《Broken - There is only Vengeance》 1 - The Hands of Death The System crossed paths with Marcus Grey in both an extremely convenient¡­ and inconvenient¡­ situation. He was driving down the interstate, crossing the great wastelands of western texas, intent on reaching a home he¡¯d just inherited on the coast. He¡¯d quit his job; abandoned his life¡­ and was heading off for a new start. Marcus himself wasn¡¯t anything particularly special; late thirties, reasonably fit but no athlete, dark hair starting to spot with grey. He was twice divorced, no kids; and considered himself lucky that this had happened after the divorce; if his father had passed two years ago, his ex would¡¯ve ended up with half the property value. He had everything he needed for his life in the back of the truck; a bed, a few pieces of furniture, his books, his collection; and had just left the hotel an hour before, cruising down the highway¡­ when the notice appeared over his vision, and he slammed on the brakes; slowing down on the side of the road, not a single other person in sight.
Hello, Marcus Grey, and welcome to the system!
Your world is currently a level 1 zone, and will be steadily increasing as time goes on; certain areas will increase faster than others.
This means that you, as a level zero entity, will slowly grow stronger until you reach level one.
This is both good news, as that it means, once you reach level 5, you will have reached galactic baseline, and be able to choose a class, and/or alter your race.
This is also bad news, as all living things on your world, both plant and animal, will be undergoing the same process.
The System Initiation Committee has chosen eight hundred and four individuals to serve as Chosen. They will be offered a chance to leave your world, gain significant power, and return to help the rest of your species deal with the comic crisis. Should you meet one, they have been given information and assistance to help guide your world through the future awaiting it.
Arm yourself. Prepare your defenses. We will help as best we can, and should you survive to exceed level 5, can expect to no longer suffer the effects of ordinary aging or disease. But while yourself becoming stronger is a good thing; the species you share a world with will mutate greatly as they grow stronger. Use great caution. Survive.
He stared at the blue box for a few minutes, reading it over, carefully¡­ and then looked out at the desert. This¡­ was a particularly harsh, unforgiving place. There wasn¡¯t much life in any given direction he could see, aside from the cacti. He wondered¡­ had everyone seen that? Was he imagining things? There was no-one else to ask¡­ but the next gas station was only twenty miles ahead. He thought for a moment, about the contents of his truck. Did he have anything that he could use to defend himself? A machete. A baseball bat. His great-grandfather¡¯s revolver¡­ well, revolvers, but one had actually been fired during the civil war, and the other was most likely a reproduction. Did he have bullets? Technically, some of the states he was driving through, it was illegal to carry a loaded firearm in the cabin. Which was why the revolvers were unloaded, locked in a box, and secure. Despite this¡­ and despite them being antiques¡­ it might be best to pull them out. Have them ready. He looked both ways on the highway, checking for oncoming cars; nothing. Sand. Cacti. A few old, abandoned buildings from back when this was still part of Mexico¡­and nodded, popping the door, settling his shoes on the concrete¡­ good, solid work-boots. Steel toe, about the best that could be worn if things went bad. The jeans were as good as anything, and the Metallica T-shirt wouldn¡¯t be the best option if some bug suddenly turned giant; but he didn¡¯t carry armor. Who did? He sidled around to the back of the truck, and gave a grunt as he shouldered the mattress over; exposing the lockbox buried beneath some couch cushions, pinned in place by the ropes holding it all down. After a few seconds, he had the box unlocked, and slid both revolvers out, and the sole box of bullets he had¡­ Only to blink, as he settled the revolvers down, and another pair of boxes appeared.
Congratulations! You have touched your first weapon since encountering the System
You have been granted a single boon; this weapon may be upgraded by the system, rendering it unusually durable and effective. Swords will become almost unbreakable, firearms will never jam, and the general damage dealt can be expected to improve. You may retain this boon for one hour, and expend it on a different weapon. Any weapon whatsoever can be upgraded to, at minimum, ¡®Uncommon¡¯, in this way.
Congratulations! You have encountered a ¡®Relic¡¯ item.
¡®Relic¡¯ items are items that have a significant background or history behind them, having been touched by the emotions and souls of many, or been passed down over generations. Storied items vary in quality, but will have unusual effects if upgraded by the system, generally positive. These items will typically be upgraded on their own with sufficient exposure to mana.
He looked at the two revolvers for a moment¡­ and then at the box. This¡­ still seemed a bit silly. He looked at the interstate again, before turning to the revolver that had belonged to his great-grandfather.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°How do I put a boon on an object, or upgrade it?¡± He lifted the weapon¡­ and blinked, as a brief flash of golden light appeared.
Right Hand of Death (Relic) (Legendary) (Bound)
This Legendary Bound revolver was carried and wielded in battle by three generations of the Grey family, in the civil war, the first world war, and the vietnam war. It has never failed the man who wielded it, and has now been upgraded, becoming invested with power by the system. As a legendary weapon, it has four augmentations. As a bound weapon, when wielded by anyone outside the Grey family it acts as an ordinary revolver.
Unbreakable: This weapon is virtually impossible to break, and cannot jam or misfire. Spiritual Ammunition: When fired without a bullet in the cylinder, this weapon will consume a tiny amount of ambient mana, or if there is no ambient mana, that of the user, to generate a temporary magical bullet. Empowered: When firing normal bullets, this weapon augments their force of impact significantly, increasing damage by 200% and adding this adjustment to any enchanted bullets. Bane: This weapon can be named bane of a particular species or organization that it has been used to kill at least ten members of. This can only be reset once per month, and continues until changed. Available options at present are(Confederates, Nazis, Viet-Cong, Humans, Horses, Snakes). As a Bane weapon, it will deal additional damage, penetrate armor more effectively, and cause wounds which are substantially more difficult to heal.
At first, it was a touch of irritation that it had triggered without him wanting it to¡­ but then he started reading what it showed. ¡°....If¡­ If it can be set to Bane of humans, why would I bother with an organization that is only humans?¡± He was confused, and grateful. If this thing worked as advertised, that meant he didn¡¯t even need to load it. Only¡­ how much ambient mana was there? Would it hurt him to drain it? Wait. Why had it been used to kill ten horses? With no answers forthcoming, he raised the revolver, and looked around¡­ spotting a cactus about fifty yards from the road, he centered his aim¡­ and pulled the trigger. A loud, familiar pop of the weapon firing¡­ and a hole appeared¡­ not where he was aiming, but at least in the cactus. He checked the revolver again; no bullets. That¡­ was useful. And the first proof that the blue boxes had some sort of connection with reality. Removing the other revolver seemed useless; it was, after all, not going to have unlimited ammo like the first. But might as well; perhaps he¡¯d run out of this.. ¡®Mana¡¯, and need it. Setting the revolver through his belt, he took the other, and re-secured the straps, making sure the whole load was good and settled¡­ before getting back into the driver¡¯s seat, and tucking the extra revolver into the glove compartment. Time to get moving. If his revolver could have infinite ammo, and the world was turning into some sort of game, best to get to the station before the ants started turning into goblins. *** When he reached ¡®Sam¡¯s Pit-stop¡¯ less than 20 minutes later, things still seemed fairly normal¡­ he pressed his card into the pump, started it running¡­ and glanced in at the clerk behind the counter; who was avidly staring at a TV inside. He whistled to himself, watching the pump running¡­ and once the truck was filled, considered for a moment pulling away from the pump, to be polite¡­ but couldn¡¯t see a single other vehicle; only a beat-up old yellow ford taurus that likely belonged to the man behind the counter. He stepped up to the door; the automated door sliding open unusually quickly¡­ and glanced at the clerk, a nice-looking teenager with long brown hair and a nametag reading ¡®Nathan¡¯, walking up beside him. ¡°Hey. This might sound crazy, but have you seen any..¡± ¡°Blue boxes? Yeah, and they¡¯re all over the news! Everybody¡¯s seen em! And animals¡­ starting to get weird. I¡¯m thinking about heading into town¡­ some places, its starting to get¡­ here, look.¡± He turned the monitor¡­ A news report was playing; he couldn¡¯t hear the woman, but he could see the video, of¡­ a praying mantis, the size of a dog, snatching up a child before the sound of gunshots went off. ¡°I dunno why¡­ but most of em are getting bigger slow. But some do it really fast.¡± Marcus stared at the screen, frowning. ¡°...A praying mantis is a predator. It kills, and eats people. If this is like a game¡­ does it get bigger, faster, by killing things?¡± The man behind the counter glanced at Marcus¡­ and shrugged. ¡°I guess it might. That¡¯d be really good for like¡­ exterminators and so forth. Wonder if I get anything for swatting flies and killing ants? Hah.