The Wastelander

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The Wastelander Page 14

by Tipsy Wanderer


  Mad Dog just said, “It’s just blood, right? Use mine!”

  “You can use mine as well!”

  “Shit, I got plenty of blood. Take as much as you need!”

  “No way we can let the kid die like this.”

  “Yeah, life would be much more boring without’m.”

  More than ten mercenaries spoke up to offer their blood. Cloudhawk had only joined the Tartarus Company recently, but during this past month, his tenacious personality and work ethic caused everyone to take a liking to him. He was a bit weak, but they had already acknowledged him as a member of the group.

  If Cloudhawk were still awake, he would probably be so shocked that he wouldn’t be able to shut his mouth. Normally, the mercenaries treated him like absolute dirt… and yet, today they were all fighting for the chance to help save him by offering their own blood.

  As for Mantis, his features remained as blank and emotionless as ever. Without saying a single word, he ran a few blood phenotype tests before selecting the mercenaries who fit his criteria. He drew some blood from every single one of them, used that blood to fill his transfusion bag, and began transfusing it into Cloudhawk’s body.

  In the end, their greatest fears were realized. Although Cloudhawk’s condition was temporarily stabilized after the infusion of blood, it worsened again at around midnight. His entire body was beet-red and his skin was so hot it seemed as if he were being burnt by coals. His mind was in a blur and he repeatedly slurred random words.

  There was nothing Mantis could do. The medical conditions and equipment were simply too poor. Whenever an injured party suffered a severe infection like this, he would have a less than ten percent chance of surviving. Things were in the hands of the gods now. All they could do was hope that the kid’s destiny was not to die here!

  ……

  Cloudhawk found himself in a foggy, hazy state. He felt incredibly hot, so hot that he could barely breathe. It was as though he were sleeping inside a giant burning cauldron. When Cloudhawk tried to trace the heat to its source, he discovered that it was all emanating from the stone hanging around his neck.

  The stone seemed to have been linked to his body in a strange manner, fusing with his bones and flesh to become a part of him. It unleashed some sort of strange energy that was capable of affecting Cloudhawk’s entire body.

  In his dazed state, Cloudhawk was actually able to make out the voice of the stone more clearly than ever before. It sounded like the furious waves of the ocean, like the sky, like the earth, like something hidden within the depths of the sea, like the lightless dark of the night, like a behemoth so vast that it could silently swallow a hundred enormous whales without causing any stir.

  This was a sea! A sea of willpower, a sea of mental strength, a sea of energy! Was he able to better commune with the stone when he was in his current, trance-like state?

  Not only could Cloudhawk sense the ebb and flow of that sea of mental energy inside the stone, he could even hear a hoarse voice whispering to him from a hidden location at the very bottom of the sea.

  “Truth springs forth from the mind. Your thoughts shall determine all and what you shall imagine is what you shall see!” Although the voice was soft, it was filled with an astonishing presence and was as stately as the voice of a king. “Awaken, heir to my legacy!”

  Cloudhawk felt as though someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over his face. He suddenly woke from his stupor, only to realize that he hadn’t actually returned to the real world. He was located within a very strange region, with his two feet standing on a pitch-black sea that was as smooth and clear as a mirror.

  This place wasn’t the real world. This place was a dream-world created by that will within the stone!

  “W-who is talking?!” Cloudhawk frantically scanned his surroundings. He knew that this was a dream, but he found himself unable to escape it. He had never experienced something as strange as this before and it completely exceeded the bounds of his comprehension.

  The endless black mist in front of him condensed to form a tall, savage-looking figure. The figure didn’t seem to be human, but Cloudhawk wasn’t able to see what it looked like. He could only see a pair of red, ape-like eyes glowing within that dark silhouette, as well as a jewel that glowed in front of the figure’s chest.

  Was that jewel the one Cloudhawk had found the other day? Was it originally an adornment upon that suit of unique, peculiar armor? As for the mysterious fellow standing before Cloudhawk, he had to be the jewel’s previous master. He must’ve been able to store his will and mind into the jewel through some unknown method. The reason why Cloudhawk had nearly gone mad with berserk rage was also due to this man’s influence. As for the strange dream Cloudhawk had fallen into after suffering such heavy injuries, it was also caused by this man.

