by Tao Wong
“Afternoon, son,” the old-timer greets me, grey eyes flicking over me with casual ease as he leans on the cane in his hand. A Cleanse spell and a new set of clothing ensured that most of us look presentable. At least, on casual inspection. I check his Status bar, amused to see he’s a Level 18 Vintner. “Name’s Kyle Reimer.”
“John Lee,” I say, hopping off Howard and strolling over to shake his hand. Kyle returns the handshake before my gaze returns to the cane.
“An old habit. Bad hip before the change,” Kyle says easily. “Mind telling me what your intentions are? Seems like you’ve got a beef with the Sect.”
“War notification that you were invading went off when you crossed the boundary,” Ali sends to me as an explanation.
“The Sect wasn’t particularly pleased with us taking Kamloops. I’m intending to do the same with Kelowna. Where are they?” I say, eyeing the curiously empty minimap in the corner of my eyes. Not that it’s empty empty, just empty of any hostiles.
“Left in a real hurry about an hour ago.” There’s a low drawl to Kyle’s voice, a wheezy sound that older people have, but there’s still a lot of strength left in there. “Other than grabbing a few of their favored Serfs, they didn’t stop for much. Last we saw, they were headed east.”
“Ah…” I run a map of the province through my mind. East really doesn’t bring them to Vancouver, but considering they have shown the ability to use airplanes, it might just be the most convenient location to gather. “Great. Want a job?”
“Pardon?” Kyle says, startled for the first time since we have started talking.
“I’m about to take the city, but we’re going to be moving soon after. Going to need an overseer of sorts. So, interested?” I say with an encouraging smile.
“And what makes you think you can trust me?” Kyle says, his eyes narrowed. I note that he isn’t actually declining the offer.
“A few things. First, you didn’t jump at the job, so you’ve got some brains. Second, you’re willing to talk so you’ve got some b—courage,” I change what I say, feeling somewhat uncomfortable swearing in front of the older man. “And thirdly, if you do screw around, I’ll just come back and kick your ass.” The last sentence is, of course, chosen with purpose.
“You probably could,” Kyle says, but there’s no hint of fear at his words. “And I’ll let you know that I won’t stand for this Serf nonsense. Or any of these new System laws. We’re still in Canada here, and we’ll still follow our principles. Peace. Order. Good government. And if not, you can send me on to meet my Maker.”
I smile slightly at the older man. Got to admire his balls. Then I turn sideways to point at Mike. “That man’s a friend. He’s also an ex-constable. If I was going to do something other than that, he’d be more than willing to put a stop to it.”
“That true, boy?” Kyle calls to Mike, who nods, his face serious. After a moment of consideration, Kyle nods and offers me his hand. “Then you have a deal.”
“Good. Be back in a sec,” I say before turning to get back on Howard to go to the city center. On the way, I can’t help but ask, “Why hasn’t the Sect sold the city and their buildings?”
“No point. When they declared War on you, it limited their options for sale. Stops either side from selling off all their assets if they think they’re about to lose and forcing the other to purchase it from the System. If you were to do that now, the other side would get it for free and all the Credits would be taken directly out,” Ali says.
“Wait. I can’t sell the town now?” I say, frowning.
“Oh, you can, but if the Sect were to take over the place before peace was declared, they’d just get it free,” Ali replies. I open my mouth, about to protest that doesn’t make sense, before I sense a long sigh. “I’m simplifying the legal process for you. Just trust me, it’d make no sense wasting time selling off assets. And no one smart is going to buy it.”
I could dig into this and I probably will, but right now is not the time. Placing my hand on the floating sphere that makes up this city’s core, I flick through the notifications with practiced ease. Yes, I want to take control. Yes, I’ll hold and wait while you inform the Sect that I’m attempting to grab their property. Yes, I’ll be on tenterhooks while awaiting a potential attack. And finally, yes, I’ll assign rights to someone.
