guys? We’re knee deep in some shit over here!
Hiccup: That’s your own damn fault! And stop stealing my lines!
Ryuk: What do you mean by ‘here’?
FeeTwix: Town square. How long until you get here?
Ryuk: No telling. We’re doing a bit of looting as we make our way to you. Hiccup’s idea.
Hiccup: Damn skippy it was my idea. We’re gonna be rich, boys – rich I tells ya!
FeeTwix: If you see any pretty necklaces, swipe them for me so I can give one to Zaena. And hurry your asses up!
Hiccup: I’ve picked up a couple of pearl necklaces – do you want me to give her one?
FeeTwix:┌∩┐(ಠ_ಠ)┌∩┐
One of the Bannon’s upstairs windows crashes outwards. A zombie with Chiup hog jowls and a face covered in age spots juts his head out and hisses as he clutches at the window frame.
Mr. Race Bannon Level ??
HP: 666/666
ATK: 9
MATK: 23
DEF: 121
MDF: 116
LUCK: 45
“I’ve got this.” Ryuk draws his magic slingshot and places a molten marble in its pouch. He pulls the bands back and waits for the zombie to frame itself in the window.
His perfectly placed shot smashes through the undead’s lips and teeth.
-120! Critical hit! Tonsil Shot!
The zombie spouts flame from its eyes, ears, nose and mouth, windmills its arms and topples over backwards. Tendrils of smoke waft from the window, and Ryuk is awarded double EXP.
“Talk about some heartburn!” Hiccup laughs as a store brand SafeKrogerWay healing potion appears in his mechanical hand. “What? It’s prophylactic.”
He chugs it back, wipes his lips, curses the flavor, and smashes the bottle on the ground. Up the front steps he trots, kicks in the unlocked door and goes face first over the threshold when he overbalances. “FICK! … I mean, um, I meant to do that!”
“I’ll cover you,” Ryuk tells Tamana.
She keeps her buster sword at the ready and stumbles when she accidentally digs it into the doorframe. With a sheepish grin on her face, Tamana yanks her sword free and blows a strand of white hair out of her eyes. Ryuk enters, his marble gun at the ready, the rest of his magazine of molten marbles still in the weapon.
“All righty then,” Hiccup says once everyone is in the foyer, “We need to make this quick and dirty.” The inside is a shambles. Furniture is smashed and overturned, clothes and possessions are littered about, and smears of gore are everywhere. The air is heavy with the smell of blood, ripped bowels, and decomposing zombie flesh.
Tamana gasps. “It’s like a bad American horror movie in here.”
“It’s not that much worse than Jatla, really,” Ryuk reminds her.
Her face contorts as she considers for a moment. Finally, she nods.
“I’m pretty sure the way we want to go is down.” Hiccups points beneath his feet and stomps the floor, just in case they’re unclear as to where ‘down’ is. “Also these one percenters keep their best shit down below. Anyone see a door?”
“Um … ” Tamana takes a quick look around, smacks her buster sword against an end table and sends a Naklin vase filled with Kadupuls to the ground. The three jump when it shatters, and Hiccup expresses his gaseous disapproval.
“Holy flying fick, Tammy, you’re killing us here!” He rattles his ax at her. “Why don’t you just equip an accordion, bagpipes, and glockenspiel and have your own Loud Lives Matter parade!”
“Sorry.” She bows and scuffs her toe in front of her. “Sorry again.”
A muffled cry for help comes from a coat closet.
“Probably just women or children. Ignore them,” Hiccup examines a few of the busts in the foyer that haven’t been toppled over. “Come on, rich people, where’s your secret switcheroo?”
He stops in front of a bust of a bad tempered, disgruntled, disgusted, dyspeptic looking fat guy. “This must be the fat rat bastard you popped in the pie hole.” He strokes the bust’s head with his mechanical hand and puts a finger in each nostril, prods and twists.
Thumping and more muffled cries makes Tamana to turn to Ryuk. “There are people in there,” she whispers. “We have to help them.”
Again, Hajime’s quote, comes to him – do both. Ryuk steps forward. “Hiccup, we’re going to go help those people.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever – you get after it, Do-right,” the goblin says as flicks his finger at the statue’s lip. “Just be sure to clear the rest of the house first, and if you run into trouble, deal with it and I’ll call you when I need you.”
“I’ll open it, you keep your gun ready,” Tamana whispers to Ryuk as they approach the closet.
“Got it.” He holds his marble gun at chest level as Tamana opens the door.
“Don’t hurt us!”
Ryuk immediately holsters his weapon when he sees a pair of gnomes cowering in the jacket closet. The male gnome’s salt and pepper beard stretches well past his belly; his forearms are prominently tattooed with otherworldly script. His female companion’s gray hair is pulled into a tight bun and secured with a pair of knitting needles. Their footgear is scuffed and torn and worn, and they both sport a heavy brass anklet. Most noticeably, they’re missing their pointy red hats.
The gnomette flings herself forward and wraps her arms around Ryuk’s waist. “You saved us!” Tears of joy stream down her wrinkled face as she looks up at him. “It was terrible! Awful! Horrible! Terrible!”
“Don’t hug him, Chantrea! He could still kill you!” The male gnome brandishes a pair of pruning shears in a most unconvincing and half-hearted manner.
“Please,” Ryuk tells him, “we’re not going to kill you.”
If we were, you’d already be dead, he thinks.
Tamana smiles at the pair as a sudden realization spreads across her face. “You two are from Unigaea, aren’t you?”
“How did you know?” Chantrea asks.
“The tattoos on his arms. That’s the script they used in that world, isn’t it?”
Ryuk has seen the Thai-inspired script before burned across the chest of a mysterious warrior they once encountered in Ultima Thule. Unigaea was a VMMORPG world that was popular for a brief spell in the 2060s until a disgruntled player with a source code bomb destroyed it; those few NPCs that escaped became refugees in Tritania.
“It is,” the male gnome steps forward and offers his hand to Ryuk. “The name is Arun, and this is my wife, Chantrea.”
Hiccup bellows from the other room. “Yo-Ho, treasure enthusiasts! Hot ficks, I figured it out! Never mind your do-goodery. I need back up, so get your asses in here!”
Arun lowers his bushy brows and scowls. “You’ve brought a goblin with you?”
“Um … ” Ryuk scratches the back of his head. “Actually, he brought us.”
“So you’re here for the treasure in the family crypt then, aren’t you?”
“It wasn’t our original reason to come here to Kayi. We’re actually here to hunt zombies.” He looks to Tamana and shrugs. “Somehow, we’ve ended up as looters.”
“C’mon you two – chop-chop! We got stuff to steal! Let’s fickin’ go!”
Arun straightens his back and puffs out his chest. “Then let us help you. Mr. Bannon and his atrocious twin daughters have been the bane of our existence for years!”
“Honey … ” Chantrea places her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Don’t say things like that. The twins weren’t too bad.”
“Not too bad? They took away our pointy felt hats! And look at this!” He gestures to the brass band around his ankle. “If either of us leaves the property without their permission we will be permanently deleted and they’re the ones that set up the magic! I know what I am,” Arun says, “and by permanently deleted I mean just that – these bracelets put a kink in our D-NAS that will force an auto-delete function.”
“That’s awful,” Tamana empathizes.
“And as you can see,” Arun glowers at the ankle cuff, “whatever type of magic this is, it is still in effect.”
“You two had better not be dead … ah, fick!” Hiccup joins the two and rolls his eyes when he sees the gnomes. “We’re not here on a rescue mission. Sorry, gnomes, you’re on your own.”
“You’ve already rescued us,” Arun tells him, “at least your friends have, goblin. We want to help you now.”
“Help us?” Hiccup raises an eyebrow at the gnome. “And the name is Hiccup.”
“Are you sure, Arun?” his wife asks. “Are you sure we should help them?”
The stout gnome gives the three Mitherfickers a determined nod. “I know where the treasure is. Follow me!”
(0)__(x)
“I already know the way,” Hiccup informs the group as they pass into the foyer. “So save the tour guide shit.”
Arun gives the goblin a curt shake of the head. “No, no you don’t. You’ve found the booby trapped passage that you’re supposed to find, the one that leads straight to your gruesome, violent, painful death. The non-booby trapped passage that leads to the treasure is through the pantry.” The gnome gently takes his wife’s elbow and guides her around the busts that Hiccup knocked over.
“As long as there’s treasure, and as long as you know where the fickin’ treasure is, you’re in charge, pops.”
Ryuk holds back for a moment to let the others pass. He takes a breath, and his Extreme Focus and Magic Eye skills reveal a soft yellow magic that filters from the entrance that Hiccup discovered.
His marble gun at the ready, he follows Tamana into the kitchen, which looks like a whirling herd of cartoon Tasmanian Devils has been through it. All the drawers have been stripped from the cupboards and scattered glassware and ceramic shards litter the floor.
Arun stops in front of the pantry door. “It’s been hell, that’s for sure,” he says as he opens the door.
A wave of stench and funk roll out to greet him; he screams like a sissy when the orc zombie stumbles out and reaches for him. Hiccup shrieks “Oh FICK!” and releases a cloud of stench and funk all his own.
“Move, Move, MOVE!” Tamana shouts as she swings the buster sword and hacks the pantry door, doorframe, and orc zombie in half.
-58 HP! Critical hit!
The upper half of the zombie lands face up and it tilts its head to keep them in view as it scrabbles for traction with clawed hands. Tamana chops its head free and drives her oversized blade through the bridge of its nose.
Instakill!
A wide eyed Hiccup turns to the two resetters. “Hey – Marbles, Tammy. What part of ‘clear the rest of the house first’ did you fail to understand?”
“Don’t be too harsh with them,” Arun pipes up. “They were rescuing us!”
“Fickin’ amateur hour,” Hiccup mumbles under his breath.
Chantrea places the back of her hand against her head as if to faint. “Please, please remove it,” she asks meekly. “I can’t look!”