  Cloudhawk stared at the man through the blurry mist that separated the two of them. “Who exactly are you?”

  A majestic yet hoarse voice rang out from the black silhouette. “A failure who has been forgotten. Who I am no longer matters. What matters is for you to know who you are.”

  “Who I am? I’m me!” Cloudhawk was rather confused now. What was this guy talking about? He shouted rather nervously, “Fuck, man, what’s going on here? Why are you in my dreams?”

  “No need to be afraid. I won’t harm you. In fact, I died long ago. What remains is nothing more than a part of my will which I left inside this stone. Only when certain criteria are fulfilled and when a person with certain potential emerges shall this stone be activated. For now, you can neither see nor sense my entire will, just a fragment which I set up long ago.” The speaker was saying such confusing, baffling things that Cloudhawk understood none of it at all.

  “It has been many years. I have stubbornly remained here, all for the sake of awaiting your arrival. Ever since you picked up that jewel, you have assumed a destiny that you cannot shake off.” The black silhouette looked at Cloudhawk and slowly said, “The world has been bewildered by lies and deceptions. Since the cycle has begun anew, I hope that you shall continue the path which I started but was unable to finish. Bring an end to all these things.”

  Cloudhawk really had no idea what the man was talking about, but he felt an inexplicable sense of irritation and rejection towards his words. “What sort of gibberish are you babbling about? I don’t understand a word that you are saying. Let me out!”

  “Don’t be impatient, young man. I don’t have much time left.” A hint of aged sorrow appeared within the black silhouette’s voice. “I can sense what you are thinking. Do you wish to leave the wastelands?”

  Cloudhawk suddenly trembled. “Can you help me?”

  “I can’t help you leave, not directly… but I can give you what you need more than anything else right now.”

  “What?”

  The black silhouette said slowly, “I can give to you what little power I have left!”

  Cloudhawk instantly felt excited. Power. Wasn’t this exactly what he needed more than anything else right now? He was still far, far too weak, which was why everyone continued to bully him. If he was as strong as Slyfox or Mad Dog, he would be able to do whatever he wanted in Blackflag Outpost! This mysterious figure had to be at least as powerful as Mad Dog, right?

  The black sea beneath his feet suddenly began to stir and Cloudhawk felt that he was about to be dragged within the waves. A large amount of an ice-cold substance flowed into his body, causing him to feel the sensation of agonizing pain.

  “Unfortunately, at present you are still far too weak. I can only bestow a part of my psionic energy unto you for now.” The black silhouette’s voice began to fade in and out as it grew more and more indistinct. “Please keep the stone safe. It is the key to both space and time, and is the most important talisman of my race…”

  Cloudhawk felt like a drowning man at sea. The sense of breathlessness and pressure was absolutely stifling and he could neither open his mouth nor cry out for rescue. That icy feeling filled every inc
h of his body, pouring in from every single direction and into every single pore. Cloudhawk frantically tried to reach out and grab something, but was unable to find anything to grip. His consciousness instantly began to fade once again.

  Right at this moment, he suddenly felt a hand reach down and grab him, bringing him up above the surface of the water.

  “AHHH!” Cloudhawk let out a scream as he woke up.

  It was noon. Cloudhawk’s entire body was covered with bandages that emanated strange medicinal smells and every single wound on his body was neatly stitched shut. Fiery pain radiated throughout his entire body, as though his skin had been torn open and he’d been placed atop a cooking rack. The various strange medicinal pastes smeared across his body made his wounds burn, almost as though they contained salt or spices.

  Cloudhawk’s right elbow hung in front of his chest. Right now, he was so weak that he felt as though he had just been chased by a wild beast for ten kilometers nonstop. However, for some reason, his mind was incredibly clear and alert and the surrounding world itself seemed to be more in focus than it had been in the past. He could even hear the mercenaries outside laughing and chatting with each other.

