Life in the North: An Apocalyptic LitRPG

“You know, boy-o, I think you guys have been getting a little too lax,” Ali thinks back. “The M’rimul Worms are Level 41 monsters and fight in swarms of ten. They’re not snack food!”

“Might as well be. Anyway, we could use the experience if you can find them. We’ve barely shifted the meter since we left the Yukon.”

I hear his mental grunt of acknowledgement. You’d think that with the monsters being generally of a lower Level, there’d be a higher survival rate, but it doesn’t really work that way. Doesn’t matter if it’s a Level 10 or a Level 50 monster; when you’re Level 1, you’re just as dead.

“So…” Sam says as he walks up to our group, his voice punctuated by the crack of rifles and the sizzle of beam weaponry going off toward the tail-end of the column. “People are wondering how long we’re going to be here. We’ve attracted some attention…”

The group looks at me, and I take a moment to check the little monster radar in the corner of my eyes. With Ali away from the group, he can’t share the information with everyone else. There’s nothing too major out there though—just a bunch of Level 20s, from the look of it.

I look at Sam and shrug. “We’re about two, maybe three hours out from the city. This is a decently Leveled area. The hunters should be able to rack up some experience while picking up some loot. If they strap some of the corpses to the cars, they should be able to bring in some of them too.”

“But the women…” Sam falls silent as the three women seated around me just dare him to finish that sentence. Sam coughs and changes his tune. “The non-combatants, they’re a bit nervous.”

Diplomatic as he might be, we know he’s talking about the small group of women who have been making our lives miserable. Somehow, they’ve missed the memo about the earth-shattering change in the social order and seem intent on ignoring certain realities—like violence and the need for Leveling.

“Tough cookies. They’re safe,” I state flatly. “It’s the last chance for their hunters to gain some Levels and Credits safely, so they can sit and stew for all I care.” At the pained look on Sam’s face, I sigh and offer him a little salvation. “We have to leave in an hour if we want to get to the town by daylight.”

“An hour. I can work with that,” Sam says, bobbing his head. He casts a hungry look at the food on our table, and Lana sends him off with an impromptu steak sandwich literally dripping with gravy and monster bacon.

“You’re too nice to him,” Ingrid says.

“Not his fault,” I say.

“Well, he should tell those idiots to come tell it to your face.”

“Eh… I’d rather not.” I grimace, recalling the first few days.

Dealing with that group, especially Ms. Starling, had been painful. I’d actually tried to listen to them bitch about the lack of proper accommodation until I nearly lost my temper. Thankfully, Sam stepped in before things got too far, but I had seriously considered hitting them till they shut up. Which, when you think about it, isn’t exactly the most civilized or smart behavior. Look, I said I thought about it—I didn’t actually do it.

Clearing her throat slightly, Lana redirects our conversation. “What’s the plan for Fort Nelson anyway?”

“Ummm… plan?”

“Yes, plans. They’re not just for clearing dungeons,” drawls Ingrid.

I glare at the First Nation woman. Just because I don’t really talk about my plans doesn’t mean I don’t have one. “What’s there to plan? We go in, we drop them off, and we see what’s up. After that, well, we move on.”

“Oh, John…” Lana sighs. “What if the local government doesn’t want refugees? What if they stop us from going in? What if they need help? Do we want to stay and help? Clear a few dungeons for them or something?”

“Uhh…”

“And what are we doing out here anyway?” Mikito says, pointing a pair of chopsticks at me. “You haven’t actually told us.”

“Didn’t exactly ask you guys to come along,” I protest. I get a pair of snorts and an eye roll, making me rub the back of my neck. “I didn’t… well, I do have some plans. But mostly, I’m looking to check out how the rest of the world is doing. Maybe help out a bit here and there…”

Truth be told, I have a goal. A few actually. But they’re so nebulous, so far away that I dare not breathe them out loud. Never mind the fact that anything I say can and will be registered by the System and be potentially sellable to someone else; my plans just aren’t pertinent to the discussion. Not yet at least.

“Great. We’re the A-Team,” Lana says.

“Dibs on Face,” Ingrid says.

“Well, I guess I’m Hannibal then,” Lana says while Mikito looks puzzled.

“And John’s BA, of course,” Ingrid says, which makes Lana frown in thought.

“I don’t know. He’s more Murdock than Mikito,” Lana points out.

I open my mouth to protest then decide against it. When faced with two arguing women, one of which you occasionally bed, I pity the fool who gets involved. Instead, I explain to Mikito what they’re talking about.

Chapter 2

“Ahoy the gate,” I called out, hours later, when we finally arrived at Fort Nelson. Or technically, the outer gates of the city.

There must be something instinctive in our desire for walls, even if they are somewhat useless. These walls aren’t normal brick—and their slight silvery sheen hints at them being System-assisted at least—but I could probably punch through them given enough time. Or heck, jump over the twenty-foot walls.

Then again, that’s not exactly fair. I’m comparing my Advanced Class Level 37 strength of 97 against their wall while the surrounding zone is only around level 15+. The most dangerous thing we’ve found close to them is a Level 35 dungeon, and that’s a good two-hour hike east. So perhaps the wall isn’t entirely irrational.

“Who are you people?” a voice calls down, the owner hidden behind a gun.

I absently note that a beam rifle is pointed at me—a rather nice one too. A moment later, Ali flashes the guard’s status above his head.

Ian Crew (Level 24 Hunter)

HP: 280/280

MP: 180/180

Condition: Scared

“Hunter? That seems really generic,” I send to Ali.

“The idiot took a Basic class and traded his perk for a Soulbound beam rifle. At least he got an upgradeable toy,” Ali says. He’s not actually here with me, instead floating deeper in town. He’s scanning the System for information about the place and feeds back to me.

“Visitors from up north. We’ve brought some refugees from the communities above,” I shout back. “We have women and children here. Along with some trained fighters and a whole bunch of loot.”

I watch the guard glance at the convoy behind me, then at our hover bikes. Interestingly enough, while he’s noted Lana’s pets, he doesn’t seem as concerned about them, even if his eyes keep straying to the redhead herself. The menagerie of animals is rather awe-inspiring to most.

“Sorry! I can’t let you in. I need to tell Arik and get his okay,” Ian says. “Do you mind waiting?”

I nod agreeably and settle in to wait, letting my eyes run over the other guards, who have relaxed after seeing that I’m happy to wait. As I said, I could force my way in, but what’s the point? A few minutes of waiting won’t hurt us.

“You came from up north?” Ian calls down once he’s sent off one of the guards with his message. His eyes roam over our gear again, stopping to linger on Lana before he stares at me. I know what he sees—armored jumpsuit, high-end beam pistol, expensive hover bike—and can see him doing the math in his head. “Things must be going pretty good up there.”

“You could say that,” I call back. Memories flash through my mind—the fights and the losses we saw in Whitehorse. Richard, Ulric, Miranda. Roxley and his betrayal. My hands clench and I push aside the hurt.

Tired of shouting, I get off the bike and flex my feet, jumping up onto the wall and landing next to the startled guard. I see more than one gun swing toward me, the guards’ eyes wide, but no one takes a shot. Very good discipline. I’m impressed.

“What—”

“Sorry. Got tired of shouting.” I lean back against the wall, purposely crossing my feet and putting myself in a disadvantageous position. After that is done, I hold out my hand. “Chocolate?”

“You…” He stares at me then down at the wall then back at me. “What Level are you?”

“That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?” I smile at him absently as I take the time to read the notification that’s popped up since I crossed the boundary of the town. “At least take me out for dinner first.”

You have entered a Safe Zone (The Village of Fort Nelson)

Mana flows in this area have been forcefully stabilized. No monster spawning will occur within boundaries.

This Safe Zone includes:

Village of Fort Nelson City Center

The Shop

Quest Hall

More…

Chastised, Ian quiets down. I can see him mentally consider and discard asking me to move. Funnily, I actually would, if he asked, since my point has been made. This should dissuade them from doing anything stupid, but considering they’ve been hesitating to help out a bunch of refugees, I’m not exactly enthused with the welcome we’ve received so far.

“We sent people north, but they said… well, it gets harder,” Ian says to fill the silence.

“It does. Gets pretty high up in the Yukon.” Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch him twitch, and I pop the chocolate into my mouth since he hasn’t taken it.

Behind me, I hear the hushed conversations of my friends as they wait, the refugees trying to convince each other that they’ll be let in. The guards are still tense, shooting me worried looks.

“You’re from the Yukon? Watson Lake or…?”

“Whitehorse,” I answer.

From a building, another guard pops out and runs up to Ian, who walks over to listen.

“Arik is coming. They’re to stay outside till they take the Oath,” I lipread the guard saying to Ian.

Ian nods and walks back to me, smiling slightly, nervousness quite well hidden. “Arik, the ummm… owner of the town is coming to greet you himself. If you can just wait…”

“Ali, get back here. And see if you can figure out what they mean by an Oath,” I send to the Spirit before looking at Ian and smiling languidly. “Sure. Mind if I let the others know that we’ll be waiting a bit?”

“Of course, but he won’t be long,” Ian says.

“We’re getting greeted by the owner himself. So we’ve got to wait,” I call to the group below.

I kind of wish I had set up some kind of signal for potential trouble, but well, I didn’t think about it. Naïve, I guess. Or maybe, as Ali says, overconfident. Still, my friends have been living on the razor’s edge for over a year now and their instincts are as good as mine. Perhaps better. I can see the subtle shifts in their demeanor as they get ready for potential trouble.

While we wait, I engage Ian in some small talk. Trading information about the System, learning a little about their experiences. Fort Nelson was hit badly in the initial few days, the city spread out as it is. Luckily, a group of survivors found the Shop and managed to rally others, eventually becoming able to purchase a few safe zones in the city center. After that, it was just a matter of time before they established the Village. Lucky for them, no external party was that interested in picking up the Settlement Key here, so they could purchase it themselves.

“And now the entire Yukon/Alaska region is under control of this Duchess,” I say as I finish a summarised version of our year.

“Who is a dark elf. But not…?” Ian says, his voice rising a little at the term dark elf.

I don’t blame him. The concept of dark elves isn’t something that popular consciousness knows much about. It’s more a geek thing. Heck, I mostly know of them from a book series my ex used to rave about and I never got around to reading.

“Truinnar. Just think of them as Truinnar. Black-skinned, very pretty elf-looking creatures with a highly sophisticated, back-stabbing society,” I say.

“That’s insane,” Ian says then turns his head as figures walk down the street.

I watch the group come, a larger blond gymrat in the lead, followed by a middle-aged lady and a teenager at the back. The blond gymrat is obviously a bodyguard, the way he watches everything, though from the way they move…

“The kid in the back is Arik, isn’t he?”

“Got it, boy-o. Don’t forget, he could have gotten a gene treatment,” Ali sends back, reminding me that age is much more difficult to pinpoint these days. So he could either be a really smart teenager, like Jason, who’s taken over the town or just someone who has had their physical body reset to a younger age by the System.

Within minutes, the group is up on the wall and making greetings. Or at least, some greetings.

“I’m Arik Dorf,” Arik says, offering me his hand and a smile. “This is Piotr and Min.”

Level 31 Justicar, Level 29 Bodyguard, and Level 31 Administrator respectively. Ali floats, invisible to everyone else, behind the group, staring at Arik with a fierce expression. My entreaties for information have been ignored in favor of making faces, which annoys me since I really want to know what type of Class a Justicar is.

“John Lee,” I say. “So what’s the holdup? Sun’s setting, and while it doesn’t necessarily get much more dangerous after dark, it certainly gets more uncomfortable.”

“Straight to the point, aren’t you?” Arik says, smiling agreeably. Seeing that I’m not biting, he continues. “Well, Mr. Lee, the problem is that you have a large number of fighters. Many of whom, I understand, are nearly as strong as my guards.”

“You’re worried about them taking over?” I say, slightly incredulously.

Arik raises an eyebrow. “You really have an untrusting nature, don’t you? No. I’m worried about them causing trouble in the city and us being unable to do much about it. We’ve had incidents with survivors who have… accepted… the violent nature of our present lives.”

“Oh…” I consider what he’s not saying. Right. Idiots with power, especially young idiots with power, throwing their strength around. I recall Amelia, the ex-RCMP, complaining about that more than once. “So what do you want us to do?”

“It’s actually quite simple. I have a Skill that allows me to take an Oath from others. Those who break the Oath are penalized significantly, which will make handling them easier,” Arik says.

“That’s really interesting. I’ve heard of Skills like that before—Lords, Kings, and the like often have them—but this is the first time I’ve seen a Justicar,” Ali comments to me.

“Sounds a lot like a Contract to me,” I send back while speaking to Arik. “And what is this Oath?”

“I swear to do no harm to the citizens within the Village of Fort Nelson, to abide by the orders of duly-appointed guardians of the peace within the Village, and to leave the Village if so requested,” Arik says. “And to clarify, all the guardians wear these pins.” Arik taps a small oblong pin with a castle on it that shifts like it’s a holographic projection. “They’re also linked to each individual, so if they get removed forcefully or aren’t in contact with the designated individual, they lose their luster and break down.”

“Seems mostly reasonable.” I’ll admit, I can see the potential for abuse, including the stratification of those in power and those not but… “You’ll have to ask Sam and his people about this yourself. As for me, I don’t intend to stay long. Amend the Oath to add a timer and a designation that it’s only for the town and we’re good to go.”

Arik’s eyes narrow while gymrat bristles at my tone. The Administrator leans in and whispers into Arik’s ear.

He nods, smiling at me. “Of course. We’ll designate that the Oath only takes effect in the city.”

“For a period of two weeks,” I said, smiling. “I’ll be gone by then.”

“For a month.”

“Done,” I say.

After that, I take the Oath easily and send Ali down to relay the information to the team. Arik takes his leave too, to stand at the gates to greet and administer the Oath to the refugees. I absently note that no one gives him trouble, except for Sam. He balks until Lana pulls him aside. A short while later, he’s back, helping the Administrator manage the refugees. I have to admit, the village is efficient at sorting and housing our little convoy, sending the groups to various empty houses or, for the eager, the Shop.

“So, Ali, what’re the consequences of breaking this Oath anyway?” I ask the Spirit while waiting.

“They vary, but mostly depend on the level of the Skill. With only a few points, you’d probably take a hit to your own Levels temporarily,” Ali sends back to me as he stares into space, reading whatever information he can see in the backend of the System. “Won’t make a huge difference to you, but I’d be careful about taking an Oath with a real King.”

When Lana and the group get in, I hop down from the wall, after waving goodbye to Ian, and command Sabre to follow. I hear a few muted gasps as the PAV moves by itself, quickly muted.

“So, Shop?” I grin at the group and get confirming nods.

A couple of weeks of fighting and not having access to the Shop means that our inventory is filled to the brim. We’d even taken to dumping some of the less valuable items with the refugees, just so that we didn’t waste them. And of course, in my Altered Space, I have a few corpses that desperately need a good Butcher or Harvester.

“Shop!” Mikito says happily, gunning her PAV.

We all follow the young Japanese woman till we come across the central pedestal with its silver-steel sphere. Each person who touches it disappears, transported to a Shop location—an extra-dimensional retailer. Of course, which Shop you enter is dependent on a number of factors—personal invitations, your reputation, the amount of Credits you have spent, all of that.

The Shop I’m transported to is green. Lots and lots of green, from the simple reception desks to the waiting couches to the personal shopping rooms. A few seconds after I appear, the anthromorphic Fox who seems to be my personal shopper comes hurrying out of a room, all kinds of toothy smiles.

“Redeemer!” Fox greets me. Clad in a vest and blousy pants combo, his dark brown eyes glint with avarice as he ushers me into a quiet room. “It has been too long.”

Ali darts off to speak with his own friend in the Shop and take care of the selling of our loot.

“No Shop access,” I explain. “I’ve not got much to buy today. Just need a refill of some of my consumables.”

“Ah…” The Fox deflates a bit before he perks up like the consummate professional he is. I probably wouldn’t even have noticed the first if it wasn’t for my high Perception. “Perhaps I can interest you in a portable link?”

Portable Shop Link (Single Connection)

The portable shop link transports a single individual to the connected Shop. May only be used outside of dungeons and on the designated world (Earth).

Uses: 3

Cost: 20,000 Credits

“That seems cheap,” I say after I finish reading over the information and staring at the small chip that makes up the link device. Over in the corner, I see the Fox finishing up my order for the various bullets, missiles, and grenades that make up my refill.

“The link is subsidized by the establishment,” Fox says. “And is, of course, only for our most valuable customers.”

“Gotcha. Probably too expensive for me though. Oh, I finished up the last few books, so I’ll need the next five on the System Quest,” I say.

Fox nods, tapping in the information as he pulls out the next few books on my never-ending list. Not surprisingly, someone had put together a list of books to read that would generate experience points for completing small milestones in the System Quest. Of course, while each book might give minor revelations about what and how the System works, they still don’t answer the real question—what is it? In many ways, I feel very much like I’m a blind man feeling an elephant with books.

So far, what I’ve gathered is that the System is something that precedes all publicly available records of the Galactic Council. In addition, the System has administrative points—control areas in each zone. Take control of enough of these and you can make minor adjustments to the System within the world of that zone, much like how we can adjust our villages and towns. The Galactic Council then is just the governments and individuals who control a significant number of these administrative points, getting together to decide the rules of the System overall. Outside of the rules imposed by the Galactic Council, the System itself controls and adjusts everything in our worlds, upgrading, Leveling, and developing both material and organic objects without care to “normal” scientific laws.

Most of this is done by using the Mana that flows throughout System-registered worlds. In fact, Mana seems to be the main controlling force for the System—the electricity, if you will, of the System.

One of the major arguments in the books I’ve read is whether the System is sentient or not. Numerous tests have shown that the amount of Mana input into the System—from Spells, teleportations, Skills, and the like—is always higher than the output. In fact, there’s a “loss” of about 5%, give or take a few decimals here and there. It’s a weirdly specific number, which many on the “System is a software” side point to. Of course, others have noted that just because it’s a software doesn’t mean it can’t be sentient. A lot of fluctuations in the overall amount of Mana that flows into and out of the System lend credence to the argument that there’s something more than just an out-of-control software program at work.

“Redeemer? Redeemer?” Fox calls, and I blink, staring at the retailer who has been trying to get my attention for a bit. Interrupting a customer’s thoughts might not be a good sales tactic, but Fox and I have known each other long enough now that he doesn’t worry about it. “Do you have anything else for me?”

I grimace, hating that name. That title, even if most of the aliens seem to think it’s something I should be proud of having. System-generated titles are a big thing, marking a significant achievement by the individual. How big seems to vary depending on the culture of course, but it’s a still mark of respect—similar to tattoos in older cultures or prisons.

“Sorry. Go ahead. I’ll browse some Skills while I wait for Ali.”

“Of course. Do call for me if you need anything else.” Fox bobs his head then exits the room, leaving me alone.

I consider pulling out one of my new books and dismiss that thought, instead taking the moment to refresh my memory about my Status and what I might need to buy.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

37

Titles

Monster’s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1700

Stamina

1700

Mana

1310

Mana Regeneration

98 / minute

Attributes

Strength

94

Agility

161

Constitution

170

Perception

58

Intelligence

131

Willpower

133

Charisma

16

Luck

30

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

2

Blade Strike

2

Thousand Steps

1

Altered Space

2

Two are One

1

The Body’s Resolve

3

Greater Detection

1

A Thousand blades

1

Soul Shield

2

Blink Step

2

Tech Link*

2

Instantaneous Inventory*

1

Cleave*

2

Frenzy*

1

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

My build, as a friend would say, is weird. I’m part tank, part damage dealer, part Mage. While I once chided Jason for thinking of this world like one of his games, he did have one point that I’ve been considering for a bit.

