by Tao Wong
Mel Furh (Level 26 Gunslinger)
HP: 187/240
MP: 290/290
Conditions: Eagle-eye, Steady Hand
“Interesting,” I say.
The two conditions seem to be exactly what they say—boosts to accuracy and speed of targeting, allowing Mel to run and shoot at Mikito, adding to the sheer volume of attacks she has to deal with. It probably would work better against someone who didn’t have the control of the battlefield that the Samurai does, as she exhibits an uncanny understanding of where everyone is. As she’s explained before, it’s more an understanding of the options available to each individual in relation to the attacks they may use on her than a sixth sense. It’s still impressive.
Close to Mikito, the second melee fighter drops low and pushes his hands outward, fire exploding from his form. It’s the third time he’s done this attack, so it doesn’t catch Mikito by surprise, even if it does blow her aside enough into the path of the bullets.
Rhys Hnaris (Level 23 Mage Adept)
HP: 141/280
MP: 284/380
Conditions: Hasted, Flame Armor, Kinetic Absorption
Who would have thought there’d be a Mage who was willing to get in close? Using a combination of martial arts and spells, he’s holding his own. Mostly. He’s not skilled enough to compete with a dedicated melee fighter, doesn’t have enough physical stats to overpower others, and his Mana pool isn’t that deep. Kind of like a middle ground of all bad choices, if you looked at it statistically. Of course, none of that matters when you’re flexible and prone to pulling out surprises—which the Mage Adept is doing right now. The exploding flame, rather than retreating to his body, flows toward Mikito and wraps around her.
The ranged spellcaster doesn’t hesitate, waving and calling forth her moving greenery spell. This time around, instead of wrapping Mikito directly, she uses the spell to dump earth around the Samurai, entombing her. The swordsman and gunslinger pull back, the former guiding the Adept even farther away by hand. I frown, flicking a glance upward to note that Mikito’s health isn’t dropping too much before I relax.
A slow ten count, the green-brown mound shuddering and jerking with each of those seconds. But while she’s fast, smart, and destructive, Mikito isn’t that strong. She relies on her weapon and precision to add force multipliers to her attacks, rather than raw power like me. In a situation like this, it’s a major disadvantage.
“Impressive,” Ali says.
“She wasn’t fighting that seriously,” I point out. In the few minutes that we’ve watched, I already saw the holes in their offense that she could have exploited if she had gone all out. Among other things, she wasn’t Hasted. “But yes, they’re pretty damn coordinated. Might actually be better than us. Reminds me of Capstan and his original group.”
“They’ve put in a lot of time training their coordination. And they’ve done it in a disciplined manner,” Ali agrees.
As the mound slowly falls apart, a bladed polearm leading the way, I hop down to introduce myself. I’m a bit puzzled why a group this skilled and disciplined isn’t higher Leveled. The fact that they’re willing to be out here in the early hours of the morning speaks to their dedication.
“Hello there,” I greet the group, smiling. Not that they haven’t noticed me.
I get grunted and verbal greetings. Mikito offers me a single nod before she casts a Cleanse spell on herself to rid herself of soot and dirt.
After a round of greetings, I congratulate and praise them. It’s something I know needs to be done—boost their self-confidence, let them know they’re doing well. Lead, I guess, if you wanted to think of it that way. Which is why I’m surprised when the Gunslinger snorts.
“No need to pour sunshine up our ass. Mikito was holding back,” Mel says, the well-built brunet grinning as he speaks. “She could have taken us at any point if she hadn’t limited her abilities and tactics.”
His harsh words get a round of nods from his team—and it’s clear, it’s his team.
“Huh.” His bluntness give me pause for a moment. “How come you guys are so low Leveled?”
“The Sect,” Rhys answers, grimacing. “They took on anything that was higher Level, limited our hunting to lower Level zones and limiting the amount of time we could hunt. They wanted us to stay well below their Levels. Made it easier for us to be controlled. Rather than get ‘relocated for better opportunities,’ we decided to limit our growth ourselves.”