  This place had to be the mercenary base. Cloudhawk thought back to what had just happened, especially the conversation he had with the strange man in his dreams. Was it nothing more than an odd nightmare? Cloudhawk shook his head. Ignoring the pain, he got off the bed, walked to the door, and pushed it open with his one good arm.

  The twenty mercenaries that were just about to start eating all came to a sudden halt, their gazes focusing upon Cloudhawk. For a moment, things were completely silent. Cloudhawk couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Were these guys planning on picking a fight with him for having caused them trouble?

  But in the next instant… everyone exploded with roars of laughter and cheers!

  “HAH! Woke up, kiddo?”

  “You really do heal pretty damn fast.”

  “Man, you got the shit beat out of you, didn’t you?”

  “How could you let a dumb fuck like Rednose kick you around like that? You really are good for nothing, you know?”

  Usually, the mercenaries loved to mock Cloudhawk and laugh at him. However, after his sudden display of power in the inn and his near brush with death, they started to have more positive feelings about this kid that they once loved to hate.

  Whap! A fat, meaty hand clapped Cloudhawk on his shoulders. Cloudhawk leapt like a startled hair, nearly screaming from the pain. You did that on purpose, you motherfucker! The clap had landed directly on one of his stitched-up wounds.

  Slyfox completely ignored the glowering, twisted look on Cloudhawk’s face as he delivered yet another heavy clap with his meaty hand. “You’ve certainly been making a name for yourself, ya sonufabitch. Not only did you go out and cause trouble, you got the shit beat out of you. You’ve dishonored the entire damn Tartarus Company, y’know?”

  “That HURTS!” Cold sweat appeared on Cloudhawk’s forehead. He really wanted to plant a punch right into that fat face, but he also knew that was something best reserved for his dreams. “It won’t happen next time, alright?”

  “Next time? Kill them all, next time. Learn to wipe your own ass and solve your own problems. Got it?” After Slyfox finished lecturing him, he tossed a metal plate onto the table in front of them with a clattering sound. “In the future, you’ll eat with us, train with us, and go out on missions with us.”

  The plate held a chunk of blackened mutabeast jerky and a few pieces of something that looked like potatoes but had been all but burnt to a crisp. Slyfox gave the awestruck Cloudhawk a hard glare. “What, food’s not to yer likin’?”

  “N-Not at all!” Cloudhawk sat down without even thinking and began chewing on the food. Although he had no idea what type of mutabeast this meat came from, it tasted far better than any type of meat he had ever eaten before.

  Previously, he had only been given two pieces of bread each day. Now, he was able to enjoy wine and meat alongside the other mercenaries and would enjoy three set meals each day! It was like a poor beggar suddenly coming into an enormous inheritance. This blissful sense of manna falling from the heavens instantly filled Cloudhawk with contentment and joy.

  Cloudhawk never would’ve expected that rather than castigate him for having caused trouble at the inn, the other mercenaries would actually view him as having formally joined their ranks. His long month of humiliation and labor… had he finally overcome his hardships?

  17 Beast Wave

  A few days later, Cloudhawk was able to get his stitches removed. In another four or five days, he would probably be completely recovered.

  These days spent convalescing were some of the most comfortable days in his life. Not only did Cloudhawk not need to serve as a human punching bag, he was allowed to lay back and relax each day while enjoying three meals of meat. In just a few short days, he had grown considerably more muscular. It was getting to the point where Cloudhawk actually hoped that his wounds would heal a bit more slowly.

  After waking up from his heavy injuries, he improved quite a bit in every single area. The thing was, Cloudhawk didn’t feel as if he’d improved dramatically in any particular area. Perhaps that dream really was nothing more than a dream. Cloudhawk didn’t really pay it too much heed and cast that memory to the back of his mind.

  By the fifth day, Cloudhawk was more or less recovered. Mantis immediately called Cloudhawk over to assist him. The tables in Mantis’s workshop were filled with preservative jars that were marked with all kinds of script, as well as numerous test tubes filled with all sorts of strange experimental liquids. The workshop had all sorts of crude, ungainly tools within it as well, but Cloudhawk was used to all of them by now.

