Chapter 94

Skylounge, Glenn Hotel, Atlanta - 10:29 AM

The thugs looked at each other, still hesitating as I bore down on them. I walked in a small circle in the middle of theirs, eying them from behind my metal mask as I casually spun the Writhing Belt Whip. Some flinched at the eye contact, others flinched as if I were about to attack, but then I heard a voice.

“Let our new friend through, men.”

That seemed to snap them out of the stupor I had put them in. They were hesitant at first as they struggled with themselves, but soon I had a clear path to Jacob Branson’s desk and I stalked past them. With a flick of my wrist, I hooked a nearby chair with the Writhing Belt Whip and pulled it close. I snagged it, shifted it, and then stepped atop it so I could sit on the chair’s back just as I had earlier.

“Jacob Branson,” I said amicably before looking towards his bodyguard. “Jamie Summers.”

She snorted, but Jacob shook his head. “I find myself at a disadvantage that I don’t particularly enjoy, stranger,” he said. His hands opened as he spoke, and he gestured with almost every move. “You know who we are, but we haven’t the slightest clue who you are. Care to enlighten us?”

“You wouldn’t know as I’m new in town,” I replied airily. “I’m making a name for myself, you see. You may call me the Warmonger.”

Now it was Jacob’s turn to snort. “Warmonger, huh?” he repeated. “So you’re, what? Some kind of vigilante or something?”

“Of course not,” I said as I waved him off. “That would require me to have some sort of alter ego. But I’m Warmonger by day, also Warmonger by night. What you see is what you get.”

“Uh huh.” Jacob’s fingers tapped against the desk as he was thinking. His head tilted back towards Jamie, though he didn’t take his eyes off of me. “So, why didn’t you jump in?”

“We’ll discuss it later,” she replied in a quick, clipped voice.

“Discuss it later? But I’m asking about it now.”

I glanced at Jamie to see her roll her eyes. “I didn’t jump in because that’s not what you pay me for.”

That caused Jacob to look her way. “Kicking the shit out of people is what I pay you for, Ms. Summers.”

“Yes, you pay for me to win,” she answered.

The loan shark narrowed his eyes. “Are you implying that-“

“Yes.”

He shook his head, clearly taken aback. “This clown?”

“I prefer jester to clown,” I interrupted. “They can get away with so much more than clowns can. Some even have the keys to the castle. I’m honored, though, that Atlanta’s very own Goddess of War thinks so highly of me.”

“Goddess of War,” she repeated, trying it out. “I don’t mind it. Should get paid more, if that nickname sticks.”

“Oh, it will,” I replied. “And you should.”

“Uh huh,” Jacob responded slowly, still staring at Jamie. She ignored him as she looked me over.

Jamie Summers was one of Atlanta’s MVPs. Not from the Goblin gang scenario, but another one featuring a trickster in a part of the city further south. Twelve years as a marine and fresh back from overseas had seen her in a particularly good spot to survive in the monster apocalypse. Not without her own ordeals, of course, but well trained.

She not only had training and experience from her time in the military, but also from her class. She didn’t have anything flashy or overly huge, instead focusing on clean precision and brutal efficiency. The class she had earned herself was Weapon Master, one that was rare and only offered to those who were beyond competent in several different implements of war. The only abilities she received were Mastery abilities.

It started off simple: Slashing Weapon Mastery, Shield Mastery, Firearm Mastery, amongst others. The more she pumped into them, the deeper it went. Dagger Mastery, Pistol Mastery, Sword Mastery. And then even deeper as she specialized. Ka-Bar Mastery, Longsword Mastery, Sig P320-M18 Mastery. The part that made the class so powerful was that everything pushed towards accuracy and damage. In addition to great battle sense, her output was absurd with the weapons she chose to specialize in.

She had been a great teacher and competitor in the past. Pulling her away from Jacob Branson wasn’t difficult, but it was costly and the unfortunate name of the game from here on was frugality.