“Relax, dear, I’ll handle it.” Arun grabs the orc zombie’s lower half by its wolf leather boots and gives it an ineffectual tug. “A little help for the gnome, maybe?” Ryuk joins him and they drag the body out of the way and pile the top half next to it. Hiccup boots the head out through the entryway.
“Right,” says Arun, “and thank you,” he tells the three Mitherfickers. “The lighting is poor in the pantry, so we’ll need to grab a lantern. Chantrea?”
“I always keep a spare one here.” She produces one from a lower cabinet, snaps her fingers and the lantern sparks to life.
“Come in then.” Arun lets the three enter, followed by his wife. He closes the door as he steps in last and points at a stack of barrels. “The middle one is the door.” He removes the bung, inserts two fingers and pushes. The barrel clamshells open to reveal a flight of stairs. “The family crypt is at the bottom.”
“And the treasure?” Hiccup rubs his paws together.
“It’s in the crypt, you’ll see it. We’ll wait up here for you.”
Hiccup points his ax at the gnome couple. “The fick you will. I’ll tell you what, you two go down there with us just to be sure that there’s no funny stuff.”
“Funny stuff?”
“Yeah – ambushes, booby traps, clown zombies – that type of thing. Funny stuff.”
“Fine,” Arun huffs, “but I will not be the first one to enter.”
“And you won’t be the last either, that will be Marbles over there. Kid, keep your weapon on these two as we descend.”
Ryuk raises his marble gun. “Got it.” He catches a side glance from Tamana and gives her a quick shrug.
The five take the stairs, Ryuk in the rear. Nothing is said as they enter into a cool room with a low ceiling. Chantrea’s lantern does little to fully light the space, leaving the edges crosshatched with darkness. A sickly sweet odor hangs in the air.
“It’s like the catacombs under Polynya,” Tamana says as they take another flight of stairs.
“That’s what it was designed after,” says Arun, “the Bannons were a powerful and influential family at Empress Thun’s court, but there were allegations of shady dealings and consorting with anti-imperial elements and hanging around with that that vile Dirty Dave character.”
“Hey, Dirty Dave is just a very successful business entity!” Hiccup reminds everyone.
“Was there a Mrs. Bannon?” Tamana’s oversized surfboard of a sword clangs against the wall, and badly startles Hiccup.
“Dragon ficks!” the goblin calls over his shoulder. “Either be more careful or put that fickin’ thing away! This place already has my gob-sphincter clenched!”
“Sorry.” She bows her head to him as she follows closely behind.
Arun pipes up, “There were several Mrs. Bannons. I think there were ... five?”
“Six,” Chantrea corrects her husband. “And an equal number of mistresses. But as of three weeks ago, there hasn’t been a Mrs. Bannon, nor a mistress.”
“Just to be sure, is Mr. Bannon a fat, ugly fick who looks like the mutant love child of an inbred radioactive orc and a rabid Chiup hog with chiggers?” Hiccup asks.
Arun snorts. “I haven’t heard him described that way before, but yes, I do believe that’s him, goblin.”
“Well, don’t need to worry about that ficker anymore. Marbles back there roasted that little piggy from the inside. And the name is Hiccup!”
The five enter into a corridor that stretches beyond the circle of light from Chantrea’s lantern. “This is it,” she says, “the family crypt.” She steps away from the foot of the stairs, stubs her toe, trips, and drops the lantern.
Velvety blackness envelops them.
Ryuk’s Extreme Focus kicks in; at the far end of the crypt he can just make out the faintest outline of two bodies, one of which has an aura of dark blue magic. He fires two molten marbles that strike about halfway to the approaching silhouettes.
Chantrea shrieks as the bright white light from the marbles illuminates the two approaching figures. “Kelly? Anne? Please tell me it isn’t so!”
Two emaciated zombies slowly step into the light. Their faces are drawn and pinched, their eyes have dried and shriveled, black dried blood rims their mouths and only a few tufts of straggly bleached blonde hair are still attached to their skulls.
Chantrea moans and covers her eyes. “My poor, poor girls!”
Hiccup snorts. “Fick me to tears, look at these two! Let’s give ‘em the chop and be done with it. There’s booty to loot-y!”
Kelly Bannon Level 10
HP: 613/613
ATK: 99
MATK: 13
DEF: 58
MDF: 64
LUCK: 8
Kelly extends her arms, hisses, and throws herself at Hiccup. He curses, spins aside, swings his ax and slices her arm off.
-100 HP!
Zombie Anne snags Kelly’s flailing arm out of the air. She makes a hoarse barking sound, and Kelly returns to her side.
“Oh, FICK, they’re not supposed to do that shit!”
“Get behind us,” Tamana tells the two gnomes, who are rooted to the spot and show no sign of complying. She keeps one eye on the two zombie sisters while she herds the two gnomes behind Hiccup. With his marble gun still trained on Kelly, Ryuk takes a quick look at Anne’s stats for any clues.
Anne Bannon Level 11
HP: 628/628
MANA: 298/298
ATK: 21
MATK: 119
DEF: 36
MDF: 94
LUCK: 12
She has the stats of some sort of mage …
Anne slaps her sister’s arm back on her stump. A dark blue bubbling of energy moves over Kelly’s shoulder and the arm reattaches. Anne turns to Ryuk and offers him a wicked smile.
He unloads on her, and she deflects his marbles with casual arrogance.
“Anne is self-aware! She’s defending herself – real zombies don’t do that!”
“What?” Tamana gasps and tightens her grip on her sword.
Zombie Kelly’s shuffling charge gives Tamana ample time to swing her giant sword and hack her head off. It hits the floor, bounces once, and Ryuk incinerates it with a molten marble.
Instakill!
Level up!
Ryuk moves up one level, Tamana two, but both of them are too distracted by Anne to check their stats.
Dark blue necrotic magic ripples around Anne’s arms and legs; Hiccup lifts his shield and clashes his ax against it. “Well, you two got her good and pissed by killing her sis. Let’s finish this!”
(x)__(x)
A blast of dark blue energy washes over Hiccup’s shield. He drops it and curses as it blackens, shrivels, and disintegrates into dust. “Fick! That was Cousin Spew’s second-favorite shield!” With a flick of his wrist he launches a tomahawk and she zaps it to dust.
Anne marshals her energy and releases a blast that strikes all five of them.
-80 HP!
The gnomes shriek in dismay; Chantrea starts praying in some unintelligible language.
“I’ve got this.” Tamana grips her sword in both hands and strikes it against the ground. A nimbus of blinding white energy envelops the blade. She winds up, swings, and hurls the brilliant ball of incandescence at the un-zombie.
Anne defends with a shield of necrotic energy, but Tamana’s attack is too strong, too bright.
-183 HP!
Bright light burns all around the zombie mage, but she recovers quickly, snarls as she charges more necrotic energy.
“Fick yeah, Tammy! Jolt her ass again!”
Tamana releases another bolt of blazing white energy.
-221 HP! Critical hit!
This one causes even more damage, and Ryuk doesn’t need the CliffsNotes to tell him that the Zombie Anne is susceptible to white magic. He holsters his marble gun, retrieves his slingshot, and fires a clear marble as he shouts, “Healing Light!”
The marble connects and Anne turns bright orange. She coughs and a burst of flames comes out of her mangled maw. She coughs again, exhales deeply as she comes to understand her new fire-breathing ability.
Anne turns to the three.
Fuck! Simple Request didn’t work!
A wall of hellfire scorches out of her mouth and blasts over them. Ryuk’s vision pane flashes red.
- 90 HP!
“For fick’s sake, Marbles!” Hiccup uses his mechanical hand to bat a fire out on his leg.
“I’ll fix this!” A halo forms around Tamana’s head, and twinkling blips of white light heals the three Mitherfickers and the gnomes.
+55 HP!
The magic dissipates and she returns her free hand to the hilt of her buster sword.
Anne rears back for another blast and Hiccup equips his biggest shield, protecting them from the blazing hellfire. “Someone kill this be-yotch already!”
Ryuk pops up and zips a clear marble over Hiccup’s head. “Healing Light!”
A Simple Request!
-190 HP!
An arc of pure light cuts the zombie teen down; Hiccup casts his shield aside and pitches another tomahawk.
-34 HP!
As undead Anne struggles to pull the tomahawk out of her forehead, Tamana darts in and neatly decapitates her.
Instakill!
Level up!
Tamana leans on her sword and exhales loudly. “Whew!” EXP is doled out and everyone gains yet another level thanks to Dirty Dave’s magic.
“Shit, that was a lot of assfickery just to get some treasure.”
The cantankerous goblin approaches Anne’s decapitated head and nudges it with his boot. “Nope, not gonna make a necrophilia joke,” he mutters under his breath, “not today, anyway.” He brings his ax down onto the head, splitting it in two. “Well? Let’s get the treasure and get the fick out of here. This was supposed to be a fickin’ side quest, not an entire adventure unto itself.”
As Ryuk reholsters his slingshot, he catches some murmuring over his shoulder. Arun is comforting his wife, who is upset and distraught by what’s transpired. Tamana slips her buster sword into its sheath and approaches Chantrea.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asks the gnomette.
“I’ll … ” the granny gnome wipes her nose on her rag of a dress. “I’ll be fine. Just a little shaken up. They, well, Anne, wanted to kill us – us! Can you believe that?” she asks Arun.
“No,” he mumbles, but the serious look in his eyes says differently. “But let’s focus on what’s important right now. Did you feel it?” He shows her his ankles. “The cuffs are gone!”
“They ... ” She lifts her dress and examines her ankles. “They’re gone!”
“We can leave; we can go anywhere, anywhere, Chantrea!”
FeeTwix: What is taking you guys so long!?
Ryuk: Sorry! Zombie and looting issues. Coming now.
He makes the ‘let’s wrap it up’ gesture to Hiccup, who gives Ryuk the thumbs up.
“We have to join our friends and finish off the zombies outside,” Ryuk announces.
“What Marbles means is take us to the treasure now.”
“You stay here,” Arun tells his wife.