¡± He could suddenly hear¡­ a noise. Something strange, clattering behind the store. Something¡­ big. The man looked back at the wall, then at the TV¡­ and reached under the counter, grabbing a baseball bat. ¡°Fuck! What the hell do we have here?¡± Marcus frowned. ¡°Not a damn clue. Maybe some eagle¡¯s been gobbling up rats or something and got to be really big?¡± The man rose to his feet, nodding. ¡°Just a second. I¡¯ve got cameras.¡± He hit a button beside the TV. After a few seconds¡­ an image of a massive, 4-foot long lizard, holding what was left of some unknown animal in its jaws, was rifling through the dumpster. The creature looked to be bigger than the teen. ¡°Fuck it, maybe we need to deal with it. Not sure if I want to do it with a bat, but¡­ I¡¯ll¡­ Upgrade weapon? Huh.¡± Marcus blinked. ¡°Wait! Don¡¯t! Do you¡­ have a gun with you?¡± He gestured at his hip, and the revolver. ¡°I upgraded my revolver, and it got unlimited ammo. Damn useful. Doesn¡¯t need bullets anymore.¡± ¡°...No¡­. I wanted to keep a shotgun under here, but the boss-man only lets me keep the bat. Says if the other guy has a gun, just let him take what he wants. Do you have an extra?¡± Marcus glanced back at his truck, then at the man. ¡°....Yeah. Look¡­¡± He glanced at the nametag. ¡°Nathan. That lizard might be dangerous. We might have to do this together. But that¡¯s my gun. You can do it, we can make sure the place is safe¡­ and after, either you buy the gun off me for a few hundred bucks, or you give it back. Deal?¡± Nathan looked at the bat, then at the truck outside. ¡°....Fuck that. If you¡¯ve got a gun, I¡¯ll give you three hundred for it. I¡¯ll pull it out of the ATM after. Deal?¡± ¡°Deal. My name¡¯s Marcus, I¡¯ve got the extra in the glove compartment, already loaded. And I¡¯ll watch your back¡­ Lets hope the damn thing isn¡¯t bulletproof.¡± *** The two moved quietly as they stepped out to the truck¡­ and as they reached it, Marcus glanced back at the gas station. ¡°Alright. Just take it out of the glove compartment and think you want to upgrade it, and it should work, just like it did on this one.¡± He could hear an engine running; someone was approaching, off in the distance, from the same direction Marcus had come. He glanced at what looked to be a semi; still a ways off; and turned back to Nathan¡­ who was closely examining the revolver he¡¯d taken out. ¡°Whats it say?¡± Marcus was interested in whether this was also counted as a ¡®Relic¡¯, or if would just become some other, lesser sort. ¡°It says¡­ its the Left Hand of Death. Rare. Sturdy, infinite ammo, and it makes regular bullets hit harder. Crazy. Also says its bound, and only me and the Grey family can use it.¡± Marcus chuckled. ¡°Well then. Only thing mine has it doesn¡¯t is something called ¡®Bane¡¯. I¡¯d think I should make it ¡®Lizard¡¯ bane, but its not an option, and I don¡¯t think snake is close enough.¡± Nathan held the revolver up, and took a deep breath. ¡°We do this together?¡± ¡°Hell yes. We just go around there, and¡­¡± The semi was pulling off, dragging up a cloud of dust; and the two men heard a sudden shriek¡­. As the lizard came running around the building, skipping from leg to leg like it didn¡¯t want either to touch the ground, its thick brown scales seeming tougher than they did moments before¡­ and leapt into the air, slamming into the side of the truck. The driver abruptly swerved; Marcus could make out a black cowboy hat, a look of panic¡­ and the truck turned, its load flipping over on its side as it slammed into both Marcus¡¯s own truck and the fuel pumps¡­ They barely had time to realize what was going on before the world was filled with the sound of breaking glass, the air filled with fire¡­. And the world went black. 2 - First Blood Consciousness was pain¡­. And noise. Some sort of terrible, awful, noise. He blearily opened his eyes, taking in the desert sun¡­ it was almost straight above him, forcing him to squint, and realize he¡¯d been out for at least an hour. That¡­ was bad. He needed a hospital. That could be brain damage, or anything, really. He slowly shifted, looking around¡­. And saw¡­. The Semi-truck on its side. The man trapped in it¡­ and the lizard.. At least another foot longer now, five or six feet long¡­ buried most of the way in the truck. There was a loud, crunching, tearing sound¡­ and he realized that the driver was being eaten, even as he watched. Not ten feet from the truck was¡­ the partial remains of what had to be Nathan. The poor gas station attendant was clearly partially eaten; his arms and legs both largely stripped of flesh, exposed bone visible¡­ and if the creature had already eaten what it wanted of him, and was now working on the driver¡­. He¡¯d probably be going after Marcus, soon. He looked around for a moment¡­ spotting the Right Hand of Death, lying on the pavement not ten feet away¡­ and started crawling towards it. Feeling more confident, more comfortable, with each passing moment¡­ until he reached it¡­ and lifted it into the air¡­ giving a nod. There we go. Monster, magic gun. He looked at Nathan¡¯s body¡­ and saw the other revolver lying beside him¡­. And slowly, gingerly, got to his feet¡­ his heart practically stopping when he heard the noise in the truck stop. The creature lifted its head out of the windshield, turning to look at Marcus; the face was a horrific sight, covered with blood that was clearly not its own, a loop of intestine danging out trailing back to the mostly-intact truck driver¡­. Who actually seemed to still be alive, and in terrible pain. He raised the revolver, hand shaking, trying to center it on the lizard¡¯s head¡­ and pulled the trigger; and just kept pulling the trigger, as quickly as he could, having no idea how many times he shot as the lizard first screeched in pain, as the first bullet hit its shoulder¡­ then started to charge Marcus¡­ as a second¡­ third¡­ fourth round hit it. At the fifth, it was crawling¡­ the abrupt sprint turning into a slow, wounded shamble. Moving so slowly that Marcus was able to calm down, focus¡­. And place a bullet directly between the beast¡¯s eyes. New blue screens popped in front of his face, immediately.
Congratulations! You have killed your first enemy!
Killing enemies awards you some of their inherent energy, dramatically accelerating your progress at leveling. The smaller and weaker you are, the less energy it takes to improve; as a human only recently initiated, you are below the average; depending on what sort of enemy you killed, you may have just given yourself some solid progress towards your first level!
Try killing many enemies of the same type, or enemies of higher level than you, for additional rewards! When the fight is over, you can either harvest the enemy for its meat, or touch it and think ¡®Loot¡¯ to acquire less valuable but neatly packaged rewards! If you have an extradimensional space, it will automatically be stored there!
Congratulations! You have gained your first level!
As you gain levels, you will increase in power over time; until you acquire a class, this will simply mean you improve in all respects at a steady pace. Think ¡®Display status¡¯, or focus on yourself and think ¡®Examine¡¯ to learn more.
He stared at the blue boxes¡­. Just like the previous times, they seemed to vanish as soon as he clearly understood them¡­ and while that could be important, what was more important¡­ was the trucker. Half of his torso had been hollowed out. His left arm was gone. He was still, somehow, clearly alive, and suffering, which¡­ didn¡¯t seem possible. He should¡¯ve been unconscious long before this, and dead from blood loss as well. Did the lizard-thing have some sort of power to keep its victims alive til it was done eating? Regardless. He looked at the revolver. The reason why it had ¡®Horse¡¯ available as a bane option was suddenly extremely clear. Shooting wasn¡¯t always a hostile act; sometimes, it was a mercy. He leveled the revolver on the driver¡¯s forehead. ¡°I¡­. wish I had other options. Better options. I know this hurts. I¡¯m sorry.¡± He closed his eyes, holding the weapon steady¡­ and one last pull of the trigger. An audible snap¡­ the man went limp, eyes shut.
Oh no! You¡¯ve killed a fellow sentient being!
While circumstances might sometimes force this, and we can¡¯t punish you for your actions, we highly recommend cooperating with your fellow sentients; for the first few weeks, any you meet, regardless of appearance, are either of your species, or chose to change races at level five.
Marcus gave a low sigh¡­ and looked at the tangled mess that was once the pumps¡­ his truck, and all his worldly belongings. He was gonna have to call the cops, and hope the cameras caught enough of what just went down that he didn¡¯t go to prison for the rest of his life. Assuming prison was still a thing. He walked up to Nathan, and looked at the revolver lying beside his hand¡­ and sighed, reaching down to pick it up..tucking it into his belt, on the opposite hip from the first. He really needed to get a couple of holsters, cowboy style, if he ended up using these regularly. He checked it; the gun had five bullets in it; Nathan had gotten off a single shot before the lizard killed him. A slow shake of the head¡­ as he patted his pockets¡­ finding his old flip-phone. He¡¯d cancelled his old plan, returned his iphone; and got a cheap ¡®burner¡¯ phone for the trip; wanting to get rid of as much old baggage as possible. He tapped it out¡­ 911. And got about the response he expected. ~¡¯We¡¯re sorry, all circuits are busy. Please wait, and try again.~This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Great. Hopefully that just meant it was an emergency, and not that the world had collapsed. He looked around for a minute, then at the yellow ford taurus; and at Nathan¡¯s corpse; mostly eaten, the keys nowhere to be found. Well. Fuck. He walked up to the monster, wondering. If he ¡®Looted¡¯ it, would he get the keys? Or would they vanish? Did he have to cut open its belly and pray he could find them inside it, somehow? He didn¡¯t even have a good knife handy. There didn¡¯t really seem to be a good option here. He knelt down, laying a hand on the body, and thought ¡®Loot¡¯. The body started to glow softly.