“They could stop us from Leveling, but they couldn’t stop us from training,” Mel says, his hands casually resting on the butts of his pistols. I look at the pistols again and realize I recognize those giant, ugly pistols, but I’m unsure why. Seeing my look, Mel smiles slightly and pulls one out, finger off the trigger and holding it pointed up and away slightly, for me to see it properly. “Desert Eagle. More a toy than a weapon before the change, but with my added strength…”
“You were shooting exploding rounds,” I say, frowning. “Didn’t realize they had those.”
“Class Skill. I’m able to make specialized ammunition that works with my weapons. Upgraded them all myself too, so they work with the System,” Mel explains.
“Can they…?”
“Nope. Tried it already,” Mel says. “Seems to be locked to me, so I can’t provide the rounds or guns to others. Might change at higher Levels, but for now, it’s only the craftsmen who can do that.”
“Your Class…” I ask, unsure about the etiquette on this matter but curious anyway. We’re all still figuring things out after all.
“Gunslinger. You could call me a bit of a gun nut before this. Was in the army for a few years. Infantry. Was in between deployments to Afghanistan when the System hit. That first day, I grabbed at the Class when it came,” Mel says. “Wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being a Rifleman.”
“Ah.” I nod in agreement. Yes, the System was known to hand out skill- or hobby-appropriate Classes. Still, surprising that he got what I’m assuming is a somewhat uncommon or even maybe rare Class in a city like this. Then again, luck does have a part to play in all this. “Seems like an interesting Class.”
“I think so,” Mel says, flashing me a grin. “Mikito tells me you were planning on hitting Kelowna earlier, but stopped?”
“Yup. I figured it’d be good to attack them if we wiped out their Advanced Class team, but…” I shrug, acknowledging our failure. “Didn’t work out. Probably a bad idea anyway.”
“Why’d you say that?” Mel says, frowning.
“Well, a friend pointed out that we’d be over-stretching ourselves. We wouldn’t be able to defend either place adequately,” I say, remembering Labashi’s advice.
“Only if you intended to defend it. Nothing wrong with wiping out their people then pulling back, draining the place of any resources you can get your hands on,” Mel says. “Hell, if you threw up some basic defenses, no guarantee they’d be willing to go after it.”
“Oh…?”
“We’re right smackdab in their zone of control. Only reason the other team wasn’t here was because they were expanding out east. If you knock them out, all the cities around us would be in a precarious position geographically. Nothing to support them—which means they might not risk more people to take a marginal place,” Mel says.
“Risky,” Mikito says, frowning.
I note that Rhys is nodding as well.
“Of course, but what do you lose out? Might widen their options, but if you don’t care about losing the cities…”
“And the people who live in those cities?” I ask softly, my voice cold.
Mel’s broad shoulders move in a dismissive gesture. Before I can say anything else, another group wanders into the training grounds. Mikito takes the opportunity to order the groups to train together, gripping my arm to pull me away.
“Bit of a dick, isn’t he?” I say, not bothering to lower my voice.
“He’s actually got a pretty decent set,” Ali says, glancing at me.
“Your people?” I say, then move on before she can answer. “I was, a little. Thought I’d get a firsthand look at them, maybe give a few encouraging words. Also wanted to let you know that we’ve got some Hakarta coming in to reinforce the city in a few days, once their transport drops them off. Well, and I sign the papers.”
“Hakarta?” Mikito frowns then glances at the group before nodding. “You want me to warn the hunters.”
“Right. I’ll get Lana on it too, but well…”
“They’re more likely to do damage,” Mikito says, nodding. “Consider it done.”
“Thanks.” I watch the groups spar. I frown, shifting my feet, considering if I should stick around.
Mikito steps in front of me, blocking my vision. “You should go.”
“But…”
“You have better things to do. And your presence is not beneficial,” Mikito says, smiling slightly to take the sting out of her words.
“I…”
“Go. I have this,” Mikito says, waving.