“I’ll stay with her,” Tamana says.
“But before we go … ” Arun unclasps a necklace from around his neck and hands it to Ryuk. A small silver circlet formed of superimposed characters hangs from a fine silver chain. “This necklace and pendant was made in Unigaea by Olivas, the renowned master silversmith.”
“Thank you so much,” Ryuk says with a bow.
“Yes, thank you.” Tamana chimes in.
Before Ryuk can examine the necklace, Hiccup is on him like rats on rice.
“Oooo! Shiny!” He snatches the necklace in a blur of motion. “I’ll just hold onto that.” He chortles as he sends it to inventory.
Ryuk bristles but says nothing.
“What? It’s for Twixy to give Liz. I’m just an old romantic at heart!”
Arun steps in front of the two and waves them forward. “Please, follow me.”
Once they reach the far end of crypt, the gnome gingerly kicks his tattered footwear against the thick wooden door. He fumbles around in his tunic for a moment and produces a key. “It’s not as easy as it seems,” Arun says as he starts fiddling with the lock, the face of which is shaped like a lion.
“I think I could have cracked that,” says Hiccup.
The gnome sighs. “This lock would have cracked you. Only authorized users can open it; if you tried, the lion face would have grown to full size and devoured you whole. I watched it happen once. I came down just in time to see it slurp up what was left of the thief. Some hobbit named Dildo Bugger or something.” The lock pops open and Arun waves them in. “Follow me.”
The three enter a small, low-ceilinged room that forces Ryuk to crouch and bend his neck. Directly in front of them are two trunk-sized treasure boxes.
“Now these I can crack!”
“Not so fast, goblin.” Arun points to the chest on the left. “This one must be opened first. There’s nothing inside, but if you open the other one first, you and anyone in your party will die instantly. It’s a pretty powerful algospell; Mr. Bannon paid a dark mage in Valhalla a small fortune to create it.”
“I was going to choose one on the left anyway.” Hiccup grumbles. He pops open the left chest and smoky red magic, thick as a river of blood slithers out forming a dragon’s head. It slides around the room, stops to examine the three men and turns to the exit.
Ryuk returns his focus to the chests. “And Mr. Bannon told you all this, about the trap?”
“I was the one who arranged the creation of the chest,” he explains. “He was banned from the city of Porthos, as I told you, and he sent me there to have them made. The lion lock and the key too.”
“Why did you have a copy made?” Ryuk asks.
Arun chews on his lip for a moment. “I knew my wife and I couldn’t escape, but I figured we could one day use it as collateral.”
“Do you know what’s inside?” Hiccup asks.
Arun places his hand on the closed chest. “Now that I don’t know,” he says nervously. “I do know that Mr. Bannon was fond of collecting rare things.”
“Well, do you think it’s a trap?”
Arun shrugs.
“Whelp, today is an especially auspicious day to die.” Hiccup throws the chest open. Light blazes out of the chest and Ryuk steps up for a better look.
“Fick! What the hell are we going to do with this thing?” Hiccup finally asks. “More importantly, why couldn’t I smell it?”
Chapter 24: An egg for another day
Ryuk, Hiccup, and Tamana stand in front of the Bannons’ toppled gate. There’s moisture in the air and a thick, gray fog has settled over the smoldering village of Kayi. Every now and then, he hears an occasional scream or a desperate shout, but there are considerably fewer than there were when the Mitherfickers first arrived.
“Are you sure we don’t have time to hit any of the other McMansions?” Hiccup asks. “That, was most definitely not the type of treasure I was expecting. I’d see my aromachologist, but I’m pretty sure the dismal health plan coverage offered by our guild doesn’t have anyone in network, and if they did, the fickin’ deductible is so high that I’d probably have to rob the place after I got my prescription.”
“You never shut up, do you?” Tamana asks playfully.
The goblin lifts his helm and runs his mechanical hand through his tufty pink topknot. “I’m a think-out-loud type of goblin, like my father before me and my grandfather before him. Boy, those two never fickin’ shut up. But seriously, I should have smelled it.”
Ryuk opens the Guu-Chee tote bag given to him by Chantrea and once again examines the egg. The size of a soccer ball but oblong, the egg is dark purple with icy blue veins spiraling around it.
“We can deal with the egg later,” Tamana tells Ryuk, “let’s get to the others.”
The egg and the tote dematerialize and appear in Ryuk’s inventory list. While his deet screen is up, he quickly checks the guild’s levels to find that FeeTwix and Zaena have really cleaned up while the three of them were off treasure hunting.
Ryuk Matsuzaki Level 11 Ballistics Mage
HP: 270/350
ATK: 87
MATK: 111
DEF: 67
MDF: 43
LUCK: 10
FeeTwix Fajer Level 15 Berserker Mystic
HP: 228/539
ATK: 119
MATK: 28
DEF: 74
MDF: 38
LUCK: 13
Hiccup Level 11 Shield Thief
HP: 453/475
ATK: 73
MATK: 13
DEF: 141
MDF: 68
LUCK: 24
Zaena Morozon Level 14 Brawler Assassin
HP: 365/489
ATK: 135
MATK: 8
DEF: 90
MDF: 26
LUCK: 14
Tamana Nakamura Level 6 White Warrior
HP: 186/252
MANA: 105/119
ATK: 68
MATK: 12
DEF: 49
MDF: 93
LUCK: 3
“I just can’t believe that I couldn’t smell the dragon egg,” Hiccup waves his hand over his shoulder at the two gnomes, who now peer at them from the window in the parlor. “And these two gnomes … you’d fickin’ think that they’d blow that popsicle stand first thing and be over the horizon toot sweet, but no, Goblinholm Syndrome is a real thing, and these two plan to keep the place up and wait for their masters to respawn, which they will in a couple of days after their avatars wait out the zombie penalty.”
A thought dawns on him. “Or-r-r-r they’re going to fickin’ steal everything that ain’t too hot or too heavy to lug off!” He peers back at them and gives them a big grin and a thumbs up. Arun responds in kind. “Those slick mitherfickers,” the goblins says under his breath.
Hiccup takes the lead and Tamana follows behind as Ryuk reloads his magazines. A mag full of molten marbles was a good thing, and a combo of marbles may be even better. He loads two magazines with alternating black and molten marbles, another with strictly molten marbles, and another one with knife marbles. He fills the last one with clear marbles – his wild card mag.
“I meant to compliment you on the marble gun,” Tamana says, “it is very, very cool, especially after seeing it in action.”
“I’m starting to like being a Ballistics Mage,” he admits. “It was challenging at first, but with this weapon and some of my new skills, it isn’t as bad as I originally thought it would be.”
“See? Like I told you, being a resetter isn’t as bad as you think.” She casts her eyes down. “Well, I guess that is debatable.”
“Woe-is-me and Boo-Fickin’ Hoo,” says Hiccup, “think of it this way, Tammy, now, you’re like me and you don’t have to deal with real world shit. Job, school, taxes, et cetera.”
“But you have to deal with all those things in here,” she reminds him as they pass the law office of Sloon Olson Nolos and Associates, which is on the outskirts of the town square.
“Job? Pfft! What job? You mean being a guildhall security guard? That’s the easiest job I’ve ever had. Hell, half the time I’m gob-napping or checking out the latest issues of Goblin Holes. School? Yeah, but just Thulean grammar school, which was a breeze. Teacher was hot as fick too. Taxes? Like I pay those. You have to pay me for me to pay taxes. Speaking of which, where’s my four percent?”
“You spent it in Sotla,” Ryuk tells him. “And it’s two percent.”
“I thought it was three … ”
The sounds of zombies moaning, followed by the percussive utterances of a submachine gun echo down the street.
“That bloody Swede and his alien weapons,” Hiccup comments, “just kidding, the faster we kill the zulus, the faster we can get back to Aramis and get those nuru massages I was telling you about.”
“The … what massages?” Ryuk knows exactly what a nuru massage is and he’s surprised to hear Hiccup call it by name.
“I knew that would catch your attention! Kid, I know killing zomb-orcs is fun and all, but when you’re ready to let your hair down and see the other side of orcs, or the underside of orcs if you get my drift … ” He catches up to Ryuk and nudges him with his mechanical arm.
An ASF zombie limps from an alley towards the three. A naked one-armed female orc zombie is right behind him.
The black marble takes the fem-orc’s head right off.
Instakill!
Tamana has room to swing her ironing board sword and executes a very flashy spin-twirl-swoop-and-chop. The ASF zombie collapses in a well-partitioned heap; his detached head still glowers and grimaces even as she gives it the final chop.
At the end of the street, Zaena wields her four blades like she’s both pairs in a doubles sabre fencing tournament. The undead are stacked around her in her own impromptu Hesco barrier.
“Come on!” he tells the others, as he leads the charge. The shuffling dead claw their way up the corpse pile, and Zaena neatly lops heads as they stick them up. Ryuk unloads the magazine of black marbles and thins the crowd around her.
“Ryuk,” she smiles as he joins her. With a flick of her wrists, she decapitates the next clambering corpse.
He’s about to ask where FeeTwix is when the ripping snarl of a minigun moots his question. The Swede has a six-pack’s worth of empty, store brand healing potion bottles at his feet, and he sips yet another as he unleashes a storm of supersonic metal at an approaching cluster of the living impaired. -86 HP! -75 HP! -30 HP! -9 HP! An unmanned minigun mounted on a tripod fires short, economical bursts as it covers their backs.
“He called it a remote sentry weapon system,” Zaena explains, slightly out of breath. “It is triggered by movement. I dislike many of the alien weapons he has brought to our world, but that one has been most useful.”
“Liz!” Hiccup cries as he approaches. “We found one of your cousins.”
Her eyes narrow on the goblin as she says, “Schloni tugtukh.”
“A ghost ficker, eh? Well, hello to you too, darling! Marbles, show her the egg.”
“Watch my back,” Ryuk tells Tamana.