After that, porting to just outside of the Lower Mainland is a simple matter. The Sect abandoning Kelowna wasn’t completely unexpected, but I was caught off guard when all the small towns we passed as we journeyed toward Vancouver itself were devoid of the Sect. Even the normal population was mostly hiding, the constant System notifications and the grapevine alerting all but the most desperate to stay off the streets.
“This is concerning,” Capstan says as we leave the New Westminster city center. Only two major centers left before we reach Vancouver itself. For the most part, we’re just moving, intent on finding the Sect first before we stop to deal with the rest of the administration, especially since no one is stopping us.
“Thinking they’re concentrating their forces in Vancouver?” I say softly.
“Yes.” Capstan looks around and sighs. “It is possible that they have, for the moment, decided that their losses have reached significant enough levels that it is no longer viable to hold position in this Dungeon World.”
“You make that sound worse than a straight-out fight,” Mike chimes in. “I know you guys like fighting, but I’m ready for some peace.”
“At what cost?” Capstan asks, shaking his head. “If they wished peace, they would have sent an envoy. Without one, and with the Redeemer confined to this world, it is unlikely that peace will be achieved.”
“What he’s saying, for those who are a little slow”—Ali stares pointedly at me and Mike—“is that they’re pulling back to bring their people to another of their many, many fronts. Once they’ve won there, they’ll come back to finish this. And they won’t take you guys so lightly the next time.”
With that morbid thought, the group travels through the remaining cities. Not once do we see a Sect member, and the only real resistance we find is automated weaponry. Realizing that it’s quite likely we would have to pay for repairs, we do our best to limit the damage we do. We stay on guard, previous traps clear in our mind.
Things only change when we finally make it to downtown Vancouver.
When I arrive at the outside of the stone-and-glass coliseum-inspired building that makes up the public library, I find an interesting crowd of individuals. There are three distinct groups, each forming a wedge of the small pie-shaped cluster, arguing with one another. Even without Ali’s prompting, I can tell they’re mostly made up of combat Classers. Or at least individuals like Damian who have risked their lives regularly. It’s the way their eyes keep moving, the relaxed stances with just a hint of tension, their weight distribution and spacing between them. Small things that add up to a bigger conclusion.
“Evening, folks,” I say with a smile, hopping off Howard.
More than a few tense at the sight of Capstan and the puppies, but no one becomes overtly hostile. Still, there’s definitely an unfriendly vibe to it all. Damian’s eyes are a little wide when he sees me and obviously pieces things together.
“And you are?” The question comes from a tall East Indian lady in a simple cream blouse, blue vest, and jeans combo, obviously the leader of one pie wedge of people. Interestingly enough, the late-thirty-year-old has no visible weapons. Even if she is a Mage—and her Mana pool indicates as much—it’s still strange not to have even a single weapon on hand.
“Evening,” greets an older Caucasian gentleman at the same time. He looks to be in his mid-40s, broad-shouldered, with a rifle and sword at his side and his smile is all kinds of welcoming. Except if you looked into his brown eyes, which are devoid of any real warmth.
Seeing that they spoke to me at the same time, the pair glares at each other.
I’m almost tempted to let them continue, but I decide a
gainst it and answer both. “Evening. I’m John Lee, and these are my friends.” I quickly introduce each of those behind me, not forgetting to include the puppies and Roland. Of course, I leave out their Classes and Levels, though I can see more than a few people whispering that information to others.
“What are you doing here?” the East Indian lady snaps at me, hands on her hips.
“I’m going to take control of the city, of course, Anika,” I say with a smile while pointedly using her name. Anika Kapoor, Level 39 Summoner.
“Christian Hecker,” the older man announces softly as I turn to him. Level 38 Infantry Soldier. First one I’ve seen actually. “It seems that you have some knowledge about what is going on. Perhaps you’d care to inform us.”
“Well, I’d be happy to chat. After I’ve removed the Sect’s control,” I say, stepping forward.
The group actually contracts slightly, obviously intent on stopping me. My eyes sweep over the fifty or so combat Classers, none of them above Level 40. These must be the “elites” Damian spoke of. Or at least a portion of them. Interestingly enough, the third part of the wedge, which includes Damian, doesn’t move.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t let you do that just yet,” Christian says, regret tingeing his voice. However, there’s none of it in his body. Politeness for politeness’ sake it seems.
