by Neven Iliev
Boxxy was well aware of the device. It was an Arclight Artificer design it had learned about from Fizzy. The former mimic was wary of being zapped by such contraptions, which was why it had spent several long nights talking with the golem about how to recognize, avoid, and counteract them. If its host wasn’t trying to downplay the Stun Stick’s output, then he simply didn’t know how to use it. Reginald could be forgiven for his ignorance, however. Artificers were still a relatively new Job that had yet to gain widespread appeal. It was common for people to have misconceptions and misunderstandings regarding their works.
Plus, the little switch on the Stun Stick’s handle that regulated the output looked broken and stuck on the lowest setting.
“Please…. *Hic* Don’t hurt Rowie…”
Boxxy kept its smugness to itself while outwardly whimpering and crying as if Keira was at her wits’ end.
“Quite,” Reginald rolled his eyes. “Well then, let’s see what you look like underneath all those fake tears.”
He pressed the rounded tip of the device to the catgirl’s cheek.
*ZZZT*
[Your target has been electrocuted. Target HP -163.]
“Ack!” Keira yelped, more out of surprise than pain. “W-what was that for?!”
“... Huh?”
Reginald was dumbfounded. He looked down at the Stun Stick in his hand and back to the perfectly healthy and un-shifting beastkin. The Stun Stick was doing the extra bit of damage as expected, but his involuntary subject was still sobbing and jabbering without showing any adverse reaction. Not to be disheartened, he zapped her a second time.
*ZZZT*
[Your target has been electrocuted. Target HP -73.]
“Ow! S-stop that!”
This was incredibly perplexing. Not only did the damage drop down to nearly ‘normal’ levels, but he never received the notification that his target had been stunned. He decided he’d try again to be sure.
*ZZZT*
[Your target has been electrocuted. Target HP -88.]
“Yeowch!”
The outcome did not change.
*ZZZT*
[Your target has been electrocuted. Target HP -80.]
“Rrrgh!”
The fourth attempt didn’t fare much better.
“What is this?” he exclaimed.
“That’s my line, you sick fuck!” the girl yelled angrily. “Do you take pleasure in toying with people?!”
Reginald ignored her and stepped closer to K.
“What?” the underling asked warily.
“Just need a… control group.”
*ZZZT*
[Your target has been electrocuted. Target HP -203.]
“AAAARGH!”
The elf-shaped monster recoiled with a yelp while clutching his left shoulder – the spot that Reginald zapped. He muttered obscenities through gritted teeth as his left arm limply hung by his side. The hand poking out of his coat’s long sleeve had turned thin, pitch-black, and four-fingered. As expected, subjecting a shapeshifter to their elemental Bane forced the unstable flesh to revert to its true form. The Stun Stick wasn’t powerful enough to completely incapacitate the adult doppelganger, but it clearly had enough of a kick to reveal its true nature.
“Hmm, seems to be in working order,” Reginald mumbled while ignoring K’s pained groans, “so how come it doesn’t do anything to the youngling?”
The older doppelganger was aware of the possibility that a shapeshifter could be tough enough to shrug off a minor zap without adverse effects. The banker himself was already at that level. However, if Keira could withstand this, she would have also shrugged off the knock-out gas his agents used on her. K hadn’t reported any abnormalities or unforeseen incidents with the capture, so Reginald was unable to deduce exactly what was going on.
“Hmm, perhaps it’s a rare lightning-resistant variant of the species?” he mused aloud. “Mutations happen quite often with our kind, so it’s far from impossible…”
In actuality, Reginald’s initial hunch was spot on. Between its abnormally high END and MNT Attributes, Boxxy shrugged off most of the physical and mental side-effects of electrocution. It still stung like a bitch and numbed its face, but it would take a much more powerful jolt to adversely affect it. That was especially true once the Adaptive Defense Skill kicked in. It activated whenever its user was subjected to elemental damage, reducing further damage of the same type by a whopping 31% at its current Level. It was useless when Boxxy was bombarded by multiple schools of magic in rapid succession, but really shone in situations such as this.