“Did you think I would let you die?” She holds her surfboard-sword at the ready and keeps her eyes on the avenues of approach. The designer tote bag takes shape in Ryuk’s hand, and Zaena gasps when he shows her the contents.
“You found the egg of an ice dragon?”
“Found is … umm, yeah, we found it.”
She touches it. “That’s really what it is! We need to get this to an incubator. We need to … ”
“Incoming!” Tamana steadies her blade.
As Ryuk raises his marble gun a message flashes on his viewing pane. “Fuck,” he gulps. “I need to log out. Now.”
“What is it?”
“Hajime just sent me a message.”
“And?”
“My brother is at my place.” Ryuk takes a deep breath.
Concern flashes across Tamana’s eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he assures her as he fires a molten marble at an approaching zombie, “I’ll be back in as soon as I can. For now, I’ll set my avatar to auto-level.” Ryuk lifts his finger and the option menu appears. After a quick bow, he makes the necessary adjustments and logs out.
Chapter 25: Drop in, drop out
Ryuk waits for his haptic chair to power down. As his vision blurs into focus, a bubbly advertisement for Mister Donut plays across his iNet screen. In the ad, a kawaii girl with pigtails and a schoolgirl outfit looks into the holes of a pair of donuts and says something in a high-pitched voice about two-for-one donuts this week only.
He hardly pays attention.
His nerves are jumping and the sense of impending doom relentlessly reverberates through him. Ryuk rubs his eyes and his ears prick up at a conversation in the living room. He’s suddenly hot, his temperature through the roof. Off goes his hooded black sweater, and after he finger combs his hair, he reluctantly exits his safe haven.
“Glad you could join us. Glad I could finally get you out of that stupid fucking game of yours.” Kodai sits on the couch, behind the glass coffee table, sipping from a cup of green tea. Hajime is across from him, in the black sofa chair. No basket hat at the moment – the humandroid has his long hair pulled back into a tight manbun. He looks at Ryuk and smiles calmly.
“Why are you here?” Ryuk’s shoulders tense and he clenches his fists. He relaxes them, but the tension in his shoulders remains.
“Can’t I visit my own brother?” Kodai casually sets his tea down on the coffee table. He leans back for a moment and bares his teeth in a humorless grin.
Ryuk glances to the door. Where’s Gorira? Usually, his brother’s shadow of a henchman is always close by. He yawns and stretches his hands over his head to cover the fact that he’s firing off a message to Hajime.
Ryuk: Where are his men?
Hajime: Outside.
Ryuk: Why is he here?
Hajime: Likely to make a point.
Confidence swells Ryuk’s chest as he says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Cut the bullshit, Kodai, what the fuck do you want?”
“I told you,” he grits, “I’m here to see you.”
“You can message me. You don’t need to come here to see me, especially after what you did the other day. It’s 2075, message me.”
“The bruises on your face are healing nicely.” Kodai rests both elbows on his knees and looks up at Ryuk. He admires his handiwork for another moment before saying, “I’ll make a man out of you yet, if I can ever get you to fight back, that is.”
Confidence boils over again as Ryuk hisses, “Try it, bitch.” His fingers tingle now, a sinking feeling in his chest forces him to lower his shoulders. With a deep breath, he pulls his shoulders back and holds them in place. Stay strong.
“Both of you, relax,” Hajime stands. “There is clearly animosity between you two, and threats will do nothing to quell this animosity.”
“Keep your fucking mouth shut, droid!” Kodai snaps.
“Allow me to remind you that my directive is to protect Ryuk, your brother, whom you should not abuse or assault.”
Kodai laughs as he reaches into his jacket pocket. “I’m going to show you both something that you’ll really like.”
“I’m aware that you have a humgun,” Hajime says.
“A humgun?” asks Ryuk. The tone of his voice activates a rapid search on his iNet feed. Pictures of humstunners appear over a brief description: A humgun, humstunner, or humandroid stunner, is a hand-held device which forcibly overrides a humandroid’s auto-reboot protocol. Once so disabled, a humandroid cannot self-reboot and must be taken to an authorized service and repair facility for an externally induced ‘hard’ reboot.
Kodai brandishes a small silver pistol with a bulbous muzzle. “Take your seat,” he directs the humandroid. “Sit on your hands and keep silent. If you interfere, I will disable you and personally see to it that your reboot process includes a personality wipe.”
Hajime steps away from Kodai and takes his seat.
(0)__(0)
“You’re a real piece of shit,” Ryuk bites his lip, surprised that he has the courage to speak.
“Where were we?” Kodai is on his feet now, his humgun still aimed at Hajime. “Let’s have a simple, pleasant conversation, Ryuk, shall we?”
“Just ... Just leave me alone and let me live my life!” He points a shaky finger at his older brother. “Get the fuck out of my apartment and LET ME LIVE MY LIFE!”
Kodai’s dark eyes narrow in on his brother. “You can live your life all you want, as long as you do what I tell you to do and what mother expects of you. It’s as simple as that.”
“Is this about her?” Ryuk shakes his head in disbelief. “Don’t you see, Kodai? Can’t you understand what’s going on here? You’ll never be our father and you’ll never be able to run the business as well as he did! You’re her puppet! A fucking puppet!”
“Stay there,” Kodai again motions at Hajime with his weapon, “if you try anything, you’re done.” He steps around the coffee table. The afternoon sun is visible over his shoulder, increasing the length of his shadow. “I’m going to forget what you just said. I’m going to forget how you disrespected me. Consider yourself lucky for this. You really don’t know what I’m capable of.”
Ryuk’s knees feels rubbery and weak, but he manages to take a few steps towards his brother. I will stand my ground, he thinks, I will not let you bully me again, he subvocalizes.
“What was that?” Kodai asks.
“Get the fuck out of my home!” Something odd happens to Ryuk’s pane of vision that reminds him of his Extreme Focus skill in Tritania. The corners dim and he suddenly feels as if he’s looking through Kodai to the coffee table behind him directly at …
Kodai takes a step closer to his younger brother. “Are you challenging me?”
“I’ll tell you one thing you aren’t capable of … ” The words flow out of Ryuk’s mouth, seemingly of their own volition. He closes the distance between them. “You aren’t … aren’t capable of completing college! I know what happened at NYU, you lying sack of shit!”
Kodai is speechless as Ryuk slams both hands against his older brother’s chest, pushing him backwards into the glass coffee table.
The sound of shattering glass and the thud of Kodai hitting the floor loom large in the apartment. Hajime springs to his feet and plucks the humgun from Kodai’s grasp just as the door explodes inward.
Gorira leads the charge gun first, and is quickly met by Hajime, who disarms the man-mountain with insolent ease, spins him to act as a shield, and tucks the muzzle of Gorira’s own gun up under his ear. “Pick up your employer and leave, all of you.” Hajime instructs the other two. “Do it now.”
The two help Kodai up out of the wreckage of the glass coffee table.
Blood dribbles from a gash in his palm and there’s a tear along the sleeve of his Kiton suit jacket. With a wordless cry of rage, he leaps for Ryuk, only to be restrained by his own two men. Kodai screams again, flicks blood on the floor, raises a single finger at his younger brother and grits his teeth as he says, “I won’t forget this! You will never disrespect me again!” He pulls his arm free from his goons and storms into Ryuk’s room.
There is the unmistakable sound of electronic equipment being smashed, and Ryuk knows instantly what Kodai has done.
Ryuk’s legs go wobbly as Kodai steps out of the bedroom.
“Fuck you.” Kodai throws the broken NV Visor into his chest; it bounces off and lands at his feet. “This isn’t over.”
With that, he marches right out the front door, followed by his two thugs. He doesn’t so much as look at Gorira, who is still held by Hajime.
Once Kodai and his posse are out, Hajime releases Gorira but keeps the gun trained on him. “Leave.”
“My gun,” Gorira says.
“Later.” Hajime motions to the door. “Leave now.”
Chapter 26: Kaizen
“Well, that certainly went poorly,” Hajime observes.
Ryuk nods and swallows a breath of what has to be the freshest, most life-sustaining gulp of air he’s ever tasted. His brother’s blood spatters the wall and the carpet here and there; his broken NV Visor is more liberally smeared with it.
“Order another one.” Hajime drops the magazine from Gorira’s hand cannon and places it on a side table, racks the slide and catches the oversized round in mid-air. He examines the humgun for a moment, noting its make and model. “If you order a new visor on Rakuten, it’ll be here within the hour. Your chair will take a day to arrive.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Ryuk manages to say.
A sense of freedom washes over him and for once, he doesn’t feel like logging in. His avatar can handle the zombie battles for now, and he’ll see Tamana soon enough anyway. He should be ordering a new visor, he should be coming down from the adrenaline high, he should be doing something other than standing here, frozen as if he’s been struck in the chest by a time marble. But as he stands there a thought becomes crystal clear – none of this matters.
Once he is done here, he can spend eternity with Tamana. The real world is irrelevant. His feud with his brother? Pointless. His family business? Immaterial.
But an RPC isn’t really you.
And the cold, hard corollary to that comes to him unbidden – it isn’t really Tamana either.
Ryuk knows this, knows that she is simply a highly complex arrangement of ones and zeroes created by D-NAS, that she is really no more alive than Hajime. But knowing and truly understanding the implications of such a statement are very different things.
He stands in his living room and surveys the chaos before him, as the thoughts come at him a mile-a-minute, Ryuk makes the choice right then to take command of his future. He’ll become an RPC and he’ll live forever that way, but until that day comes he will live without fear or regret. He will seize his own reality in a way he has never contemplated before. He will stand up to Kodai; he will attend the Proxima school that he’s been eyeing for the past year now; he won’t follow in his father’s footsteps, but he will learn about manipulating power.
“I want to keep the gun,” he tells Hajime. “I mean, guns, I want to keep them both.”
“Oh?” Hajime considers this for a moment. “Do you think that when the time comes you will have the resolve to use them?”
“I really don’t know; I just want to feel safe and I don’t want to be a … ” He wants to say ‘target’ but this doesn’t see like the right word. Neither does the word ‘victim’.
