CHAPTER 40: Mr. Solo Dolo...
I took off at a leisurely jog in my socks, keeping an eye out on the fallen monsters as I ran. I wanted to make sure no loot was missed, and hopefully find some more boots.
I wonder if my Makeshift Guru profession would allow me to make magical boots from a pair of old boots if I just add shit onto them? I would have to try it when I got to town. There were some old boots at my parents house but my dad’s feet were a bit smaller than mine. The only pair that fit me were his old converse that he had as a teen. I had to take them off because they didn’t hold up with the boosted stats well and I didn’t want to destroy my father’s shoes, they were the only thing he showed me from when he was that young.
I had no other information on that time period of his life, just that he had some dope forest green converse that were badly faded, that’s it. Honestly, if they weren’t ripped up by a couple of dickhead dogs, I don’t think my own boots would have fit anymore due to my, slight growth.
I passed the area where I did my Spinaroonie to kill the demons and the others must have looted the bodies on their way up the mountain.
I pushed my pace to a light run reaching the bottom of the mountain within the hour or close to it. A few Spriggans hopped out into the road and I made quick work of them while testing my new flail out.
The shredding damage was pretty intense to behold, I could see how it would make a complete mess of a monster not made out of sticks. It even made a mess out of the stick monsters.
Wherever I struck with Inertia the bark ripped apart like an oversize cheese grater was wrenched across the wooden men. At the end of the flail are 3 dark chains, each is attached to a sharp glassy onyx stone that looked like obsidian only the stones definitely weren’t fragile.
I was happy to be seeing less of the Spriggans lately but I think that was just due to my time in the dungeon. I was assuming they were so common because it is the green mountain state after all, and whatever in the universe controls the creation of these monsters obviously likes to make them match the area they’re located in. Whether its stick guys in the woods, ghosts in once “haunted areas”, or zombie-like creatures in populated areas.
Maybe I was just overthinking it. Maybe it’s just luck of the draw. I’m sure I’ll find out someday. I don’t plan on sitting pretty in a safe zone and staying here. Not after everything I’ve seen.
If I survive tonight, maybe I’ll take a short break to level up my professions and weapon proficiency, but the plan is still a go.
I’ll make every motherfucker who took part in this pay, at least until I die.
It’s for Bell, for the family picture I hold in my wallet, for every man, woman, and child taken by Maldrix and her fucking leeches, for Jim’s fiance and for Jim. For the 7 Billion lost souls, they WILL fucking pay.
I cut into the woods with a burst of speed and ran to Glastenbury.
As soon as I passed the safe zone town line I stopped running and pulled up my notifications.
I felt the experience burst into my core as soon as I crossed that imaginary line, it was just enough for another level up, but first, I took a moment to read over everything I missed. Tons of kill notices, level up notifications, the quest updates and a new type of notification that I had to mentally accept.
[Quest Reward! 1 Random Epic Tier Item—*Click To Reveal!*]
[Check Inventory For Reward! (If your inventory is full step backwards now and HEADS UP!)]
What the fuck with the run around? I closed my notifications and opened my inventory. The item instantly caught my eye, it sort of felt deliberate in a way. I wasn’t complaining but it was a set of gloves. Of course I would get gloves when I need boots.
Puck’s Leather Gloves
Epic
10 Armor
10% Increased Attack Speed
+15% Accuracy Bonus
+5 Intelligence
+13% Dark Resistance
+13% Fire Resistance
Allows Wearer to change the shape of their hands at will.
Be a Goodfellow…
What the hell does that mean? Be a Goodfellow? I think I’m missing the reference, but I did like the name of the gloves as Puck was something I called Arthur quite a bit. Plus, change the shape of your hands at will? Like grow my hands or change into different type of hands?
I equipped the gloves and thought about my hands being bigger, I held them up and they were indeed the same shape but much bigger. I thought about having a long finger and, Ta-da.
“I’m not sure what this will help with but I’m sure it will somehow help at some point.”
I wonder if the others were able to select this beforehand or if they’re just getting the notification for it now since I entered the zone. The same glaring notification popped up in my HUD that I received upon entering the first safe zone.
[Please, name your Safe Zone upon reading.]
“Fuck… I hate naming shit. It can wait, I need to get going.”
I attempted to pull up the page to name Ava and Mom Mayors but the damn notification to name the zone wouldn’t let me pass. I tried to minimize the notification. Nope, it wouldn’t let me. I had no good names or words floating around in my head, they were all anger or curse words. The words that first came to mind were revenge, vengeance, but I didn’t want anyone to see the name and not enter. Then a new word came to mind and I just entered it.
“Fuck it.”
[Reprisal]
[Safe Zone Regulations and Information:
Enemy Spawning, Generation, Transformation, and Mutation, Systematically Suppressed.
You may designate up to Two Mayors per Safe Zone
Safe Zone may shelter as many people as you allow up to 5,000
+15% Physical Damage Reduction inside Safe Zone
+10% Magical Damage Reduction inside Safe Zone
+10% Trap Damage inside Safe Zone (Friendly Only)
Option to be notified when sapient life enters Safe Zone— Reprisal]
This one was a bit different. It allowed many more people to come in and had the magical damage reduction as well.
