As we headed deeper into Oarwin, the patrols of royal guards thinned out. I retraced my steps from the night I fought Thunder Fang. Occasionally, torchlight illuminated pockets amidst the labyrinth-like district, which we avoided, sticking to the shadows.
Viessa tagged along by my side as we walked past what remained of Thunder Fang's headquarters, moving deeper into the district. The silhouettes of tilted, multi-story residences lined both sides of the quiet street.
Karma's Gaze picked up the statuses of random level one occupants, who were peering out through the cracks in their buildings. They were mostly working folks, laborers, miners, and gatherers. I upped Filter to level two as we proceeded several blocks north through the ruined residential district.
“How much further is the river?” Viessa asked.
I sighed. “We’re not really fishing. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. Think of this as exercise or training.”
Viessa stopped in her tracks, fiddling with her masked bandana. “I’m starving, and this mask is really itchy.”
“Well, if we shave your head and cut your ears off, you won’t have to wear that sweaty getup.”
The elf recoiled at my solution. She put her hands on her hips, standing her ground as I kept walking.
This is insufferable.
Before I died, as an eternal loner, I sometimes fantasized about what it would be like for another person to join me on my crusade. Someone to watch my back, help stitch up wounds and enjoy our work. But I never imagined it would be like walking a one-legged dog without a leash.
As I turned the corner, Viessa relented and jogged to catch up. “You were going to leave me?”
“Every choice you make is your own,” I said, brushing her off.
Screams and shouts faintly echoed from a few streets over.
Finally.
“Viessa, stay hidden and watch from afar. I'll give you this signal when it's safe to approach,” I said, holding up a peace sign.
She stifled a yawn. “Can we at least get some fish after your training? I’ve never eaten fish before… But it looked delicious when I saw people grilling it in that big district.”
Is that all she thinks about?
“Do you understand my instructions?”
Nodding, yet displeased by the lack of catering on our excursion, Viessa fell back as I jogged down the alley toward the source of commotion.
Two blocks west, a small band of criminals marched door to door, demanding payments under what I assumed was the threat of violence, judging by their body language and the two unconscious people laying on their porches a few doors up.
I watched from a distance, eyeing their leader.
Target: Coda
Level: 3
Karma: -725
Additional Data: Underling of The Sanguine Syndicate. Age 31. Male. Despises women due to psychological trauma induced by his mother. Loves fried cheese.
Would you like more data? Y/N
The prompt appeared mid-air. I figured this new option was the result of upgrading Karma's Gaze mastery, and selected Y, interested in what kind of data would appear.
Bonus Information: Ability: Surprise Strike. Arrest warrant issued 12 moons ago for extortion and murder. Joined The Sanguine Syndicate at 26. Currently lives in the syndicate's member housing on Veeyar Street.
Surprised by the useful bonus information, I grinned beneath my frigid mask.
Coda wore a cheap set of chain mail and carried a one-handed mace. He led a group of five men, all level threes, onto a rickety porch and tapped his mace against the front door.
“What do you want?” a shaky voice said from inside the house.
“We're collecting your dues,” Coda said.
“We already paid Thunder Fang four days ago. That's all we had. Please go away.”
Coda ran a hand through his messy hazel hair, then slammed his mace into the door, smashing it open.
The woman screamed as he dragged her out of the house and down the steps. “Stupid bitch, we allowed Thunder Fang's operations here.”
Coda threw her into the street as a familiar face appeared in the doorway.
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It was Skurt, the loudmouth we had run into on the beltway earlier. I wasn't sure how he wasn't in jail after I had jammed him up with the royal guards.
“Get your hands off her,” Skurt shouted as he ran outside with a sword in hand.
One scumbag tripped him while another sucker punched him in the face. Skurt toppled over, blood running from his broken nose. A heavy-set goon sat on Skurt's back, forcing him to watch as Coda pulled his mother's hair, whipping her head back.
“It's going to cost extra now that your boy raised a weapon against us.”
“Please, I'm sorry, we're sorry—”
Coda slapped her across the back of her head and pushed her face into a muddy puddle. As the woman bucked beneath his grip, he turned and said, “Teach the boy a lesson. Cut off his arm.”
I sighed.
Boring.
Level threes wouldn't be worth enough experience. Although, watching Skurt get his ass beaten was somewhat satisfying, watching an innocent woman thrash around in a puddle on the verge of drowning was quite unpleasant. I had seen enough.
The clouds above broke open like a dam, unleashing a torrential downpour as I stepped out into the street, slowly approaching as a mere silhouette in the night, about 30 yards away.
Coda saw my looming shadow extend down the street. He let go of the women and she gasped for air as the heavy-set goon held his sword against Skurt's left arm.
“Who goes there?” Coda shouted.
“This freak's wearing a mask,” the heavy goon announced.
Coda raised his mace, rallying his troops as I slowed my advance. “If you haven't noticed, you're outnumbered, fucker. Now tell us who you are before you can't talk.”
“Thunder Fang also had a numbers advantage,” I said, smiling beneath my mask as his goons reconsidered their advance.
“Don't hesitate, the bastard's lying!” Coda shouted, but the subtle twitch in his legs gave away his nervousness.