Ryuk bites his lip as he takes in the humandroid standing before him. Hajime is calm and collected, as if he’s just woken up from a pleasant nap and is on his way to a meditation class. Meanwhile, he’s on pins and needles, in a weird state of existential self-reflection, sure, but there isn’t much he can verbalize at the moment, which makes it strange that the only request he has is to weapon up.
“I’ve ordered you a replacement visor from Rakuten,” Hajime informs him. “It should be here within the next hour.”
“Are you trying to distract me?” Ryuk asks.
“No, I’m trying to comfort you. If you are interested in the weapons, I will show you how to use them. Are you hungry?”
Ryuk notices the prompt doesn’t have his manga-stylized face in the corner this time, likely because Hajime is trying to be serious. And this is how he shows me? Even amidst the destruction in the room, his existential bullshit, and the adrenaline still pulsing in his veins, Ryuk has to smile. “I’m not hungry.”
“Tea?”
“Sure.”
“Why don’t you sit?” Hajime suggests. “Not there, at the dining room table. I can tell that you are thinking deeply about something.”
“You can tell, huh?” Ryuk takes a seat at the table. He hears Hajime click on the plastic kettle to boil water for tea and he listens to the water bubble and hiss until Hajime’s hand on his shoulder draws his attention. “I may not be human, but I can ‘sense’ things, if you expand your definition of the word ‘sense’ to mean ‘perceive chemical changes and other indicators of human emotion.’ Whatever is on your mind, let me say this.”
Ryuk looks up at him.
“You did well back there, Ryuk. You stood your ground and finally were able to emphasize the difference between you and your brother, by overcoming your fear of him and being cognizant of your surroundings. Don’t think I didn’t see you quickly glance to the coffee table. Don’t think I didn’t see you approach him in a way that you’d be in a position to push Kodai into it. That took guts, it took cunning – something that you humans have and that I do not fully possess. We humandroids are logical entities that can do many things, but the sort of quick, visceral cunning you exhibited comes only with tens of thousands of years of evolution.”
Hajime pauses to let his words sink in. “But I gave you two quotes to consider, the second being faced with a choice, do both. This lesson is far from complete and if I’m not mistaken, I think your ultimate quest is far from over.”
With that, he turns to the kitchen to make Ryuk a cup of green tea.
Chapter 27: Shogyo Mujo
Ryuk grips the sleek, biodegradable black box that the NV Visor comes in.
The visor has been over-packaged, and it takes him a good five minutes to get through the tape, rip through the inner box, undo the felt bag, take off the plastic wrapping, tear off the plastic covering the visor, unpack the wireless DHDNI, undo multiple twist ties, and remove the lining cover from the inside of the visor.
After placing the wireless DHDNI on top of a crescent-shaped Proxima router, he lies down on his bed and gets under the single sheet. The warmth he felt earlier is gone, replaced by a bitter cold that shows no signs of relenting. The blanket should help, but he turns his heating unit on over iNet just to be sure. After setting the automatic time-off to an hour later, Ryuk relaxes onto his pillow, takes a deep breath, and puts the NV Visor over his head.
The familiar tone and the Proxima logo appears, welcoming him.
The visor has already synced with the life chip implanted in Ryuk’s head, and the Tritania desktop he’s chosen takes shape and presents him with a live feed of his guild’s progress and a spawning point. A prompt appears, he selects ‘yes’, and sine waves slowly start to ripple across his pane of vision. Feedback picks up, and after a moment of this, his consciousness shifts and Ryuk is suddenly back in his avatar’s body, joining the Mitherfickers in the town square. The Aramis Security Force has also joined them and are methodically eliminating the walking dead.
Ryuk Matsuzaki Level 13 Ballistics Mage
HP: 232/378
ATK: 91
MATK: 120
DEF: 69
MDF: 42
LUCK: 10
FeeTwix Fajer Level 17 Berserker Mystic
HP: 129/600
ATK: 140
MATK: 28
DEF: 81
MDF: 40
LUCK: 13
Hiccup Level 12 Shield Thief
HP: 303/525
ATK: 76
MATK: 13
DEF: 156
MDF: 74
LUCK: 25
Zaena Morozon Level 16 Brawler Assassin
HP: 233/563
ATK: 165
MATK: 8
DEF: 93
MDF: 28
LUCK: 14
Tamana Nakamura Level 10 White Warrior
HP: 180/367
MANA: 121/233
ATK: 84
MATK: 19
DEF: 61
MDF: 95
LUCK: 4
He swipes the stats away after checking their new levels – his due to auto-leveling – and looks to Tamana, who’s hacked and stacked a credible body count. She’s a bit bruised and battered, but Ryuk sees that she’s better off than some of the others.
FeeTwix, his eyes solid black, gives Ryuk the thumbs up and fires a burst of unforgiving metal into the face of a zomb-orc. Not far from the Swede, Hiccup axes his way one-handed through an onslaught of zombie kindergarteners while nursing a healing potion with his non-mechanical hand. Across from him, the Thulean swordswoman single-mindedly serves up a second death to all of those who come within reach of her four whirling blades.
“How was it out there?” Tamana asks. An iridescent light twists up her free hand as she holds it in the air. After a halo forms, a pixelated snowburst of white magic shoots into the air that sprinkles onto the group. +75 HP!
“Never mind.” Ryuk pops out a magazine of black marbles and replaces it with a magazine of molten marbles. He aims at an approaching orc zombie of unusual size and melts its head off.
Instakill!
“Look at these fickin’ things – they’re like rabid fickin’ rats!” Hiccup sends another necrotic preschooler off for a dirt nap, finishes his healing potion, and overhand tosses it into the face of the nearest zombie ankle biter. Ryuk flambés the last one of the group with a molten marble.
Instakill!
With his goat-horned helmet tucked under his arm, the goblin rakes his mechanical fingers through a serious case of pink helmet-hair. He huffs and sighs, and fixes his gaze on Ryuk. “Seriously,” he says, “I’m fickin’ sick of killing zombies. We got some EXP and leveled up a bit, now let’s get back to the Mondegreen and get a bit of rest before tonight’s festivities.”
Tamana nods, proud of herself. “I’m almost caught up with you guys!”
Ryuk: They want to go back. Tired of fighting zombies?
FeeTwix: Ha! I was number three on Dead City’s leader board. Number three, the two above me were RPCs. I never get tired of killing zombies, nor should anyone. However, if you guys want to bail, I’m down.
Ryuk watches as Zaena gives FeeTwix a quick nod. He gets the sense that while he may talk a lot of smack, FeeTwix is actually running out of steam. His tommy gun disappears and he lifts his finger to select a new spawning point. “See you on the other side.”
Zaena and FeeTwix dematerialize in a flash of pixeled goodness; Tamana and Hiccup are up next, and the last one to bail is Ryuk.
The five guildmates take shape in their cramped room at the Mondegreen Hostel. As soon as they do, and before Hiccup can fart, burp, chug a healing potion, or make a ribald remark, they hear a faint knock at the door.
“I’ve brought refreshments.” Jim the hostelier bows slightly at Hiccup after the goblin has opened the door, and with a courtly flourish whisks the silver cover from a tray of dainties. Steam gently wafts from a platter of dragon wings and assorted hors d’oeuvres.
“Listen up, Mitherfickers,” Hiccup calls over his shoulder, “the dragon wings are mine; the rest is up for grabs.”
“No need to be greedy; there are plenty more,” Jim tells him.
Hiccup steps up to Jim and gives him the goblin eye. “If there’s more,” he says with a growl, “why didn’t you bring them?”
Jim narrows his eyes, his good natured smile fades. “If these do not meet your exacting standards, I can always take them away and you can find your own meal.”
“Um, no, these’ll be just fine, thank-you very much.” Hiccup gracefully takes the tray from him. “I was just fickin’ with you, Jimmy ol’ pal. To make things easier, I’ll go ahead and take the entire tray. The rest can have whatever they’d like. Shit, before I forget.” A necklace appears in his mechanical hand. “Twixy, this is for you to give to Liz, as you requested.”
He tosses the necklace to FeeTwix, who turns to Zaena with a sheepish smile on his face. “That’s not exactly how I was hoping that would go.”
“It’s wonderful!” She turns, allowing FeeTwix to clasp the chain with the small silver circlet around her neck.
With that, the goblin clomps right past Ryuk with a tray full of steaming dragon wings and plops down onto the nearest bed.
“Ahem.” Jim straightens the front of his black tuxedo. “And for the rest of you?”
“I’ll have some tea,” Tamana tells him, “something with mink’s willow to restore my MP.”
“Do you have any macaroons?” Zaena asks. FeeTwix nudges her with his elbow. “What?” Her high cheekbones flush red, which provides an interesting contrast to her orange bob and her green tint. “Not those type of macaroons!” She playfully slaps him with her ghost limb.
Ryuk laughs and the pressure he’s felt for the last hour dissipates. His group, his newfound friends, have a way of lightening the dark corners of his life. The fact that Tamana is there only makes the feeling that much better, adding a true sense of familiarity to the group.
Hiccup interrupts his little moment by beating his chest with his fist. “Damn generic healing potions and my fickin’ heartburn. Jim, get me a couple of Hopkins’ Holistic Healing Nostrums and make it snappy. Well, it doesn’t need to be snappy, but when you come back, bring some and bill the guild.” He gives Ryuk a shit-eating grin. “The helm that Dirty Dave gave me really hooked us the fick up.”
He spreads his grubby hands in front of him and a pile of rupees fall to the floor; he snaps his mechanical fingers and they disappear.
FeeTwix plunks down next to Hiccup and puts his arm around the goblin’s shoulder. “You are one crazy mitherficker,” he tells Hiccup, his eyes still black. “You have an actual fan group now; just thought you’d like to know that.”
“How many?”
“Twenty-thousand. They are calling themselves ‘The Fickers.’ They love how OP you are.”