“What makes you think we’re going to let you take our city? If the Sect is gone, we sure ain’t going to just let you take it,” Anika says as she glares at me.
“Well…” I try to figure a diplomatic way of saying this.
“Look, kids, you couldn’t stop my boy-o if you wanted to. Not him alone, and certainly not with his pals,” Ali says as he makes himself visible to everyone. I see more than a few hands and weapons rise up before stopping.
“Just a little confident for a Level 40, aren’t you?” Anika says with a smirk.
“This is going to be a thing, isn’t it?” I say exasperatedly.
The flat looks Anika and Christian provide me are more than answer enough. Beside me, I see Mike moving forward to say something while Capstan and Nelia stand next to the pets, watching the surroundings. While the library square is wide open and clear, there are buildings around us, some of which could easily contain snipers. In fact, they probably do contain snipers.
If Lana was here, perhaps we would have sat down and talked to them. But the lady is back in Kamloops, taking care of our people. And I’ve just finished a very long day, one filled with blood and death. And these people just want to keep arguing, talking about who is the top dog. All these thoughts and the bubbling frustration over the day’s events filter through my mind in seconds. By the time Mike reaches me, I’ve made up my mind.
Blink Step doesn’t require me to be moving to activate; it just requires sight. I’m next to Anika in a second, a foot sweeping out and dropping her, a sword pressed against her neck as I crouch over her. Another hand lights up, Lightning Strike forming in the palm I point toward Christian. I don’t let it loose, since right now, all I’m doing is posturing. Unfortunately, before I can open my mouth to speak, I’m cut off.
“Blink Step. Enhanced Lightning Strike. Mana Imbue and a Soulbound sword.” Damian’s voice carries quietly, his eyes raking over my body. “His Soul Shield will also deflect most attacks. At least, long enough for him to finish this.” I raise an eyebrow at Damian, who shrugs. “What? You want them to fight you?”
“Well, I was hoping to…” I frown as I’m interrupted by a punch to my body. It doesn’t actually penetrate the Soul Shield, but the flaring of the shield and the sense of pressure catch my attention.
Still held down, with a trickle of blood from where she cut herself as she shifted, Anika snarls at me, her hand still glowing. “Get. Off. Me.”
I pause, making sure she knows that I’m doing this on purpose before I slowly stand. As it is, I’m already surrounded by the wedges. “As my friend said, I can take you. All of you.” Okay, that’s probably a bit of an exaggeration, but I’m not going to tell them that. “But the point of this is if you can’t even stop me, what makes you think you can hold up against the Sect? Or anyone else?”
“You would have us give control of our city to you? To rule at your whims?” Christian says, some of the politeness slipping from his tone.
“I’m not very whimsical,” I reply, looking around the group. “But right now, arguing about who’s going to own the city forgets one thing. The Sect still does. So I’m going in and taking it away from them. Then we can talk about what happens afterward.”
“And if we don’t like what you have to say? You going to beat us all up? Might makes right?” Anika says, her voice tinged with contempt.
“Not right perhaps, but certainly effective. Until you can defend the city from me, or anyone else interested in it, you really don’t have the qualifications to argue,” I say, eyes sweeping over the group. “Or have you forgotten what happened the last time you had a little revolution?”
The moment I say that, I realize I might have pushed things too far. The way many bristle, growl, and even hunch down means I’ve hit a sore spot.
Thankfully, Damian breaks the silence and holds up his hands, stepping backward. His movements sparks movement in his group, who backs off too. “We’ll let you take it. For now. But we will have a longer discussion.”
“If you swear to hold a meeting to discuss both the Sect’s actions and yours, I will, reluctantly and temporarily, agree to you taking control of the city,” Christian says. “Understand that we will be watching you.”