Congratulations, you have looted your first monster!
Most of its body is being converted to ambient mana, empowering yourself and the world around you. The rest is converting the creature into appropriate materials.
Looted: 6x Lizard Hide; 1x Wallet; 1x Keychain; 1x Expended bullet; 20 pounds Lizard Meat
It all just appeared, neatly laid out where the corpse once was. Six squares of scaly hide, each a bit over a foot to a side. A mostly intact wallet and keychain¡­ a bullet which had clearly been mushroomed into uselessness by the victim¡¯s flesh; and ten neatly cut, almost rectangular, lumps of meat. So. He didn¡¯t have an extradimensional storage. Hopefully he didn¡¯t need that meat later. He glanced at the gas station, then at the lizard corpse. Well, hell. If he was borrowing poor Nathan¡¯s car¡­.. There was more than one form of looting. *** The gas station had a small section for alcohol; and a stack of coolers, heavily overpriced ones, both of the cheap disposable styrofoam sort, as well as of the more expensive plastic variety. The beer was a bit tempting¡­ but this was not the time to be buzzed. He needed to keep heading west, and find the authorities, or a safe place otherwise. Maybe¡­.. Should he take out the tapes? No¡­. He shook his head, and took three of the coolers; loading them down with juices, sodas, and pre-packaged sandwiches from the cooler, before dragging the lot out to the car¡­ finding the backseat empty, and the passenger seat completely filled with wrappers from various fast-food places. He shoved the lot of it out onto the pavement, and set one of the coolers on the seat¡­ alongside a case of bottled water. Deciding he was about as ready as he was going to be, and all that was left was to get some clothes from the wreckage of his truck, if he could, he looked at his hand, and took a deep breath. Examine or check status? Was Examine something that would work on anything, and Check Status just on himself? He closed his eyes. Check status.
Marcus Jonah Grey
Unclassified Human 1
Strength 6
Endurance 11
Stamina 21
Agility 8
Mind 9
Power 5
Abilities None
Skills Minor(Ranged Weapons, Melee Weapons, Persuasion, Automotive Repair) Moderate(Survival, Sales)
Titles None
Boons Armor Upgrade x1, Tool Upgrade x1
He blinked. That didn¡¯t seem particularly right. He would guess he was above-average, strength-wise, and his endurance and stamina shouldn¡¯t be much better than anyone else. He didn¡¯t exactly run marathons. ¡°...I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any chance of questions being answered by whoever is doing this? Like why my Stamina is so high, how to use the boons, any of that?¡±
Administrator Message
We¡¯re sorry, Marcus, but we can¡¯t answer individual questions very often; even this answer is derived from a template. There aren¡¯t many of us, and billions of your people, we¡¯re doing our absolute best to provide boons and benefits tailored to preserve your species as a whole, but we didn¡¯t create this situation, and what we can do is limited. A handful of automated answers will populate from here. Stats are measured on a galactic scale, not a human one. You will discover, once you are able to change race or encounter other species, that humans are one of the most enduring and adaptable species out there; albeit not the most agile or physically strong. At a point when humans are still going strong, an Elf or Demon will have long collapsed from exhaustion. Boons are used by picking an appropriate item, and thinking about activating it. When you first pick up a piece of armor, you will be notified, and given the option to upgrade it; simply think that you want to, and it will happen. While the ¡®Tool¡¯ boon can be used for a variety of things, including making a vehicle more durable and consuming less or no fuel, or doing something similar to a power tool, it is recommended to use the ¡®Tool¡¯ option on the largest piece of portable storage you can locate; this will allow you to turn it into an extradimensional space you can access from anywhere.
Well. That answered some questions, but left more. He had some luggage in his truck he could use, of course. But¡­ how big could the space be? He glanced at the truck, laying on its side. If the power could upgrade an entire vehicle¡­. That massive storage container the Semi had been pulling was still fairly intact. He could just pick his biggest piece of luggage if it didn¡¯t work, but if it did¡­. He walked over to the truck¡­ trying not to look at the man whose life he had recently ended.. And laid a hand on the cargo container on wheels currently laying on its side, thinking¡­ ¡®Tool Upgrade.¡¯
Using boon: ¡®Tool Upgrade¡¯
You have selected a storage container of some sort for your upgrade. This container will begin to fade from existence in the real world, taking longer the larger the container is. When it has fully faded, you will be able to place and retrieve items from inside it at any time, and if it is sufficiently large, enter and exit it. Time does not pass inside the container while you are not accessing it.
He gave a nod, and a smile. Well, that was useful, at least. He glanced at the container¡­ which was slowly starting to grow. It might take a while¡­ but when it finished, he should have all the storage he could ever need. If his stuff hadn¡¯t been ruined by the impact, he might even wait around, load it all up, too. But¡­. Any second now, some giant eagle might swoop in, or a swarm of giant ants, or god knew what. He needed to get somewhere more populated, and fast. He turned to the yellow Taurus; and took a deep breath. Hopefully, things wouldn''t be too bad once he got on the road. 3 - The Chosen As two interstates merged, the road suddenly went from completely barren to slightly crowded; mostly with people leaving the small town, however, rather than those like himself coming in. The first exit outside Fort Tazewell was mostly just an RV park; which appeared to currently be on fire, with at least a dozen cop cars there. Marcus considered stopping to find out what was going on¡­ but he was hungry, and hoped he could get both a bit of info as well as a meal here in town; but¡­ should he stop by the police station, first? Looking down at the steering wheel of the car he was driving, he came to a decision¡­ there might be someone else this Nathan was planning to give a ride after work, or god knew what sort of situation. The cops should be able to track down Nathan¡¯s family, get that sorted out. The cops would be the perfect people to talk to about that. He nodded to himself¡­ and pulled off, heading towards the RV park¡­ and came to a stop not far away from it. There were gunshots; screams; even the sound of explosions. He started to re-think being there¡­ only to realize¡­ they might need help. That legendary revolver of his might be able to make a difference in killing some monster, though god knew how one could get strong enough to be dangerous in only a few hours. He parked the car, and headed towards the line of police cars blocking off the park; there was a crowd, right by the entrance. An older woman was yelling at the officer, wearing a bathrobe over an ancient nightie and waving a cane. ¡°This is my home! I live here! You can¡¯t keep me out of my own home!¡± The officer signed. ¡°Look, lady. Until the incident is contained, nobody is going in there. That thing has already killed at least seventeen people.¡± Marcus stepped closer, and looked at his uniform for a moment. ¡°Excuse me¡­ Officer White?¡± The man glanced at Marcus. ¡°That goes for you too, sir. Its deputy, but its fine.¡± ¡°Whatever¡¯s going on¡­ I got lucky with this whole ¡®system¡¯ thing, and the weapon it upgraded for me is a Legendary. It might be useful for killing whatever that is.¡± He looked at Marcus for a moment. ¡°Let me see it.¡± Marcus slid the revolver free, extending it handle-first to the deputy; who took a step closer, looking it over.. And gave a nod. ¡°It might be at that. Go ahead. Supposedly one of those ¡®Chosen¡¯ is going to show up, but he¡¯s dealing with an incident in Dallas right now, so nobody knows how long that¡¯ll take.¡± White glanced at the crowd, then back at Marcus. ¡°Just be careful. Its a dog¡­. They were running dog-fights like a mile from here, and the beast killed some bait animals, the other dogs, the guys who were there to bet on the fights, everybody, some livestock that were trapped in their pens, then started on the neighbors. Normal bullets barely hurt the thing now and its almost as big as a damned horse.¡± He gave a slow nod. That sounded way scarier than a 5-foot lizard, and explained a few things. ¡°Damn! I¡¯ll be careful, sir.¡± As he started walking into the RV park, he could hear White calling it in on the radio¡­ and he could see one of the RVs suddenly flipped over on its side. There were at least a dozen deputies, with shotguns, rifles; most of it clearly not standard police issue; shouting, opening fire¡­ and then he could see the¡­ ¡®dog¡¯. It was at least several hundred pounds, its thick grey rhino-like hide covered with old scars and fresh bullet wounds, and as it hopped atop the RV, it looked at the sky, letting out a loud howl¡­. Whatever it was, something in that howl damn near made Marcus wet himself. It felt like¡­ just pure fear. He could barely hold the revolver steady as he raised it to aim at the beast¡­ which wasn¡¯t looking at him at all, instead turning to face a man who¡¯d just opened up with a double-barreled shotgun, causing a nasty wound in the beast¡¯s torso. He held his breath, trying to control the shaking¡­ and after the dog pounced on the deputy with his shotgun, grabbing the arm holding it and tearing it right off of his body in a trail of blood¡­ he pulled the trigger. An empowered bullet arced out with a visible glow; not one of the fake spirit rounds it made with magic, but real gunpowder somehow augmented by whatever made the gun work¡­ and it slammed into the dog¡¯s shoulder, leaving a fist the size of a hole¡­ and causing it to cry out again in anger¡­ now turning to look at Marcus. As he kept pulling the trigger in a panic, backing away, the next three shots all missing, he finally hit it again with the fourth one, causing the thing to stumble, a massive, drooling mug slamming into the dirt¡­ and then a sudden loud crunch; as a cop car slammed into the animal¡¯s side, crushing it against one of the other RVs. With it suddenly immobilized, and clearly badly hurt, Marcus fired the sixth and final bullet; any more would just be the weaker conjured rounds¡­. And this time, pegged the beast between the eyes¡­he watched the eyes glaze over¡­. And its struggle to escape ended.