“What?” Hiccup points at FeeTwix’s black eyes. “Listen, Fickers, if you want my love, if you really want my respect, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want. I want to see thirty-three thousand members by tomorrow morning. Also, um, FeeTwix, what are you currently hawking?”
The Swede’s eyes flash blue. “The Old Banana Navy Gap Republic is having an epic sale on women’s jewelry for Valentine’s Day. Sixty percent off all jewelry with the mention of #FeeTwixRox online or in retail stores.” His eyes turn black again.
Hiccup grins. “Also, I want you all to get your asses to Old … ” he gives FeeTwix a confused look. “What the fick was it?”
“The Old Banana Navy Gap Republic.”
“Whatever the fick he just said. Go there, and buy some of that shit and wear it.”
“It’s jewelry for women.”
“Great! Strike a blow for gender neutrality or something! Buy fick-tons of it, and tell them Uncle Goblin sent you!”
“The discount code is #FeeTwixRox.”
“Fick this, I give up.” Hiccup throws his hands up in the air and returns to his dragon wings.
(0)__(0)
As the others eat, and as FeeTwix tries several times to explain to Hiccup how to correctly market and live-sell a product, Tamana moves towards Ryuk and motions him to the door. They step out into the lobby and take a seat in on a green sofa that, like most of the decor in this place, doesn’t quite fit the fantasy parameters.
“Tell me what happened out there.” She lifts a strand of white hair out of her face and tucks it into the braid on the side. “I know you, Ryuk, I know something happened.”
His thoughts regarding RPCs and their “realness” come to him and he pushes them far away. She’s here, and that’s what matters.
“As I told you before I logged out – my brother stopped by.”
“And?”
“He threatened Hajime with a weapon that shuts down humandroids.”
“Really?” She places her hand over her mouth; the concern on her face is one of the more genuine things he has seen in a while, even if it is fake, he reminds himself.
“He came at me and … ” Ryuk relives the experience, the sound of the shattering table, the blood. “I pushed him into my coffee table and he broke it. Hurt himself too.”
Tamana moves back. “You shoved him?”
“Yeah.” Ryuk bites his lip. “I was, still am, sick of his shit. He can kill me for all I care! He will no longer intimidate me.”
She looks away and is quiet for a moment. Finally, she turns back to Ryuk. “Don’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“That he can kill you. I don’t want you to die.”
“But I don’t care if I live, so that makes dying a lot easier. That, and the fact that I will spawn here, and we can … ”
She looks away. “I don’t want you to think that way about dying. It’s too serious to be trivialized. Yes, you can come here as an RPC once you die, but I don’t want you to think of it as some type of backup plan. You need to live, enjoy your life up there, get married, have kids …”
“I don’t want any of that.” Ryuk grabs Tamana’s hand. “I want you, that’s it. Not someone else up there. I want what we have here.”
Shogyo Mujo, Ryuk thinks, all worldly things are transitory.
“Don’t … you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re just going through a lot right now. I’m not real.” She runs her hands along the front of her avatar’s body to make her point. “I’m an RPC, which as you know, is just a very well-designed NPC. The Tamana you knew up there is dead.”
“No, she’s right here.” He squeezes her hand even harder.
“That’s not the way it is, Ryuk, and you know that.”
He releases her hand and sits back for a moment, thinking of what to say next. “Do you remember the RPC couples we’ve met in Valhalla and other places?”
“I do.”
“We can be like them.”
A sad smile moves across her face. “But you’re not an RPC and, I don’t even know if that’s the kind of relationship we should have right now.”
His heart sinks. “So you wouldn’t have said yes, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
When I asked you out before the incident. You never gave me an answer. The date.” He looks away.
“Of course I would have said yes. I was … ” She clears her throat. “It was just unexpected. I was going to message you later and tell you yes. Honest.”
Ryuk’s eyes fill with joy. “Tamana, you know everything about me, even my family’s dark past, and I know everything about you, all of it. There isn’t another person, in the real world or in the Proxima Galaxy who is a better fit for me.”
Her eyes soften. “You think so?”
“I do, I really do, and I’ve never been able to say it and damn me for finally having the guts to tell you now. I’m here for you, forever, and I will be here in Tritania forever when my RW avatar moves on.”
She takes Ryuk’s hand and brings it to her chest, just above her heart. “If you can accept me for who I’ve become, if you can truly accept me, then I support any decision you make. Just, please, don’t do anything hasty; don’t be careless with your life. Try to live as long as you can; be a positive influence on the world up there and we can grow what we already have here.”
“Oh, fick me to tears – what is this, the Junior Prom?” Hiccup stands at the exit of their room with an empty tray of dragon wings in his greasy, sauce besmeared goblin beaters. “You two are just about the most pathetic virgins I’ve ever come across.”
Ryuk whips his hand away from Tamana’s chest.
“Ha! You finally get your chance to cop a feel and you let your old Uncle Goblin stop you? Pfft! Grab on, my friend, grab on.” Hiccup deposits the tray on the check-in desk. “And you,” he tells Jim, who now stands behind the desk. “What kind of perv gets his jollies watching some icky-sweet display of puppy love? Talk about a voyeuristic ficker.”
With the speed of a striking cobra, Jim grabs the mouthy goblin by an oversized ear and bangs his head on the tray. “Yoy!”
Jim’s eyes narrow on him. “I endeavor to be a gracious and tolerant host. If you wish to continue to enjoy the hospitality of this establishment, I suggest you show me some courtesy and respect.”
He bangs Hiccup’s head against the tray one last time for emphasis.
“Yoy! Yoy! Yoy! Easy there, Jimmie boy! Sorry, I was just fickin’ with you,” exclaims the slightly chastened goblin. “It’s the store brand healing potions I tells ya. They always leave me in a bad mood. But that’s not what’s important. Look, Jim, we got big plans tonight, and while these two are hand-holding and doing the mooncalf eyes thing out here, Lizzy and Twixy are in our room tickling and cuddling in a way that makes my tum-tum do nip-ups. Fick it. I guess everyone has their own way to unwind. What I’m trying to say is … ” Hiccup’s eyes suddenly lose focus, and for two heartbeats he’s silent. “Where was I?” he asks, as he shakes it off.
“You were talking about your guildmates’ relaxational pursuits.”
“That’s right! Damn Goblinheimer’s. It’s early onset, and I got a good fifty to a hundred more years in me before I’m being spoonfed and having my starfish wiped by a hot elf nurse. Anyfickin’hoo, as I was saying, the two in there already know which hole the ding-dong goes, these two, not so much. Sad!”
“Is that what you came to tell me?” Jim asks.
“No, I came to tell ... erm, to ask you to fry me up another round of dragon wings and make’em spicier this time, as I’d like it to burn on both ends.” The goblin turns to Ryuk. “And I came to tell you two to quit fickin’ around and get your asses in here so we can figure out the best way to not die tonight.”
The goblin punctuates his exit with a basso-profundo trouser shout, and an almost palpable stench wafts into the air. Tamana pinches her nose and now it’s Ryuk’s turn to laugh. “You get used to it,” he assures her.
Jim produces a cut crystal bottle with a custom-crafted spray top and delicately spritzes the air with industrial strength pine scent.
(0)__(x)
Back in their room, Ryuk paces back and forth and tries to recall the layout of the Shinigami’s guild quarters. The goblin sits on the bed, finger up his nose as he desultorily mines a nostril. Across from him are FeeTwix and Zaena, and Tamana occupies a low footstool.
“After the ass-whooping you gave those fickboys last night, they are going to be tooled the fick up and waiting for trouble.”
“Hiccup’s right,” says Zaena. “We surprised them last night with stealth and subtlety; tonight, we’ll have to blast our way in.”
“Really? And you’re okay with the use of non-traditional weapons?” FeeTwix rubs his hands together.
“They worked quite well against the zombies,” she admits.
FeeTwix suggests, “Let’s go in through the sewers – there are sewers in this world, right?”
Ryuk shakes his head. “In this world, yes, there are sewers beneath the Giants’ city of Wartlinga on the continent of Polynya. But here in Aramis beneath the guild district, I’m going to go with no.”
Tamana snaps her fingers. “I’ve got an idea!”
The four Mitherfickers turn to her.
“Here’s what we do, and don’t laugh at the idea before I can finish explaining it,” she scolds the goblin. “We come in as guild sanitation workers. They open their gates and we hit them, plain and simple. Remember, they’re not really expecting us to hit them twice in a row; they’re expecting us to run and hide.”
“Do you think they’ll buy it?” FeeTwix asks.
“Of course they’ll buy it,” Hiccup says on the tail end of a burp. “That’s the thing about looking official – you can get away with some real fickery. Hell, with the right clothes, anyone can get away with anything. That’s the same in your world, right?”
Ryuk considers Japan’s parliament members. “Yes, it’s roughly the same.”
“Well, fick me then, that’s the plan! I’ll get us some sanitation outfits. Let me see … ” He hops to his feet, grimaces at a pain in his lower back. “Fick, this is a good idea.” He claps his hands together as he makes his way to the door. “I’m glad I had it!”
Tamana raises her finger to say something but Ryuk gives her a look that says it’s not worth it.
Zaena looks to Ryuk. “I like this idea, but I think that if we all come in weapons waving and guns a-blazing, it’ll be too easy to pick us off. Better to diversify our attack and not all come in from the front. Here’s what I think: Ryuk and I can provide fire support from the top of the wall. We can set up just before you two and the goblin arrive,” she tells FeeTwix and Tamana.
“Jim, make those dragon wings to go!” Ryuk hears Hiccup call from outside their door.
“Fire support? Are you going toss swords or something?”
“No, dear.” She pats FeeTwix’s cheek. “If you didn’t know, and clearly you don’t, I’m quite proficient with a bow, as are many of the Assassin class. I can use two bows with ghost limbs, and though I’m not quite as good as I am with the swords, I think you’ll find my skills more than adequate.”
“This will work,” Ryuk takes Hiccup’s seat on the bed, but only after inspecting it for skid marks, teeny-weeny livestock, or any other little gob-souvenir Uncle Hiccup may have left behind.