“Good. Alright gotta go, now.”
I entered my mayoral page and selected Ava and Evelyne to be Mayors from my list of past party members then turned around and set off at a sprint to make up the time.
I removed my atlatl, as I closed on town. It was time to get more practice in.
As I stepped into town it was completely silent.
When we reached the first town outside Cuttingsville it was loud, noises echoed from every direction. Even Manchester, which was a much smaller town, was still bustling with activity when we entered.
I was technically already on Main Street when I first entered town, so all I had to do was stay straight for 3 miles then I would be in the historic district on the other side of town, one right when I get there and I’ll be at the Monument.
I stopped off at a few homes on my way through, looking for boots.
The homes I entered were filled with gore. It was a much more grisly scene than the homes up north that were mostly empty of bodies.
On the fifth house I finally found a pair of shoes that would fit.
A new pair of Reebok high tops. The whitest shoes I had ever seen.
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I retied the laces so the shoes to fit my feet better and decided to do the parallel thing I did with my bulky DC’s when I was a kid, “Who would buy this shit? White sneakers. Never a good idea.” I tried buying a white and blue pair one time. I felt the need to tip toe everywhere. I stubbed my toe in the grass early on the second day wearing them and that was it. Never again I told myself. These shoes are about to turn a very different color, and it ain’t grassy green and dirty brown.
I left the house of horror and continued down main street. I felt like I was in one of those old Spaghetti westerns heading for a shoot out.
I rounded the turn to the core section of Main Street, a place known as The Four Corners in the distance. The once busy street was now, almost, completely empty. All of the businesses lining both sides of the stretch were shattered remnants of what once was.
Almost empty. At the end of the road I saw a man running in the opposite direction. He must have heard me because he stopped not a second after I noticed him. He stood in the center of the road in the middle of the big white piano compass the town painted years back.
I took off at a jog seeing that same fucking smile that I hate light up, “You motherfucker!”
“Come on now! I didn’t fuck her! I just wanted to play with her a bit!”
He removed a pair of hand scythes dripping with poison and his shitty scrap armor was summoned.
I ran faster.
He stood ready to attack.
I summoned my armor as I mashed the acceleration button crashing into his form, and sending him flying back through the busted glass door to the bank.
He scored a hit on me and it must have been a pretty strong poison as I watched my health start to decline rapidly.
I removed one of Brenden’s antidotes and downed it as Josh stood up from the glass, mostly unharmed but out of breath from the blow.
“What the fuck happened to you! I know you were always a shit head but this?! This is fucking evil!”
“Oh fuck you! Not everyone had the perfect little family and got out of here!”
“Out of where? What are you still 16 dreaming of leaving your home town? No one held you back but yourself! You’re a grown fuckin’ man! Now you’re going to take some accountability!”
This angered him and he ran at me, he was faster than anticipated but still slow compared to me.
Sure, I made him mad, but he also made me mad.
I summoned Blood Lust.
We went back and forth, he struck out with the same wild combos he used to throw when getting into fights, I deflected each blow, letting Blood Lust lightly drag over his skin. If he wants to play the slow kill game then I would gladly play with him.
He threw 2 shots too close together which left his mid section wide open and I made him pay for it.
I slid Blood Lust back and forth leaving 3 gashes, as I changed grip twice between the blows showing my dominance.
My blade scoring hits. The first just under his neck, then a long gash from one side of his waist to the other between his armor, then the armor joint of his left armpit.
One of the scratches caused the Bleed debuff to take effect as a geyser of blood shot out from his mid section, covering my new white shoes with a bloody mess.
He screamed in surprise, “Ah! You fucker, I’ll kill your whole fucking family and that stupid fucking dog!”
“Wrong choice of words. Good bye Josh.”
As he rushed me in a frenzy he left himself wide open for the last time. I stabbed him 3 times in the chest with Blood Lust then slit the side of his throat so deep that his head flopped to the side, his muscles unable to hold it in place as it hung off upside down, the top of his skull touching his left shoulder. Blood erupted from multiple stab wounds and his neck like a Tarantino movie on crack.
He somehow didn’t die instantly as his health stayed at the smallest sliver, even with the bleed effect. He had a healing potion in his hands, and was attempting to splash it into his neck hole.
I swiped Blood Lust down and as I struck toward his hand. Conviction appeared slicing the arm off at the elbow. I quickly followed it up by cutting his other arm off, then removing both legs. All within a second.
He was dead dead now.
I stored my blade and moved to leave but paused when I noticed his body glowing.
He must have had something that allowed him to take a lethal hit and survive for so long afterward. That’s the only thing that makes sense.
It could be useful.
No, I refuse to loot a human.
That’s too much, even though I balk at calling him a human. He was trash and he will remain here to remind everyone what happens to trash.
As I walked away my heart started thumping fast, faster than it did during any of the fights. I felt like it might blow up in my chest any second. I took a seat on some benches where we all used to meet up with friends, “The Spot.”
Emotions, memories, both flooded my mind.
My breaths grew heavier and more rapid.
I slapped myself in the face, “No! Not the time! Shut it back down. NOW!”