If you’re working in a team, specialization might be the way to go. That way, if you compare yourself to someone of the same level who generalized, you’ll generally be more powerful. Of course, you want a pretty stable base first—running around with a 100 Health is just asking to die—but at a certain point, specializing makes sense. Especially since I can’t seem to shake off my friends.

The truth about Jason’s words is something I’ve noted while sparring with Mikito or Ingrid, the way they’re significantly better than I am in their areas of specialization. I can keep up in a fight, but if I stick to playing fair, I’m normally hard-pressed to win. Mikito’s got a bunch of speed abilities, along with Class Skills, that make her a dangerous melee fighter, while Ingrid is more the glass cannon type—able to hit with a ridiculously high amount of damage, but squishy.

In fact, one of the problems with bouncing upward to an Advanced Class the moment the System arrived was that the Erethran Honor Guard Skill tree is mostly about supporting others. The individual combat Skills are mostly in the Basic Erethran Guard or Erethran Soldier Class. That’s also why I’ve been poking around a bunch of Basic Skill trees, searching for things I can purchase from the Shop to give me more oomph. Problem is, Skills are nice, but they all come with a cost. Credits to purchase them, then an on-going Mana and Stamina cost when you use them. I’ll admit though, a lot of my desire for more strength has to do with the fact that I got my ass kicked before we left Whitehorse.

All that said, I still have no clue what my specialization would be. I can do a little of everything, but none of the roles attract me. I like being able to switch between the front-line and back depending on the situation. It’s saved my ass quite a few times, being entirely self-reliant. But now I’ve got a party…

I stare at my Status screen one last time before turning back to the Shop’s inventory. Time to stop mulling over things and get back to it. I haven’t made a decision in weeks, so why should I be able to make one now? Better to focus on what I can do right now. Maybe I can find something to augment my ranged attacks…

I’m the first one back, though I’ve probably spent more time in the Shop due to the better time dilation in my Shop. Knowing that the others will be a while, I get moving on arranging our accommodations for the evening and leave Ali to guide the group to the abandoned house I locate. By the time they all arrive, I’ve already gotten a few plates on the table illuminated by some System-bought lamps. We’re all kind of used to it by now, so the lack of electricity isn’t a big problem. The lack of hot water on the other hand…

“Couldn’t you find a place with hot water? I was looking forward to a bath,” Ingrid grumbles with nods from the other women.

“Use a spell,” I say. “They don’t even have enough upgraded places for their own people. What makes you think they’re going to let a bunch of tourists into an upgraded house?”

“We could pay,” Ingrid says.

“Sure. You going to knock on the doors?” I wave at the exit.

Ingrid just stuffs her face rather than chat. As sarcastic and occasionally rude as she is to us, I’ve realized Ingrid is actually a tad shy among strangers.

Lana, who has taken over cooking the rest of the meal, walks by, dropping another platter of food. “Ali tells me there’s a dungeon close by. One that’s pretty close to over-running itself.”

“You want us to clear it?” I ask while Mikito perks up slightly.

“It’d take a day at most,” Lana says. “And the first clear bonus is always nice.”

I consider her words. The first clear bonus is a significant chunk of experience, for sure. In fact, it’s about the only thing that has given us any real experience since we left the Yukon. The rest has been dribs and drabs from beating up under-Leveled monsters. “All right. I’m in.”

“Yes,” Mikito says.

“Fine. I’m in too,” Ingrid says.

Lana flashes all of us a smile of gratitude before plunking a case of bottles on the table. We all stare with disbelief at the familiar brand of Apocalypse Ale. As one of the Yukon’s most popular exports since the System, we all know how expensive the beer is.

“How…?” Mikito asks, and Lana laughs softly.

“What? There are some advantages of part-owning the brewery through the foundation we set up,” Lana says then fixes me with a look. “If someone actually looked into it, he might be surprised what he could get.”

“Huh…” I say, snagging a bottle and popping off the screw-top. “With this kind of incentive, I just might…”

Lana grins and snags a bottle before we all settle in for dinner and rest in an actual bed. Now that we’ve decided on actually testing out the dungeon, we drag Ali over and probe him for more information. Not that he has much, but we often find that anything is better than nothing.

Chapter 3

“Doesn’t look like much of a dungeon,” I mutter, staring at the notification floating in front of my face the moment I step into the gloomy, shadowed forest. It’s subtle, but the change in the ecology is there. One side of the barrier is less lush and more shadowed than the other.

“It is only Level 35,” Lana says, stretching slightly and pulling her skintight jumpsuit tight in all the right places.

When she catches me looking, the redhead flashes me a grin and a wink, making me blush slightly. Living and traveling with a group, we’ve not had a lot of private time lately, which has been a bit annoying. That, and we want to verify her birth control options are still working. Ever since we figured out that the System has a bad tendency of degrading purchased birth control options, we’ve all gotten a little paranoid about double-checking things like that.

“True,” Mikito says, her naginata resting on her shoulder as she straddles her bike. The polearm dwarfs the tiny Asian lady, who’s clad much like Lana, albeit with slightly more armor plating. Like me, she hasn’t yet bothered to transform her PAV. “We doing this on foot?”

“Probably for the best. It’s only a few kilometers in radius. Figure the boss is in the center,” I say, eyeing the fuzzy readouts that my minimap is giving me. Damn dungeons and their weird rules.

“Ingrid and the puppies are on scouting duty. Pull anything you find back to us…” I look around before sighing, realizing that the woman has already disappeared. “As for Tigger…”

“No. Just no,” Lana says, glaring at me.

“But…” I snap it shut as Lana continues to glare at me. “Fine. What is he called?”

“Roland,” Lana says, scratching the tiger, pushing his head into her waist.

“Roland staying with us or…?” Thus far, beyond being big, I’ve yet to see anything particularly special about the tiger, but I wasn’t exactly paying attention either. Without knowing its specialty, I’m leery of giving suggestions.

“He’ll stay for now with Anna,” Lana says, the red fox content to trot alongside the redhead.

All that done, I nod and wave her and Mikito on, letting my eyes dart over their information one last time before I play rearguard.

Mikito Sato (Middle Samurai Level 3)

HP: 770/770

MP: 430/430

Conditions: None

Lana Pearson (Beast Tamer Level 49)

HP: 380/380

MP: 600/600

Conditions: Bestial Senses, Linked x 4

It takes about ten minutes before a body drops in front of us, all dark blue hair, muscles, and blood. Mikito bisects the body before it even hits the ground, while Lana has a gun trained on it in seconds. That’s before we realize it’s a corpse. A moment later, I hear giggling beside us, Ingrid having shifted positions immediately.

“Ingrid…” Lana sighs then prods the corpse with her feet.

Now that we’re no longer worried about our lives, we spend some time actually looking at the monster corpse. It’s similar to a chimpanzee in size but with blue fur, an extra pair of secondary arms, and a tail that looks as though it should belong on a scorpion. After assessing the monster, we get moving.

We barely take ten steps before Lana stiffens, swiveling to the left. Her lips tighten and she drops to a knee, her gun raised. Roland lets out a low growl and pads to her left, his entire body shimmering. Within seconds, it’s hard to see the creature, his body camouflaged against the background terrain. Anna shifts to a safe distance away from Lana, flames bursting from her body and licking against her fur.

“Howard’s on his way back with company,” Lana says as she settles in.

Mikito makes a noise of assent but doesn’t move, continuing to watch her side of the forest. I grunt, consider my options, and pull a beam rifle from storage. Mana Darts, my favorite spell, is just a little too low Level for these guys, and everything else I have is a bit too destructive. A Fireball in a forest is a bad idea, especially since the undergrowth here doesn’t seem to have had a good forest fire in a bit. Hmmm… something else to consider. Who would have thought that bringing death and destruction actually had so many different facets?

Tension mounts as we wait, but we don’t have to wait long. The sounds of branches breaking and the padding of a pony-sized husky reaches us within seconds, then the large hound is here. Close behind him are a dozen of the ape-creatures, swinging through the trees and loping on the ground in a weird knuckle, knuckle, feet gait. The transition from peace to violence is sudden as Roland claws apart the first to cross the threshold, then he launches himself against a second. Lana opens fire with her rifle, and Anna lays down a low wall of flame to ward off the majority while Howard spins around to fight.

I add to the carnage and manage to catch sight of Ingrid coming out of the shadows to do her thing. The fight is fast and furious, but we out-Level the apes by a significant margin. By unspoken agreement, we let Lana and her pets do most of the work, the Beast Tamer having the least number of hours in the field and thus the lowest Level.

A short couple of minutes later, I’m looting the bodies and storing them in my Altered Space while Lana heals her pets.

“Think we should get lunch ready while Lana takes care of the dungeon?” Ingrid says from behind me.

I sigh, refusing to jump even if her sudden appearance is a bit startling. I finish putting the corpse in my Altered Space before I turn around. “Might not be a bad idea.”

“You guys…” Lana says, sounding exasperated. “I’m not that far behind all of you. And the boss might be a little tough for me and the boys. And Anna.”

“A little tough is good,” Mikito says. “Good training.”

“Sounds like we’re decided. I’ll lend you Ali,” I say while setting up the picnic table. “Ingrid, your turn.”

“Hey!” Lana says, growling at us.

“Fine. Stew and bannock?” Ingrid says.

“Sounds delicious.”

“Rice too, please,” Mikito says.

“Hey!” Lana says again.

“You still here?” I look at Lana, humor dancing in my eyes as she stands there, hands on her hips while we ignore her protests.

She glares at me, mouths, “You’ll pay for this,” then stomps off, followed by her pets. Within minutes, her passage fades and I stretch.

“Going for a stroll?” Ingrid says, her voice full of mirth while Mikito snorts.

I shrug, refusing to answer. Ingrid waves the ladle at me and I nod before following Lana quietly. I might not have Ingrid’s Class Skills, but I’ve got some skills.

Look, we might be idiots, but we aren’t exactly going to let our friend solo a dungeon without some backup.

The next couple of hours are rather boring. Between her Bestial Senses ability and the pets, I have to give her a significant amount of space just so that she doesn’t know I’m here. Add in the fact that I need to be far enough away that the System doesn’t hurt her experience gain too much and I end up having a really uneventful stroll through the woods. Even so, the occasional extra-large explosion, tree breaking, or scream carries back to me. Thankfully, with Ali floating alongside Lana, I get running commentary to keep me entertained.

“Ooooh, that’s an amazing suplex, John, just makes those legs really defined…

“What a move, sticking her gun in its mouth…

“That kind of language from a woman! Who would have thought…

“Two dozen. We might be in trouble here, sports fans. Wait! Is that…? Yes! It’s the Pearsons’ signature move—the Chaos Grenade. It lobs, it flies, it explodes with pink confetti! This might be troublesome for our young hero!

“… by the skin of her teeth. Well, Roland’s teeth, but there you have it. The latest member of the Pearson Prowlers is showing his value already. Much faster than a tall Asian, I’ll say.

“And that’s the Boss. Whoa, he’s big. No worries though, boy-o, she can take him. Well, not her, herself but together, I’m sure…

“And that’s the second summons. Wynn is off to tangle with those other dozen little bastards. Lana’s tossing those grenades like there’s no tomorrow, even with her arm broken. But the smokescreen’s letting our young heroine move to a new location while Roland and Anna double-team the Boss and Howard does mop-up.

“It’s down! Down. The Boss is down and its minions are fleeing.”

When Ali finally gives the all-clear, I find myself sagging against a nearby tree. The Spirit is good at giving a rundown, even if he makes it a little more dramatic than it needs to be. While Lana mops up, I head back to our temporary rest stop. It might seem strange to let her go by herself and then wander along behind her, but I know Lana’s been feeling a little out of place, out-leveled and underpowered. Mikito has years of martial arts training to back her up, Ingrid is a frigging Assassin, and well, I’m me. Lana, until a few months ago, spent most of her time running the foundation and a bunch of businesses in Whitehorse. Even if I think she’s a lot tougher than she believes, especially with her pets in play, she needs to know it. Letting her take out the Boss by herself is a good way for us to reinforce her self-esteem.

Even if it is a bit hard on my heart.

Chapter 4

You would think that clearing a dungeon the Village couldn’t would make them happy. But if I’ve learned one thing about humans, it’s that they’re never happy. Acting as if we should have asked them for their permission to kill monsters is ridiculous, especially when they haven’t been able to clear it. Still, the entire incident soured us on Fort Nelson, and we decided to leave the very next day. Which is why we’re surprised to see Sam waiting in his truck as we head out of our borrowed accommodations.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Sam, admiring the much younger looking gentleman. I mentally approve—gene therapy is probably one of the best deals in town. It not only shaved a quarter century off Sam’s visage, it also probably boosted quite a few of his physical stats. That Sam decided to keep the silver-grey hair actually makes him look more distinguished, I think.

“This isn’t the place for me,” Sam says, looking around the Village, eyes lingering on the few inhabitants who are up at the crack of dawn. “I’m not a fan of swearing binding Oaths to people I don’t know.”

“Sam…” I consider my objection. While I do so, I take the time to review his Status bar.

Samuel K. Turner (Level 29 Technomancer)

HP: 170/170

MP: 540/540

Conditions: None

Very low health, not at all what I’d consider acceptable. On the other hand, his Mana pool is very good, especially for someone at his Level. Add in the fact that he has a rather rare Basic Skill, which lets him manipulate technology—mostly for his own use right now, but supposedly for others eventually—and he could be a pretty decent back-of-the-line supporter.

In the end, I decide to let him come for two reasons. Firstly, Sam’s got the willingness to fight—something that, even if one has the Skills, can be lacking—and secondly, it’s his life. I’m not here to dictate what he does.

“Fine,” I answer and watch Sam relax slightly.

He slides into his truck a moment later, with Ingrid taking rearguard on her bike. Mikito and I lead the way over the bridge that straddles the town. South, down to Prince George, it is. Hopefully our reception there is a lot less chilly.

It’s eight hundred kilometers on the highway to Prince George. Even with the destruction caused by the change and the lack of maintenance, the highways are still the fastest way to travel. No one from Fort Nelson has successfully made contact with those down south though, since the 97 swings close to the Northern Rocky Mountains Provincial Park. The damn System seems to consider every provincial park and place of beauty the perfect place to put a high Level zone. At the closest point to the provincial park, the highway sits at nearly Level 50. Definitely too high for the people in Fort Nelson, and even a threat for us if we were moving alone.

That’s why, by general consensus, we’re taking things slow and sending the puppies ahead to herd some monsters for Sam to play with. I’ve even kindly let him ride Sabre so that he doesn’t have to struggle in and out of the truck while killing them. For all the consideration we’ve given him, you’d think he’d be more grateful.

“Help me!” Sam shouts as he lies on the ground, holding the mutated bear off his face through sheer desperation.

“Oh, come on, it’s only a Level 15,” I call back.

“Two nights of cooking says he’s going to get below 50%,” Ingrid offers.

“Bah! Three nights and 30% of his health,” Ali counters.

“You guys are insane!” Sam screams. He finally levers a hand free, pushing the beam pistol against the bear’s side, and opens fire.

The bear takes the shots, chomping down hard on Sam’s shoulder and making his hand spasm open.

“Hey! Stop that,” I say as I glare at Ali. “No betting on my behalf. It’s not as if you’re doing the cooking if you lose. But we’ll take that bet.”

“John…” Lana says, looking at Ingrid and me. “I don’t think she’s been a good influence on you.”

“You wanted me to lighten up…”

“Exactly. Lighten. Not indulge in dark humor,” Lana says, shaking her head.

“I note you aren’t doing anything to help either,” I say.

Sam screams and I glance at his health, doing some quick math. He can take one more hit before I have to heal him. Of course, if I do, his experience gains drop, since the System will count it as help, which kind of defeats the purpose of all this. As it stands, he’s getting reduced experience as it is. Still, I don’t want him to die either. I pay a little more attention, pre-casting a portion of the Healing spell and holding it in abeyance.

Mikito is dancing with another bear to the side, using her fists rather than her polearm to strike the monster. She’s even got a few light cuts across her face, courtesy of her practicing dodging by the millimeter. We pulled the pair to us a short while ago and Sam learned a major lesson about being a support fighter—don’t let the monsters get close.

Sam jerks his head aside enough to dodge the next bite and pulls the trigger of his recovered pistol a few more times. Flesh sizzles and the bear finally has enough, falling and flattening the poor Technomancer. Before we can help, Howard has pulled the body off Sam and settled down to snack. I release my spell the moment I can actually see Sam, watching as he heals all the damage in seconds.

“I didn’t say this wasn’t necessary,” Lana says, rubbing the back of her neck. “Just, you know, a bit rude.”

“A lot rude!” Sam snaps, kicking the bear corpse after he loots it.

Howard growls at Sam before returning to eating the bear, and Roland joins him after a second. Surprisingly, Howard doesn’t object. Now that Sam’s done, Mikito put down her bear too and lets Shadow and Anna take their turn.

“You complain, but you’re getting better,” I say, looking the man over. “Though seriously, you couldn’t have bought an armored suit or something?”

“I didn’t expect to be fighting!” Sam snaps, checking the charge on his pistol and swapping out the Mana battery. “I fix cars and weapons!”

“And you’re wandering around the wilderness. At least buy yourself some decent offensive Spells, will you? Perhaps a few to restrict movement. It’ll keep you alive longer,” I recommend.

Sam growls at me again, stomping back to Sabre and the beam rifle that was discarded during the fight.

Incidents like that pretty much make up the next few weeks. Of course, once the zone levels started creeping up too high, we stopped playing around. Well, until we hit the Level 50 zone, then we hunkered down and did some real grinding.

I ended up lending Sam Sabre in her transformed form during that period, and I had to admit, I was a bit jealous. With his abilities, Sam could use it just as well as I could with my Skills and Neural Link, interfacing directly with the controls to play ranged damage dealer. He even managed to eke out a higher efficiency rate on the Mana engine and linked his beam rifle directly with the PAV so that he could keep shooting without switching Mana batteries.

We spent over a day and a half just off the highway in the Level 50 zone, drawing monsters to us and killing them. Once we finally ran out of space for storing the loot and Sam Leveled up to 32, we called it a day and got moving.

Our high spirits got shut down fast once we hit the next village. Stuck so close to a high Level zone with no Shop and the nearest settlement too far to walk to, there were no survivors. Nor were there any in the next village. Or the next.

For all the joking and ribbing, this was the reality of our existence—less than ten percent of humanity had survived the transition. Entire communities had been wiped out. Among the survivors, a significant number of the young and elderly were slain. This new world has no space for the weak. Perhaps it might have been different if we had transitioned to a normal System world, but as a Dungeon World, we never had a chance.

We don’t stop or search the settlements. There’s no need. Not with Ali around. And so we drive past empty homes and abandoned vehicles, leaving the past to the past until we reach Fort St. John, a tiny town nearly the same size as Whitehorse. It has no Shop, too small to be considered worth setting up the teleportation link that anchors a Shop to our world. Yet for all their disadvantages, there are survivors. We find a way.

“Ahoy there!” I call.

“Ahoy? Seriously? We going with landlubbers next?” Ali teases, floating beside me as we stare at the fortified apartment complex.

“Perhaps we should have someone less intimidating talk to them?” Sam says.

“You mean Lana.”

“I mean Lana.”

I sigh, noting that there’s still no movement from the apartment complex. If it wasn’t for the barred doors and windows and the dots on the minimap, I’d have thought they were all gone. Thankfully, they haven’t tried to shoot me yet, unlike some others.

“You’re up, Lana,” I say, finally conceding.

The redhead laughs, giving my hand a quick squeeze as she saunters up the driveway. A high Charisma, breathtaking beauty, and actual social skills have to count for something. I hope.

“We don’t mean you any harm. We’re here to offer aid!” Lana calls and waits.

“Can I go in and drag them out yet?” Ingrid’s voice crackles over the radio.

To make us look less threatening, we left her and Mikito with the pets, out of sight around the corner of the block. Roland might be a cuddly and foolish kitty to us, but I’m sure that’s not what most people see.