Congratulations! You have gained your second level!
He looked down at the revolver¡­ and dropped to his knees, staring at the corpse of some poor, abused dog. He felt terrible; it had gone through hell at the hands of its owners, forced to fight and suffer for their amusement. If not for the system, it would still be doing exactly that; but all the arrival of this magic meant was that it suffered a shorter, more violent life, and took a few innocents out with it. One of the deputies stepped up, and clapped him on the shoulder; he accidentally dropped the revolver. The man smiled down at him; he was older, perhaps his fifties, with an immaculate white mustache with a few flecks of blood in it. His uniform read¡­ ¡®Mayhew¡¯. ¡°Well then, son. That was handy. You looking for a job? I hate to say it, but we¡¯re gonna have to hire a bunch of deputies after this¡­¡± He looked around. ¡°Maybe more, later.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Anyways. What brings you out here? Just trying to help?¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°....I came to talk to the cops. After a monster attack out on the interstate, my truck got destroyed, so I¡­ borrowed¡­ the car of a man it killed. I was just trying to hit the coast, figured I should report it, didn¡¯t want anyone to think I stole it, and I needed to get a new ride, a legal one. I¡­. my dad died. Gotta get to Oregon.¡± The deputy sighed. ¡°Well. We¡¯re currently in a state of emergency. Credit cards are finicky, cell phones, too. This whole system thing can be used for messaging, but its unreliable.¡± He glanced at the dead dog. ¡°You¡¯ve done us a solid. You should get some food and stay at Charlottes for the night¡­ the motel off the next exit. If I can work something out with one of our impounded cars, I will. Definitely not gonna leave you hanging either way; absolute least I¡¯ll do is get you a ride to the airport tomorrow.¡± Marcus sighed¡­ and nodded. ¡°That sounds¡­¡± There was a vivid white flash¡­ and two figures appeared in midair. One of them a man; but at least seven feet tall, wearing some sort of golden plate armor, with a musket strapped to his back, and a massive hammer in hand¡­ The other¡­ a woman in a long black robe, etched with glowing flames; her face covered by a black mask, similarly etched with flames, only showing long black hair¡­ as the two settled to the ground. He blinked, looking at the man in gold¡­ and tried ¡®Examine¡¯ for the first time.
Unknown(Chosen) Level: 20
The target is too much higher level than you to get any details they don¡¯t wish to reveal. Continue using Examine to acquire the skill; once it has reached Mastery, it can identify any person or object.
Ahhh. The Chosen that was supposed to be coming to help. The man in golden armor had stepped up, and was looking at the dog¡­ talking to the deputies around the corpse. The other, in the black robes, glanced his way¡­ and then grabbed the man¡¯s shoulder, giving him a firm tug¡­ and pointing at Marcus¡­ or rather, the revolver, laying on the dirt. The man focused on the weapon¡­ Marcus picked it up, tucking it into his belt, concerned¡­ as the man stepped closer, looking down at him. ¡°Well hello there, mister Grey. Myself and Nightfire just finished handling a¡­ problem¡­ at the Dallas zoo. We¡¯re going to be heading to another destination shortly. The deputies mentioned you took Cujo over there out with that revolver. Mind if I take a look at it?¡± Marcus looked down at the revolver¡­ and lifted it up, letting the man look at it. ¡°Been in my family for generations. Its been used to shoot Confederates, Nazis, and Vietcong¡­ and now, apparently, monsters.¡± The golden figure glanced around behind him. The black-robed woman was talking to the deputies now. ¡°Well. I¡¯ve got a musket, used in the revolutionary war; but its only a Rare. That revolver there¡­ is Legendary. Means that it¡¯ll get stronger over time, to match the user, even unlock new powers. With Uncommons, rares¡­ we have to swap out items now and again or they fall behind.¡± ¡°Huh. Sounds like I lucked out on this. What about Epics?¡± He patted the other revolver¡­ which drew a stare from the man. ¡°Tha¡­. well. Epics¡­ are the next step down. They still get stronger over time. But don¡¯t have as many powers. Anyways! I would like to make an offer. The system uses a currency called ¡®Credits¡¯, which are basically just distilled mana. You can spend it to level faster if you¡¯re below the level for your area.. And if not, you can use it to buy gear, or special abilities. Me and Nightfire are going to be teleporting to another hotspot as soon as her teleport cools down, but¡­. That revolver¡­¡± He looked at it again. ¡°It would make a huge difference for me. Having a legendary gun might let me take out the sort of monster that poses a threat to a city. If you¡¯d be willing to part with it, I¡¯d give you six thousand credits; and teleport you to a level five zone. You could come with us¡­ bump up to level five immediately¡­ and have enough credits left over to buy a whole set of rare gear, or uncommon gear and a few cool powers, like regeneration, or teleporting.¡± He patted the gun on his back. ¡°I¡¯ll even leave you my musket; shoots slower, but does crazy damage, so you won¡¯t be defenseless.¡± The revolvers were bound to the Grey family; which was just him, right now. And, well. Nathan for the Left, but Nathan was dead. Even if there was some way to unbind them, he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to do so; if this golden man was so big about them, they must be really valuable¡­ so he¡¯d be best holding onto them. ¡°..I appreciate the offer. But these guns have been in my family for over a hundred years. If I ever have kids, I¡¯ll pass them on to them. Otherwise, I¡¯ll hang onto them.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Figures. Maybe someday I¡¯ll see you beside me on the front line, saving humanity from the monsters.¡± The golden figure gave him a nod¡­ and turned back to talk to the woman¡­ who glanced back at Marcus again, before checking to make sure the dog was dead. A few seconds later, the duo vanished; undoubtedly off to save some other town. He shook his head, watching them go¡­. And then turned to head back to the entrance of the RV park. He needed to get something to eat. And maybe check out that motel¡­ he felt tired as hell for some reason. *** The hotel room was clean, calm, dark; Charlotte hadn¡¯t cared that his card hadn¡¯t worked; the deputy had put in a good word for him, that he¡¯d shot the dog that was causing so much havoc; and the room was his for the night; or the next few, if he needed it. The world was in chaos. Ordinary creatures were growing, mutating; the worst places were the zoos, but everything from ants to cockroaches was growing at an alarming pace; but so far, nothing humanity couldn¡¯t deal with. Everyone figured the Chosen were a bit overly concerned; they¡¯d been taken away, allowed to train for a full year in a place where time ran faster, and then returned to earth merely hours after they left; and were claiming that everyone needed to prepare, this was going to be the end of the world if people didn¡¯t change. The government, of course, said it was all in hand; and the military was being stood up and sent out to help. Marcus¡­ wasn¡¯t too sure. Just the two monsters he¡¯d seen had been damn nasty, but he couldn¡¯t imagine one facing a tank. The owner, Charlotte, was a bit old for him, but had very definitely been flirting. She was still good-looking for her age, so he was almost tempted¡­. But no. He was just getting ready to settle down for a much-needed nap when he heard¡­ a knocking at the door. He frowned¡­. He¡¯d just gotten out of the shower, just had his boxers on¡­ wasn¡¯t planning to get re-dressed til morning. But¡­ fine. He slipped on a pair of slacks, and another T-shirt; this one the Grateful Dead; and stuffed the revolvers in his pockets, before heading to the door, peeking through¡­ to see the woman in black outside; the glowing red fire emblems making her stand out in the darkness. He opened the door, glancing out at her. ¡°Ehh? Nightfire, was it? What did you need?¡± The night air was cool; uncomfortably so; and he wanted to keep this as brief as possible. She tilted her head. ¡°I¡¯d like to give you another chance to reconsider Greg¡¯s offer. The Golden Boy could make a tremendous difference with that gun. Far more than you could. You¡¯re not just only level 2; you have no titles. No gifts.¡± ¡°I appreciate that. Maybe I¡¯ll be as good as he is someday. Maybe not. But the answer is no.¡± ¡°Maybe you aren¡¯t understanding me.¡± Suddenly, he felt¡­ intense heat. As if his skin were on fire, his body being lifted up into the air. ¡°You¡¯re only level 2. I just hit 21. If you have no idea what that means in terms of power, let me be clear¡­ I can crush you, like a cockroach. So. Last chance.¡± He focused on the revolver. He had zero chance here. At best, he could hurt her. This was no hero. Could he set the ¡®Bane¡¯ to human¡­. Ahh. Yes. He grabbed the revolver, yanking it from its holster, pointing at her and pulling the trigger¡­ in a feat of speed and reflexes he would have marveled at mere days before. And¡­ she gestured. A brilliant flash of red light; what appeared to be a whip formed out of pure fire lashed out, wrapping around his body¡­ and when the tip of it smacked into his forehead, the world went black. 