“Of course,” I say, though I really just want to say “yeah, yeah, yeah.” But I’m no child, and while I hate playing these political games, it’s better than an all-out fight. Using my Skills was to show my strength. But too much and I’ll push them into a corner and we will end up swinging. And that’s the last thing I want.
Anika growls at me, her eyes moving to my friends and the puppies then me before she touches the already closed wound at her neck. Rather than speaking, she steps back reluctantly, since the other two sides have given way.
With the path clear, I give a command to the rest of my team to keep watch, then I walk onward. I’m not surprised, though somewhat annoyed, that once again, the group in play is mostly combat Classers. Well, outside of the scavenger group of Damian’s, which even then is made up mostly of combat Classers. It’s a pattern we’ve noticed again and again. For all their talk of equality, it’s always the combat Classers who take the lead, swinging around their oversized swords.
Thoughts like that take me to the top floor of the library and the city center orb. Thoughts like that keep me busy until I take over the city, send a note to Lana and co., and another note to Ingrid before replacing the security measures I damaged on my way in. Luckily, repairing things is cheaper than buying them outright. For the most part.
“So, boy-o, they did bring up a good point,” Ali says.
“Hmmm?” I say to the Spirit as I turn around to head downstairs. I glance at the restored metal door, stationary gun turrets, and traps as I walk out. “What point?”
“You really should consider creating your own group. Right now, if you die, everything reverts to the System. Without an organization of sorts, you’re just… well, you.”
“They didn’t…” I sigh, shaking my head. Whatever. Ali can jump to whatever conclusion he wants. He still is right. But for this second, I’d rather not consider it. For all the blood and tears, for all those lost, we’ve managed to succeed. Vancouver is ours. The Sect, as best we can tell, has withdrawn from BC. It might be a short-term ceasefire, a moment’s respite, but it is real. We have won the fight, if not the war.
And for that, I’m grateful. In this blasted world, small moments of peace and gratitude are all we can hope for. So I’ll take it and the Portal back to Kamloops and leave the worries about what to do next for another day.
Coast on Fire
A LitRPG Apocalypse
Book 5 of T
he System Apocalypse
Chapter 1
I’ve kited a Salamander over forty Levels above me. Had a Master Level Psychic fry my brain. Hell, I’ve even faced down a Dragon. I’ve faced calamities and crises, fought and bled, nearly died more times than I care to admit. For all that, I’d rather go back to any of those times than stay a single minute longer in this meeting room.
“Electronic voting is a farce! We cannot trust his AI to count the votes!” Christian Hecker, Level 38 Infantry Soldier and ex-CEO of a gold mining corporation, says as he leans forward. The mid-60s, brown-eyed, greying Caucasian gentleman is bereft of his rifle today, though he has his sword slung over his back and a pistol on his hip.
I regard the boomer as he besmirches Kim—my AI’s—honor, wondering what his angle is. As one side of the split Combat Classers, I’ve quickly learned that Christian always has an angle.
“We’re not doing a straight democratic election,” snaps Damian. The Level 22 Appraiser is spinning a pen around his fingers, obviously uneasy in our company. He’s got the lowest Level of everyone here, even if it is rising faster now that the Thirteen Moon Sect isn’t around. Still, as the voice of the scavengers, he has the moral right to be here. One that I’d had to enforce by dismissing an earlier meeting when he had been “unavoidably delayed.” “That’d just let you people load up all the seats with your friends.”
“You people?” Anika arches a graceful, plucked eyebrow. Ms. Kapoor, the Level 39 Summoner, is one of the few non-Caucasians in this room.
“I believe he means the non-Delvers,” I answer Anika, smiling slightly in amusement at Damian’s poor phrasing.
She inclines her head to me, appearing somewhat mollified. Truthfully, I figure getting annoyed over bad phrasing shows how uptight she is, but my role isn’t to judge, just pacify.
“Rationed seats are wrong,” Tsien Wuji says. He’s a Level 39 Engineer specializing in infrastructure construction. He’s also an influential member of the non-Combat Classers, Damien’s counterpart, and the other of the pair of their representatives, the more talkative of the two.