“No,” Sam snaps.

There’re only a dozen survivors, so I’m sure Ingrid could do it easily enough, but then what? We’re trying to get their cooperation, not turn them into slaves.

“How are you going to help us?” a voice finally calls. It’s young and aggressive, challenging Lana and our stated good intentions. I can sympathize.

“Depends on what you need. We’ve got some weapons, food, and water we can give you if that’s all you’ll accept. But we’d rather help you get somewhere safer,” Lana calls back. We’ve done this conversation a few times before, and nearly always, there’s that caution.

“Safe?” There’s a bitter laugh at that.

Another voice pipes up, this one older. “What do you mean safer?”

“There are safe zones, places where monsters don’t spawn randomly,” Lana states. “If you get to a Shop, you can buy a residence and it blocks spawning inside that house. Whole cities can become a safe zone if enough property is bought. There’s a document, a guide we can share with you.”

There’s silence at her last words, but I can see the dots converging on my minimap.

A couple of minutes later, the older man calls, “Leave the guide and the supplies on the doorstep and then back off. We’ll consider your offer.”

Lana sighs and waves me forward. A few seconds later, the printed-out copy of Smasher’s Guide and a bunch of supplies is on their doorstep. Increased Perception means that I can hear their gasps as I make the paper and boxes of food appear.

After letting them know where we’ll be, we meet up with the rest of the crew and repeat the process at another boarded-up building. We do that for the rest of the day, playing diplomat and good guy. Surprisingly—or not, considering how thin everyone in the group is—one of the groups joins us immediately. All the others are way too wary and paranoid, which seems a little strange. Not that we’re expecting everyone to join us, but the ratio is wrong.

Dinner is held in the middle of the highway, the young man and the quartet of teenagers devouring the food we provide and only flinching slightly when the puppies or Roland move near them. Anna, the lazy fox that she is, is curled up and getting strokes from Ingrid while Sam pokes and prods at the force shields we’ve set up around the impromptu camp. We could have taken a house, but considering that monsters can barge through the walls at any time, this is actually safer. That, and we want to let the human scouts have a clear view of what we are and aren’t doing.

Once dinner is done, I drag a truck back at Sam’s request and we spend the next few hours fixing it up together. I say we, but I was a website hack, so it’s mostly Sam who does the work while I hand him tools and play impromptu jack. I do learn a few things, since Sam is one of those guys who likes to talk while working. Of course, I’m not entirely sure what the point is, since gas-guzzling engines are archaic technology these days.

“Right. Let’s try it,” Sam says after an hour, scooting out from under the vehicle before I lower it.

We pop the hood and he places his hand on the engine, channeling his Skill.

All Tech I See (III)

This Skill allows the Technomancer an intuitive understanding and connection with technology, allowing him to use the technology at will. This Skill also has the ability to attempt to override security features in the affected technology.

Level I effects: +15% bonus to connections with technology, +10% efficiency and productivity (where appropriate)

Level II effects: this Skill will temporarily designate non-System technology as System-enabled with the appropriate bonuses.

Level III effects: Technomancer may designate 3 pieces of technology to be used remotely.

Mana Cost: 20 Mana per minute for active use. Passive use (Level II and III effects) 200 Mana per activation. Duration of 3 hours per activation

I shake my head, staring at the details of Sam’s Class Skill. It’s one hell of a Skill—even better than the Neural Link Skill I purchased—and I’m slightly surprised he’s so willing to share the details. Ever since Sam managed to allocate his third Skill point a few days ago, he’s been able to designate a couple of additional vehicles for use. Unlike a Mechanic’s rebuilding of the vehicle, this is a lot less permanent but a lot faster.

“Sounds good,” I say, listening to the engine. We’ve mostly just swapped out a bunch of starters, pulled a bunch of clogged lines, and made sure the actual gasoline engine works. After that, Sam used some of his other Skills to fix the electronic chips needed to run the truck. It wouldn’t actually work without his Skill, though a real Mechanic with the right tools could probably get it fixed up much easier now. “Next?”

Sam nods, and I walk toward the camp exit, glancing at Mikito as she joins me.

“Something up?” I ask her.

“No. Just too cramped to practice inside,” Mikito says, and I nod in understanding.

“You okay with all this?” I wave my hands around, indicating both the survivors we’re grabbing as well as the destruction.

“Yes,” Mikito answers then pauses, looking at me. “Are you?”

“It’s what we do, isn’t it?” I say. It’s not really something I’ve thought about—just one of those things we can do to help. I mean, why not? It barely takes any real effort, and even if it did, we’re saving lives. How exactly is that a bad thing?

“You seem less angry,” Mikito says.

I blink, considering her words. I prod at my emotions, noting the churning sea of anger that still resides in the pit of my stomach. But it’s more peaceful? Calmer? No typhoon winds, no tsunamis…

“Maybe?” I say hesitatingly. “I’m still angry at times, but it just is, you know? We’re not fighting for our lives as much anymore. And even if things are bad, it’s mostly done and over with. At least, I hope so. How are you doing?”

It’s not an idle question. Mikito has lost more than most. Her husband, dead. Her family, not only separated by a sea but most likely dead too. For a time, I know she wanted to die, but now…

“I exist,” Mikito answers me, offering me a tight smile. “It hurts at times. When I remember. But we do good, and when it is time, perhaps I will meet him again.”

I don’t really know what to say to that, so I offer her a smile and nod. Mikito breaks off soon afterward, walking toward the park we noticed before. I admit, I watch her leave, uncertain exactly what to feel about the conversation we just had. In the end, I push it aside to focus on the work ahead of me.

Late at night, I lie in bed, absently stroking the hair of the sleeping redhead beside me. Lana murmurs softly, nuzzling into my chest before falling back asleep, while I stare at the screen in front of me. Page 273 from A Mathematical Review of Classes, System Skills, and the System. Riveting reading. Really. But I’ve got things to do and people to see.

I quietly extract myself from the tent and make my way to the fire, glancing at the young man seated by it with a makeshift spear on his lap. Young, probably in his early twenties, with that wariness that almost all survivors have. He looks up, his hand clenching slightly on the spear shaft while meeting my eyes with his thousand-yard stare.

“You’re up late,” I say and take a seat next to him.

“So are you,” he replies.

I smile slightly, staring at the kid and wondering when I started calling people half a decade younger than me kids. “Perk of a high Constitution. I don’t really need to sleep much.” Or at all, if I want to push it. But experimentation has shown that the human brain really does like having a bit of downtime.

“You’re strong too,” the kid says, glancing toward the vans and trucks I dragged over. We’d briefly considered a bus but figured a single point of failure was a bad idea.

“Thanks. You’re not bad yourself,” I say, and he twitches, eyes narrowing. “There’s no way you’d survive this long if you didn’t have some decent Levels and strength scores.”

Of course, I don’t tell him that I can see his Status bar above his head too.

Kyle Leeburn (Karateka Level 28)

HP: 340/340

MP: 180/180

Conditions: Exhausted (-10 to all Stats and Regeneration Rates)

“Not good enough,” the kid says, and I clearly hear the regret and self-recrimination.

I glance back at the tent that we designated for him and his friends—all those who are left. He catches me looking and nods slightly. I’m not even sure what the nod means, but I don’t push it.

“Did you read the guide?” I ask to break the silence.

“Yes. Not much new there,” Kyle says. “I do want to know what you intend to do with us.”

“Exactly what we promised. Bring you guys to a safe zone, preferably a city with a Shop. That way you can sell some of your loot and get sorted,” I say. “No ulterior motives.”

“Not as if I can do anything about it if you did, is there?” Kyle says bitterly.

“No, not really,” I agree bluntly.

Kyle looks at me, his eyes shining. “If you lay a hand on them, I’ll kill you. I don’t care how, I will kill you. All of you.”

“Oh god…” Ali says, floating down from where he’s been watching all this. “There’s two of you!”

“Funny,” I tell Ali before looking at the kid and giving him a nod in acknowledgement. “Now, go to sleep.”

“I—”

“You said it yourself. There’s nothing you can do if I want you dead. And anyway, if I had bad intentions, I’d want to get all of you survivors together. Right now, you’d be more useful as bait than anything else.”

I see Kyle twitch at that, but he finally stands and goes into the tent. I can hear him breathing loudly and irregularly, forcing himself to stay awake just in case I decide to attack, but at least I have some peace and quiet. Sort of.

“You’ve got a pretty devious mind there, boy-o,” Ali says, floating cross-legged in front of me.

“Hmmm…?”

“The entire using the kids as bait bit. Cold.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” I say, smiling grimly.

I wait, the darkness deepening until finally, finally the kid succumbs to sleep. That’s when I stand and stretch before walking to the force field and letting myself out. I keep silent, walking through the abandoned, empty streets filled with weeds and unraked leaves till we’re far enough away.

“Tell me about the sixth group.”

“Not much more to tell,” Ali says, floating beside me. “Six fighters in the building, all between Level 30 and 40. Three captives, all mutilated so they can’t run. You were right—they’re probably the reason why everyone is so paranoid and looking worse for wear. Can’t hunt or Level up properly if the non-combatants are easy prey.”

“Weapons? Classes? Skills?”

“One Thief, two Bandits, one Guardian, a Shaman, and a Gunsmith. One of the captives is a Healer too,” Ali replies. “Two System-registered melee weapons. All their guns are System-registered, but it’s mostly human shotguns and rifles as their base.”

“Anything else I should know?” I ask, my voice going colder as I walk toward the little glowing dots in the minimap.

“Don’t make it fast.” Ali’s voice is raw and angry at the last.

I don’t blame him. He’s been stuck watching them the whole day when he’s not with us.

The group has taken over a bank, their resting place underground, where the safe deposit boxes are located. Safe—or at least safer—than a normal building. One entrance to their main resting place, easy to defend against any incursions. Assuming they don’t get really unlucky and a monster spawns in the building itself, they’ve got it good. Of course, they aren’t dumb enough to not have a watch out, but they’ve gotten lazy. Probably been lording it over the groups around here too much. The big fish in the small pond.

I take my time, ghosting up to him when he’s not looking in my direction, crossing through shadows till I’m close enough to make my move. Haste, Thousand Steps, and agility in the hundred-plus range means that I cover the last five feet in the blink of an eye. There’s nothing wrong with the Bandit’s instincts, his head turning toward me, but he’s nowhere near fast enough. My blade sinks into his neck easier than I thought, forcing me to catch the body with my free hand while the detached head drops. The muffled, meaty thud resounds through the marbled floor, and I hold my breath, wondering if it was too much.

Nothing. I breathe a sigh of relief and head over to the staircase, my sword disappearing back to whatever dimension it exists in when I don’t have it summoned. As I near the stairs, I look down, spot the crude attempt of a trip wire, and step over it.

Downstairs is a single corridor and small rooms, sub-divided to allow privacy, before the main safe deposit storage room. From Ali’s descriptions, each of the private rooms is allocated to the leaders, with the remnants forced to stay together. Of course, each of the three leaders keep one of the women to themselves.

I’d considered a few ways of dealing with this, but any fight in close quarters is likely to result in the deaths of the women. That’s one of the reasons I’ve chosen to do this myself. I’ll admit, I also want to save the group some of what I expect to see. As much as we’ve seen and done, as many nightmares as we might have, there’s no need to add any more.

Downstairs, I tread to the opposite side of the waiting room and make sure to hide myself as best as I can before signaling Ali that I’m ready for the second part of the plan.

“Trouble!” Ali shouts from above in a simulated voice.

Never having heard the Bandit speak, I have no idea if Ali’s doing a good enough job, but the roar of gunfire as Ali triggers his weapon is sufficient to drive home his point.

“What is it?” one of the men shouts even as I hear them scrambling inside the rooms.

“They’re attacking us!” Ali calls back.

I have to admit, they’re not complete idiots. Most of them head up, but they leave a guard for the women. Of course, since I didn’t bother to hide the body too much, I only have a minute at most before they realize they’ve been tricked. But that’s more than enough time.

I launch myself forward, crossing the room at a sprint, and tackle the Thief across his body. I hit him like a freight train, his ribs cracking and snapping, even his breath explodes around my ear. I don’t stop moving, bull-rushing him into the nearby wall, concrete shattering around us—I put him mostly through it. As I lean backward, I grip his upper arm, crushing it, and throw him to the floor. For all that, the Thief manages to form a glowing red dagger that plunges into my torso, sinking past the jumpsuit and sending a shard of pain through my mind.

Before he can do it again, I beat aside his hand, looking back at the women and wasting a few precious seconds to cast Soul Shield on all three. The glowing walls of force spring to life around their bodies, protecting them against collateral damage. Of course, the Thief manages to stab me a few more times in the meantime, nearly cutting my throat with one swipe. Painful as it is, it’s not lethal.

Noise from the staircase informs me that I’ll be getting company soon, so I grip the Thief by the neck. Another second and I cross the floor to the staircase, where the Gunslinger is turning, a pair of pistols in his hand. He unloads, uncaring if he hits the Thief I’m using as an impromptu shield. I twist from the hips and heave, taking a pair of bullets in the lower body before the Thief flies through the air, screaming. The Gunslinger is fast, very fast, bouncing up the staircase and crowding his friends to avoid the newly made corpse.

I snarl, another bullet smashing into my helmet and rocking my head back. A thought and the sword is in my hand, Blade Strike throwing a glowing line of red and blue from the blade while Thousand Blades repeats the action with a pair of duplicate weapons. The attacks fly up the stairs, and this time, there is nowhere for them to go. Unlike their attacks, the Soulbound sword I wield has leveled up with me and is backed by a pair of Skills. The difference in damage is like comparing a BB gun and a 9mm.

Screams, shouts, and swearing as the group struggles upward, unloading their shots into my body. I take them all, my body shuddering slightly under the barrage. But I have over 1700 Health Points and a regeneration rate to match it. It’d be a lie to say I could stand here and take it all day long, but I can for the few seconds that it takes them to reach the top of the stairs and slam the door shut.

Then I use Blink Step, fixing the point of my arrival by using Ali’s viewpoint, and appear behind the group. I kill the Shaman first, who’s busy readying a series of Spells to slow, poison, and kill me. It only takes a single focused strike to kill him. Stupid magic users with their miniscule health.

The Bandit is next, cutting upward with a real sword that glows green with energy. Cleave or Bash or Power Strike or an equivalent Skill. Putting everything he has into the attack. I twist, catching the cut with the sword I’ve materialised in my other hand, surprising him. Even so, the strength of the blow throws me backward, my feet leaving the floor for a second.

The Guardian makes his move next, rushing and grappling my arm. A quick twist as he shouts, “Disarm,” and then he’s got my sword, the blade forced from my hand by the Skill. I skip backward, breaking away before he can attack me, even as the Bandit steps up and the Gunslinger shifts to get a line of sight on me.

They come for me, the Guardian—guarding what, his rancid desires?—leading the way. He swings my borrowed sword, intent on ending me. Too bad for him it’s a Soulbound weapon and I dismiss it with a thought, then I let him run into the others I conjure. I don’t stop, can’t stop, as I dance past him to show the Bandit what happens when you pair Cleave, a Soulbound weapon, and nearly a hundred points of strength together. He takes three hits before he finally flops to the floor, dead. After that, mopping up the Gunslinger is a cinch.

It’s only when I’m standing in the middle of the bank, covered in blood and guts, my pulse slowing and the rage that ate away at my reason dissipating, that my brain kicks in and lists all the problems I’ve got. Starting with how I’m going to explain this to everyone.

“You really shouldn’t hog all the fun,” Ingrid calls from the doorway she leans against, cleaning her nails with a dagger.

I roll my eyes, knowing she’s doing that for effect. Of course, I don’t tell her it does look as cool as she thinks it does.

“What are you doing here?” I flick my gaze upward to my minimap and blink, seeing more dots slowly coming in.

“You really need to work on your poker face,” Ingrid says, eyes dancing with amusement. “And you’re about as subtle as a hammer. We all figured you were keeping something to yourself.”

“More like a tank rolling down the street.” Lana walks up with the puppies beside her. On a nearby rooftop, Roland is perched, watching over the proceedings. “So what’s in there?”

I frown, glancing down and then back at them. Another reason I chose to do this was to save them from the sights and smells below. The memories…

“Three women. Mutilated and kept by them.” I gesture at the bodies and watch as the ladies straighten, tension going through their bodies.

“Okay. Ingrid and I will go down. You, clean this up,” Lana says brusquely, striding forward, trailed by Ingrid.

“Stuck with clean up. Again,” I mutter before casting Clean on myself and trying to figure out what to do.

In the end, I go with the easy option and toss the bodies into storage. I’ll find a cliff to discard them from later. The blood is easy enough to mop up, using stolen clothing to push it around. Rather than storing them, I keep the Gunslinger’s pistols out, reloaded and cleaned, as well as a guard’s shotgun. And then I wait.

It takes them over an hour to return, the women washed and Cleaned, in new clothes and looking much healthier. Each of them is still missing the lower portion of a leg, but with Lana’s and Ingrid’s help, they’re able to ascend the building. Once I make it clear they’re for them, the ladies grab the pistols and shotgun I’ve left out, though Lana stops one of the ladies. She glares at Lana, her lip curling until another lady pulls on her arm. I watch the byplay, frowning slightly, but say nothing as I get a series of cold shoulders.

Stupid. Stupid old John for not putting the pieces together. The last thing they’d want is a male presence right now. Even if it’s one that saved them.

When we finally get back to the camp where Mikito has been keeping watch, Kyle is woken by the commotion. His jaw drops slightly when he sees one of the girls, and he rushes over to her. She flinches, moving away from his touch, which makes him pause, a flash of pain and self-recrimination flowing across his face. The kid manages to hide it, hovering around the girls and doing the best he can to help. Soon enough, the women are inside the group’s tent, asleep and watched over.

Lana walks over to where I’ve taken post, watching over the surroundings. I know other groups are out there, waiting and watching, trying to glean our intentions. Hopefully this helps.

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Lana says.

“What?”

“The guns,” Lana replies then gestures to the tent. “Not a shrink, but pretty sure one of them has Stockholm Syndrome.”

Oh… I blink, staring at the tent. I understand the concept—that hostages, forced into close confines with their captors, actually come to side with them. I’m not exactly sure the reasons for this, beyond the fact that humans are weird, but I’d wager their recent experiences could do that. “She dangerous?”

“To us?” Lana snorts. “Maybe if Mikito lent her her weapon and we promised not to move for a few minutes. But still…”

“Sorry, thought they’d like some semblance of security,” I say, explaining my reasoning.

Lana nods, accepting my explanation. “Now, are you going to stop doing that shit?”

“Huh?” I blink, staring at her. “Oh. You mean hiding the group?”

“Exactly. And doing it by yourself. We’re not shrinking violets here, you know,” Lana says.

“Shrinking violets?”

“It’s a saying. We’re not demure ladies of the night,” Lana says.

I pause, waiting.

“Okay, that wasn’t… you know what I mean.”

“I do.” I sigh. “Sorry. Just after the last time…”

“The mountain man incident?”

“Yeah.” I sigh again. “But you’re right. I need to learn to talk to you guys. It’s just… hard.”

Lana shrugs. “Try, John. Try very hard. Because we can’t be a team if you don’t talk to us. And we’re getting pretty damn tired of this.”

We turn together to look at Kyle, who is seated at the fire and staring at the tent with the look of a puppy that has been put out. I debate asking for details. Why it happened. When it happened. How it could be let to continue. But in the end, I leave it alone.

The past doesn’t matter. Not here. What is, is. We can move on or drown in the pain.

It takes us the better part of a week to convince the majority of the survivors to trust us and join our little convoy. To get their trust, we do everything from duels to quests to a night of drinking. We scare more than a few groups by showing up on their doorsteps even when they move, but in the end, some still won’t come. As the convoy finally moves out, Lana and Sam in the lead, I find myself staring at the trucks and chuckling.