4 - Broken Things were going to be close. Nightfire had been following Golden Boy for about a year now her time; it still felt incredibly weird that all of her adventures had taken place, on earth, the same day that the system arrived to begin with. They¡¯d been warned by the Committee in no uncertain terms that the primary issue was ¡®snowballing¡¯; once a nest of some given swarm, or a single particular predator, reached a certain threshold, it would tend to grow out of control, getting stronger and stronger until the locals couldn¡¯t deal with it. Nothing on Earth would be able to grow past level 21 for the first few days; it would scale up over time, and visitors above that level would feel their power drain out of them if they dared to invade; so by getting all of the Chosen to level 20 before sending them back, they ensured that, so long as they kept going, stayed at whatever the new level cap was, there would always be humans strong enough to deal with threats. However. If they didn¡¯t convince humans to start scaling up in power as well¡­ eventually the threats would grow beyond what the Chosen could control. They needed to both make sure humanity¡¯s leaders understood the importance of working together¡­ and stay at the peak themselves. So far, the highest-level threat any Chosen had encountered was in Africa; a Lion pride which had slaughtered its way through multiple herds of prey, a few rival lions, and then a few local villages; the Lionesses had been level 15, and the Lion himself at level 14, a bit bigger, but slower. And that¡­ was after only one day. Fortunately, there couldn¡¯t be too many of those; each predator that did that would reach level 20 in a few days, and then be stuck following the growth rate of the earth. And if the Chosen caught them fast enough¡­ Well. The Committee gave humanity a 50/50 shot of either making it out with moderate losses, or collapsing into a handful of well-defended enclaves. Every new world posed its own unique challenges, and they speculated that the biggest threat after the first week would be insects; but it was impossible to be sure. She looked down at the poor man she¡¯d just used her Fire Whip on. ¡®Marcus Grey¡¯, where he lay dying in the sand half a mile from the spot where he¡¯d shot that dog. Level 7; not the biggest threat they¡¯d killed that day, but nasty. The fact that he had two almost identical upgraded items was telling; he must have used someone else to upgrade the second, then killed them, or got them killed. Who knew what he¡¯d become if left alone. Warlord? Monster? It didn¡¯t matter. Humanity and its Chosen needed every advantage they could get. She lifted the Legendary weapon from the ground, studying it. Golden Boy would get so much use out of¡­. She stared for a moment. Bound. She looked down at the man¡­ and dropped the revolver to the dirt. Well, fuck. This had been a waste of effort. Right now, Legendary weapons were rare, priceless; there were less of them than there were Chosen. They wouldn¡¯t be able to unbind this thing without enough credits to buy another Legendary; half the point of Bound items was that it was pointless to try to steal them. She gave a low sigh. Well. That would have improved the odds slightly. But not that much. She looked at the dying, helpless figure in the sand, and shook her head. Better luck in the next life, Marcus. She focused; and started her spell to teleport back to where she camped out for the night; it only took five minutes to cool down now that she¡¯d reached Expert; they likely thought she was still using the bathroom. *** The only thing Marcus knew when he woke up was pain. Everything, every part of him, hurt; mostly the face, but¡­ when he opened his eyes, he saw a white ceiling, bright lights¡­ this¡­. Was a hospital? He looked around, then down at himself¡­ cheap paper surgical gown. Green and white. What could he remember, about how he got here? What¡­. The Chosen. Golden Boy and Nightfire. Callsigns, obviously. They wanted the revolvers. He didn¡¯t want to give them up. They¡­ yanked him out of his motel room in the middle of the night and tried to kill him. He looked around at the hospital room. Maybe they had managed¡­ but he was alive now. He tried to remember what had come before¡­. But¡­ nothing. He reached up¡­ and felt his face. The pain grew even worse; he had some sort of nasty burns covering it, and¡­ ¡°Ahh, I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you.¡± He looked up. There was a young woman in green scrubs; pale, blond, pretty enough¡­ he might have tried flirting with her before. But¡­ why? Who cared? ¡°Doing what?¡± She stepped up close, and set a hand on his arm. ¡°Whatever got you, the burns were nasty. They ate through the skin and muscle all the way to the bone in several spots, and even reached your brain; the doctors weren¡¯t sure you¡¯d wake up. Honestly, another couple days and they¡¯d have let you die; we¡¯ve been getting regular pass-throughs every day.¡± Marcus leaned back in the bed, sighing. ¡°Ahh. I suppose it would be too much to hope for that healing magic would come along with all this.¡± ¡°Oh, it did! But¡­. it doesn¡¯t do any good for brain damage, restoring tissue without making you¡­ think.. again¡­ and considering how only two of us have reached level five and picked up a healer class so far, what little energy we have is used where it will do some good. Until you woke up and spoke¡­ we weren¡¯t sure you were part of that list.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. She inhaled deeply. ¡°Speaking of which.¡± She stepped to the end of his bed.. And picked up a clipboard. ¡°Could you please tell me your name, home address, and identify¡­¡± What followed was a cognition test. Nothing complicated. Nothing strange. An elementary student could handle it; the whole point was, apparently, to make sure he was still a thinking, sentient being. The pain was a distraction; but not much of one. And when he finished with the questions¡­ She laid a hand on him¡­ and suddenly¡­ the pain dulled dramatically. It wasn¡¯t completely gone¡­ but he felt much, much better. ¡°...Thanks. How long was I out?¡± He didn¡¯t actually feel gratitude. He thought that he should, instead of just the mild irritation at her waiting to make sure his brain was working before healing him. Was that something he¡¯d lost, due to the brain damage? He needed to pretend as if he were thankful, might look odd otherwise. ¡°Two days. You spent one just lying in the sand, you¡¯d been there at least that before we found you.¡± He glanced around. ¡°Is my¡­ stuff still here?¡± He blinked. He had a dimensional storage space. If he¡¯d put the guns in there¡­ of course not. But¡­ it had the current contents of what had been in the truck before he¡¯d turned it into his own storage space. He should check that out later. ¡°You had your clothes¡­ no shoes.. And a wallet. Was there anything you were supposed to have?¡± ¡°...My guns. A pair of revolvers. They attacked me for them.¡± She sighed. ¡°Damn. That¡¯s awful. Upgraded weapons and armor have been selling for quite a bit; lots of that going around. I don¡¯t plan on doing any fighting, so I just upgraded a pistol and sold it for ten grand. Anyways, you should be up on your feet shortly¡­ I can have someone bring you a spare change of clothes from the lost and found if you¡¯d like, and your wallet.¡± He didn¡¯t really care about being exposed; but he¡¯d look out of place, walking the streets in a hospital gown. ¡°...Yes, please.¡± ¡°Well then. You sit up, stretch out a bit¡­ it¡¯ll be a few days before you¡¯re at a hundred percent, but the underlying muscle and bone damage should be gone, and you can get back to it, just¡­ be careful.¡± She smiled at him¡­ and then stepped out. He looked over his body. The burn scars. The flesh. He could feel pain. He could feel the paper gown sliding against his skin. But¡­ there was something wrong. Something deeper. Something¡­ broken¡­ about the way he was thinking, and seeing the world. The only thing he still seemed to be able to feel¡­ was anger. Rage at the what had happened to him. His fists¡­ clenched without thinking¡­ had started to shake. Golden Boy. Nightfire. Two names burned into his mind. He didn¡¯t even know their real names, or faces. Just these.. Aliases. Callsigns. But..they were the ones who did this to him. They had to die. He had to kill them. Petty thieves pretending to be heroes. Leaving him for dead, lying in the sand. They were stronger than he was. Far stronger. He¡¯d need to find a way to match them. Get the revolvers back, if he could. They would help. He closed his eyes¡­ and waited for his clothes to be delivered. His bank accounts still had a decent amount of cash in them. For however much longer that still mattered, he¡¯d take advantage. *** He felt a bit odd, stepping out of the hospital. A pair of flip-flops were all they had to fit, shoe-wise, but he had a nice button-up black shirt to go with his jeans; which had thankfully survived intact. His cell phone¡­ was back at the motel. It had been plugged in and set to serve as an alarm clock, despite the motel already having an alarm clock. He had money. He needed a weapon. Some armor, of some sort. And the coast¡­ didn¡¯t matter. The only thing that mattered was finding a way to kill those two Chosen. His father¡¯s home could wait. He¡¯d go there after¡­ if at all. The most logical place to start, for weapons, was a pawn shop. This being texas, there were undoubtedly at least two or three. He should check them all out, see which one had the best options¡­ and go from there. He would need to hit the motel, hope his phone was still there, and the car¡­ but first things first. He¡¯d been told the closest pawn shop was only a block away; he should stop there first. His burns were already feeling better by the time he reached the shop; working, getting the blood pumping¡­ he felt as if the nurse¡¯s estimate was short. He might have scars¡­ but he felt like he should be fine with just a good night¡¯s sleep. The pawn shop¡­ ¡®Fort Tazewell Pawn and Title¡¯.. Was familiar. The same pattern all throughout the south; a long gun-rack surrounding the central aisles; neatly organized, a long row of tools on this aisle¡­ electronics and video games on this one¡­ various oddball trinkets on that one¡­ Oddly enough, there was a whole stack of bulletproof vests; simple, black and grey affairs, clearly brand new, sitting on the counter; and all absolutely tiny, child-sized. He looked them over for a moment, as he stepped up to the counter. ¡°...Whats the story with the vests?¡± The owner¡­ a heavyset, balding man who was himself wearing one of the vests, grinned. ¡°That¡¯s the trick, there. When you ¡®upgrade¡¯ an item¡­ it adjusts to fit you. I had like a hundred vests of sizes nobody could wear stuck in storage¡­ and now¡­ everybody wants armor of some sort, and you can just touch it, and poof. Uncommon, and sized perfect for you.¡± He stared at them for a few seconds¡­ and looked back at the owner. ¡°How much?¡± ¡°Five hundred.¡± Marcus tilted his head for a moment. ¡°...I¡¯m assuming prices have gone up dramatically since a couple days ago.¡± ¡°You got it. I sold most of what I had at the regular prices, but now, unless you¡¯re paying in gold or silver, its two hundred and fifty percent. And I¡¯m not selling anything gold or silver anymore¡­ I think we¡¯re either gonna just be using system ¡®credits¡¯, or precious metals, by the end of the year, I¡¯m working on getting out of cash as much as possible.. And you should do the same.¡± He thought for a moment. He had plenty for this, even if he overpaid¡­ and the man was right. Cash would likely be worthless, soon. ¡°I¡¯ll take a look at your guns, and the guy next door¡­ probably any other pawn shops, as well, before I buy. But the armor¡­ I¡¯ll go ahead and take.¡± He extended his credit card¡­ as he laid hands on the top vest on the stack.