“Want to see something neat?” I asked.
Invisibility.
“He's gone!” Fatso panicked, spinning around with his sword clutched between frightened fingers.
“Gordon, cast something,” Coda commanded.
The only goon wearing a robe stepped up and said, “Fire Shot!”
A measly fireball flew out of his hand toward my last known location. The ball exploded, momentarily lighting up the street before the heavy downpour extinguished it. But I was already behind them and deactivated Invisibility.
“Boo!” I appeared behind the group of goons and shoved my hand through the back of the unlucky heavy-set man's head, feeling his skull cave in, brain matter sloshing against my palm as I pushed it out through the front of his face.
Desperate screams filled the night as I used Dagger Step, teleporting away into the shadows, leaving Coda and his four associates in an anxious frenzy, having just seen their comrade’s head explode like a smashed pumpkin.
“What the fuck just happened to Edilian?” Gordon cried.
Skurt crawled backward on his bottom, jaw agape, covered in bits of gore from sitting in the splash-zone. His eyes focused on his mother, who was laying in the street with her hands over her head.
Coda fumbled with his mace. “Where'd this bastard go? Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“What if it's really him?” another goon asked. “We need to retreat.”
“Just shut up,” Coda said. “He has to be close.”
A throwing knife whistled through the night until it punctured the neck of the man that so desperately wanted to retreat. He toppled over as I followed-up with a multi-knife volley, blessing two more bad guys with a swift death, reducing their group to Coda and Gordon.
Their fear was palpable. It was an intoxicating effect, the perfect cure for my bruised confidence after sparring with Eamon. I leaned against a gap between buildings, watching as they scrambled in circles.
“I can't see shit in this rain,” Coda blurted out.
Shadow Weave.
Like a puppeteer, I tugged a string of shadows down from the porch. Amongst the chaos, Gordon hardly noticed as it wrapped around his right leg.
“Damn it, retreat,” Coda stumbled away, confused why Gordon wasn't following his order. “What are you doing?”
“God’s help me, I can't move!”
Bound by terror, Coda saw it, the pitch-black thread twirling up Gordon's leg. “What the fuck is happening?”
I snapped the shadow line taut, splitting through his knee and severing his left leg. Gordon dropped like a sack of potatoes and Coda fled, abandoning his mace along with his comrade.
Skurt gathered himself off the wet ground, rushing to his mother's side. For being a punk with 100 negative karma, at least he cared about his elders. I walked toward him, elated by his horrified expression.
He raised his sword with a trembling hand.
+50 XP
+25 Karma
“Lower your weapon,” I said, deepening my voice.
Skurt nervously set it to the side, holding his mother tight. “Who are you? What do you want from us?”
“I'm Justice's instrument. She dragged me here for the purpose of ridding this world of corruption.” I crouched in front of him, tilting my head.
Skurt opened his mouth, words caught in his throat like a chicken wing.
“Speak,” I said, worried the guy was about to shit himself.
His mother said, “Skurty, it's OK. He saved us.”
Skurty? Nice nickname, kid.
Lips quivering, Skurt finally spat it out. “I've heard crazed zealots say stuff like that before.”
I smirked, rainwater streaming down my slick mask. “I may be insane, but I'm no zealot. All I need from you is directions.”
“Directions?”
“How do I get to Veeyar Street?” I asked.
Skurt provided comprehensive directions that included landmarks of note, shortcuts, and a warning. “Stay out of the Eighth Ward in southwest Oarwin. The Slaver's Union controls that strip.”
As I turned around to walk away, Skurt reached his hand out. “Please don't make everything worse for us. When you destroyed Thunder Fang, the syndicate took over everything. Now it's even harder for us to live. They'll retaliate for this.”
I shrugged, looking up at the skies. “After tonight, no gang will enter Oarwin for fear of losing their heads.”
Walking away, I followed a trail of blood that led me to Gordon, who was hopelessly pulling himself up the street. I raised my arm and held up a peace sign.
Within moments, Viessa scurried out from the side of a toppled shed. I pointed at Gordon, unsheathed my dagger, and offered it to the elf. He glanced back over his shoulder and whimpered, crawling faster.
Viessa vehemently shook her head.
“All you have to do is stick the pointy end into his neck,” I said. “Finish him if you want to get stronger.”
Viessa crossed her arms, not budging from her moral high ground.
“Your weakness is a hindrance,” I said, truthfully annoyed.
At this rate, she'd never make it back home alive. Eventually, a stray arrow or an unexpected foe would end her life. She needed to drop the high and mighty act and draw blood. At her current level, the experience she’d gain would be invaluable.
If she won't do this and it later costs her life... It's not my fault.
“I hate humans, and I want to get stronger, but not like this. It's wrong. I promise, I'll carry everything from now on, even your tonfa. I swear I won't complain anymore, either.”
“He's going to bleed out anyway, put him out of his misery.”
“No,” Viessa said, turning her back to me.
I stood over Gordon. He looked up at me with a familiar pleading gaze. It had no effect. I slashed his throat with my stiletto, impressed by how easily it cut through his flesh like a room temp stick of butter.
+5 XP
+5 Karma