“Fifty for your thoughts,” Ingrid says beside me.

“I thought it was a penny.”

Ingrid smiles, pulling out a bill and offering it to me. I stare at the fifty-dollar note, the plastic looking almost pristine even after all this time.

“Penny. Fifty dollars. Hell, I got an envelope of it somewhere,” Ingrid says. “You want it?”

“Yeah… no,” I say, shaking my head. So strange to think that we chased these pieces of paper – well plastic now - for all our lives and now she can’t even give it away. An illusion, shattered by the System. “I was thinking I should get a pipe and play a song.”

“The pied piper?” Ingrid sweeps her gaze over the refugees, some of them driving beat-up old trucks whose only advantage is their lack of technology. “Wasn’t he the bad guy?”

“Depends on what he did with the children after,” I say.

At least in the version I read, they never did say what happened. I stare at the string of vehicles, thinking of the journey ahead.

Chapter 5

I sigh as I trace the map of the highway, scribbled pre-System population numbers along each of the cities. We’d been in Dawson Creek for three days now, our search parties spread out and pulling whatever survivors they could from the scattered small towns back to our temporary base of operations. We set up here because the highway split from this point, giving us the best access to the smaller communities along those arteries of civilization.

To the east is Grand Prairie, with a population of around sixty thousand, and much farther along the highway is the city of Edmonton. To the west and south, we hit Prince George, which had roughly the same population as Grand Prairie, and eventually Kamloops. The problem is, with the way the highways worked and the Rockies in between, I wasn’t entirely sure we could get across the Rockies if we went east and entered Alberta. Technically we’d be traversing a portion of the mountain range that made up the Rockies if we went west, but it was significantly flatter. Which probably meant that the zones would be lower. I had a bad feeling that that wasn’t the case with the southern Rockies, where Calgary was. Certainly if the System continued its usual routine, Banff and its surroundings would be murderous.

However, on a practical note, the populations of Edmonton and Calgary were significantly higher than what we’d find in the numerous smaller cities that made up British Columbia. That is, until you hit Vancouver, which had more people in its greater metropolitan area than Alberta’s two main cities. In the end, of course, the numbers came up roughly the same. Give or take a few hundred thousand. Before the System.

“And you can’t get anything else?” I ask Ali for the hundredth time.

“No. I’ve mined the sources I have access to. Anything more, and we’ve got to hit a Shop,” Ali says, his arms crossed.

I stare at the map again, knowing that the decision of where to go needs to be made soon. “We got to get these people to a Shop soon.”

That’s step one. But realistically, the difference in distance between Grand Prairie and Prince George is minor. I hate playing the pied piper, dragging people from place to place, keeping them alive while they stare at us and our Classes, Skills, and equipment with obvious envy. Or in some cases, reverence, which is almost worse.

East or west. The choice might seem easy, but either way we go, we’ll be leaving people behind, people we’re choosing not to help. There’s no way to save everyone, but what kind of people would we be if we didn’t try?

It’s not purely altruistic, of course. The more humans there are, the higher our chances of actually controlling our own destiny. People are weird, strange, and selfish creatures, but in the end, we’re stronger together than alone. For all our fantasies about being the Lone Ranger, we forget that even he had a companion. I might be an introvert by nature, but I understand that people are necessary. There’s no way I could check out all the various towns by myself, no way to clear all the dungeons—heck, no way to even build the equipment I need. People are what make a society strong.

For all that, sometimes the burden of choice is left to a few. We’ve talked about it, weighed the pros and cons together, determined the various options available. In the end though, a decision has to be made and someone has to bear the burden. Better for it to be me, alone, than the group.

And if I have to bear the burden, I might as well go where I want to.

“Thanks,” Sam says from where he works on his truck while I watch the convoy roll down the highway.

Lana and her pets are ranging out front with the scouts and Ali, sweeping monsters clear ahead of the group and mapping potential problems. We actually found a pair of hunters, one with a Scout and another with a Ranger Class, who are pretty useful. Their ability to Map and share this information backward has improved our movement speed. In fact, it shouldn’t take more than a day to get to Prince George, if we decide to push it.

“What for?” I say to Sam, watching as a Mechanic swaps out some spark plugs in an attempt to start up the truck.

“Heading west,” Sam says.

I recall that Sam has family there and find myself nodding. Not everyone wants, or has the funds, to buy the information on their families. Sometimes, false hope is better than nothing.

“Not needed. It wasn’t really part of the consideration,” I say.

My words makes Sam look at me, dark eyes tight before he laughs. “You are a strange one. All right then. Why are we going to Vancouver?”

“I want to see the ocean again,” I say with a smile.

My words make Sam blink. With a forced laugh, he ducks his head back under the hood to get the truck started. I’d chide him for not getting it ready before now, but he’s been working all night getting as many vehicles working as possible.

“You going to just stand there?” Sam grouses.

I chuckle, turning my attention to him fully. This is going to be a long trip.

No wall. That’s the first thing that comes to mind when we roll up to the city. Instead, across the Fraser River are watchtowers, blockades made of twisted metal and concrete to slow down assaults. In the distance, I note the other bridge is destroyed, its debris lying abandoned in the water while more watchtowers dot the surroundings. Most are automated, with only a few manned. Once again, I’m impressed. These guys are on the ball, the reception party having received us nearly a hundred kilometers out. For all their caution and making us wait and verifying details about the group, they’ve also been very courteous.

You have entered a Safe Zone (The Town of Prince George)

Mana flows in this area have been stabilized. No monster spawning will occur within boundaries.

This Safe Zone includes:

Town of Prince George City Center

The Shop

Armory

More…

Our escorts guide us through the blockades and the watchtowers without a word, the reception party taking care of the refugees and allocating them empty houses and apartments. The refugees are grateful and happy as a small crowd of humans gathers around to greet and speak with those who arrive. There are even a few embraces and tears as those once thought lost are found again.

As the refugees split up, we get escorted in deeper by our guards. I let my eyes roam over the guards, watching the way they move, fascinated by the green-blue variations of color on their scales and the way the frills on their heads flap and shift as they speak to one another. As I watch them, I can’t help but note the guards have a certain edge I’ve come to associate with those of us who live on the pointy end of the stick.

Much like Whitehorse, Prince George had been purchased by an alien species, a Clan of Khminnie. By the time they purchased it, six months into the System change, the population had shrunk significantly. Now, nearly half of the population is made of the Khminnie, the lizards owning and running all the important shops and services with humans relegated to being second-class citizens.

Still, the humans here are happy for the most part, at least according to Ali. Living as a second-class citizen might not be ideal, but it is living. It’s easy to say you’d never give up a little freedom for safety when you’re behind a computer, resting in a warm home with a full stomach. It’s another when you’ve spent every day of a year fearing for your life.

Soon enough, we’re waved into a house. Inside, a massive eight-foot-tall Khminnie sprawls on the floor, casually eating strips of raw meat while he listens to a young human lady playing the cello. I flick my glance over the two, noting the lady’s Musician Class before I lock on the Clan Head.

Vrymina Ollimar (Level 39 Goldtooth Hunter)

Title: Clan Head of the Frost Claws

HP: 3840/3840

MP: 780/780

Conditions: None

Damn. That’s a ton of Health Points. I’ve seen monsters with higher, but never a fighter. Of course, I can’t read the stats for some of those I’ve met, but it’s still impressive. That’s a Constitution of nearly 384, unless he has a Skill or two that enhances it. No doubt that’s no Basic Class but an Advanced one.

“Greetings, Redeemer,” Vrymina says, sitting up when we come in. He stares at me for a second before he twists his head in an angular direction, almost as if he’s offering me his neck.

Unconsciously, I mimic the motion before his gaze shifts to Lana, Mikito, and Sam. Ingrid’s ghosting around town, not willing to trust them yet.

“Greetings, Clan Head,” I say, bowing to him. “This is my party.”

I quickly introduce everyone, watching as the pleasantries complete. Once again, I’m thankful that the language downloads the System sells include a series of basic courtesies and customs from the language purchased. Thankfully, general Galactic custom is that one must abide by the rules of the world that you currently visit.

Which makes certain worlds less popular. The Wiblox are golem-like creatures who swap minor body parts upon meeting a new individual, each body part imprinted with their own aura. Visitors are expected to lop off their own minor limbs when visiting, which obviously doesn’t work well for most races.

“Tell me, is your party open to taking on a small request from us?” the Clan Head says, getting around to why he invited us to visit him. Not that we were going to turn down the Clan Head after adding a few hundred refugees to his population.

“Uhh…” I glance back toward my friends. The plan had been to stop, Shop, and hop. After all, if the Town is settled, it certainly doesn’t need us.

“It’s a small matter, and one that we can certainly make worth your while,” Vrymina says, leaning forward.

“Well, it can’t hurt to look,” I say, curious now.

Quest Received

Collect 150 Lumar Hide Pieces

Reward: 20,000 Credits, improved relations with Frost Claws

Accept Quest (Y/N)

“I’m guessing those are System-registered skins?” I send to Ali when I see the notification.

“Got it in one, boy-o. ‘Course we could get the bodies skinned too,” Ali says, and I nod.

With a little prodding, I get a full description of the target beast, including their average Level of 48. The Lumar are quadpedal creatures with wide mouths, serrated teeth, and tiny ears, with antenna instead of noses and a high resistance to damage due to their scales. Since we get between four to seven pieces of hide from each monster and they work in herds, it’s not an impossible task.

“I recall seeing many strong warriors in the Frost Claw clan on our way here…” I say leadingly, curious as to why he’d offer us this quest.

“They are. However, we have great need for many things. In a month, my clan will be taking part in a large gathering and we must bring many gifts. These hides were rare, found only in one other world before your world’s introduction to the System. After being transported here though, these beasts have flourished and are now more populous than in the areas we have access to on their original world. Bringing these hides to my people will bring us great prestige,” Vrymina explains unabashedly.

While the hides might initially be in great demand, once they start flooding the market, the price is likely going to drop too. Still, that was a problem for someone else. We’ve got a decent quest.

“May I have a word with my friends?” I ask and, after getting an easy agreement, pull the group aside. It doesn’t take long before I come back with our answer. “We accept. If you’ll excuse us, Clan Head…”

“You will not stay to feast?”

“No. Perhaps once we are done,” I answer, bowing slightly to the lazing reptile-man.

Outside, Mikito turns to me and informs me of the decision the group has come to without my input. “Two groups. Lana, Sam, and Ingrid. Me and you.”

“Not three?”

“No. Sam needs more levels and experience first,” Mikito says with a shrug. “And I don’t have the carrying capacity.”

“Right.” I nod slowly. With Lana’s pets, they can cover a lot more ground and even carry some of the carcasses on the puppies if desired. “Ali, which way?”

“North and west. We’ll be heading into the forest around there,” Ali replies, flicking his hand to send a map. Within it is a quick display of monsters that we had come across, as well other information about recent Lumar sightings. Most of it was second-hand information, of course, but it was enough for us.

In bike mode, Mikito’s PAV looked similar to mine. Sleek, modern lines, inflatable tires which could—and usually did—convert to anti-gravity plates. She had even gone with the austere black paint job. In power-armored mode though, the differences were significant. Sleeker and less armored, hers was also surprisingly more responsive than Sabre. She’d sacrificed armor and strength for greater levels of agility, allowing the mecha to supplement her combat style. Mikito had also sacrificed most of her long-range weapon options, instead using mobile, surface-level shields for added protection. On top of that, an ephemeral outline of ghostly armor shrouds the mecha, her Class Skill activated.

I marvel at the way the woman moves, dancing through the herd of Lumar with her naginata, the blade slicing and dicing. Each movement opens a new cut along a creature’s hide, her petite figure moving so fast the Lumar never manage to catch up with her. We’d lucked out and found a herd of eleven, nearly double the normal size, grazing at a waterhole. The moment we spotted them, Mikito rushed into the group to take them on, leaving me to deal with the ugly brown-assed monster in front of me.

Lumar Alpha (Level 64)

HP: 1973/2080

MP: 430/430

Condition: Annoyed

I’ve just unloaded the Inlin’s full load of projectiles into its body and watched them bounce off, doing little but bruise it. I don’t need Ali to know that the Alpha probably has a physical damage resistance Skill of some sort. As the Inlin reloads, I trigger the sonic pulser, curious to see if it will have any effect.

Enraging your opponent is an effect, right?

Dancing out of the way, I snarl and cut at the monster, watching my blade slice into its hide. It spins quickly on its four feet, grey hide flaring and gaining a purple sheen. I don’t have time to pay attention though, as a trio of Lumar break away from the group that have been attempting to attack Mikito and rush me, drawn by the Alpha’s call.

I jump, triggering the anti-gravity plates for a second to aid my gravity-defying leap, and launch some of my mini-missiles at them. They fly down, sticky insta-cement stored inside the missiles spraying out and solidifying around the monsters, hampering their movement as it sets. While moving backward, I trigger my other Skills, sending multiple blade slashes at the trapped group. Blood sprays, flesh parts, and bone shows under the onslaught of Blade Strikes, the blue crescents of force damaging the trio.

Then gravity asserts itself. I never make it all the way down; the Alpha having estimated where I would land charged my falling form. It slams into me, sending me spinning through the air. Sabre’s shield flares, its integrity beleagured as I spin through the air and tear apart a couple of trees.

When I finally get back on my feet, the Alpha is halfway to me. I raise the Inlin, unloading the weapon once more even as I run to the right. The Alpha snarls, eyes narrowing as it realizes I’m not targeting it but its trapped comrades. Unlike the Alpha, the rest of the Lumar aren’t that tough and the projectiles punch into their mangled flesh. A part of me notes that we’re not likely going to get any additional hide pieces from those mangled bodies.

After that, it’s a matter of kiting the Alpha, using Blade Strikes whenever I get far enough away, and dodging otherwise. Tough and powerful as it is, without the help of its friends, it can’t box me in. It only surprises me twice more—the first being the stored kinetic attack it uses to rip apart Sabre’s and my Soul Shield, and the second when it temporarily summons the spirits of its fallen comrades. Luckily, it pulled that trick when it was close to death and its friends disappeared when we focused our attacks on the Alpha.

“That… was interesting,” I said, gesturing to where the spirits were.

“Yes.” Mikito tugs her naginata out of the skull of the Alpha, glowering at the figure and staring at her mangled arm armor. “You don’t mind I jumped in, do you?”

“Har. No, you do more damage than I do,” I say frankly. “There’s a new armor-piercing attack, isn’t there?”

“Yes.” Mikito pauses before continuing. “You’ve been slacking off in the fighting recently.”

“Eh. You guys need the experience and well…” At Mikito’s prompting, I continue. “I’ve been thinking about the nature of experience. Ever wonder about what experience actually is?”

“No.”

I stare at the young lady and sigh. Of course she didn’t. Mikito seems quite happy to take the world as it is, beating up monsters and Leveling rather than probing into the details of the System. Truth be told, she’s probably had more important things to deal with. Most people are like her, especially since the Fool’s Quest is something only idiots like me feel the need to pursue. “Don’t worry about it then.”

“No, tell me.”

“Okay. So what is experience? We get it by killing monsters, completing quests, and in some cases, fulfilling our Class pre-requisites. But what is it?” I say, then pause. “There’re a few leading theories in the books I’m reading.

“Firstly, the stress theory. ‘Experience’ could be shorthand for the changes our bodies undergo when we’re stressed—so the higher the stress level, the higher the chance our body has to accept changes created by the System. There are numerous theories about why—nanomachines that need to burrow deeper or intrinsic Mana alterations by the System are just a couple—but it helps explain why in a disparate Level group, the lower Level individuals receive more experience than the higher Level ones. But in the same encounter, without the higher-Level individual, the lower Levels would get even more experience. More stress, right?”

Mikito nods, frowning. “And quests?”

“That’s where it breaks down a bit. After all, we’ve completed the quest, why would we get experience? Some people say it’s actually our experience already, just stored up during the process of completing the quest and given out at once. Others say it might actually be the quest giver’s experience—the nanobots or Mana or whatever, accumulated by the individual but stored offsite to be distributed later. It’d explain why quests really only come from higher-level individuals or via quest boards,” I say. “The second theory that I personally like is the Mana siphon theory.”

Mikito nods, having looted the bodies and started walking out of the clearing, forcing me to follow as we hunt for more monsters.

“Well, experience in this theory is just the System rewarding us for being good Mana siphons. The more Mana we use—say, in a fight—the more experience we get. The more likely we’ll use Mana—and survive to do it—the more experience we get, which gets us Levels to use it more. Of course, it also encourages us to not fight stupidly hard monsters and die or pick on creatures we can beat by flicking our fingers,” I say. “This theory relies on the System wanting us to use Mana, but…”

“You like it,” Mikito states. “But why sit back?”

“Sam and Lana need more levels—so whether it’s more stress or more Mana use, me helping doesn’t add to their experience. I’ve also got Ali tracking my experience gains recently while I don’t fight and just practice my Spells and Skills. I wanted to see which, if any, made sense and how different it was compared to the books I’ve been reading. Did you know that you gain Mana on a regular basis even if you aren’t fighting? Not a lot, but it’s a non-zero amount.”

“No. But why are you doing all this?”

“Well, most of the experiments were run on stable, non-Dungeon planets. I figured if I can get a series of baselines, we could run the numbers backward using some of the formulas presented and debunk them or potentially improve on a few.” When Mikito just continues to give me a blank stare, I add, “If I can do that, I can publish a paper in the System with my findings. I might even make a few Credits.”

Mikito stares at me for a long moment before she turns her mecha away, walking off without a word. I can almost hear the word “Baka,” even if she doesn’t say it. Okay, fine. My hobbies might be a little weird, but I’m trying to find something a little more productive than being a combat junkie.

Chapter 6

Finishing the quest took a few days of hunting, more of the time spent actually locating the damn monsters than fighting. What was that saying? Hours of waiting and a few minutes of heart-pounding terror? Either way, the Clan Head was suitably thankful and approved the quest completion immediately once we got back. He even waived the charges on the butchering, which boosted our Credits a bit.

Since I had no current needs in the Shop, I decided to save my Credits, though Sam took the opportunity to go shopping. He refused to show us what he bought though, muttering about it “not being ready.” The most I could get was that instead of buying completed pieces, he elected to put together his equipment himself.

Other than a few grateful refugees who slowed us down when we left, leaving the alien-owned town was pretty simple. Not surprisingly, there’s a significant drop in the number of people who follow us. Most of those who come have family or friends they desperately need to meet.

The drive down to Kamloops was long and boring. Since most of the settlements near Prince George had been cleared of survivors, we had no reason to stop and instead journeyed south directly. It wasn’t until we hit 100 Mile House that we found signs of any living being, and in this case, it was a small and entirely unfriendly group of humans. Deciding that we’d prefer not to damage our equipment, we left the gun-happy group to their own devices and swung around the survivors to head to Kamloops.

Late spring was in bloom all around us as we drove to the city, flowers waving gently and alternately perfuming and poisoning the air. As we traveled, we noted the shifting zone levels, some dipping as low as the twenties while other times spiking up to the fifties. Forested mountains surrounded us while hungry bears and other hibernating animals prowled the roadways, occasionally attempting a human-sized snack.

The evolution into a Dungeon World had brought some significant changes to our world. The purple-and-pink forested mountain, the field of poisonous flowers, and the dryad that danced through the trees, tempting us, were just the biggest outliers. Pine and oak now combined with silverkennel and unnzwek trees while squirrels battled imps for nuts and survival.

Sadly, outside of those lone survivors at 100 Mile House, we found no others. Of course, considering it was technically only a few hours’ drive between 100 Mile House and Kamloops, it could be that they’d made their way in. It was something I think we all preferred to believe.

Hopefully, that’s what happened and not something more sinister. Unfortunately, sinister might just be the case, especially with the group sitting on what looks like a tank at the Thompson River crossing, waiting for us.