Tactimax Concealed Armored Vest(Uncommon)
This common armored vest is mass-produced by Tactimax, and was originally rated strictly for small-arms fire. It is made of simple kevlar with thin ceramic plate inserts.
Concealed: This armor is built to hide under existing clothing, and can be combined with other clothing or armor effects. This ability does not stack infinitely, and if this armor provides magical benefits, some may cease function with other armors or clothing. Resistant: This armor is extremely difficult to damage, and can be repaired by expending mana or credits. It will significantly reduce damage taken to the torso while worn.
He nodded at the owner¡­ and stepped into the bathroom to change. It hurt, putting it on over the burns¡­ but not nearly as much as it had when he woke up. He considered what he was looking for in a gun¡­ but knew it needed to be high-power¡­ and as much as he liked the revolvers, if he couldn¡¯t find them, he¡¯d probably go for a rifle. 5 - Off the Rails The second pawn shop in Fort Tazewell was named ¡®Murphy¡¯s Pawn¡¯; and the nurse had warned him to be careful about the place; they kept getting investigated by the cops for dealing with stolen goods, but on the other hand, it had never been proven; so they were still in operation¡­ so far. He wasn¡¯t planning on staying in Tazewell for that long, so it wasn¡¯t as if he cared¡­ Marcus simply walked in and started looking around; there were two other customers, one checking out a shotgun, and the other looking over the TVs; as he kept glancing them over. He wanted a rifle. Anything specific? He could always go with an AR-15; those were ridiculously common nowadays, he could easily get one and tons of ammo for it. Would¡¯ve been much better if he could¡­. He stopped, standing at the counter. There was a three-foot walkway between the glass display counter, where shelves of jewelry, small electronics, and a handful of handguns lay on display¡­ and the back shelf where various objects, repair tools, a speaker system¡­ lay. Among them¡­ a pair of extremely familiar revolvers. They¡­ had stolen his guns. Left him for dead. And then¡­ just sold them at a goddamned pawn shop? The owner was still occupied with the customer he was already helping with the shotgun, and didn¡¯t notice when Marcus simply stepped around the counter, picked up his guns¡­ and then stepped back, staring down at them. He stuffed the Legendary one in his belt, and ¡®Examined¡¯ the Epic one for the first time.
Left Hand of Death (Relic) (Epic) (Bound)
This Epic Bound revolver was wielded in battle by one Alistair Booth, and passed into the Grey family, where it was handed down from father to son for the next century. Much how it was given to the Greys, it was given in time of need to a stranger at a moment of great danger. It has now been upgraded, invested with power by the system. As an Epic weapon, it has three augmentation. As a bound weapon, when wielded by anyone but Nathan Davis outside the Grey family it acts as an ordinary revolver.
Unbreakable: This weapon is virtually impossible to break, and cannot jam or misfire. Spiritual Ammunition: When fired without a bullet in the cylinder, this weapon will consume a tiny amount of ambient mana, or if there is no ambient mana, that of the user, to generate a temporary magical bullet. Empowered: When firing normal bullets, this weapon augments their force of impact significantly, increasing damage by 150% and adding this adjustment to any enchanted bullets.
He stared at the display. He¡¯d never known Nathan¡¯s last name. He should feel a bit of sorrow. Instead¡­ he simply grew even more angry. The owner; Murphy, undoubtedly; turned to look at him¡­ and shouted, starting to stalk forward angrily away from the man still holding the shotgun. Marcus got his first good look at him; overweight, shoulder-length grey mullet, camo jacket and pants; he¡¯d seen this sort before¡­ ¡°Hey! Hands off the merchandise! Those aren¡¯t for sale!¡± The anger grew more intense. ¡°Of course they aren¡¯t. They belong to me, and I¡¯m not selling them. Where did you get them?¡± He glowered at Marcus, hands gripping his belt. ¡°You¡¯d best put those down, before I put you down. I¡¯d hate to tell the cops I had to shoot an armed intruder, trying to steal guns from my shop. Right, Floyd?¡± The other man¡­ a bit younger, and slimmer, but also dressed in camo; chuckled. ¡°Didn¡¯t that happen once before, Murph?¡± ¡°That it did, Floyd. Is it gonna happen again?¡± Marcus glowered at the man. Both guns were empty. If the man didn¡¯t believe Marcus, or hadn¡¯t read the description, he might think that meant they weren¡¯t dangerous right now. Of course, it didn¡¯t matter for either of them. ¡°These are my guns. Passed down to me from my great-grandfather. They¡¯ve been used to kill Traitors, Nazis, and Commies. And if you try to keep me from leaving your store with them, they will add the first ever Pawn shop owner to the list; probably not the first Texan, though. I will not give them back, nor pay you a dime for them. You feel free to call the Sheriff, I don¡¯t mind waiting; I can prove I own them. Or you can pull that piece and die like a dog.¡± He glanced behind the counter. ¡°I will, however, buy some bullets from you, if you¡¯ve got the right caliber, and perhaps a Holster.¡± ¡®Murph¡¯ focused on him for a moment, then looked at his friend, Floyd¡­ and then suddenly reached down, yanking a gun from the holster¡­ and made a surprised sound when the empty revolver fired¡­ the bullet going right through his torso, revealing the man had been wearing armor, as well, from the jagged edges visible through the hole; as he slid nervelessly to the ground, blood pooling below him. For his part, Floyd dropped the shotgun, and ran; sprinting for the door¡­ while the other customer rapidly followed in the not-lamented Murphy''s footsteps, drawing a weapon and ending up a corpse on the floor. Marcus watched Floyd go; ideally, he¡¯d fetch the Sheriff. They could talk things out¡­ and he could prove the guns were his; after all, the deputy had seen him use one on the dog. He walked up to ¡®Murph¡¯, and frowned. It was odd that the man had drawn on him, instead of calling the Sheriff. Even more odd the other man had. Was there a reason? He didn¡¯t care. ¡°How much for the bullets?¡± ¡°T¡­twenty¡­ a box¡­¡± The man stared down at his chest. ¡°...Fuck. They really were¡­ yours¡­ huh¡­.¡± He died against his own counter, eyes still open, staring at nothing. ¡°Yup.¡± He pulled out his wallet¡­ making sure he had cash, before turning towards the stacks of ammo boxes behind the counter. So many different kinds. These kinds of revolvers had used paper cartridges, once. But thankfully, they had¡­ hmm. He didn¡¯t find anything. Perhaps the caliber was rare. Fortunately, he still had a box of his own¡­ though he¡¯d need to get more later. He¡¯d check the other pawn shop when he was done. He considered stealing the holsters he¡¯d need; that would be actually breaking the law, though. Did he care about that? Not really. Only what the Sheriff would do if they caught him. It¡¯d make it harder to explain the situation. He leaned against the counter, waiting. Any second now, one of the deputies would come in, and¡­ huh. There were three sheriff¡¯s department vehicles outside¡­ he could just barely make them out from where he stood behind the counter. One of them was talking to Floyd, who was animatedly pointing at the building¡­ and all three of them were loading weapons. Great. He was lying to them about the whole situation, to instigate a shoot-out. He looked at the door for a moment, considering. He didn¡¯t really care if they lived or died. Only if he got to kill that Nightfire lady. If they came charging in shooting, he¡¯d kill them without a second thought.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He studied the counter¡­ and stepped behind it, picking a good spot that might actually survive a few stray bullets; the jewelry case appeared to actually be made of metal.. And watched the door¡­ guns ready¡­ but not pointed at anyone. If they came in talking, he¡¯d talk. The door was kicked open, and a bullet hit the ceiling, before he finished the thought. He ducked down; and returned fire, a single spiritual bullet slamming into the deputy¡­ and through, leaving an almost perfect hole. As he fell to the ground face-first, three more charged in behind him¡­ and Marcus simply ducked behind the jewelry counter, continued to fire¡­ the first three died trying to get inside¡­ while Marcus missed two shots at the fourth, who managed to duck behind a rack of electronics. He fired at the rack a few times¡­ but the metal shelving seemed to deflect the bullets enough so as not to hit the deputy. Clearly, the bullets were just too low-caliber for much penetration if they weren¡¯t augmenting a real thing¡­ or directly striking something they were Bane against. Those deputies should¡¯ve been wearing armor much tougher than any shelf. As the fourth deputy sidled along the counter, and Marcus could hear him moving to try and slip behind it, a display popped up.