Furthermore, it was a Skill obtained through the Mimic Job, so Reginald had no way of knowing about it.
“I already told you I’m not one of you assholes!” Keira loudly insisted again.
“No, no, we both know that can’t be,” Reginald confidently stated. “My information leaves zero doubt.”
“Information? W-what are you talking about?! You’ve been stalking me?!”
“We’ve been keeping an eye on you, yes. You thought no one would look into the simultaneous appearance of a loud-mouthed kitty and this ridiculous ‘Sandman’ character? Not only was that ‘vigilante’ somehow always around you, but also my sources tell me he used Mirror Image to shake off pursuers more than once. You may have fooled the ignorant, but all signs point to you two being one and the same. Only a doppelganger can shapeshift to that extent.”
“You’re insane.”
“There’s a lot more to it, of course,” he ignored the act. “For example, the way you leave your pheromones all over the place. They positively reek of a youngling, you know. I even have multiple reports that claim you have a habit of suddenly disappearing in dark alleys, after which a number of homeless people in the area go missing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! There must be some mistake!”
“You were spotted climbing up and down that tree in some bizarre arachnid shape. I’ll give you credit for that one, though. Very creative. Even my agents had a tough time confirming that form as one of yours until they spied it leaving that little shack of yours. The complete and total lack of background information on your-”
“For fuck’s sake, boss!”
K, who had just recovered from being used as a test subject, suddenly voiced his displeasure.
“Let’s just do things my way and get it over with.”
“... You know what? Fine. Fine!” Reginald threw his hands up. “I’m done playing nice. Go ahead and lop off an ear or two.”
Boxxy finally realized the underling’s earlier intentions. It was a universal rule that chopping bits off a shapeshifter’s main body would make them either revert to their natural state or melt into a syrupy blob of meat. Only succubi like Snack were exempt from that flaw, but even then that was because her conjured body would evaporate if hacked to pieces. Boxxy could keep its act together in front of the Stun Stick, but it couldn’t fool the dismemberment test.
Then again, getting outed as a doppelganger in this enclosed space wasn’t an issue. Its host was bound to get through eventually, and Boxxy’s shenanigans had already born fruit. It had learned not only why Keira was targeted, but also how it got found out. The only sticking point was that Boxxy wasn’t quite sure why the senior shapeshifter spilled the beans so easily. Was it just because that old bag of bones wanted to brag about how great and smart he was? Or did he have some other point he was trying to get across?
Whatever the case might have been, Boxxy was reassured to know that it hadn’t been found out because of a mistake it had made. Though Reginald made it sound otherwise, the former mimic felt confident none of this was its fault. Keira’s true nature hadn’t been discovered because the shapeshifter screwed up, but because this group of doppelgangers knew exactly what they were looking for. It wasn’t like the government or its police forces had this kind of expertise in tracking down shapeshifters, nor did they need it. Unlike this secret society of doppelgangers, the authorities had the almight
y Appraisal on their side. Only those bearing a Hero title could hide their real identity from a Scribe, and no sane mind would ever consider a monster would have one.
Long story short, though it had been found out by Reginald’s lot, Keira’s true identity would remain unknown to the authorities for the time being. Having fulfilled its primary goal of acquiring information, Boxxy shifted mental gears towards its secondary objective – securing profits.
“What? Why?!” Keira wholeheartedly panicked. “Leave my ears alone you fucking freaks!”
K ignored her protests and once again drew his favorite blade. The smile on his lips suggested he was going to enjoy the next part. He gripped and pulled on her left feline ear, pressing the dagger to the delicate flesh, then abruptly sliced through it. Or, at least, he intended to.
*SCHWING*
The sharp sound of metal grinding on metal filled the room as the once soft and fuzzy body part turned into solid steel.
“What the-?!”
K reflexively stepped away. Even Reginald was taken aback by the sudden development.
“Hehehehe,” Keira chuckled. “Hahahahaha! HAHAHAHAHA! AH HAH HAH HAH HAH! AH HAH HAH! Hah ha! Aaaaahh!”