He places his five magazines on the bed and empties them as Zaena continues to plan. For fire support, he decides that the clear marbles won’t be of much use, and if he has to he can shoot those with his slingshot. He quickly does the math and goes with four magazines loaded with alternating molten and black marbles and one loaded exclusively with knife marbles.
Zaena continues to elaborate on the plan. “We’ll take out whatever is outside first.”
“What about the mages?” Ryuk asks.
She scrunches up her nose as she considers this. “I really don’t know; we really got lucky last time.”
“They won’t come into the courtyard,” says Tamana.
“What makes you think that?” Ryuk asks.
“A hunch. Even if they are out looking for us, they’ll want to protect that energy source they have in the cellar, and my guess is that they’ve moved it inside, down to the basement where it’s easier to protect.”
FeeTwix equips two Glock 19 Gen 4s and puts them in holsters that form under his arms. An ankle holster takes shape on his leg and he secures a Colt .380 Mustang Light in it.
Zaena smirks, “That little one is kind of cute.”
“That’s my last resort,” he tells her. “Back to the plan: you two provide suppressing fire while we mop up the fuckers at ground level. Then we move inside. My fans have already sent me a schematic of the inside of the guild, which I’ll forward to you all. There’s a grand entrance and plenty of space, but the other part of the building is a single upstairs room, a kitchen area, and a basement, all connected by a single flight of stairs. Hold up.”
FeeTwix’s eyes flash black as his mirror appears in his hand. He gives his audience a dashing smile. “Hey everyone! Just a reminder to not touch that dial while my feed is off-line! Keep playing and streaming to earn bonus points – and remember, one lucky winner will receive a three-year TwitchTube Red subscription, absolutely free of charge – plus a ton of other cool schwag personally autographed by me! No purchase necessary, winner will be selected by random drawing. And as if that wasn’t enough – Wendy’s Hut is having a world-wide special promotion starting tomorrow. Mention #FeeTwixRox at the checkout to get half off a Triple Bacon Chili Pepper Jack Burger Light with any personal-sized pizza purchase. The Triple Bacon Chili Pepper Jack Burger Light features Wendy’s Hut’s proprietary genetically modified meat and cheese to give you all that tasty goodness at a quarter of the calories of the regular Triple Bacon Chili Pepper Jack Burger. Love you guys and stay tuned, the Mitherfickers are getting live tonight! ”
Zaena tilts her head and wrinkles her forehead. “Wait, is it triple bacon on a burger or triple burger with bacon?”
FeeTwix’s eyes turn blue again. “No idea, honey. Just doing my job.”
Chapter 28: Aramis Solid Waste Management and Abatement Service
Dark clouds pass in front of a yellow moon; a breeze draws a meditative melody from a single wind chime on the balcony of a two-story guildhall. A dog barks somewhere in the distance, the clip-clop of a horse and carriage echoes down the street.
Ryuk and Zaena are clad in the leather tunic and thick-soled, knee high boots of the Aramis Solid Waste Management and Abatement Service. Zaena stops, examines the rooftops, and waits for the breeze to subside. Ryuk is also on high-alert: his Extreme Focus skill narrows his pane of vision and Magic Eye adds soft hues to everything he focuses on.
The Thulean assassin stops in front of a two-story guildhall whose property abuts the alley behind the Shinigami. It’s separated from the street by a small iron fence, which squeaks as she uses her ghost limb to open it. After a sidelong glance at Ryuk, she enters and he follows behind her. The two walk down a pathway of large trapezoidal stepping stones that is bordered with tall cylindrical shrubs.
At the front door, Zaena smooths the front of her borrowed uniform and knocks with her ghost limb.
An old man’s voice rings out, “Who is it?”
“Aramis Solid Waste Management and Abatement Service,” Ryuk says. He clears his throat and tries again, in a deeper, more confident voice. “Aramis Solid Waste Management and Abatement Service.”
“Solid Waste Management and Abatement Service?”
With a rattle of chains and clicking of deadbolts, the door swings inward to reveal an older PC. He sports the de rigueur cleric look – long robes of an indeterminate color, flowing white beard, bushy eyebrows and a pointy wizard’s hat, complete with stars and moons and hex symbols. His stats appear above his head as he peers at the two, his untrimmed brows rise toward the brim of his hat.
Dark Healer Level 17
HP: 431/431
MANA: 342/342
ATK: 29
MATK: 146
DEF: 48
MDF: 74
LUCK: 11
“You sure have picked a strange hour to visit. Isn’t it late for public service minions to be out and about?”
Minions?
“We’re, um, running behind schedule today because of, um, some things that happened in Bar Row,” Zaena tells him. “There was a big brawl, lots of damage and debris and we’re still trying to get a handle on it.”
“It was goblins,” Ryuk chimes in.
“Fucking goblins. Wait, did you say Bar Row? No one else from my guild mentioned it. They’re there now,” his visage darkens, “pissing away all the rupees we earned through a side quest on the outskirts of Shiya. Dumbasses. Okay, well, the stuff is out back. I’d open the side gate, but I’m afraid it is overgrown with vines at the moment! Please, come in, and let me make you some tea while you are here.”
Ryuk bows his head. “We are in a bit of a hurry to catch up and finish for the night.”
The old man cackles. “Nonsense! No one is in a hurry, commoner or NPC alike,” he says with a nod toward Zaena.
The door swings wide open and he motions for them to follow him. As he walks with his hands clasped behind his back, he muses on some of his travels through Tritania. “I’m only at level seventeen, but I’ve encountered plenty of Thuleans in Polynya. Never seen one as a sanitation worker, though!”
“We exist,” Zaena tells him. “If you visit Athos or any of its surrounding boroughs, you’ll find that all the workers are Thulean. The local government just started, um, a diversity and inclusiveness in the workplace initiative that sends us to other locations.” She shoots Ryuk a quick thumbs up. “At first, I thought it was just trendy feel good bullshit, but it comes with room, board, and a week of paid travel in Hyperborea so I decided to give it a try.”
Not a bad story. Ryuk quickly formulates one of his own, just in case.
“Makes sense,” says the old cleric as they take a few steps down into a wide, open den with a bar on one side. “Please sit.” He motions to a long table with eight wooden placemats and grins. “Anywhere is fine; this will only be a moment. And you?” he asks Ryuk as he sets a copper kettle on an iron stove. “Why on the Empress’ three floating continents would a PC take this role?”
“I thought it’d be interesting.” Ryuk feels Zaena tap him on the back of the head with her ghost limb. “Plus, there are some sewer monsters that dish out some serious EXP.”
“What about you?” Zaena asks as he adds various leaves, twigs, and herbs to the kettle. “Why didn’t you go with your guildmates?”
“I’m not one of these that’s anxious to drink myself into a stupor or consort with NPCs of easy virtue and wind up with psoriasis of the lizard and gob-crabs the size of your thumb, thank-you very much. I prefer to save my rupees and devote my energy to other pursuits.”
He brings the kettle back behind the counter and pours out two cups of his strange brew. “There you go, my friends – drink up. You’ll find this most soothing.”
“Won’t you be having one?” Zaena asks the old cleric as she takes the decoction from him.
“In a moment; I always make sure my guests are served first!”
Ryuk lifts the tea to his lips and stops. He glances from the cup to the old man. The old man looks away immediately, and returns to the small prep station behind the bar.
Something isn’t right.
Zaena sips her drink, smiles in pleased surprise and slams it down her neck in three big gulps. “This is a most excellent brew!” She cuts her orange gaze from Ryuk to their host.
“I’m so pleased you find it to your taste. It’s my own special blend. Have another, I insist!” The old cleric hobbles back over to her and dispenses another cup.
“This is just wonderful.” She giggles as she takes another sip and sighs with satisfaction and enjoyment. Where she’d been tense and alert, she’s now loosened up considerably and is propping herself up against the bar.
“Please, do drink up,” the old man tells Ryuk.
“It’s just a little too hot for me just yet. Please give me a minute.”
“More for me!” Zaena announces. “This stuff is fabulous! You have to try some Ryuk, have to.” She burps and slams her empty cup down on the table. “More!”
“Easy, my Thulean friend, easy,” the cleric laughs, “save some for me!” He produces a cup from behind the bar and takes a sip from it. “You’re quite correct, this is most excellent if I do say so myself! Hold on, I’ll get you some more.”
A tendril of yellow magic curls off the top of the hot liquid. I knew it! Ryuk draws his marble gun, points it at the cleric, and stands. “The antidote,” he tells the old man. “NOW.”
“Ryuk!” Zaena slurs. “What are you doing?”
“Hands where I can see them,” Ryuk tells him.
The cleric cocks his head ever so slightly. “Is that a gun?”
Ryuk answers with a knife marble, which pegs the old man in the shoulder and causes him to drop his cup.
-59 HP!
The cleric seethes as he presses his hand into the wound on his shoulder. “No one attacks me in my own guildhall, you arrogant fool!”
Zaena goes for her weapons, fumbles the draw, and slides off the stool in a clatter of dropped cutlery.
Iridescent white magic flows from the cleric’s hand to his shoulder; the wound heals completely and the bloodstain vanishes. “Is this a game you’d really like to play, boy?”
“It’s a game I’ve already won.”
Ryuk fires two more knife marbles directly into the cleric’s throat.
Tonsil Shot! Instakill!
(0)__(0)
Skill level up!
Skill: Tonsil Shot
Level Three: 1 in 9 chance of connecting.
Damage: 28% if enemy is less than level 30; 15% if enemy is greater than level 30.
Odds of instakill: 11%
Requirements for instakill: LUCK > 9
That’s odd, it skipped a level. Ryuk swipes the prompt away and chalks it up to the fact that he attacked with his marble gun. The next prompt is one he hasn’t seen before.
Marble level up!
Your knife marbles have now become SWORD MARBLES! Sword marbles are larger and provide +25% more damage than knife marbles. You can toggle between the two marble classes by voicing a command.