“Good day,” I greet the group as we roll in slowly.

“Who are you?” one of the group calls. He’s got four arms, two on either side, and an orange, ruddy face, his body covered in a silver bodysuit-armor combo.

“Adventurers from the north,” I call back, smiling widely. I could say visitors or travelers, but Adventurers has a nice ring to it and carries specific connotations in this new world.

“Registered?” Four Arms says.

Crap. Bluff called.

“No,” I call back, smiling widely. “No guild.”

“No problem, we’re always looking for Adventurers,” Four Arms says and waves us forward. “We’ll just need to escort you in. Also, you know about our entrance fee?”

“No. What is it?”

“Just five thousand Credits per person.”

I cough, staring at the man. Five thousand Credits is insane! “That is insane, right?”

“Yup. That’s called a shakedown, boy-o.”

“John?” Lana asks, glancing dismissively at the group.

Ever since Ali upgraded the last time, he’s been able to share the Status information with the party, allowing Lana and group to see their info if he wants to. It still takes a bit of an effort, so he only does that when he expects a fight, like now.

“Chill. We’re here to play nice,” I mutter softly.

That gets a snort from Ingrid.

“It’s okay if you don’t have it. We’ve got some very reasonable loan agreements,” Four Arms continues, smiling widely. “Why don’t we escort you in?”

“Sure,” I agree immediately.

These guys all have Levels in the thirties and forties at the Basic Level, which makes them not much more difficult than the monsters we killed. Admittedly, they’re augmented by technology, but I still can’t see them being a major problem.

Dropping my voice, I ask the group, “How come they’re so confident? We out-Level them by a lot.”

“That’d be me,” Ingrid says, her voice cackling over the radio. “Upgraded one of my Skills and I can now push false information out instead of just hiding it. Since we’re grouped, I dropped all our levels by a bit. Well, everyone but yours, John.”

I grunt, nodding. Fair enough. My System level looks weird anyway at 37. Since there’s no Basic Class attached to it and my Class is rare enough that most wouldn’t know of it—at least not out here at a glance—I basically read as significantly weaker than I am.

The group surrounds us the moment we cross the bridge, “escorting” us to town with the tank at the back of the procession. On our left, the Thompson River feeds into Kamloops Lake, running alongside us all the way in. Abandoned resorts, warehouses, and residences dot the land we drive by. As we pass the golf course, I tilt my head to the side, staring toward where the glowing dot of an established dungeon flashes on my map. The group around us says nothing, so I follow suit, tagging and sending the information to the party. Something to look into when we have time.

On the drive in, I cudgel my brain for information on the town. I’ve driven by a few times, mostly on the way to a provincial park for weekend hiking. Kamloops was mostly a mining and forestry town, from what I recall, with a decent trade in tourists during the summer. There was a major rail line and an airport, with the 5, 97, and the Trans-Canada highways all connecting in it. Oh, and it had a university too.

As we finally approach the city after swinging away from the lake for a bit, I recall a few other facts. Most importantly, Kamloops is a split city—nearly two-thirds of the city lies across the river in the northwest, connected by a bridge. The northeast, which is also split by the meeting of another river, doesn’t really have much. The city center itself is on this side though, which makes me wonder if they consolidated at all.

You have entered a Safe Zone (The Town of Kamloops)

Mana flows in this area have been forcefully stabilized. No monster spawning will occur within boundaries.

This Safe Zone includes:

Town of Kamloops City Center

The Shop

11 Farming Centers

More…

Finally, we’re officially in the town boundaries. A quick review of the map information shows that the “town” is actually only everything on this side, the other portion of the town abandoned. It makes sense to do this; after all, it makes hitting the land requirements to create a town easier.

“Looks like they paid to specify the town boundaries,” Ali sends to me, staring at the information. His fingers waggle and he stares at more information before grunting. “That’s why. These guys do have the money. They’re part of the Thirteen Moon Sect. Cartel? Gang? You get my meaning, right, boy-o?”

“You’re saying that the owners of Kamloops—the Thirteen Moon Sect—are rich and ruthless?” I reply to Ali out loud, letting the party into our conversation over the radios.

“Got it in one. Nasty little group, known more for their criminal activities than their governance—but they are a government. Damn it…” Ali falls silent. Since he doesn’t have a radio, he can only talk to me or out loud.

I understand his annoyance. Now that they know we don’t have a Guild backing us, we’re in an exposed position. Guilds in the Galactic Council are the equivalent of companies in our old world, if you’d accept the use of a loose metaphor. Big enough Guilds are like multinational corporations, often powerful enough to bully smaller countries or groups. In this case, the Sect is probably the equivalent of a small country. Due to a law passed a few thousand years ago, Guilds aren’t allowed to own towns and villages, a necessary step to ensure they don’t get too powerful.

“Boss, Henri’s got a bad, bad feeling about this place,” Sam’s voice cackles over the radio.

It takes me only a moment to recall who Henri is—Henrietta Poskart, a Seer with Class Skills that dealt with “seeing” things, whether in the present or future.

“No shit,” Lana says. “On the left, one hundred twenty meters.”

I glance over and spot the group of humans walking along the road, carrying the carcass of a furred and barbed creature on their shoulders. They are dirty, disheveled, and malnourished—which is saying something in a world with a Clean spell and Mana nourishment. Behind them, a Dwarf walks with a whip, cracking it across a back when he thinks they’re slowing down. Over the radio, I hear the hiss of exhaled breath.

“Serfs.”

“Serfs,” I say, repeating Ali as he provides further information. “They’ve been bought by the Dwarf under an indentured contract for two hundred years.”

“Two hundred years!” Lana splutters.

“Don’t forget, gene therapy and the System have increased our lifespan a lot,” Ingrid says. “How long, we’re still not certain, but a few hundred sounds just about right.”

“Sounds like slavery to me,” Sam says angrily.

“Ali says to keep calm. We can’t afford to take them on. They might be smaller as a group than the Duchess, but they’re still a government. They’re spread out across multiple worlds,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice calm and soothing. I stare at the map, quickly resorting the data as I look for information about the Sect in the city.

One mid-Level Advanced Class and three others in the low teens Advanced Classes make up the major punching power of the Sect in the city. Two of the low-Level Advanced Classes are near the mid-Level. The third is at what I’m assuming is the butchering yard or mess hall, from the way the dots congregate and move around in that area. After that, we have another dozen in the Level 30s and a few in the 40s of the Basic Class with nearly a score in the 20s. Quite a few, though at a glance, only two-thirds of them are combat Classers.

It takes me a moment to figure out why. Most of the humans have Levels in the twenties and thirties, and the vast majority aren’t combat Classes. The highest non-party human is a Level 37 Marksman, from what I can see, though there might be a few more out of the city right now. With that kind of Level disparity, they’d only need the top group to keep everyone else in check. In the end, the numbers present in Kamloops don’t matter. It’s their overall strength that is a concern.

“We just going to sit here and let them do this?” Sam growls as we drive through the deserted streets. Whatever you have to say about them, the Sect has done well at clearing the streets of broken down automobiles and other refuse of pre-System technology.

“What do you want us to do? Kill them all? Then what? We might be able to leave and escape their revenge, but what about everyone else?” Ingrid says bitingly. “Ali’s right. Stay out of it. Anything we do is going to make it worse.”

“This doesn’t sit right with me,” Sam says.

“Nor for us. But we’ll hold back for now,” Lana says softly, something unreadable in her voice.

“Will you look at that, you humans can learn,” Ali says wryly. Still, I hear the tinge of bitterness in his voice. After all, Ali’s presence as my Companion is due to a similar contract, as I understand it. He won’t explain it in detail though, even when I’ve pushed him.

“Button up, people, we’re here,” I say as we finally come to a stop.

Unlike Roxley’s ostentatious silver skyscraper, Kamloops’s city center building is a grey, cinder block government building situated near the center of the new Town. Ugly and boring, without a trace of soul.

Mikito and I stride through the corridors to meet the titular owner of the city—or is it administrator?—escorted by a trio of guards including Four Arms. The rest of the party is outside, keeping watch over the vehicles and the survivors, the pets spread out around the group and chewing on a snack. The crunch and crack of thigh-sized bones ripple through the coms, a not-so-subtle warning about what the pets could do if released.

Seated behind an oak desk, a slim, nearly cadaverous humanoid-avian creature bobs its head as we enter. No lips, just a beak that chirps loudly, translated a second later through speakers set across its throat. Behind him are his bodyguards, the pair of low-Level Advanced Classes, their arms crossed as they glower at me. One’s a black-skinned orc, a Hakarta derivative of some form. The other looks similar to Four Arms behind us, except he’s bigger and sports six arms.

“Greetings, Adventurers. I understand you are lacking in funds for the entry fee?” the avian says when my gaze finally comes back to rest on him.

“It’s a little steep,” I say, coming to a rest position in front of the avian. I’d sit, but there’s no chair on this side of the desk. I take a moment and scan his status bar.

Bimmox (Level 36 Sect Sub-Chief)

HP: 1080/1080

MP: 2430/2430

Conditions: None

“That’s not a combat class, is it?” I send to Ali and get a confirmation immediately.

Advanced Class, but non-combat. On the other hand, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own tricks up his sleeve. After all, there’s no reason why he couldn’t have bought combat Class Skills in the Shop. In fact, I’d almost guarantee he has. It does mean, however, that there are only two specialized combat Classers in town and both are right across from us.

“Surely a group as well-equipped as you can afford it,” Bimmox screeches before the robotic voice translates a moment later.

“Not for all our people,” I say, curious to see where he’s going with this.

“Ah, those are not chattel for sale?” Bimmox says.

“And if they were?”

“We could negotiate. Though their Classes are common and their Levels low. We could not offer more than a few thousand Credits per person. The cost of upgrading them to a useful Level, well, you understand,” Bimmox says.

“I see.” I exhale, staring at the monster. I push down the flash of revulsion, forcing peace and tranquility into my mind by sheer willpower. “We won’t be selling them. We’ll just keep moving on.”

“Well, there’s a problem with that, you see. You’ve already entered my Town and have yet to pay us,” Bimmox says.

Behind me, I sense the trio of guards spreading out.

“John, we’ve got more people surrounding the vehicles,” Lana’s voice comes over the radio.

I mentally adjust the radio settings, letting them hear my side of the conversation as well as Bimmox’s. “Well, Bimmox, what exactly are you saying?”

“That we will get our entry fee, one way or the other,” Bimmox says.

“We’ve got thirteen survivors and my group, so that’s ninety thousand Credits in total? How do we do this?” I say, my voice calm. I hear a slight gasp over the radio, too soft for me to make out who it is. I understand though—it’s a hell of a lot of Credits.

“Ssss…” Bimmox hisses and stares at me. “Unfortunate, but each entrant must pay for their own entry fee. Unless they are Serfs of another.”

“I see,” I continue to say calmly. “And if they were?”

“I’d ask to see the contracts of course. Though I should add that falsifying such documentation is a crime.” Bimmox blinks, eyelids closing from the front to back in a thoroughly alien manner.

“I think if I brought out such documentation, I’d find that there’s another law I’d have to deal with, no?”

“What can I say? Laws are laws,” Bimmox hisses after that, its body moving forward and backward. After a moment, I realize it’s the monster’s equivalent of laughter.

“Perhaps you can send these laws to me. My Companion can check them over to ensure we comply with them all.”

“Ah… that is impossible. Only the Administrators may see such information,” Bimmox says again, rocking back and forth.

“Sounds like he’s taking you for a ride,” Lana says over the comms. “We can pay it on our side, but the survivors…”

“Why don’t we cut the bullshit?” I say to Bimmox, my smile widening, the walls of peace and calm that surround my mind cracking. “Give me your bottom line.”

“Bottom line?” Bimmox looks puzzled for a second before clarity returns. “Ah, a colloquialism. We just want everyone to comply with the laws. If the individuals behind you are unable to do so, we can offer a loan of the five thousand Credits with appropriate interest rates.”

“I’m assuming we won’t be allowed to leave once we take the loan,” I say and get a nod from Bimmox. “You’re not giving us a lot of choice here.”

“The law is the law,” Bimmox replies.

“Don’t do this.”

“Are you threatening us? Just because your party managed to clear a few dungeons and receive some Credits to purchase equipment means little. You’re still weak,” Four Arms says behind me.

I turn my head slightly and glance at Mikito, who has her helmet down. The black-and-silver reflection from her helmet’s visor stares back at me impassively, offering nothing.

“Well, human, are you paying the fee?” Bimmox says, continuing to rock back and forth, obviously amused and reveling in his power.

I grin at him, my eyes going cold as the anger I’ve been pushing aside rushes in. I tried. I really did.

“Oh hell, here we go again,” Ali says.

The fireball ripples around their shield, spiking the temperature by hundreds of degrees in seconds. I see the shield flickering even as the aliens behind me shout in anger. Mikito shifts, her naginata spinning and lashing out at those behind us even as her ghost armor flickers into existence, taking a portion of the blast damage. My own exposed skin dries out, scorching and cracking, my body cooking.

Bimmox hisses and cackles, his translator not translating whatever he said. Probably good tactics since its likely orders. Long, clawed fingers dance across empty air, sending out an alert. His bodyguards have a gun and a crossbow leveled at me but do not shoot, waiting for the shield to fall. I’ve already shouted my warning to the rest of the party, trusting that the group can handle themselves. Sabre’s on automated defense mode, transformed and attacking, while Sam’s taken control of Mikito’s PAV.

My sword and the conjoined blades stab into the shield, punching a hole with ease, but the shield refuses to fall. I channel a Blade Strike, twisting with my hips to cut downward even as the attack feeds directly into the shield. The shield flickers as my Mana drops with the Skill, finally freeing my blades. Another twist and Cleave, the blades shattering the shield when they finally connect. A red dot behind me disappears as Mikito continues taking on all three Basic combat Classers at the same time.

The moment the shield falls, Bimmox hits me with a spell, the red beam throwing me through the door and down the corridor. Pain, as it cuts into my torso, halves my health in seconds. The bodyguards open fire, both of their shots missing my fast retreating body. The crossbow bolt tears into the side of one their friends who accidentally sidestepped into its path.

“Is that all?” Bimmox screeches, the automated translation carrying some of the mocking tone in his voice. “You people are too—”

“Weak?” I ask, standing.

I toss up a Soul Shield and Greater Regeneration, stalking forward. The bodyguards have already shifted to target Mikito, Six Arms dropping his crossbow to wade in with short swords while the other waits for an opening. Realizing I’m still up and moving, the other bodyguard swings his weapon to target me.

“How? You should be dead!” Bimmox says.

“We cheat,” I reply.

Bimmox jabs his hand forward again, the spell blasting. I twist out of the way but he’s already shifting the beam to track me, falling for my feint. The Shield flares as the bodyguard’s and Bimmox’s attack caresses its edges.

I Blink Step behind Bimmox, twisting at the hips and knees to let me build up momentum for the cut that enters his waist. He might have a few powerful spells and a decent amount of hit points, but my sword is boosted with Mana Imbue and Cleave as I attack. The first blade cuts into his waist and exits just above the middle of his chest, tearing flesh and cracking ribs. Then the follow-up blades land.

Bimmox screams, his body butchered as his reflexive dodge puts new parts of his body into line with the floating blades that follow my attack. Fingers twist and jerk, clawed tips flashing outward to catch his balance, then Bimmox disappears, leaving my follow-up stab to strike air. His bodyguard elbows me in the face, throwing me backward before bringing his rifle to bear, triggering a series of shots I deal with by cutting his rifle apart.

“Ali!” I shout, knowing we can’t let Bimmox heal. That attack of his would have killed most of my friends.

“I’m on it!” Ali spins in a circle, searching.

The remains of his rifle discarded, the bodyguard charges me with a pair of punch knives in his hands. We clash, spinning and cutting, blood flying and my shield failing. A lunge cuts across my face, tearing my cheek open even as I impale the Hakarta. I leave the sword inside him while calling another to hand and finish lopping off his arm, leaving me staggering back as the bodyguard kicks me away. Mikito appears behind him. Her naginata tears through the air and he drops, neck separated by a surgical cut. As suddenly as that, the fight in the office is over.

“Lana,” I order Mikito, and she dashes out, her Hasted body blurring.

“Behind you. He’s in the city core room,” Ali instructs me.

I spin around, staring at the wall behind me, then cut into it. I trigger Cleave again and again, ignoring the Mana cost as I race to get in as fast as possible. If Kamloops is anything like Whitehorse, the city has some automated defenses that are controlled from the city core. I need to turn them off. In the background, I hear shouts and gasped words as my friends fight outside.

A fist-sized hole finally appears and I look inside, triggering Blink Step the moment I can see within the simple cream-colored room. The Skill carries me within and above the waiting Bimmox, my sword swinging as I release a Blade Strike. The attack catches Bimmox across his shoulders, ripping loose his already injured shoulder and bathing the room in too‑bright red blood. The avian falls, gasping in pain as its lungs no longer work. Even the regeneration potion it’s drunk is unable to keep up with the damage I lay on it as I land, stabbing again and again into the body.

With the alien dead, I grasp the floating city core, the diamond-shaped core fitting easily into my hand. Nothing happens at first, the core taking a moment to check its requirements before it flashes a notification.

Would you like to take control of the Town of Kamloops?

(Y/N)

“Yes,” I snap, mentally willing acknowledgement.

I snarl as the damn core makes me wait again, a small counter appearing in the corner of my eye. Two minutes. I have to sit and wait for two minutes while the damn System lets everyone who is anyone know that I’m trying to take the city.

Congratulations! You are now the owner of the Town of Kamloops

Current Population: 8,785

City Treasury: 11.7 Million Credits

City Mana: 2,309 Mana Points

Taxes: 20% Sales Tax on Shop

Facilities: Shop, City Center, Educational Institution (1), Retail Outlets (15), Butchering Yard (1), Farms (7)

Defenses: Tier IV Defense Shield, Automated Tier IV Defense Turrets (17), 6 Automated Internal Sentries

First Settlement Acquired!

Bonus +10,000 Experience

A moment and the six changed to five automated sentries. It only takes me a moment to realize why. I snarl, raising my hand as I desperately try to figure out how to turn them off.

“Defense targets change. Target all individuals marked as Thirteen Moons,” Ali chants as he floats up to me, fingers waggling in mid-air, then he shoots me a bemused look. “What are you waiting for, boy-o? I got this. Go help the ladies.”

I pause, conflicted. If someone gets in here…

“Go,” Ali snaps.

I nod, trusting the little olive-skinned Spirit, and run out. Even as I run, I see the dots in my minimap flickering as friends, foes, and neutrals die. Time to finish this.

Chapter 7

The rest of the fight was simple enough. The other Advanced Class Sect member disappeared, never engaging us. The other combat Classers never got their balance long enough to attack us as a group, which meant that my team tore through them without stop. It didn’t help them that Ingrid kept assassinating anyone who showed any real leadership qualities. Afterward, it was just a matter of calming the population down. Thankfully, I could leave that to Lana as I walked back into the City Center.

“Hey, the Serfs are going to be fine, right? No death spells or soul chains or anything that will kill them when the Sect is kicked out? Or if it’s commanded?” I ask Ali as I walk in, the thought striking me only now. A cold sweat breaks out on my skin as I wonder if I’ve just condemned a bunch of people to death.

“Not that I can see. It’s possible but rare and expensive. And not effective in the long-term. Kind of like the sterility shots,” Ali says.

I blink as the System quest updates when Ali mentions that. Well, learning that the System wants us alive, or at least not dead immediately, is interesting but not important at this second.

“How deep in the hole are we?” I say to the Spirit, dismissing the System notification.

“Yes, how badly did we step in it?” Ingrid’s voice floats from the corner where shadows gather. Her Skill drops and reveals the young First Nation woman leaning against the wall. She’s attempting to look blasé, but I know her well enough to read the tension.