All of this shit was new with the collapse, but I guess it’s expected one may suffer a panic disorder at the end of the world.
My breathing evened out and slowed down.
“It will get better. That’s what I’m fighting for.”
I took one more deep breath as I stood back to my feet turning west toward the old district.
The silence was replaced, a new haunting hymn of screams rattled through the air, disrupting the Mana around me. This melody was much slower and held hard dissonance throughout.
It was less song, more creepy movie vibe. This song had to be powering a fear spell of some sort. I felt it cover my body as the desire to run back crossed my mind.
I removed Conviction’s Claw again, feeling the Mana from the spell siphoning into my blade as my head cleared up. I smiled and inspected my favorite sword yet again.
Conviction’s Claw
Unique—Growth Item
3 Sockets—2 Empty Sockets
+47 Slashing and Piercing Damage
+32 Lightning Damage
+24 Dark Damage
20% Decreased Mana Cost for Spells
+27% Chance to Shock
+6% Life Steal
+8% Mana Steal
Blade Absorbs Emotional Debuffs to Empower Elemental Damage - +5 Elemental Damage Per Element for Each Absorbed Debuff.
Grants Spell—Arcing Thorn Whip (Lightning/Physical)—Merged Spell—Level 6—Mana Cost: 15—Adds 40% Damage to attack, 25% Chance to Shock—Your blade arcs out like a whip shocking and slicing through enemies.
Grants Spell—Fear’s Torment (Hell)—Aura—Level 3—Decrease Enemy Will 25% Within Aura. +4 Strength, +4 Vitality for every enemy suffering from Fear effect (Stacking Buff lasts 5 minutes after enemies death)—Torment your Foes, shattering resolve while feasting upon their worst fears.
Weapon Title—Remembrance—This blade was forged from the Tail of the Guardian Lily and the hand of those who felt they owed their lives. Weapon grows stronger with every life saved.
“Dang, you grew a bit huh. I guess you’ll be staying out this entire time. I need to work on my dual wielding anyways. The massive stat boosts help me with being ambidextrous but not enough to swing the flail usefully. I’d probably slap myself with the damn thing. Time for a training montage after getting Dad. I’m sure he will be able to help me out.”
I passed through a cemetery alongside the little museum, watching out for any incorporeal enemies since I was getting closer and couldn’t hear much over the suffering screams.
I tossed the claw to my left hand and summoned Wrath then awkwardly loaded a Javelin to keep it ready. I figured if there’s another gang of enemies up there around him then I’ll at least take out out with a good throw then move to the sword and let it fly.
As I passed through the cemetery I heard a voice from the past and froze mid step.
“Hey Snort-wart.”
I turned to see a ghost impersonating my grandfather who passed away a decade ago.
“No!” I moved toward him, pointing my sword at the specter.
“Calm down. Jesus Fucking Christ. Sorry you got my hot head. I’m not a fucking monster.”
I froze again just before swinging my blade at the apparition, “Grampa?”
He smiled, “Well yeah. I’m not your Grandmother.”
He was a younger version then I remember at the end, but every detail was the same. My grandfather was at every match, every game, he was always there. Along with my father, he showed me how a man should act and treat others, even if he didn’t do it on purpose and even though it took a long while to set in.
Finally a tag came up.
[Ralph Weston]
[Native Echo Spirit]
I was still unsure on the situation but I fought back the tears and kept it together for once, “Well shit... Hey Gramps. Why are you here, and how?”
“I don’t know. Something happened. I was resting with your Grandmother and something called me here. I just appeared and saw you.”
I was more confused than ever. Was this system fucking with me or did it bring my Grandfather’s ghost here for some reason? Was it the system that did it or just random bullshit?
“Well, sorry. No one should have to see what this world has changed into.”
He shook his head and smiled, the same smile that I used to get when I fucked something up or said something stupid, “No Rick, don’t you go sayin’ sorry for shit. I somehow know what you’ve been through and you’ve done your part.”
I didn’t know how to feel, gloomy and morose, or proud?
“I feel like something is trying to pull me back, so I want to be quick. Leave your father, go back to the safe area and live your life, you don’t have to go around killing everything. It’s what your father would want.”
“That’s not what I want. I’m sorry but it’s not happening Gramps.”
“I know kid. You were the most stubborn little shit, Ha! Still are I s’pose. Go get um. Use your head, don’t lose it no matter what. Keep that rage under control. Use it. It’s your greatest weapon.” He reached out and pointed at my sternum, I thought he was pointing at my heart but I’m pretty sure he was pointing at something else.
Is there actually some sort of core inside of me?
Am I like those cultivators I read about in books or is it more metaphorical? I always assumed it was the latter.
I choked all emotion down with one deep breath, “I will.”
He waved, “See ya kid.”
“Wait! Heaven, is she okay?!”
He disappeared, “What the FUCK!”
I exited the cemetery, hopping over the fence to land in the road.
I took a right, a few feet in front of me was an old copper statue of a Catamount lying on its side next to its pedestal.
At the end of the road atop the hill was the Battle Monument.
Between me and the monument were scores of mutations, demons, and undead.
“Fuck me…”