Congratulations! You have gained your third level!
As it faded away, he considered¡­ he never had looked at what he¡¯d gotten for the second. Now he¡¯d never know. He didn¡¯t have much time before the deputy slid his way into a good position¡­ he reached into the extradimensional storage space, into the box of bullets¡­ and grabbed a handful. He started loading them, one by one, as he listened to the man move¡­ and sirens sound, of more vehicles approaching. ¡°Look, deputy. If you people hadn¡¯t come in trying to kill me, I wouldn¡¯t have killed them. Murphy tried to rob me, and when he pulled a gun, I shot him. I won¡¯t lose any sleep if I have to kill you, but it¡¯d be less risky for all of us if you stopped right there.¡± The deputy seemed to pause, considering. The second revolver was loaded. The extra bullets dumped into his pocket, where his car keys would be¡­ if he had any. ¡°Throw your weapon down and surrender, right the fuck now, and you¡¯ll live to see a trial!¡± The deputy was¡­ right there. Legally, he should surrender. It was the right thing to do. But even if he might have gotten away with shooting Murph for pulling a gun on him¡­ which wasn¡¯t a certainty¡­ he definitely wouldn¡¯t get away with shooting the three deputies. If there were any witnesses. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll throw you the gun.¡± He didn¡¯t really care about these people, or their lives. He didn¡¯t have to kill him¡­ but they could stop Marcus from killing her. He slid one of the two revolvers forward¡­ The deputy took a relieved breath, and rose to his feet. ¡°Hands in the¡­¡± And dropped, as the Right Hand of Death fired, the bullet augmented by the handgun¡¯s power, passing through the deputies head¡­ and the wall, leaving itself buried in one of the cars outside. He looked outside, and saw Floyd talking to another deputy, taking cover behind the car¡­ and nodded. He raised both revolvers; if that power was enough to go through the wall¡­ He pulled both triggers. Floyd¡­ was gone. Part of his head, at least. The other deputy, he¡¯d missed. He grumbled, and ducked low, stepping up to the door; and glancing around. There were other people. Other witnesses, inside the bar across the street. Some of whom had already drawn weapons. Fine. If thats how it had to be, that was how it had to be. He leveled the two revolvers on the police car, and fired until both were empty; the rounds penetrating through the car in at least six places; and he could see a splatter of blood from one of those shots. A hit; but no way to be sure if it was fatal. He turned to the bar across the street, visible through the glass windows of both structures¡­ and started shooting, sweeping across. He didn¡¯t know who he hit¡­ but if he didn¡¯t want to be pursued across the desert, he couldn¡¯t leave anyone hunting for him. It felt strange¡­ firing round after round, dozens of them, from a pair of revolvers, with no stopping, no reloading¡­ When he didn¡¯t see any movement, he stopped firing¡­ and dropped down behind the counter, looking around the store. They sold all sorts of things here¡­ including some accessories for guns. He grabbed a pair of classic, cowboy-style holsters; if he was going to use revolvers, he might as well¡­grabbing a leather jacket hanging from the rack, before quietly sliding into the back of the store, looking around. There were lockboxes. A counter covered with binders, each with a label like ¡®Firearms¡¯ ¡®Watches¡¯... apparently guides to help determine prices. Probably irrelevant now that everything had rarities. An office¡­ He could see an old-fashioned security system¡­ complete with cameras recording everything inside. He stepped into the office¡­ ignored the cash¡­ and disconnected the power, before pulling the tape; an actual old-fashioned VHS. Strange. Perhaps there was a newer, more up-to-date, system hidden away? It didn¡¯t matter. By the time he reached the backdoor, he realized¡­ those cop cars probably had recording devices in them. Had they seen his face, from the street? He settled the holsters in place on his hips¡­ put the revolvers away¡­ and put the jacket on. Just different enough that a casual glance wouldn¡¯t peg him as the shooter. He opened the door, stepping out into an alleyway; seeing the back entrances of several other stores, with cars parked¡­ probably the owners¡­ he nodded¡­ and started walking. He needed to get back to that motel. Get the keys. The car. It would be a long walk. Perhaps he¡¯d need to kill more people. Maybe not. As he walked around the corner, seeing three more sheriff¡¯s department cars driving up, none of them seemed to be paying attention to him as he started walking away, slowly, heading east, towards the motel. He thought for a moment. Might as well see what two levels got him.
Marcus Jonah Grey
Unclassified Human 3
Strength 10
Endurance 15
Stamina 25
Agility 12
Mind 13
Power 9
Abilities None
Skills Minor(Melee Weapons, Persuasion, Automotive Repair, Examine) Moderate(Survival, Sales, Ranged Weapons)
Titles None
Boons None
Huh. So he¡¯d gotten better with guns that quickly? And each stat had increased by two with each level. Useful information¡­ if he knew exactly what each stat did. Hopefully he¡¯d get more information when he hit level five, or¡­ he hadn¡¯t been on the internet since he¡¯d left home. There was almost definitely going to be someone compiling data on this online. Hopefully he could nab a laptop, or tablet, and use the motel¡¯s wifi¡­ assuming the internet was still a thing. He didn''t give another thought to the pile of bodies he''d left behind; and had no idea how horrified the old Marcus would have been at what he''d just done. 6 - Leaving Tazewell If the witnesses had pointed back to him, they hadn¡¯t caught up by the time he reached Walmart; where his guns drew almost as little notice as the traces of blood on the black shirt; in fact, he only saw four customers who weren¡¯t armed, with even the cashiers packing, something that would¡¯ve been unheard of even in texas. He had considered stealing what he wanted; after all, he could just shove an entire rack into his dimensional storage space; but decided not to, for now. In the vent the cops weren¡¯t coming after him for murder, he wouldn¡¯t want something as petty as shoplifting attracting attention; and when he left, with a shopping cart full of vitamins, a variety of tools, a generator, several gas cans, an O2 bottle¡­ that itself might attract attention. The tablet, while the most important thing he bought, was probably the least noteworthy; and when his long walk finally ended at Charlotte¡¯s motel, he stopped at the front desk¡­ and the old woman smiled as he entered. ¡°Well hello there, young man! I was worried about you, they told me you ended up in the hospital. Everything going alright? That burn looks nasty.¡± ¡°Got mugged¡­ had my revolvers stolen, and the mugger burned me up pretty bad. Just now got em back.¡± He glanced behind him. ¡°I¡¯m worried the thief might have lied to the cops, told em I was a thief myself. It shouldn¡¯t work¡­ a few deputies saw me with the revolver when we killed that dog¡­ but if you wouldn¡¯t mind, I¡¯d appreciate a new key¡­ and a warning if the cops come looking.¡± She chuckled. ¡°This is probably the first time I¡¯ve heard that from someone a deputy asked me to put up for the night¡­ but not the first time I¡¯ve been asked, by a longshot. If they come asking, I¡¯ll tell em you¡¯re in room 213, and I¡¯ll send your room a wake-up call. If they bug me about it later, I¡¯ll just say it slipped my mind.¡± She looked under her desk¡­ and slid out a small plastic card. He was in room 313. ¡°Much appreciated. Got word from the deputy, by the way¡­ Nathan didn¡¯t have any local family, just some folks out in California who we can¡¯t get ahold of, so they were gonna be impounding his car anyway. If you wanted to take the car to his sister¡¯s place, they left an address; and if you could pass on that he passed, and how.¡± She handed him another card; this one with an address in California. California was a big state; but if it was in the northern part, it might not be too far from his original destination. He gave a slow nod. ¡°With the phones being all finicky, and the credit cards going on and off¡­. How¡¯s the internet?¡± ¡°Actually pretty damn good. A few of those Chosen went around and did something to the servers, they been kicking ever since. Password for the wifi is on the table. Cards have been working ever since, too.¡± ¡°Ahh. Then I¡¯d like to pay you for the last couple nights¡­ and I¡¯ll probably head west in a few hours.¡± ¡°Nah. That fuckin dog killed some of my friends at the RV park. You drive safe. Leave the key in the box if I¡¯m not here.