“Ingrid.” I nod to her and watch the Assassin pull out a nail file to clean her nails of the accumulated blood. For a moment, I wonder why she doesn’t use a Clean spell, but she’s probably doing it on purpose.

“Depends. The Sect isn’t going to take this lying down, and the fact that you missed a few means they’ll probably know sooner rather than later. On the other hand, they don’t have a portal or a communication array set up, so they’re probably not meant to report in that often. My guess is courier check-ins and arranged meetings via the Shop,” Ali says.

I nod, knowing that some Shops even set up specific inter-dimensional meeting rooms to facilitate such transactions. Guilds, for example, all run their own Shop.

“If the survivors really have left, we’ve probably got a few hours before the Earthbound Sect learns of your attack. For the main Sect? Figure a few weeks to a month at most before they know something went wrong,” Ali says.

“And then…?” I extract a piece of chocolate while I wait for the other shoe to drop.

“Then they’ll likely try to take it back. They’re not the talking type, so they’ll come for you. Probably start local first. Kelowna probably, because it’s closer, unless they feel they need more heavy hitters,” Ali says. “If that fails, they’ll pull from Vancouver and Seattle, where they’ve got their real big boys. If all that fails, I wouldn’t be surprised if they pulled from their Galactic forces.”

“Master Classes?” I say, rubbing my chin. I got my ass kicked the last time I fought a high-level Advanced Combat class. I can’t even imagine what a Master Class is like.

“Unlikely,” Ali says. “It’s a steep pyramid and the Sect isn’t exactly, well, that tight knit. It’s not like the Duchess, who can just order her people around. Most of them are relatively independent. Master Classes are a power onto themselves. They’ll likely send some mid-to-Advanced tier Combat classes to deal with you. It’s easier to dig up a few of those than a single Master. I’d be surprised if they even sent a single Master Class to Earth.”

I nod slowly, understanding Ali’s point. My Advanced Class is already over-powered compared to a Basic Class, so a Master Class would be an entirely different existence. While Earth has a few Master Class-worthy locations—a certain dragon comes to mind—I’ve yet to come across many locations that would be worthwhile for them to visit. As I understand it, it’ll take a while for the ambient Mana pools to deepen sufficiently. The fact that my experience gain has slowed down also drives home how hard it is to advance after a certain point. And I’ve got the advantage that I didn’t have to go through all the Basic Class levels.

“Great. Just a couple of Advanced Classes.” Ingrid snorts, shaking her head.

I glance at her, still seeing the bunch of question marks hanging over her head on her Status bar, before smiling slightly. I understand her point though. Mikito is only in the beginning stages of the Advanced Classes, and the rest of the team hasn’t even reached that point yet. If we were to tangle with a bunch of mid-tier Advanced Classes right now, we’d be in real trouble. We only stood a chance today because everyone around here is so low-Leveled that the Sect didn’t bother to send high-Level enforcers.

“Repercussions for the population?” I say, glancing outward. If we leave now, we could probably run. I don’t like it, but if leaving means the people here aren’t killed…

“Varies. Those who fought on your side or helped out? Probably some torture, extended services,” Ali says. “The rest will likely be left alone. Higher overall taxes, maybe some beatings and more pressure applied to drive the point home.”

“Not horrible,” I say, grimacing. “You said they’ve got Kelowna and Vancouver though?”

“Pretty much all of BC. However, they’re focusing their attention on Seattle right now. From the information I’ve garnered, it’s been more troublesome than they expected.”

“Interesting,” I say.

We could go, take everyone up to Prince George, but I’m not entirely sure bringing a ton of people, especially some indentured individuals, would work out as well as we’d like. If the city didn’t take them in, we’d have to drag them over to Edmonton. Hell, I don’t think we have a way to transport this many even if we want to.

“We planning on leaving?” Ingrid says, looking at me.

“No. Maybe. I’m exploring options,” I say, grimacing.

“We’re not leaving,” Ingrid says, her tone flat. “We started this, we’re finishing it. We can’t just go.”

“But…” I want to point out the amount of time we’d waste. How big an opponent we’re facing. And I shut up, because I realize it doesn’t matter. Not to Ingrid. Or me. She’s right. We started this. “Fine. Get the girls to clean up and start looking for help. We’re likely going to have a bunch of visitors in the next few days and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“Of course,” Ingrid says, bowing slightly then fading from view.

“You know, you just called Sam a girl,” Ali teases me. When I just stare at the Spirit, he drops the act and gets serious. “What do you want me to do?”

“They lost because they underestimated us and let us in past their defenses. We can’t let them do that to us. Let’s see what we can do about upgrading the city’s defenses,” I say. With bad guys on the way, defense is the number one priority.

A moment later, Ali pulls information from the city core, sending it directly to me to review.

Tier IV Defense Shield

HP: 15000/15000

HP Regeneration Rate: 250/minute

Automated Tier IV Defense Turrets (17)

Base Damage: 75

Charges: 20/20

4 Automated Internal Sentries (2 damaged)

Core: Tier II Numax Mana Engine

Battery Duration: 6 Hours Standby, 30 Minutes Active

Weapons: Musashi Grisin Mark III Beam Rifle

Interesting. One thing I’ve learned is that while beam rifles are ubiquitous, they’re also generally considered the lowest form of weaponry. Not because they can’t do much damage, but because the amount of damage they can do is limited to their initial construction. Mass manufactured weaponry can do damage, but it isn’t as effective as something individually crafted by a support Class. In contrast, projectile weaponry generally varies in damage, especially if you’re willing and able to pay for the hand-crafted—and Skill-generated—ammunition.

With a flick of my hand, I call up the map of Kamloops again and pull the map out a bit. The town is settled at a crossing of two rivers. The Thompson River runs west to east and is joined by the North Thompson River, dividing the city into three parts. The northwest section is the most expansive and holds a large number of residential houses, the MacArthur Island Park, and the Kamloops Airport. Northeast, there’s little development, mostly industrial and farming locations. Lastly, south of the Thompson River is downtown Kamloops, which the adjusted town boundaries contained.

Another thought and the map flickers, showing the extent of the shield. It covers the entirety of the adjusted town boundaries and reaches almost to the edge of the highway that runs south of the city proper. The seventeen defense turrets are spread equally around the perimeter of the shield wall. The automated sentries are located in the town center. From the looks of it, we managed to damage two of the six sentries from the earlier fight. Oops.

“Hey, why are the turrets on buildings?” I ask Ali.

“Makes it easier to create the safe zone. Building a turret on an existing building adds it to the System, adjusting the Mana flows and property requirements. Also, where else would they put them? In the middle of the road?” Ali says.

I ignore the challenge, looking instead at the defenses. Assuming they intend to send help from either Vancouver or Kelowna, the chances are they’ll be hitting us from the east or west via Highway 1. Of course, once the No. 1 approaches the city from the west, it splits up into smaller feeder roads into the city, which means where they’d actually make an entrance is more difficult to tell. At least in the east, there are fewer feeder roads. On top of all that, they could just ignore the roads entirely, entering the city by walking through buildings or the fields that surround the city.

“How are we going to do this?” I mutter to myself, staring at the information.

The shield limits attackers from just strolling in, but since it’s a single shield, attackers could split and attack across multiple areas, weakening the shield overall before breaching it. Do it well enough and we’d have to split our troops to deal with each attack. If they were smart, they could trick us in splitting our forces and then make an end run to the city center.

“Are we able to split the shield?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” Ali says, looking at me.

“Maybe have the shield powered in different sections? So that if one side fails, the other still stays up?”

“Sure. A few ways of doing that. We can buy multiple shields and set them to generate side-by-side. There are also fragmented shields which basically do the same thing. A lot spaceships use those.”

“Show me.”

Tier II Defense Shield

HP: 15,000

HP Regeneration Rate: 250/minute

Cost: 10.3 Million Credits

Tier III Multi-segment Defense Shield

HP: 10,000 per segment

HP Regeneration Rate: 200/minute

Cost: 25 Million Base Cost + 10 Million per segment

“Expensive,” I exclaim.

“True. But if you’re looking at creating multiple segments, it’s a better option in the long-term,” Ali says.

“Are the shields upgradeable?”

“Yes.”

“Good to know.” Not that we can afford it, but the concern of having our forces split continues to bother me. “Sensors?”

“They’ve got the most basic system,” Ali replies. “No upgrades at all to it. Figure they’ve been relying on their people.”

“Make sense. We don’t have that.”

A thought or two later and new information appears, showing the wide variety of options available for sensor upgrades. I tell the System to hide everything that the town can’t afford. I’m still given too many options, so I hide everything that costs more than ten percent of our current treasury. Even then, there are over a hundred options.

“Arse. Ali…”

“I got you,” Ali says, smirking at my attempts to navigate the town’s Shop options by myself. He waves and the list expands, repopulating everything. Next, the information shrinks again suddenly as he inputs new parameters, the total number shrinking to about fifteen options. He hums, the windows flickering between each quickly.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Sorting. I filtered by companies by Galactic Reputation points first and then by reviews from trusted sources. Got rid of your percent cost too because you won’t find anything worthwhile. Right now, I’m looking for the knock-offs,” Ali says.

“Trying to get rid of them?”

“Goblin’s arse, no! I’m keeping them. No such thing as your patent laws in the System, so companies copy each other’s designs all the time.”

“Then why would anyone make anything new?” I say with a frown. Doesn’t seem to make much sense.

“A few reasons. For Engineers and other craftsmen, you can’t advance and gain as much experience if you stick to copying. Then of course you’ve got the innovators, the ones who just have to make their own thing. Also, most companies are smart enough to ensure that their schematics require a high-Level individual to make the final product or a portion of it, which limits their competition,” Ali explains, the windows finally stopping their flickering. “So what are you looking for?”

“Data about our attackers—visual, audio, and minimap. Preferably far enough out that we can spot them before they arrive, but I’ll settle for stopping hidden attackers,” I say.

“All right then, boy-o. How about these three?” Ali says.

Tier IV Musami Sensor Array

The Musami Sensor Array is the venerable workhorse of the sensor world. Providing an all-round suite of sensors, the Mumsami sensor array will provide real-time data for towns the Galaxy over.

Range: 10km

Sensitivity Rating: 6

Cost: 7.1 Million Credits

Tier III Kangana Nanite Net

Developed from a nanite factory, the nanite net spreads across its designated scanning area, providing real-time, high-accuracy data on all personnel. Additional add-ons available.

Range: 5km

Sensitivity Rating: 8

Cost: 10.1 Million Credits

Tier IV Sahwano Bionetwork Sensor Grid

A bionetwork sensor grid relies on ambient Mana to power its functioning. While less sensitive than other options, the bionetwork grid is more circumspect and has a lower upkeep cost.

Range: Varies. Initially 3km, with growth up to 40km

Sensitivity Rating: 4

Cost: 3 Million Credits

I frown, staring at the information.

I don’t have to wait long before Ali explains. “The first one is your bog-standard tech option. The second is an upgrade of the sensor suite—more expensive obviously and higher Mana cost for set up, but much more likely to punch through Class Skills and other tech-related stealth options. You also have the option of adding additional fun programming to the nanites, including attack options. Lastly, the bionetwork starts close to the city but will grow out the farthest. It’ll take time, but because it uses ambient Mana sources and has a natural camouflage ability, it’s actually much harder for attackers to know they’ve been spotted.”

“Interesting,” I say, staring at the windows once again.

I have to admit, the low cost of the last option is extremely enticing. I run through in my head what I need for the upcoming fight. A way to mark the Sect’s approach, preferably good enough to pick out potential feints or distractions. Then a defense or two to stop them from breaking in immediately, which is why splitting the shield helps. It’d be nice to get a secondary shield layered directly behind the first, but that’s just as expensive as splitting the shield. On top of that, we actually have to deal with the attackers. Which means we’ll want additional firepower if possible. Unfortunately, we just don’t have enough funds in the town, and considering all these upgrades are in the millions of Credits, I can’t even reach into my own pocket to help.

“Any way to know what they’d send at us? Immediately and in the future?” I ask.

“Even the System can’t tell the future,” Ali says with a snort. “However, we could pull information on the people the Sect have on Earth and do some guessing.”

“How expensive would it be?”

“Expensive,” Ali states with a flat tone that says it all.

Buying information from the System is never cheap. Purchasing information that we have no good way of getting always makes it more expensive, and if the Sect is trying to hide that information, it’d be even higher.

“All right, let’s get the bionetwork sensor grid up first. That’ll give us at least some information,” I say, making some quick decisions. Even if it is purchased from the Shop, it’ll still take a few hours for the entire sensor grid to spread. Figure it’ll take the survivors five to six hours to get to Kelowna, another five to six back, and a few hours of talking, and we’ll likely see some company by tomorrow.

“Done.”

I watch Ali drop the sensor grid over the city, the map shifting and the town’s Credit amount dropping. I bite my lips, thinking of what next to do. What was it again? Know yourself, know your enemy, know the terrain? I’ve got Lana and the team figuring out our resources. The enemy we don’t have time to really dig into—not without costing us too much. That leaves the last…

The Sect knows the terrain probably better than we do. If you don’t like the rules, change them. If playing tower defense games ever taught me anything, it’s that defenses need depth. Of course, it’s not a game and towers built out here are likely to get destroyed, but the idea holds merit. So, disposable and wide-ranging.

“Mines,” I say, waving my hands at the map. A few quick adjustments and I’ve marked out the boundaries, blocking off the area just outside the shield.

Once the area is highlighted, Ali pulls up the cost.

High Explosive Mine Field

A standard, high-explosive mine field that mixes anti-personnel and anti-vehicular mines.

Damage: 100 per mine

Cost (for marked area): 2.5 Million (Tier V) / 4.5 Million (Tier IV)

Tier IV Chaos Mine Field

For the customer who likes a surprise, this mine field consists of a series of buried chaos mines which released stored chaos energy. Effects, as always, vary. Chaos Inc. takes no responsibility for the use of this product.

Damage: Varies

Cost (for marked area): 12 Million

Lumen Standard Enchanted Mine Field

A standard enchanted mine field consists of a mixture of basic elemental and basic technological mines, offering a wide mixture of potential attacks to deal with a wide variety of resistances. Our most popular product by far.

Damage: Varies per mine

Cost (for marked area): 5.5 Million (Tier V) / 8.5 Million (Tier IV)

“Expensive.” I grunt, rubbing my temples.

Still, I like the idea of buying something properly the first time, especially when it comes to things that go boom. While this doesn’t give us the ability to directly engage the Sect members as they arrive, not only will we know where they’re coming from, we can dictate where we’ll fight them by limiting their options. Or if they choose to just go through the fields, the condition they’ll be in.

With that thought, I confirm the purchase of the Tier IV standard enchanted mine field, though I make a note to look into adding the Chaos field at a later time. I’ll admit, I’ve always found them quite fun.

“You just going to add a mine field and not tell anyone about it?” Ali says after I’ve made my purchase and the System starts teleporting in the mines.

“Shit…” I blink, waving. I exhale in relief when I realize that no one, luckily, is actually in the creation zone at this moment.

With a thought, I purchase a simple six-foot-high stone wall around the mine field on both sides. My fingers twitch for a second as I consider adding a series of big signs then decide against it. If you’re going to hop a six-foot-high wall, you kind of deserve what you get.

“Ladies, Sam, I just created a mine field outside the city and put a wall around it. Let people know, will you?”

“A minefield?” Lana says, her voice rising at the end. Silence comes down the line, along with some very measured breathing, before she speaks, her voice carefully controlled. “Fine. We’ll let people know. Let us know if you add anything else.”

“Thanks,” I say, relaxing a little.

Ali’s fingers are moving and, a moment later, a new notification window appears in front of my eyes, a small map attached to it.

City Wide Announcement

A new defensive measure has been added to the Town of Kamloops. There is now a mine field outside of town. To enter and exit the town, please use only designated entrance corridors.

“If you want, I can send that out too to everyone,” Ali says. “As the owner, you’ve got the ability to do so. There’re a few other things that you benefit from, including the ability to access and purchase System-generated Shop items without being at the City Core.”

“Huh. Like Roxley’s tax announcements?” I say, recalling the few times Roxley used that ability. “Do it.”

“Done,” Ali says. “So considering you just blew the entire town budget in oh, about an hour, can we get to the fun stuff?”

“Fun stuff?” I frown at Ali, and the little Spirit rolls his eyes.

“Yes. The loot!” Ali says and waves, dumping out the corpses of the Sect members we killed.

I blink, slowly recalling that I do get to loot their bodies. Somehow, it seemed so secondary to everything else. Still, the Spirit has a point and this could easily fall under commandment number two—Know Thy Enemy. And well, loot.

“Well, come on then,” I mutter and walk over to the first body, which in this case is Bimmox.

Unfortunately, unlike System-generated loot, looting bodies is a more grisly task, requiring me to strip the body. Unfortunately, everything that was in Bimmox’s System storage is lost, which means all that’s left is what’s here physically. Well, that and a portion of its Credits.

Omnitron V Portable Shielding Unit

The Ominitron Portable Shielding Unit is rated for zones 10-20s. This high-level utility shielding unit is an omni-directional shielding unit and suitable for non-Combatants.

HP: 250

Regeneration Rate: 50 per hour

Mana Battery: 100% Charge

Integrity: 87%

“Omni-directional?”

“Marketing speak for you can’t shoot through it,” Ali explains.

“Junk pile it is,” I say, dropping it into my System storage. Frankly, I’m surprised the damn bird had something this cheap and useless on him.

Osmaa Integrated Bio-Armor

Osmaa technologies weaves organic carbon-fiber tubes through their award-winning design, providing a class-breaking level of protection against multiple forms of attack.

Armor Rating: Tier III

Additional Resistances: +20% to Lightning, Thermal, Cold, Dark and Light Spells. +25% Resistance to Mental resistances

Integrity: 07%

“Damn,” I swear, running my finger over the bio-armor. Not much left of it unfortunately, and getting it fixed would cost more than buying one. Pity, but that’s what happens when you cut your opponent into pieces.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing else on Bimmox worth looking at—a wand it pulled out is shattered, never even brought into play. And most of its quick injection potions are broken or used. On the other hand, as I use the System to Loot the avian, I have to smile.

12,385 Credits Gained from Bimmox

I stare at the Credit notification. That’s actually very, very good. Obviously, most of their fortune has been taken by the System, but even the small portion I’ve been “gifted” by the System is more than I’d get for killing an equivalent level monster. If I hadn’t destroyed most of his gear, I might have made off even better. Almost makes the case for killing sentients rather than monsters. Even the XP bump is slightly higher, though just barely.

A small part of me is pointing out that I should feel something a little more than annoyed after killing a group of sentients. But it’s a very small part, and it’s mostly doing so in a dispassionate sort of way. Between the fact that I’m mostly emotionally retarded anyway and I’ve bathed in rivers of blood in the last year, killing, even killing sentient creatures, is just another damn day. In the end, I don’t have the emotional energy or the intellectual desire to care. They started it; I finished it.

“Tell me more about the Sect, will you?” I ask Ali as I pull out the discarded crossbow to inspect it. I’ll have to return it to Mikito since she killed its user, but no reason I can’t take a look.

Rudola Tier III Crossbow

When beam rifles do too little damage and projectile weaponry is too noisy, shop Rudola! The Rudola series of projectile weaponry is guaranteed to provide pointed satisfaction!

Base Damage: 15 + Ammunition Damage

Not my kind of thing.

I move over to the bodyguard’s body, stripping and inspecting each piece of equipment.

Punch Daggers

Created by an unknown artisan, these are personally forged punch daggers.