“Fine,” I grumble and head off, kind of upset she’s kicking me out.
I’ll admit I’m not the most charismatic or nice individual, but I’m not that bad! Still, I do have paperwork to review and others to speak with. Resigning myself to further work, I head off.
Chapter 11
“Again,” Mikito says firmly as I come to an end of the form.
I glare at the woman for a moment before sighing and walking back to the center of the room we’ve taken over to restart the sword form. One of the advantages of owning most of a city, places like a school gymnasium are easy to find and the bonus in training speeds is a plus.
Before I can begin, Mikito says, “Focus on your edge. It’s still shifting at the end. And at step three and seven, shift back a half inch.”
I grunt, nod, and begin. The form I use, that I train, is the same one I deduced over a year ago from what I saw on recordings of Erethran Honor Guard fights. In particular, there’s a certain blue-haired woman whose style I’m attempting to mimic, a way of using the Soulbound weapon more effectively. It requires me to summon and banish my blades as I attack and defend. Together, Mikito and I have further refined it, adding the additional blades from Thousand Blades so that I can form a never-ending ring of swords around my body. In theory—and with some practice—the form allows me to attack and defend at the same time, constraining openings as the floating blades cut off lines of attack.
Sadly, while Mikito might be trained, smart, and dedicated, she was also limited by her past. Human martial arts don’t contain much knowledge about floating weapons that move in their own paths, so we’re both struggling to figure out the best ways to use this Skill of mine. Since the recordings we have are of the lady in actual combat, replicating them into forms that I can use to train was difficult. If it weren’t for the fact that I heal constantly, I’d be littered with wounds.
It’s only after I’ve run through the forms another four times that Mikito calls it a day. At least for the theory portion of our early morning training session. As I stretch and rub at the latest cut, smearing blood over my skin, Mikito is gently stretching.
“Ready?” the young Japanese woman asks me.
“Limits?” I answer.
“No Skills for the first three rounds. Then we’ll increase. Choose one Skill or spell to add each round,” Mikito suggests.
I nod. “Sounds fun.”
I grin, calling forth my sword and getting into my guard. Right foot forward, hand held slightly above waist high and slightly outside my right knee. Left hand close to my angled body, weight distributed evenly.
Once Mikito sees I’m in guard, she moves, leaping forward. My eyes widen slightly, the change of pace and style catching me off guard for a microsecond. Luckily, my reflexes don’t stop, shifting my sword to aim toward the fast-moving body, and it clashes with her naginata even as the Japanese woman spins away. I catch a glimpse of laughing eyes, the sheer joy of letting go without concern for safety, before I have to focus. Still, a grin creeps across my face.
An hour plus later, we’re both seated on the ground, panting. Stamina might not necessarily be a major concern during fights for either of us—well, me—but training is different. We’re purposely attempting to remove all our Stamina, pushing ourselves to the state where we’re tired and start making mistakes. The kind of mistakes that only happen when you can barely lift your hand.
As I stare at the ceiling, I can’t help but ask, “How are you doing?”
“Recovering. Eight minutes,” Mikito says wryly.
Of course it’s eight minutes. It’s mostly the same for me. That’s one of the oddities of the System—it takes the same amount of time for everyone to reach their peak level. Of course, what that peak level is is different, but still. An oddity. Only Class Skills make a difference.
“I meant with the hunting groups,” I say, clarifying matters. It’s been days since we arrived and Mikito has taken on the role of guide without complaint.
“It is good. They’re more hesitant than those in Whitehorse. More jumpy. I’m spending time building up their confidence,” Mikito says with a frown. “The Sect has done well to condition these guys to play it safe. Getting them to risk a little has been the hardest thing.”
I nod, understanding her point. Still, it wasn’t what I was asking. Even if we’ve only known each other for a bit, she’s still a friend. And a year ago, she lost her husband and her family. Now I’m asking her to take care of strangers and train them to put themselves in front of monsters. “And you?”