A blade-tipped tentacle shot out of the catgirl’s scalp and whipped down at her torso. Its steel, spear-shaped edge easily cut through the ropes binding her to the chair. It then swung like a whip, severing her delicate hands and thin neck. As the girl’s collar, shackles, and still-cackling head rolled onto the ground, the rest of her abruptly rose from the chair. Malleable flesh gushed from her self-inflicted wounds like water filling up an invisible dish, reforming the lost body parts in the blink of an eye. The transformation was so complete that it was impossible to tell that the thing shaped like a girl had just decapitated itself. There wasn’t even blood on its clothes.
K put up his guard and assumed a fighting stance, but the rambunctious guest did nothing but maintain a manic grin.
“Well done, Mr. Namhel. You’ve succeeded in drawing me out.”
Though it spoke in Keira’s voice, the cold tone was undoubtedly Boxxy’s.
“Don’t be coy with me, imbecile,” Reginald replied, thoroughly unimpressed. “Do you not understand your rash actions put our whole Facade in danger?”
He wasn’t showing it on the outside, but he was struggling to keep up his dignified front. He preferred to handle things with finesse and intelligence, not brute force. The captive’s spectacularly violent actions had unsettled him quite a bit.
“Really? In what way?” Boxxy asked nonchalantly.
“Do I seriously need to spell it out for you? You’ve nestled yourself so deep into the adventuring community's affairs that you’ll most likely trigger a large-scale doppelganger sweep when you’re discovered!”
Reginald would be fine, but his underground network would be completely dismantled in the process. Books detailing the Silent War of ages past were quite vivid in showing what the enlightened were capable of once they united against a common enemy. They had driven the doppelgangers to the brink of extinction once before, and were more than capable of doing a better job given the opportunity.
“Ah, but that’s a matter of ‘if’ rather than ‘when,’ is it not?” the other argued.
“No, it isn’t! You can’t avoid those mandatory Appraisals forever!”
“Who said I’m avoiding them?”
“... Come again?”
“Surely someone of your standing has a Scribe or two on hand. Why don’t you have them do a Full Appraisal on me? I’m sure you’ll understand then.”
“There’s no need for that. I can do it myself.”
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” Boxxy shrugged mockingly. “I got a pretty good one, myself. Go on then, have at it."
Reginald hesitated for an instant before he put a hand on Keira’ s forehead and invoked a Full Appraisal. The flood of information invading his mind left him at a complete loss for words. Hero of Chaos? Since when was that a thing? And just what atrocities had it committed to earn the Butcher of Humanity Perk? An Artificer, a Warlock, a Ranger, and a Blade Dancer all stacked on top of the Doppelganger Job? What about those two other Jobs that his Appraisal failed to identify? The novel-length list of Skills alone was enough to make his head spin, but it was the monumental amount of Attributes that truly made him feel sick. Just how long did this thing train to obtain such-
“SEVEN MONTHS?!” he screamed at its age. “You gotta be shitting me! How? Why?! What?!”
His proud veneer of vanity was thoroughly shattered by the incomprehensible Status in front of his eyes. Whatever or whoever this Boxxy T. Morningwood was, it had obtained enough strength to easily overpower everyone in the building at once, shapeshifter and enlightened alike. No, it went beyond that. It could easily match an entire army. It was the sort of monster that wouldn’t go down unless confronted with an entire team of Level 100 adventurers. And this was despite it being a doppelganger, which was a species that was more suited to deception and subterfuge than direct combat. Such terrifying power had been acquired before it was even one year old, and all of it was packed into the shape of a tiny little beastkin girl. It was an existence that completely destroyed- nay, ignored Reginald’s common sense.
“Do you understand now?”
The banker fell on his ass and nodded vigorously while clumsily crawling away backwards. The shock was so severe that he had completely forgotten how to elf.
“Uh, Boss?” K called out to him. “You okay? What’s this about seven months?”
Said boss’s panicked eyes sharpened into a hateful, accusatory glare as they turned towards his subordinate.
No, he calmed himself, K’s not at fault here.