Base Damage: 75

Durability: 87/107

Special Abilities: +15 Piercing Damage

Nice. I add it to my stockpile of weaponry. Not sure what I’ll do with them since none of my friends use that style of fighting. Might make a good gift, especially since they’re personally forged. Maybe I could get an Enchanter to work on them later…

“The Thirteen Moon Sect isn’t a large organization, as I mentioned. They’re on about sixteen planets, spanning just over four solar systems. Within those, they have about seventy-three cities, towns, and settlements under their control, most grouped at the edges of other domains. They’re in conflict with at least twelve major, six minor, and a bunch of trivial powers, including two large Guilds,” Ali says, his eyes darting from side to side as he reads and summarizes the information he’s pulling from the System. “Current strength is just over ten thousand members with a dozen Master and two Legendary Class members. Officially.”

BioMarine Potion of Haste

All BioMarine potions are guaranteed mixed and produced to Galactic Standards. Don’t buy sewage, buy BioMarine!

Effect: Haste

Level: II

Duration: 5 Minutes

“What do you mean officially?” I say, raising an eyebrow at the piece of gear. Huh. Definitely a keeper.

“I’m pulling those numbers from the Galactic equivalent of their corporate website. So, you know, take everything with a grain of salt,” Ali says. “Probably reduce the number of total members and add to the number of higher Level members. No one wants to let everyone know the whole truth after all.”

Tam’s Boots of Titans

These enchanted boots of titans provide boosts to strength and speed, with additional self-cleaning and stitching enchantments layered. Produced by the Cobbler Tam.

Durability: 76/87

Armor Rating: Tier IV

Special Abilities: +11 Strength, +5 Agility, Self-cleaning

“Fair enough,” I say. Pity the boots are constructed for a creature with webbed feet and are about six sizes too wide across my toes. “Anything else?”

“Not much more. They’re the Galactic equivalent of official thugs—they deal with legal slaves, loan sharking, gambling, drugs, smuggling, and the like,” Ali says. “They take control of settlements next to other, more restrictive groups and set up shop and then rake in the Credits. They’re not well-liked, which is why they’re in so many conflicts.”

“Doesn’t seem like their thing to take over a town in a Dungeon World,” I say, frowning. Stripped of its gear, the body’s last piece of clothing dares me to go ahead.

Tervik Ballistic Underwear

Provides ballistic and minor beam protection. Trust only Tervik for the most important jobs!

Armor rating: Tier III

Durability: 63/63

I twitch my hand, dropping the underwear into my inventory to let Ali sell at our next Shopping trip. I blink, the sharp, angular spiky projection with the bulging purplish egg sacs next to it an education in alien biology that I could have done without. The body disappears into my Altered Space, joining its compatriot. Another note brings a slight smile to my face.

7,389 Credits Gained from Bodyguard No.1

“Edge cases. You guys were—are—slightly ahead of schedule. Killing the Envoy and ending up a Dungeon World put a kibosh on a whole lot of plans. Everyone’s scrambling, and the smaller and more nimble groups are the ones coming in first. The big boys… well, they’ll move in when they’re good and ready. That’s the thing about being the ten-ton juggernaut. When you move, nothing stops you,” Ali says.

“Then why would anyone move in at all?”

“Because it can be cheaper to buy someone out than fight. Then there are alliances and deals that can be made and hell, you might just get lucky and not get targeted,” Ali says and waggles his finger, showing me the next piece of good news.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 38 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 6 Free Attributes and 2 Class Skill Points to distribute.

“Okay.” I nod, standing and stretching out of habit. Allocating my attributes can wait. A small organization or not, the Thirteen Moon Sect is still larger than my party and me by orders of magnitude. It’s only because they’re so spread out that we even stand a chance. “Let’s find out how the others are doing.”

“On it, boy-o,” Ali says.

Before we exit the room, Ali spends a few seconds to fix the damaged wall, hiding the center once again. It won’t stop anyone who’s actually serious about getting in, but half the battle with security is making sure you don’t put the fifty-dollar note out for people to take.

Chapter 8

Finding Lana and Sam takes me only a few minutes. Mikito’s at the edges of the town, moving with a group of grey dots that denote neutrals. For now, at least. I’m guessing those are potential helpers, hunters, and others who Mikito’s running through their paces. Levels are easy to tell; combat experience is another thing entirely. Sure, if you’re a fighter Class of some form, most likely your Levels are from combat, but it still doesn’t mean you’re good at it. Ingrid, of course, is nowhere to be found, a ghost in the System as always.

Next to Lana and Sam is another pair: a tall, thin human with a black beard and hooked nose, and a masculine figure with a series of frills across the top of his head and a long hairstyle. I can’t help but think he’s a Klingon, though his entire temperament seems far from the famous TV character. Another case of Mana leakage? Or just a coincidence?

“John,” Sam greets me when I approach and scan the pair.

Torg Lavar (Farmer Level 37)

HP: 470/470

MP: 250/250

Conditions: Serf

Benjamin Asmundur (Architect Level 28)

HP: 210/210

MP: 470/470

Conditions: None

“Torg here is an import by the Sect and the farm overseer,” Lana says, gesturing to the man. He taps the side of his shoulder with two fingers in greeting as Lana speaks. “He’s been in charge of assigning tasks to the Farmers, Herbalists, and Gatherers for the various herbs and other crops they’re developing. Mel, who’s with Mikito right now, and his team kept an eye out for monsters while they worked. Anything gathered was sent off to the Sect for processing though, so we don’t have any high-Level Alchemists or Herbalists in town. The ones we have mostly produced things for internal use.

“Benjamin’s one of the few free humans in the settlement—an Architect. He was telling us how he managed that,” Lana finishes, gesturing to the human.

He smiles at me, eyes twinkling with good humor while he extends his hand. “Call me Ben.” It’s a firm, controlled shake, the kind that doesn’t try to overwhelm you with strength. “I’m an architect. When the System came, I was still at home with my family. I took the Class too, and well, I had—have—the Skill to devote my Mana to ‘purchasing’ a building so I can reconstruct it. I did it for my apartment building and just kind of upgraded it.”

“You can buy buildings outright without the Shop?” I say, my eyes wide. That’s one hell of a gamebreaker in the early part of this year.

“Yes. It requires Mana and I’m still paying off the buildings I bought. Kind of like a loan from the System,” Ben says. “Really messes with my regeneration.”

“You should see it later, John,” Lana says, pointing into the distance with a slight smile. “It’s a damn fortress. It takes up a whole block.”

“Huh.” I rub my nose and kind of wonder why we never had anything like that in Whitehorse. Then again, the non-combatants had a tendency to die fast, so maybe we did and they were just another daisy-pusher. “How’d you keep the monsters out?”

“One of my Class Skills lets me create traps. I turned the first few floors into death traps and funneled them into my entrances. I set it up so that the traps only triggered for enemies, so my people could use the exits easily,” Ben explains. “When the assholes came, they figured it was easier to leave me and my people alone than dig us out. Since then, they’ve been trying to starve us out while levying one tax after another. We’re real happy you guys came.”

“Your people?” I say.

“His fortress is pretty impressive for a Level 28 Architect. There’s just over two hundred people in there, though most are non-combatants. He’s reinforced the walls and entrances and even has the occupants devoting a portion of their Mana regeneration to the building Mana pool. You’d have to blast the entire wall apart at one go and move fast, or else the building would fix itself around it.”

“Those under my protection,” Ben says, shifting to face me and angling his body slightly. I wonder if it’s a conscious decision or not, the way he’s giving me less of a target. With the amount of violence we’ve all seen, it’s sometimes hard to tell who is a fighter and who isn’t. “I gathered as many as I could.”

“Fair enough.” A nagging thought surfaces—a conversation with an acquaintance in college during one of the few parties I ever went to. Red cups and beer in a smoke-filled kitchen. “Architects have to do some city planning too, right?”

“We do,” Ben says, frowning.

“Good,” I say and leave it at that. We’ll worry about building up the town later, once we’ve survived the upcoming fight. On that note… “How are the fighters?”

“Pitiful,” Sam replies, shaking his head. “Beam weapons or modified gunpowder rifles. No one’s above Level 20. Average around the low teens mostly.”

I frown. I knew the zones around the city were low, but they’ve had a whole year to grow. There are higher-Level zones easily within reach, never mind potential Swarms. Though from what Ali has told me, Swarms were more common in Whitehorse due to our high Mana saturation. I guess it’s less of an issue here.

“They took the higher-Level hunters away,” Torg finally speaks up, ducking his head immediately after. He shifts under my regard, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be speaking.

I nod in understanding. No point in making your life more difficult by keeping potential threats around. Still, from the grimace that flashed across Ben’s face, it was probably not something that went down well.

“How about the defenses?” Lana asks, cocking an eyebrow at me.

“Not great. There’s the city shield, but it’s only Tier IV. I’ve got a mine field out there and a sensor array built out now, so we’ll have at least some warning. We could use the sentries, but two of them are damaged.” I look at Sam as I say that and he offers a nod in understanding. “We’ll probably have to deal with the attackers ourselves.”

“I’m assuming we’ll expect them soon?” Lana says, rubbing absently at her arm where a beam attack has scorched the material, turning the dark blue black.

“Yes. Most likely from Kelowna to start.”

“Think they’re that confident?” Lana says, waving her hand around. “We did just kick their ass.”

“Definitely,” Torg says.

“Indubitably,” Ali echoes at the same time. When Lana stares at the little Spirit, he explains. “Ingrid’s ability hid your true Levels and no one survived the attack in the office. Considering the Levels you showed, they probably assumed you launched a sneak attack on them. Without their main fighters, the guards you fought were killed off easily—but that’s easily explained by the PAVs and other equipment. Add on to the fact that the Sect is just that arrogant…”

Torg nods at that.

“And they’ll be sure to strike back immediately,” Ali says. “Problem with ruling with strength is that you always have to be seen to be strong, you know?”

Lana nods slowly, looking toward the east for a second. After a moment more, she speaks up. “We going to take Kelowna then?”

“What?” I blurt, staring at her.

“In for a penny…” Lana meets my eyes. “If we’re going to free them, we might as well do it right. If they’re sending their fighters here, if we beat them, there won’t be much left in the other city.”

“I…” I pause, natural objections falling silent. The plan… well, there was no plan. I just intended to help where I could. However, conquering a few cities was never part of it. Still, Lana is right. If we’re going to do this….

Sam stares at the two of us incredulously while Ben and Torg stay silent, their faces much more neutral. A glance at Ali has him giving me a thumbs-up, and I finally offer Lana a nod.

Lana looks quite satisfied, smiling like the cat that just got cream. “Now, let’s talk about what we’re going to do with the town after we’re done.”

I nod, content to let the lady lead the discussion. Between her experience on the General Council in Whitehorse and the information she’s managed to garner here, Lana’s got a much better idea than I do of what’s going on and what needs to be done.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Learning about the town kept Lana and me focused, and Ben and Torg pulled in various other notables to talk to us through the day. Sam wandered off in about fifteen minutes, helping to settle our refugees and spread the good word among the general populace. I also recall him muttering something about finding a suitable workshop, but I ignored that bit. Mikito continued to put the hunters, all but the few extra guards still watching over the farmers in the northeast, through their paces. And Ingrid—well, who knows where she was.

We did it all in the middle of the street, just standing there and talking to people, letting anyone and everyone who was interested listen in. And there were a lot. People streamed in and out of the crowd that gathered around us, listening, chatting, and pointing as they confirmed the news that the Sect had been kicked out. It took me a bit to realize that Lana had chosen the location on purpose, a not-so-subtle hint that things were changing. I admit, I approved, though I hoped no one expected us to do it all the time. Governance by committee made me roll my eyes.

Ben was, unsurprisingly, quite helpful. As the leader of the only independent group in the town, he knew nearly everyone. His presence by our side, talking congenially, probably helped allay a lot of fears. It was nearly as useful as his knowledge of the town’s resources.

Torg, on the other hand, contributed in a different, if no less useful, way by providing us examples of the way the Sect and other Galactics did things. Whether it was discussions on farming and gathering to zoning or Credit generation, he had ideas and examples from his time on other worlds. It seemed Torg had been bounced around a lot, always moving from settlement to settlement to help start up their latest farmland. The man had a knack for organizing individuals and problem-solving. It was unfortunate that he never actually got his hands dirty farming, keeping his Levels low.

My understanding of the town grew while I expanded my knowledge of the people around us. Late in the evening, when the others had begun to flag, the sensors pinged. I was a bit surprised, having expected them to come tomorrow. But I guess with the longer daylight hours of late spring, it didn’t matter.

“Incoming, boy-o,” Ali interrupts, flashing the map in front of Lana and myself. He taps something and text message notifications go out to the rest of the team.

From the map, I can tell that the group from Kelowna is coming in loud and brassy, not even bothering to hide their presence. Arrogant. Five dots, Levels popping up in short order. They’re headed straight in on the main road, which means they’ll miss the mines but will have to deal with the beam towers. If we let them get that close.

“Time to go,” I say, triggering Sabre to roll closer to me. I swing my foot over the bike even as Lana hops up on one of the puppies.

“Not sure I’m going to be much help here,” Sam’s voice cackles over the radio, and I have to agree. He’s better off where he is, fixing the sentries. Not being a frontline fighter, he’d be a liability if he came right now. While he’s done stellar work during the fights we’ve dragged him into, there’s no point in risking him when we don’t have to.

“Roger,” I say while Lana bids the group goodbye. I add my own belated and almost forgotten goodbye, the group splitting apart with worried expressions. Helmet on, I speak into the radio, giving rapid-fire orders. “Mikito, get the fighters up high. We’ll take them right outside the shield. Tell them to hold fire till we command it. Or we fall.”

I get an acknowledgement from the Samurai before her voice barks commands to others. I tune it out, glancing at Lana, who rides Howard next to me.

“You up for this?” I ask, my eyes roaming her form to assess her state.

Her armor has seen better days, and there’s a tightness to her shoulders I don’t like. But when she turns to me and flashes me a smile, it’s filled with confidence and I recall that this is the same woman who followed me into the Kluane Icefields without a word of complaint. A rush of hormones comes with that memory. That brazen courage even in the face of fear and anxiety was damn sexy. I make a mental note to find some time alone with her at some point. There’s always one thing or another in the way.

“I’ll be fine. You’re going to have to handle at least two of them. Maybe three. Are you up to this?” Lana says, violet eyes crinkling as she stares at me.

“I’ll be fine,” I say, patting my bike. “I’ve got Sabre.”

“You don’t look it,” she says, staring at my face. “You’ve got a weird look on your face.”

“Just disappointed, I guess.” At her cocked eyebrow, I go on. “I spent a lot of money and time planning out potential avenues of attack. Bought new sensor arrays and a minefield, figuring they’d try something smart. Instead, they walk right up to our front door.”

Lana stares at me for a second before snorting in amusement, a smile dancing along her lips. In minutes, Mikito falls in line on her bike, guiding it to flank me. Ingrid’s still gone, but that’s no surprise. She’ll pop up when she’s needed, probably with a blade in someone’s back.

As we pass the watchtowers, the shield shifts, opening long enough to let us out before we pull to a stop. Mikito doesn’t hesitate, transforming her PAV into mecha mode and walking to the side while the puppies spread out, flanking the road and crouching low in the green, uncut grass. Within seconds, Roland has disappeared, its form shifting as it uses an innate Skill to Stealth itself, leaving only Anna beside Lana. The redhead has her shotgun out and a portable shield array set before her feet, ready for trouble.

We don’t have to wait long, the Sect group arriving soon after. They disembark and walk toward us, leaving their hover transport behind. No surprise on that. Replacing vehicles is expensive and since few are actually made for extended combat amongst combat Classes, they break easily.

As they walk closer toward us, I scan the group. The first two are melee fighters. A Level 3 Advanced Class Bladesinger in brown fur wields a pair of swords in each hand, strutting forward on all four legs. Next to him, a sleek, green-scaled Advanced Level 27 Blood Warrior wields a rod and shield. Behind is a faceless Level 47 Elemental Mage in blocky armor and a rock-covered, seven-foot-tall Advanced Level 12 Rock Thrower. They’re guarding their Level 41 Stitcher.

“You can stop right there,” I call out when they’re about thirty feet away. Just in case, I check the Soul Shield I’ve added to Lana and the puppies.

“Nice of you to meet us out here,” the Blood Warrior says with a grin, his accent deep East Coast. A part of me tries to pin it down, certain I’ve heard it on TV somewhere. Idle thoughts. “Saves us the trouble of hunting you down.”

“Blah blah blah, random thug posturing.” I shake my head at the anger that crosses their body language. Tightened grips and shifts in positioning are universal, no matter what alien society you come from. “You have one chance to get out of this alive. Take your friends and leave BC now and return all the humans you’ve enslaved.”

There’s a long pause before a hissing, cackling, and grunting series of laughs erupts from the group.

Since they obviously aren’t going to take my generous offer, I follow up with the stick, launching all my high explosive mini-missiles and screaming, “Now!”

The sentry towers open up, lances of red fire striking even before my missiles. A second later, flames erupt from Anna’s body, a tightly wrapped beam of fire pulled from the creature’s aura. Lana opens fire with her shotgun as Mikito rushes the group, her Hasted body covering the ground within seconds.

The beams reach them first, fracturing ineffectively against an invisible shield. The beam turrets cut off after a second. The mini-missiles land next, creating rippling explosions that throw sand and dirt into the air and a pressure wave of force that hammers into us. A second later, the follow-up shots from the towers and the rest of the attacks land, the shield flickering under the assault.

It holds though, long enough for our enemies to take action themselves. Charging forward, the Bladesinger clashes with Mikito, his greater weight spinning her around as she blocks the strike. The pair blur, flashing across the ground perpendicular to us, their forms barely visible. A spell in the shape of a flaming bird rips through the air and slams into the beam towers, bypassing the settlement’s shield, which has dropped to allow the beam towers to fire. The other sentry tower goes down as the Rock Thrower, living up to its name, projects a series of car-sized stone spears.

“Hey. I’m going to have to fix those!” I snap as I open fire with the Inlin mounted on my arm.

The flashing projectiles get cut apart in mid-air by the Blood Warrior. The explosions of the projectiles around him seem to be doing nothing, and even when I shift my target, he’s always there, blocking my attacks.

The puppies move forward the moment their shield drops, but they never reach their prey, the shield popping up within seconds. They howl in anger, battering the invisible protection, but there’s nothing they can do. Behind the shield, their Elemental Mage wavs his hands around, Mana gathering for another spell. The Blood Warrior is outside the shield though, rushing toward us.

“Lana, yours,” I shout over the radio, trusting that she can hold the Blood Warrior.

With a slight mental exertion, I trigger Blink Step, teleporting through time and space into the shield. It’s a gamble, since there’s no guarantee this shield won’t bounce me off. I appear next to the Rock Thrower, the Inlin firing into his side even as I summon my sword into my other hand and cut upward. He’s fast and trained, throwing himself to the side and backward, my attack only managing to lop off part of his foot. Green blood spurts outward, coating Sabre even as the monster rolls away from me in trained reflex. Spikes erupt from the ground, shattering Sabre’s shielding and making it flicker and disappear.

Even as I spin to target the Stitcher, Ingrid makes her appearance finally. Her dagger erupts from his neck, the enchanted weapon, along with her Skills and the surprise attack, cutting through his health and armor. Still, the Stitcher falls to the ground, fingers waggling, and a glow surrounds him. Ingrid’s next attack slows down as it enters the white glow, giving the Stitcher time to twist and roll with the damage.

I don’t have time to pay any further attention since I’ve crossed the ground toward the Mage, weathering the sudden Lightning Bolt it throws at me, the arc of electricity jumping through the air and striking Ingrid and the Stitcher as well. I grunt, hair and teeth on edge, but the bleed through is low and nothing Sabre and I can’t handle. I butcher the Elemental Mage in seconds, even with his momentary teleport away from me. As I attack, spikes of rock slam into Sabre’s armor, but the harassing fire from the Rock Thrower isn’t enough to dissuade my attacks. Personally, I think the Rock Thrower made the wrong decision in focusing on me. As I yank my sword out of the Mage’s corpse, I’m grateful that Mages are so damn squishy.