Sword marbles? Ryuk fires a single sword marble into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Thunk! Sure enough, the blade is now the length of a wakizashi, and a bit thicker too.
Ryuk tries to help Zaena to her feet, but she’s rag-doll limp, drooling, and unresponsive. He slaps her five or six times before she slowly blinks her eyes open. “Whuzzup? Where are we?” She tries to lift her chin and drops it; her eyes flutter closed.
He slaps her again because he doesn’t know what else to do. “Open those eyes!” he cries. “Stay with me!”
Ryuk: Zaena’s been poisoned and I don’t know what to do! This PKer gave her some tea. At first I thought she was drunk, but I can’t wake her up and she’s breathing funny. She’s been poisoned.
FeeTwix: PKers? Poisoned?
Tamana: Player killers – they kill other players for their goods.
Hiccup: Did you say she was drunk or did you say she was poisoned? I know some would disagree, but there’s a fickin’ difference Ryuk and you know it. Parsing – it’s a way of life.
Ryuk: I don’t know. She’s slurring her words and she can’t stand!
Hiccup: All right, already. I’ll be there in a jiff.
Ryuk looks to the dead cleric on the floor. He’ll likely alert his guild as soon as he respawns. He could also do so from the real world, which only adds to the tension he feels closing in around him.
“It’ll be okay, Zaena.” He holds her head in his lap and she opens one eye.
“Ryuk?” she coughs, smiles, and her eyes roll back into her head.
“Hiccup will be here soon.” His foot hits something solid and invisible as he moves closer to her. Her ghost limb.
“Why’d you kill him?” she asks, her eyes half-open.
“He poisoned you and he tried to kill me,” Ryuk tells her. “I was protecting you. Just keep breathing.”
Where the hell is that goblin?
Ryuk: Hurry, Hiccup!
Hiccup: For fick’s sake Marbles, I’m coming!
She snorts. “You? Protecting me? Thuleans don’t need … some … some commoner protecting them!” She laughs, gasps, chokes, and brings up three cups of poisoned tea right into Ryuk’s lap. “Sorry,” she says as a frown spreads across her face. “I was … only joking. You’re a good guy, Ryuk. Getting stronger too.”
Zaena makes a gun with her hand. “Pew! Pew! Pew! Marbles!” She laughs, and becomes suddenly serious. “Do you think FeeTwix really cares about me?”
Ryuk knows that there is no correct answer to that one. Luckily, she doesn’t wait for an answer.
Her face morphs from curious to deadly serious. “There are … things I haven’t told you, things I haven’t told any of you about my past. It will complicate things. Not now, but later.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I have something I need to tell all of you; something that … ”
Hiccup’s form takes shape. “Jeez, Marbles, you really ficked that dude up!” The rotund goblin with the pink topknot and the mechanical steampunk arm scuttles over to Zaena. Apparently, they don’t make the sanitation getup to fit the full-figured goblin, as he looks like he was melted down and poured into his. He gives Zaena a double take and all the funny drains right out of him. “Oh FICK! Gotta move fast on this one! Why didn’t you tell me!?”
“I did, dammit!”
“Hold her head and tip her nose up. When I say GO, let go of her and roll clear. Ready?”
Ryuk nods uncertainly.
Hiccup equips a small bag of white powder and two Big Gulp straws which he jabs into the powder three or four times to pack the ends. He jams the powdered end of the straws way up into Zaena’s nostrils, tells Ryuk to get ready and blows the powder up into her sinuses.
“GO!”
They both leap clear, a split-second before the Thulean woman snorts, coughs, and explodes into angry, roaring, frenetic life. She tosses chairs, overturns a table, and rips a tapestry from the wall.
“Fickin’ hell, Lizzy, bring it down a notch, we just saved your emerald green ass!” Uncle Goblin exclaims as he covers his head.
Ryuk, his hands up in a placating gesture, nods rapidly. “The cleric poisoned you; Hiccup brought you back. Please, relax!”
Zaena bristles then calms slightly. “And just what did you ‘bring me back’ with?”
“Well, it sure wasn’t Fluffy Bunny Cuddle Milk,” the goblin scoffs. “Wizardous, of course. How the fick do you think FeeTwix and I kept our bloodshot peepers open and our wits about us with all the boozing we did last night? Hoo, baby! That shit doesn’t just bring you back, it’ll go out and get you!”
“Yhai doomak bawano poolakh!”
“A bearadillo’s chapped anus, huh?” Hiccup looks at her fondly for a moment. “That’s a good one! Now perk the fick up and let’s get the hell out of here. Tammy and Twixy are waiting for me in the street, and we’re waiting on you two to get your asses into position.”
With a parting poot, the goblin dematerializes. Zaena rubs her temples for a moment.
“Do you want to sit, or something?” Ryuk asks. He knows they don’t have a lot of time, but he also knows she’s just been brought back from death by funky tea poisoning. “How are you feeling?”
“The wizardous worked. My ears are ringing, my ghost limbs itch, and my scalp is on too tight. I feel pretty good, actually, but don’t tell the goblin.” She turns to Ryuk, walks right past him and nods for him to follow. “And I don’t know exactly what happened back there,” she finally says over her shoulder, “but thanks.”
(0)__(x)
On their way out the back door, Ryuk wonders how the cryptic hints about her background could complicate things. What is she holding back? He watches her walk in front of him. The lean Thulean is hiding something from them, surely, but now isn’t the time to try to figure out what it is.
The backyard is small; Shinigami’s exterior wall towers over the low stone wall in front of them that separates the property from the alleyway. Ryuk follows Zaena to the shorter wall, where she pauses. A message flashes on his viewing pane.
Zaena: Do you sense anyone in the alley?
Ryuk: Give me a moment.
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and waits for his senses to focus inward. The silence comes to him in waves. Background noise from the Guild District recedes as he deepens his focus. He notices a soft orange web of force extending from the wall in front of them to the exterior of the Shinigami’s wall.
Skill level up!
Skill: Magic Eye
Level Five: A colored glow indicates that magical properties are present. Higher levels allow for more detail and access to the Wikipedia of arcane knowledge. A red outline signals that a hidden enemy is near. A yellow outline signals that an object is enchanted. A dark blue outline signals that necrotic magic is being used. A green outline signals that algomagic is being used. An orange outline indicates a hidden trap is present.
Requirements: Level 13 Mage, LUCK > 8.
Skill level up!
Skill: Extreme Focus
Level Two: Can detect approach of camouflaged/concealed/stealthed enemies and objects.
Mage bonus: Higher levels allow sleuthing and increased accuracy. Also increases magic detection range when used in tandem with Magic Eye.
Requirements: LUCK > 9
He opens his eyes, and the pixelated matter surrounding his pane of vision flitters away.
“We need to go from the top of this wall, to the top of their wall,” he whispers. “Can you make it?”
“Are there enemies in the alley?”
“There’s a web of invisible force strung between the walls. I can’t tell what kind of trap it is, just that it is a trap – it could be anything.”
Zaena takes a step back, judging the distance between the tops of the walls. “It’s going to be a bit of a stretch,” she finally says as she lifts herself up, “But I think I can make it and get you over safely. Is the magic on the surface of the wall or just on the ground of the alley?”
“Just the ground.” He calls up to her. “Touching the wall shouldn’t be a problem.”
The slender Thulean crouches atop the wall, judges the distance, and leaps skyward. Her ghost limbs catch the top of the Shinigami’s wall and she swings herself up and wedges herself in an embrasure.
Zaena: There are two armed sentries on the wall walk, but they’re on the other side. Hurry.
Ryuk climbs to the top of the shorter wall and looks down at the gridlines crisscrossing the alley. Deep breath in, he blows it back out as he launches himself into the air. The talons on Zaena’s ghost limbs catch his armor and swing him into the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him.
-10 HP!
“Sorry!” Zaena hisses.
Already off to a bad start, he thinks as he scales the wall with the Thulean’s assistance. Once he gets to the top, he crouches, his marble gun at the ready.
It’s déjà vu all over again; they were in a similar position last night, peering down at the courtyard. The only difference this time is the muscle – the small horde of NPC barbarians and their Shire horses – the same group that passed them in Bar Row yesterday – have set up shop in the courtyard. On the wall walk across from them are the two archers that Zaena spotted earlier.
But that’s not what catches Ryuk’s eye. On the roof of the guildhall, crouching in the shadows are a pair of ninjas – one male, one female – their outlines only visible in red due to his Extreme Focus skill.
Ryuk: The ninjas have spotted us.
Zaena: Ninjas? Where?
Ryuk: Rooftop.
Zaena: Why haven’t they attacked us?
Ryuk: They’re waiting to see what we do first.
The two are at least level fifteen, as it is around this level that the Ninja class gets the Mask Stats ability. There’s no way to accurately judge how strong they are, but the fact that he can see them at all makes him think that they probably aren’t too high up the totem pole.
Ryuk: They’ll come for us, and when they do, I’ll take them out. You focus on disrupting the barbarians below. Are the two on the opposite wall in range for your arrows?
Zaena: For sure.
Ryuk: We’ll make our move once the others enter.
Knock knock. The sound echoes through the courtyard. The barbarians turn their horses to the gate and ready their weapons as the smallest of the bunch dismounts and approaches the gate. “Who’s there?”
“Aramis Solid Waste Management and Abatement Service!” FeeTwix yells out in a British-y accent.
“Aramis Solid Waste Management and Abatement Service who?” the barbarian yells back.
“Haw! Nice one – like it, like it. We’re ‘ere for your rubbage!”
ТЕЛЕГРАМКанал с обзорами, анонсами новинок и книжными подборками
Книжный Вестник
Бот для удобного поиска и скачивания книг
Книжный Бот
Свежие любовные романы в удобных форматах
Любовные романы
О психологии, саморазвитии и личностном росте
Саморазвитие
Детективы и триллеры, все новинки
Детективы
Фантастика и фэнтези, все новинки
Фантастика
ВКОНТАКТЕ