The underling’s response was natural considering he just saw his cold and calculating superior open-jawed and wide-eyed on the ground. That simpleton couldn’t know he was in the presence of a catastrophe that walked on two legs. If he did, then he would have already flung himself out of the window to save himself from his own captive.
Wait… captive?
Realization struck Reginald like a flying brick.
“You… You allowed yourself to get captured, didn’t you?”
“Indeed,” Boxxy nodded.
“Why?”
“Simple. I wasn’t sure how to arrange a meeting, so I had that moron in the corner do it for me.”
“I… see…”
“And now that we’re here,” the girl-shaped-monster erased its grin, “I believe we should get down to negotiations.”
“Very well. K, leave us.”
“Huh? But what if she tries to pull something?”
“If she meant to kill us, we’d already be dead.”
Reginald winced at how naturally the word ‘she’ left his lips. Usually, it was hardly worth noting. He urged both himself and those he worked with to use gendered pronouns at all times, even in private. This was done with the goal of forcing a habit. Doppelgangers might have been sexless monsters by nature, but their Facades – the faces they wore in public – were not. If they casually referred to one another as ‘him’ and ‘her’ instead of ‘it’ and ‘that,’ then they were less likely to have an accidental slip of the tongue.
Therefore, the fact that Reginald so casually used ‘she’ proved that he had already subconsciously recognized his guest’s acting skills as first-rate.
“Look, just go.”
K accepted the repeated ‘offer’ to get away from this mess and quietly left the room. The only reason he didn’t bolt immediately was out of obligation, not concern. Even if they acted otherwise, doppelgangers were incapable of caring for another. K worried about his own meal ticket, not his fellow shapeshifter’s wellbeing. Without the boss around to cover his ass, the minion would have to abandon his comfortable lifestyle and return to hardship and vagrancy. A thoroughly unattractive proposition, to say the least.
With K gone, Reginald composed himself as best he could and took a seat behind his desk.
Boxxy sat opposite him in the same armchair that Keira was bound to.
“First of all, does your little club have a name?”
Those words severely irked the elder doppelganger. Comparing the syndicate he spent decades building to a ‘little club’ injured his pride.
“... No, it doesn’t,” he answered after a brief pause. “Some of our more… enthusiastic members refer to our organization as ‘The Silent Circle,’ but I am in the process of putting a stop to that.”
“How come? Isn’t that pretty fitting?”
“Yes, it is. That’s exactly the problem. We’re not supposed to exist, so we don’t need a name. And even if we did, it’s much better to use something less obvious, like Granny Elda’s Baked Goods.”
“Fair point,” Boxxy conceded. “That aside, seeing as how you went out of your way to ‘reach out’ to me, should I assume you have some objections to my methods?”
“That’s putting it mildly. Everything you do goes against the Facade me and my compatriots work to maintain.”
“What’s this Facade you keep talking about? Is it tasty?”
“Uhh… Well, matters of flavor aside, the Facade is essentially our way of life. A set of rules and laws that me and my organization enforce on other doppelgangers so that all of us can maintain a relatively peaceful lifestyle. However, I realize now that trying to impose such things on you would be… suicidal.”
“An excellent deduction,” Keira nodded. “Now, do you have any questions?”
“Many, but I’ll limit myself to the essentials. You’re not a natural born doppelganger, but Ranked Up from something else, right?”
“That’s right.”
“May I ask from what?”
“You may.”
There was a brief moment of silence.
“Am I going to get a straight answer if I ask?”
“Nope,” the redhead cheerfully replied
That was only natural. Though possible in theory, Reginald had never heard of something evolving into a doppelganger through a Rank Up. The individual before him was one such case, but it refused to talk about it. That meant it clearly understood that knowledge was power. The ‘ganger capo was starting to regret the way he ran his mouth earlier, but he forced himself to focus on the present. The bright side in all of this was that Boxxy clearly understood the value of secrets and the importance of discretion. Furthermore, it opted to negotiate. It was willing to look past the bumpy introduction to secure a mutually beneficial agreement rather than lash out because of a severe misunderstanding. All of that showed that Boxxy T. Morningwood was not a fool that gave into its violent urges instead of listening to reason.