A particularly large spike knocks me off my feet, alarms flashing as Sabre reports the increasing amount of damage the monster’s attacks are having on me. I roll and bounce back to my feet, ducking to the side as I assess the rest of the battlefield.

Mikito is racing back, the Bladesinger lying still behind her, her PAV scored with damage even through her ghostly armor. A quick review shows she’s down nearly half her health, which is surprising. Roland and Shadow are squaring off against the Blood Warrior and a second, blood covered clone. God damn it. I hate Skills, especially ones that we don’t have access to.

Anna and Howard are caught in blood tendrils, forced to twist and struggle while Lana hacks away with a machete in her left hand, her right hanging limp beside her. Ali floats next to her, keeping watch on the attackers, a small ball of lightning in his hand. It’s a surprising development, one that shows his willingness, if not ability, to do damage.

“Go. I’ve got these guys!” Ingrid snaps at me over the radio as she pulls her dagger out of the Stitcher’s side, which continues to bathe itself in white light.

With a twist of my hand, I toss an insta-cement grenade at the Rock Thrower, holding it in place and buying Ingrid time. Once the grenade has left my hand, I Blink Step toward the Blood Warrior. My attack is anticipated, a pair of tendrils spearing from the blood clone to strike at me the instant I appear. They knock my attack aside, my blades missing the Blood Warrior. With a shiver, the green-skinned humanoid rolls forward, leaving another blood clone to fight me as it engages Roland. I duck and weave as tendrils of blood that acts like acid erupt from the clone and fly through the air as I attempt to cut my way in close to the true body.

Roland howls in pain, the impact of the Blood Warrior’s club tossing the tiger away. Even as Roland spins away, its back feet lash out and claws rend wounds along the Blood Warrior’s shoulder, displaying grey bones beneath green flesh. Even then, the Blood Warrior twists, another clone appearing as he continues to bleed.

“No!” comes a loud, grating shout from behind us.

Then the explosion hits us all, dust and dirt obscuring our vision as we stumble and fall. Even System-enhanced Agility is insufficient to compensate for the force of the explosion. When the cloud finally clears, the Blood Warrior is gone and so is the Rock Thrower and the Stitcher.

“What happened?” I ask, standing and looking around. Sabre’s running diagnostics, nano-armor already fixing itself.

Ingrid limps toward us, quaffing healing potions. I watch as her broken fingers pop back into place, bloody wounds disappear, and her body straightens up as pain goes away. “Rocky triggered a Skill. Blew his body apart when I was about to finally kill that damn healer.”

Ali floats down. “He’s not dead, by the way. Just weakened. His race adds layers of rock and stone as they increase in Level. Blowing up layers of his body destroys his Levels. He must have sacrificed a ton…”

“How did they escape?” I say, frowning. I get the explosion, but we were only knocked down for seconds. Even now, I can’t spot them in my minimap, which is disturbing. While I wouldn’t say we pulled out all the stops, we certainly weren’t holding back. Letting them get away after we’ve shown them a significant chunk of our abilities is not great.

“Localized teleport,” Ali says, grimacing. “Very, very expensive and requires them to have pre-purchased the option in the Shop.”

“Do we know where they went?” I say, letting my gaze track over my team. Between a bunch of health potions and the System’s healing, we’re mostly back to fighting shape, except for the pets. Lana’s feeding some of the most damaged pets health potions, though their enhanced healing is already seeing gaping wounds slowly close.

“No idea, boy-o,” Ali says with a shrug.

I curse silently, discarding the idea of attacking Kelowna now. There’s no way they completely emptied the city of high-level characters just for an assault on us. Add in their local guards and fixed defenses and I’m not looking forward to a direct attack. There’s also no guarantee they don’t have another of those localized teleports saved up, though I’d be surprised if they did. Unfortunately, even I’m not so irresponsible that I’d gamble with the lives of others.

“We’re not going to Kelowna, are we?” Ingrid says, glancing down the road, and I shake my head. “Right then, drinks it is!”

Ingrid flashes me a smile, and I make myself return it. She’s right. We might not have wiped them out, but we weathered the first attack. A success is a success.

Chapter 9

Later that evening—or was it technically morning by now?—we’re mostly alone, seated around heaping plates of food and beer. Even the curious and interested long ago gave up on overhearing anything interesting. Truth be told, after giving everyone who asked brief assurances, we had little more to say. Thankfully, unlike a “real” town, there was little enough in terms of paperwork that I needed to handle—at least, right away. That allowed me and the team to settle down for a few hours.

“But if I upgrade the Ghost Armor again, I’ll add nearly 50% to its hit points,” Mikito says to Lana and Ali, waving a fork to punctuate her point.

“And move away from your main advantages,” Ali stresses. “You’re fast and you hit hard. Better for you to focus on what you’re good at. You’ve got a decent amount of hit points anyway, and can dodge everything else if you pick up Enhanced Reflexes.”

“Except if they use an area effect spell. Can’t dodge those,” Lana points out, shaking her head. “I’m with Mikito. She’s plenty fast as it stands. More defense is a good thing. I’m thinking I should get something too.”

“Feeling a little vulnerable out there?” Ali says with a glance toward her arm.

“Just a little. The boys are great at keeping most people busy, but if Hondo or someone like Ingrid came along…”

“I wouldn’t stab you in the back, Lana. We’re friends. I’d look you in the eyes as I did it,” Ingrid says with a smile, making all of us roll our eyes.

Sam watches our banter, mostly silent, before he taps the table to get our attention. The seriousness on his face colors his next question. “So what now? Are you going to try to attack Kelowna next?”

“Missed our chance,” I say, shaking my head. “If we’d wiped them out, I’d be willing to risk it. Now, there’s no guarantee they won’t hit us when we leave. Better to stay and consolidate our strength here.”

“About that…” Sam says, grimacing and looking around. “You guys. Well, you’re tough. But there’s a lot of concern about what happens if they send more. If you fall…”

“The city doesn’t have much in terms of defense,” I finish for him and sigh.

Sam’s not wrong. The problem is, I’m not entirely sure what we can do about it. Setting up a training program like we did in Whitehorse will benefit the combat Classers, but it takes time. Bumping up Levels by grinding monsters is easy—there’s even a convenient dungeon to run. But real combat experience requires time. Time to make mistakes. Time to repeat those mistakes and learn from them. Until then, we need more than just a couple of easily destroyed sentry towers.

“For that matter, are we staying?” Ingrid says, staring around the table. “I don’t recall there being a discussion before we started all this.”

“Didn’t mind sticking your knife in earlier,” Lana says.

“I’m not saying we should leave. But we’re discussing sitting still and being a target while our enemies gather their forces. Not smart,” Ingrid replies, letting her eyes roam over the group as if she’s testing everyone.

“You suggesting we run?” Lana says softly.

“No. I’m making sure we’re all in,” Ingrid replies.

I cut in, waving in apology. “You’re right. We didn’t discuss this. I’m sorry, I should have…”

I stop because Mikito is smiling and Lana’s laughing softly. Even Ingrid snorts slightly, shaking her head after a moment.

Sam looks between the three before he finally asks, “What?”

“John’s being cute. And idiotic again,” Lana says with a chuckle.

“Baka.” Mikito nods firmly. “We knew you were going to do it.”

“I didn’t,” Ingrid says. “But I should have.”

“What?” I exclaim.

“Boy-o, you’re a bit predictable,” Ali says.

“Oh, come on!”

“You’re very predictable, Redeemer of the Dead,” Ingrid says, naming one of my titles. I twitch, ducking my head slightly, and she smiles again. “As I said, I should have realized it the moment we saw the Serfs. You weren’t ever going to leave this alone. You’re just not good at doing the smart thing.”

“Welcome to Team John,” Lana says, raising her mostly empty pint in mocking salute. “We don’t do the smart thing. Or the right thing. Just the necessary.”

“You’re okay with this?” Ingrid says then shakes her head, chiding herself for wasting words. “Never mind. Of course you are. Mikito, Sam?”

“Where John goes, I go,” Mikito says simply.

Sam pauses, his face obviously conflicted before he finally huffs. “My family is in Vancouver. Where the Sect is. I’d rather go there in force than try to beg my way in.”

Ingrid stares at the group of us before she throws her hands up dramatically. “Gods! How did I end up with a bunch of heroes?”

“Your asshole team got killed,” Ali says bluntly.

Ingrid freezes, all levity drained from her face. For a moment, we can all feel it, the killing intent that rises at Ali’s crass words before Ingrid takes control of herself, dampening it. She stands silently and walks out. It’s only when she’s gone that we dare take our eyes off her.

“Not cool, man,” I say, smacking the Spirit. Of course, my hand goes through him, but it’s the thought that counts.

“That was very much uncalled for,” Lana says. “I’m disappointed in you, Ali.”

“Whatever,” Ali says, though he hunches his shoulders a bit under our combined disapproval. “She’s been bitching about being with us for months now. She was literally telling John to stay a short while ago. It’s time for her to choose her Class or let the System do it.”

I frown slightly at his non-sequitur then realize it’s the Spirit equivalent of shit or get off the pot.

After the silence stretches on for too long, Sam clears his throat, drawing attention back to himself and our original question. “So we’re staying. And you’re the boss of this town. What do you plan to do?”

“Funny you should ask…” I say, leaning forward and taking the change in topic. Rather than join most of the conversations this evening, I’ve been thinking. Planning. Time to get to work.

The next morning, the team splits up to tackle their respective tasks. Sam’s on crafter duty, working with the various crafters to upgrade their talents. His main focus is on the Mechanics in the hope that we can upgrade them enough to build some better defenses and offensive weaponry. Mikito’s still on combat duty, continuing her initial work with the combat Classers yesterday. Lana’s working with Torg and his crew of resource gatherers to account for and divert what they have to the respective Classes in town and the Shop. For once, everyone’s going to get paid.

Lana’s job is probably the most important in the group since I’ve managed to drain the funds for the entire town. Without additional Credits, we can’t upgrade the Town—not without physically upgrading the buildings and roads. At least, I don’t think so. But assumptions just make an ass of u and me, so that’s why I’m seated in the control room with Ali this morning.

“This is a bit ridiculous. It all came in overnight?” I say, staring at the hundreds of open System windows. The vast majority are messages—requests, demands, complaints, suggestions, and even a few threats. They range from issues about education for children to real estate queries, pleas for help with regard to those taken and even noise complaints. Noise complaints!

“Overnight and they keep coming in. The joy of being the owner of a settlement,” Ali says.

“Never knew you could do this. How come I never got Roxley’s message box?” I say, staring at the growing number of windows as Ali populates them one behind the other.

“You just walked in when you wanted to talk to him,” Ali says.

Oh, right. I guess I never did consider there might be other ways of reporting to him. “This only for the owner? Or can we create a system like this for everyone?”

“Anything’s possible. But we don’t have the Credits. I do have a recommendation though.” Ali’s hand twitches.

K’myn Artificial Intelligence Tier III

This specialised AI is designed to take on the administrative processes of new and developing settlements including the legal and bureaucratic processes of the Galactic Council.

Cost: 145,000 Credits

“An AI?” I frown, staring at the information, then tilt my head to the side as I stare at Ali. “Can’t you do this?”

“I’m a Spirit. I deal with magic and spells and the System. I don’t do bureaucratic paperwork. Not unless you want an audit,” Ali says, shaking his head. “Buy it. We can tie it to the town for now so you don’t have to use any processing power in your Neurolink if you’re that worried.”

“What’s the difference in Tiers for an AI anyway? I get guns, but AIs?”

“Sophistication, processing power, and restrictions. Higher tiers have fewer restrictions, better coding, and the ability to utilize more resources. Most are restricted to some extent by what you download them into, which is why I recommend tying it to the town,” Ali said. “In this case, we’re also buying a bunch of knowledge packs so it can hit the ground running.”

“Doesn’t Lana have one?” I say after a moment, recalling that Ali once recommended she purchase an AI.

“She does, but hers is Tier V and geared toward private businesses. The knowledge base is entirely different. You’re going to need her help later if you want this town to run properly, but for now, you need this.”

I pause, staring at the Credits cost. Ever since leaving Whitehorse, Credits have been harder to acquire. Not as many high-level monsters to fight and longer gaps between visiting a Shop meant lower revenue. If I bought it, I’d have just over forty thousand Credits left. Not much at all when you consider a single Class Skill could cost sixty plus. But… needs must.

The moment I make the decision, the System flickers. A moment later, the windows before me shrink and disappear, replaced by another, larger window. Text appears on the window in blocky letters.

“GOOD MORNING, SIR. I AM KIM, YOUR SETTLEMENT ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF SORTING ALL INCOMING MAIL. IF YOU WISH, I WILL REPLY TO ALL TRIVIAL AND MINOR ISSUES WITH STOCK RESPONSES. ALL OTHER ISSUES WILL RECEIVE A RESPONSE REQUESTING PATIENCE UNTIL FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS AND GOALS HAVE BEEN RECEIVED,” the text reads.

“Yeah, that’ll work. Kim,” I say, blinking slightly. An AI named Kim. I can see where he (it?) got its name from, but does that mean every AI purchased from that company calls itself Kim? Or is it just a matter of luck in my case? I shake my head, pushing the thought aside to focus on something more important. “All right, let’s get to work. Process the information on the town. We’ll discuss the parameters of what we need to set later. Let’s talk defenses first though. Those towers went down fast. What can we do?”

“Buy better towers?” Ali says with a shrug.

“They were Tier IV!” I said, frowning.

“Exactly. They’ll handle most monsters up to Level 20. Monsters,” Ali says, shaking his head. “Sentients fight differently from monsters. You know that.”

That was too true. Sentients of the same Level were generally more dangerous than monsters. If that wasn’t the case, it would be impossible for a Level 1 sentient to kill a Level 1 monster. The number varied of course, depending on Class, Skill, and skill, but it was generally taken as a force multiplier of between one and a half to two. So a Level 1 sentient could likely fight up to a Level 2 monster on equal terms, not including equipment. Which meant our defense towers could really only handle Level 15 or so fighters.

“Still, they got destroyed so fast,” I say, grumbling slightly.

“Did you notice the Rock Thrower and Mage were a lot less active afterward? They used some of their best Skills and Mana to one-shot those towers,” Ali says.

“COST OF TIER III BEAM SENTRY TOWERS CURRENTLY GREATER THAN CREDIT RESOURCES.”

“No Gremlin poo. Now, be quiet till you’re called on,” Ali says. “Automated defenses are fine for monsters, but they’re all supplementary, boy-o.”

I nod and wave the Spirit silent, leaning backward into the chair. I swing it back and forth as I think through what I know. The System pushes people, Classes to higher Levels. External items, equipment, tech is all replaceable, but none of it is anywhere as important as the individual. Mostly. There are exceptions—Linked weapons like Mikito’s naginata, my Soulbound sword—can grow. But otherwise, at some point, external equipment has to be discarded. In the end, it’s people that matter. That explains why Roxley focused mostly on walls and shields, leaving the security of the city to his guards. Easier to scale, especially with monster swarms constantly popping up. Unfortunately, I don’t have his house guards to bolster our low-Leveled forces.

Roxley… I huff out a breath, thinking of the swarthy, tall Dark Elf. Damn but I could use his advice right about now. However, the way we left it, I’m not sure asking him would be the best idea. His decision to join the Duchess, after all we did, did not sit well with me. No. Roxley isn’t an option. But that doesn’t mean that some of the others I’ve met might not be of help.

“Ali, let’s get some messages out to some friends,” I say, looking at the Spirit. “And after that, I guess Kim and you should start briefing me about the city properly. Can’t rule it if I don’t understand it, and we might be in for the long haul.”

Hours later, my head’s pounding from all the information fed to me. I wasn’t a business major or a politician or bureaucrat. But somehow, I was supposed to understand all of these things while running the city.

In some cases, the System simplified what would have been significantly more complicated before its introduction. For example, transactions held by the Shop and transactions done by transferring Credits in the System were all tracked automatically. That made taxation simple, as I could tax individual sales and purchases within the town between Classers with a single adjustment in the core. Of course, then you ended up in the long, long discussion about consumption taxes versus income taxes versus… well, whatever. You get the picture.

Right now, Kamloops is mostly a resource economy. Funds are generated from the farms or Gatherers and Hunters selling their loot. Of course, being a Dungeon World, the sheer amount of Mana in the surroundings speeds up growth and increases monster Levels in comparison to other worlds, so being a resource town isn’t a bad thing. However, as most undeveloped countries know, the real money isn’t in selling your resources—it’s in production and development. Turning those resources into Credits. In our case, that’s what Lana and Sam are tasked with jumpstarting. Until then, I have to deal with taking a hit on revenue as we divert sellable material to in-town crafters to Level them up.

Furthermore, that means we have a lot of small transactions happening in the Shop as resource items are sold. The easiest way to generate more revenue would be to charge the tax rate when individuals sell, creating a basic income tax. It might miss a few outliers, but for the vast majority, that’d work.

In Whitehorse, Roxley instituted a flat percentage charge on all transactions in the Shop, which actually impacted production Classes more than anyone else, due to their need to purchase additional products for their needs. That sounds bad at first glance, but it does mean that people are more likely to look into ways of building or developing technologies and secondary resource items in-town rather than purchasing them through the Shop. Which, I’m beginning to understand, is likely what Roxley intended.

The world’s complicated, and only the foolish, ignorant, or those with an agenda would ever say otherwise. There are no simple answers to any of these problems, and even when I pop out to the Shop to get myself a quick, downloaded education, it’s not enough. Because sometimes, the question isn’t what’s best but what you’re trying to do.

Right now, what we need is income and fast. I can’t afford to spend too much time on the long game, which is why I end up keeping a flat five percent tax rate on all transactions in the city. I even extended it to transactions between citizens in the town, ensuring the town gets their fair share. Of course, this was a reduction in the Shop tax rate from the initial twenty percent, so hopefully there aren’t too many complaints. Even though we desperately need funds, I have to think long-term as well, and that means helping the city grow.

Next on our agenda was figuring out expenses. This was much simpler, since most items in the city were linked and run by the System. Of course, you could have the System auto-regenerate and fix all registered buildings and facilities, but one thing I’d realized after reading through the more in-depth menu was that this actually took Mana. Or more specifically, Mana regeneration. Across the city, Mana production and regeneration was actually tied to the amount of space a town controlled. So while Kamloops had managed to establish and even develop a higher percentage of System-integrated buildings, it actually produced less Mana than Whitehorse because of its smaller square footage. Not to mention it was situated at a lower level zone.

Interestingly enough, buildings and the town itself seemed to generate less Mana than I’d expected. Compared to the Mana regeneration of an individual, it was paltry. It was only at this level, where I was looking at the Mana generation of a whole town, that it started showing up at all. With Kim’s help, I could turn off the default allocation of Mana for individual buildings, letting me store up more. For now though, I left it alone since I had no idea what we needed it for.

Outside of Mana expenses, there were Credit expenses. Since we didn’t have to pay for maintenance for the most part—outside of simpler services like cleaning for non-System-upgraded buildings—payroll was the major ongoing expense I could expect. In this case, I actually didn’t have any since I hadn’t hired anyone and everyone previously hired was either a Serf—now freed and let go—or a Sect member who had fled. On the other hand, that meant I’d have to hire again soon. I mentally sacrifice Lana to this task with a smile before finishing the sparse file.

“What’s next?” I say.

“ALLOCATION OF ASSETS.”

I grunt, staring at the dire blue words before nodding. Kim flashes up the list of buildings I currently own after kicking out the Sect.

Commercial: 4 (City Center, Armory, 2 x Workshop)

Residential: 178 Individual Residences, 24 Apartment Buildings

Industrial: 7 Farmland, 3 Alchemical Laboratories

Military: 14 Sentry Towers, 1 Shield Generator, External Minefield, Bionetwork Sensor Grid