¡± *** His only purpose in life at this point might be to kill those fuckers who tried to rob him¡­ but while those particular Chosen were going to die, the others seemed¡­ to have done a decent job. The news had a link directly to a website one of the Chosen had created; ¡®Systempedia¡¯; which detailed what they knew, what they were doing, and how best to deal with things. There was an ETA on their project to ¡®Upgrade¡¯ the cell phone towers, and a mark of which ones already had been; with a warning that animals would be attracted to the enchantment, so if you wanted phones to work in your area¡­ best defend the towers. He saved as much as he could to the tablet, so that he could read it later; there was a database link for exactly that purpose, even android and apple apps¡­ and then headed out to the car he¡¯d be borrowing for the immediate future. Maybe he¡¯d taken out all the witnesses who saw him. Maybe he got the tapes; but maybe not. He didn¡¯t really care if he had to kill everyone in the town, but doubted he could do it and get out alive; and if he died here, Nightfire wouldn¡¯t be punished. *** As he drove west, the first chapter of the tablet was playing like an audi-book, plugged into the lighter on the car to charge as it started on the basics. ~Everyone has a certain amount of mana in them; every living thing. Plant, animal, person, whatever. If it dies, things nearby absorb it¡­ and get better at whatever they do. As the planet gets higher level, people start just absorbing it from the air. Not much, at first, when its only level 1. But in a month, the planet will be level 5; and people can just kick back and do nothing for a year and hit level 5, just breathing. After that, different parts of the world will start having higher concentrations, and things can get bad.~ Easy enough. He was already level 3. He¡¯d be 5 soon enough, he was sure. The interstate was pretty dead; but undoubtedly he¡¯d see some monster or the like he could handle, just driving by. ~What¡¯s gonna get nasty fast are collective organisms, like ants, and bees. At first, the ants will kill other bugs; and its gonna make the whole nest bigger. This has happened to other worlds before, and places that didn¡¯t evolve with magic usually end up the same way; in the first few days, they won¡¯t be too big, and they¡¯ll be killing other bugs. Then normal ants will be so big they start taking out livestock and kids¡­ then they start taking out people. We¡¯ll have momentary crisis at first from a rogue wolf, or badger. Maybe a lion, or some serial killer. But the true armageddon we have to deal with is the ants. If you¡¯re hearing this message; kill every ant nest you fine, down to the queen. They¡¯ll be easier to find, because they aren¡¯t used to being so big. Kill them. Fast. They¡¯ll kill each other, too; but that just means the resulting nests will have bigger, meaner, ants.~Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Huh. That was a problem. But potentially useful, if he had infinite ammo, and could just use an elevated position to harvest ants for levels¡­ ~Just remember. You need to be close to what you kill to get mana from it, and level up. Fighter pilots, snipers¡­ no good. We¡¯re going to be using the abilities the magic grants to start rapidly escalating space development, so we can get a survivable population offworld, just in case. But if you do your part, and go crush an ant queen? We can make it through this.~ Thoughtful of them. Didn¡¯t matter, for his purposes. He skipped to the next chapter. ~Your strength is a pretty basic one; it grows more as it goes higher, but think, at about a 4, you can pick up a hundred kilos, and at a ten, a five hundred.It sounds crazy¡­ but its true. By the time you hit 20, you¡¯ll be tossing cars around. If you swap races, The Orcs and the Minoans are the two with the most of it.~ Well. That was nice. He should swap races, just in case. Might help avoid any¡­ entanglements. ~Endurance is how tough you are. Your average level 5 person has about a 15 on the galactic stage; which is enough that small arms won¡¯t break your bones, but will break the skin. 20 will keep most pistol rounds out of you¡­ and once you get past 30, you¡¯ll need high-caliber rounds, or enchanted ones, to hurt them. If you see any level 20 monsters, don¡¯t go after them with anything but enchanted weapons, or a tank. You need big guns~ The Hands of Death should handle that just fine. And he should be at 19 even if he stayed a human when he hit level 5¡­ so bullet-resistant, not bullet-proof. ~Stamina is how long you can keep running, moving, staying in the fight. If you switch races, this is what you need to be careful of; we average about 15. Most people out there, closer to 5. When it comes to a drawn-out fight or a long pursuit, the other species are astounded at what we¡¯re capable of. All of us set records in distance running at the Chosen academy. If you turn into an Orc, you can hit harder¡­ but you¡¯re gonna be out of the fight pretty damn fast by human standards.~ Well. He¡¯d heard that part before. Nice to know humans were good at something. ~Agility and Mind are fairly interlinked. Agility is how well you control movements, and your instincts, while Mind is how fast you think. These two together make up your reflexes; and while they lag behind us in most respects, Elves have us beat in both of these. The Catfolk do, too, but don¡¯t choose that race. It has complications you don¡¯t want.~ So. An Elf would make for an ideal gunslinger. He should find out why the Catfolk were so maligned. Hopefully the database had an entry for that. ~Power is your ability to use mana-based powers and traits. We suck at that, to be simple, because our species didn¡¯t evolve with the system. If you want to be a wielder of magic, swapping races is a good idea; but please.. We do want there to still be a human race. Think it through carefully before you switch.~ So a base of¡­ 3¡­ was what he had for Power. And that sucked? Good to know. ~If you¡¯ve been looking at your Stats while listening, now you¡¯re wondering about Skills, Abilities, Titles, and Boons. We¡¯ll start off with titles. Chosen have been earning titles and the like from our training. Killing a bunch of creatures of a certain race? Title, usually something like Slayer. Actually makes your weapons and powers better at killing them. Come back from the brink of death a few times? Title, makes you harder to kill. Most of them require repeated application; very few are one-offs, and, I¡¯m sorry, but the Committee has deliberately stacked the deck for us Chosen; of the 10,000 ¡®First X of the planet¡¯ titles, the overwhelming majority of all of them went to us. They all give a benefit, and there¡¯ll be a guide to collecting them if you want.~ He blinked. Well now. That sounded useful. He bookmarked that spot¡­ and skipped ahead. ~Many things give titles when done ten times. Almost die ten times? Harder to kill. The ¡®Slayer¡¯ title ranks up at ten, one hundred, a thousand, a million, and a billion; if you get Slayer V, you do triple damage to members of that species. You also earn credits for titles, though not many. You get similar titles for melee and ranged weapon attacks; though those are a higher threshold.~ He cut it off. Sounded like he needed to kill more humans, to make sure he got the titles, and benefits, for when he dealt with the Chosen. He could also focus on killing plenty of ants, get whatever the ranged weapon titles were; even if he did it from far enough away not to get energy from it, the simple fact that he still got a benefit was worth doing it. If he didn¡¯t kill the queen, he could probably camp out at a nest, kill them for days. He pulled off on the side of the road, thinking. How exactly would you find an ant nest, or any other monsters, in the deserts of west texas? Was he still in texas? He stepped out of the car, stretching, and casually grabbed a protein bar out of the dimensional storage, looking around¡­ and then blinked. He had a whole grocery store delivery in that external storage. He could just grab a case of something he didn¡¯t like¡­ and dump it out as bait. Take out whatever showed up. That would be just perfect. *** He knew he could enter his storage space and look around. He also knew that it was the trailer once pulled by a Semi, bound for a grocery store. What he hadn¡¯t remembered¡­ was that it was laying on its side when he¡¯d done it. When he appeared inside the space, he fell face-first into a giant mess; there was a massive divider near the front of the vehicle, and on one side neatly packaged containers of ice-cream and frozen food were strapped in place; while the rest¡­ piles of boxes all on one side, only with the objects he¡¯d added stacked atop it. He wondered, for a moment, if he could turn it upright¡­ only for it to do so immediately, and abruptly cover himself with the giant pile of food¡­ and for the moment, just lie there beneath it all. Wasn¡¯t this supposed to be some sort of perfectly organized, magical thing? He grumbled¡­ and started sorting through it, case by case; most of them were actually fairly intact; and because the dimensional space only existed while he was interacting with it, fresh. The stuff that had been crushed by the flip¡­ and by the re-flip¡­ he simply pushed out, letting it pile up in the hill he had chosen to pile bait on. By the time he had it organized, he still had a pile of partially crushed containers; and left them be, in case he needed more bait, later. He shook his head, glaring at it. This would¡¯ve been very useful if he¡¯d headed into the wilderness; just grabbing a gallon of orange juice any time he was thirsty, having steak right on hand to grill at a moment¡¯s notice¡­ Ugh. Still. Could come in handy someday. He emerged from the dimensional space, letting out a grunt as he slid down the pile of loose food, smacking into a rock at the bottom¡­ and looked up¡­ with a moment of shock. He¡¯d been hoping for ants. Expecting a monster of some description. What he got¡­ was a raccoon the size of a polar bear¡­ and its friends. They¡¯d been inspecting the pile while he¡¯d been dumping things onto it¡­ and were now all staring at him¡­ and as one, all four of the creatures let out an angry hiss.