“I’m fine,” Mikito says, offering me a slight smile.
It’s a deflection. I know it. She knows it. But I don’t push it, because, well, it’d be rude. And talking about our emotions, about how we feel, isn’t really something either of us is comfortable doing. Blame our culture, our upbringing, or just our nature. In the end, the results are the same.
“Okay then,” I say softly. “So tell me what I did wrong this time.”
Mikito smiles slightly, leaning forward to speak. After she’s done, I’ll give her my own notes. And then, well, we’ll do it all again tomorrow.
I frown, staring at the converted block of buildings. What used to be squat, utilitarian concrete buildings have transformed, becoming one squat, utilitarian concrete building with weapon emplacements. A concrete extension, seeming to have grown from the corner of the building, joins the apartments to the two-story retail shops next to it. Above the retail stores, sandbags and molded steel sit on the rooftops, providing cover and protection for defenders. Just above, mostly hidden, I see flashes of greenery where the apartment complex’s garden thrives. As Lana said, the building is impressive.
As I walk up to the main entrance, Benjamin walks out to greet me with a smile. Behind him, protected by sheets of metal, are guards, each carrying registered rifles. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see security cameras dotting the walls, watching me as I approach.
“Johnathan, thank you for taking me up on my invitation,” Benjamin says with a smile, offering his hand.
“It’s just John,” I say, shaking his hand. Once again, I eye the thin Architect. His invitation was a surprise, though it shouldn’t have been. After all, I had “felt out” Roxley myself. There’s no reason Benjamin wouldn’t want to do the same with me.
“Come on up. Or would you like the tour first?”
“Mmm… dinner first,” I say with a smile.
Interestingly enough, Benjamin doesn’t live on the top floor but the sixth. His apartment is small, cozy even, with the look of a well-lived building. Children’s toys and discarded clothing are scattered on the floor of the living room, around a worn beige couch, and a smiling lady greets me as I step in.
“This is Susan, my wife,” Benjamin says, then he’s tackle-hugged at the knees. He pat
s the child’s head. “And Julia, my daughter.”
“Mr. Lee.” A hand is offered to me, which I shake. Ben’s wife has long, curly, light brown hair and is wearing a simple summer dress that hugs a thin figure. “Please, sit. Dinner will be served soon.”
“Thank you,” I say, letting Ben and Susan guide me to the dining room. Surprisingly, I find Mel seated already. “Mel.”
“Ms. Sato mentioned that we should have Mel over for dinner too,” Benjamin says as we take a seat.
“Not a problem,” I say. “Mikito tells me your team was the one who managed to clear the dungeon?”
“Yes. That completion bonus was quite good,” Mel says, eyes glinting with humor. “I’m beginning to understand how you guys Leveled so fast, especially if what Mikito said was true about the number of dungeons you had to deal with.”
“There were a few,” I say, leaning forward. “Tell me about this one.”
Mel tilts his head, regarding me for a second before expounding on the dungeon. I lead him on, getting a feel for how they did and what he thought. Mel’s interesting—he’s dry and clinical and extremely detailed about the dungeon, almost as if he’s providing a report. Only when Susan arrives with dinner do we switch topics and speak about lighter matters. The weather, cute new animals, the burgeoning education and daycare system she’s involved in. Topics more suited for the ears of the four-year-old joining us.
The meal is delicious and filling—matzah ball soup followed by a roast with pureed carrots and potato pancakes, and after that, mashed potatoes and salad and a stew. Beef stew perhaps, though I wouldn’t have bet on that for the meat. Tasty and chewy anyway.
When dinner is over, Julia is taken by Susan to her room, Ben’s wife giving him a look I’m unable to read.
“Shall we take a walk?” Ben asks, gesturing toward the door. “I’d love to show you around the apartments.”
“Sure,” I say readily, curious about the building and his Skills. It doesn’t hurt that we’ll actually get to the meat of this meeting finally. As nice as a home-cooked meal and the evening was, it’s pretty draining playing at this social game.