  Cloudhawk dragged a freshly delivered corpse over and placed it on the dissection table. It was the corpse of a young woman who had probably died recently. Judging by her emaciated frame, she most likely died of starvation. Similar corpses could be found everywhere.

  “Mantis, what are you going to analyze today?” Cloudhawk picked up his pincers and scalpel, preparing to go to work. “Heart? Lungs? Liver? Something else?” Although he hadn’t completely healed, he had recovered enough to do some work.

  Mantis withdrew his blood-covered hands from the chest of a dissected corpse. If Cloudhawk were a new arrival, he probably wouldn’t be used to this sight, but over the course of the past month he himself had carried out multiple such dissections, and so didn’t feel anything off.

  The Tartarus mercenary company had three captains, of whom Mantis was the most inscrutable. He seemed extremely cultured and knowledgeable, and was able to extract strange liquids from random mutated plants which he would then mix together into restorative poultices and healing solutions. The reason why Cloudhawk had been able to recover from his injuries so quickly was completely thanks to Mantis, and so Cloudhawk admired the man very much.

  Cloudhawk had never seen Mantis in combat before. However, Mantis’s skills as a physician alone ensured that he would never go hungry in this era.

  “Hang it up high.”

  Cloudhawk was slightly startled by Mantis’s instructions. Was the strange fellow planning some sort of odd experiment yet again? Still, Cloudhawk didn’t waste time asking questions. He immediately tied a rope around the corpse’s waist before lifting it into the air.

  Mantis calmly pulled out a silver revolver and tossed it onto the table. Cloudhawk couldn’t help but gawk at that revolver. Cloudhawk had taken it from Rednose’s inn before passing out from blood loss. By the time he’d woken up, the revolver had disappeared. He felt certain that Mad Dog had confiscated it, as guns were quite valuable; for a rookie like Cloudhawk to possess one really was a waste.

  “Shit, isn’t that my gun? So you were the one who took it!” Cloudhawk had been given all sorts of grunt work in the mercenary base and part of his job was to help maintain their firearms. As a result, he was quite familiar with how they worked.
r />   Mantis then fished out an orange-colored bullet and placed it on the table. The hell? Cloudhawk was starting to feel rather stunned. Mantis adjusted his glasses, which flashed with a cold light as he did so, making it impossible for Cloudhawk to see the look in his eyes. Mantis reached out and pointed one finger at the hanging corpse and said in his customarily cold voice, “Shoot it as fast as you can.”

  “Is that really a good idea?” Cloudhawk naturally wasn’t worried about being disrespectful to the dead; that would just be laughable. His concern was that shooting a corpse was a waste of bullets!

  “Just do it!”

  Cloudhawk had no idea what Mantis was scheming, but there was nothing he could do. The stone-faced man never changed his mind and did what he wanted. Plus… Cloudhawk had wanted to experience firing a gun for quite some time now.

  Cloudhawk picked up the gun, unlatched the cylinder, loaded the bullet, then spun the cylinder back into its proper locked position. Cloudhawk had no experience in gunnery, but for some reason it all felt very natural to him. Just as he was about to raise the gun and pull the trigger…

  Snick! A streak of cold light suddenly flashed through the air and sliced past his face. Clink!

  It was a slender, icy-cold surgical scalpel. The scalpel plunged into the corpse’s forehead with perfect precision. Even if you used the most accurate of rulers to measure it, you would find that the scalpel was exactly dead center in the corpse’s forehead, without being even slightly to the left or to the right. In addition, the scalpel blade had sunk completely into the forehead.

  Cloudhawk felt as though he’d lost control over his jaw muscles as his mouth swung open. He stared, wide-eyed, at the incomprehensible sight in front of him.

  “You spent a total of four seconds in drawing the gun, loading the bullet, and then firing. I would’ve been able to cut your throat in a third of a second.”

  This showing was Cloudhawk’s first time seeing Mantis launch an “attack”. He never would’ve imagined that Mantis was this incredible!

 

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