“Like I said, Mr. Branson, we’ll discuss it later,” she said in a tone that made it certain that now was not the time.

“Alright, we’ll discuss it later,” Jacob relented before turning back to me. A smile was plastered to his face, but I could tell that it was strained. He did not like it when he didn’t have control of a situation nor did he care for being told no. “So, you’re here for Howard?”

“I am,” I confirmed, crossing my legs. A groan of dissatisfaction came from behind Jacob, and I glanced back to see the musician fiddling with her guitar, a look of confusion and frustration on her face. “And I’m really just stopping to chat as a friendly new neighbor. Ask for a cup of sugar and whatnot, except what I’m looking for is a 28 year old layabout with a penchant for gambling and fleeing for his life.”

“And what, if I may ask, do you need someone so useless for?”

“I’m entering the Chaos Cup. I want him to be my manager,” I said. “How about it, Howard, want to get out of here and be placed in a safe hotel room or manager’s suite at Merder Stadium?”

The man began to shake and nod. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned, but his enthusiasm was loud and clear.

“And that just about covers that,” I said, standing up on the chair.

“Howard the Coward, a manager?” Jacob asked before laughing. “Okay, now that’s funny. So someone on your team knows him or something and sends you after him?”

“No, it’s just me,” I replied, holding my arms out. “All that you see is the team that I’ll be.”

Jacob laughed a little harder as if I had just made some great joke. His laughter died slowly as he continued to watch me with my arms out, looking down on him. “Wait,” he said. “You’re serious? You’re acting alone?”

“Of course I’m serious, what about my mannerisms implied otherwise?” I asked cheekily. Glancing at Jamie, I chuckled. “Your boss is a bit dense, ain’t he? Did he even see what I did to his goons?” To make my point, I put my foot on the back of the chair and leaned backwards. The chair tumbled to the floor, putting me a little closer to the men who were still watching warily, and I heard a few of them jump.

“Anything I say would be disparaging my employer, and I can’t be doing that,” Jamie responded, trying but failing to hide a smirk.

“Oh, but it’s so much fun to put down Jacob Branson. You should try it before you figure out that he’s not going to be able to pay you what you’ve asked for.”

“You sound so sure of yourself, what makes you think that he’s going to come up short?”

“A Branson never comes up short,” Jacob scoffed. “And I don’t like where this conversation’s going.”

“You didn’t like where this conversation started, either, but here we are,” I retorted. “But that’s okay. I’ve gotten a measure of your MVP, she’s gotten a measure of me, so all that’s left is for me to be on my way with Howard and prepare to go mono a teamo with Jamie, here.”

“My team against just you?” Jamie asked. “I’ll keep an eye out for you, specifically, then.”

“It’s a date, then,” I said with a bow and a wink. “Your team’s one of the ones near the top of my list, so I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Near the top?” Jamie asked, arching an eyebrow. “Are you expecting someone more dangerous than me?”

“Well, I’m going to be there, for one,” I chuckled. “But your team, provided by this guy here, aren’t exactly up to the standards that you set, now, are they? I’m very excited to meet you, specifically, on the field of battle, but your baggage could get lost by the airline for all that they matter.”

Jamie hesitated before shaking her head. “I suppose we’ll just have to see when things kick off this evening. I’ll admit, I’m excited, too.”

“I suppose we will,” Jacob interjected, giving the table a heavy rapping with his knuckles. “Can’t fight him, but you can flirt with him? Whatever, go ahead and take Howard and get out of here. Just don’t damage anything else on your way out.”

“Of course I won’t. I’m Warmonger, not a frat boy,” I said with a scoff. “Besides, all of this damage could have been avoided if you weren’t trying to figure out the best way to fix matches and stayed in the safe zone like good, law abiding citizens of the system.”

“Hey, that’s-“

“None of my concern, and I’m not bothered by it,” I assured as I walked towards Howard. They had tied him up with a single long chain that hung from the ceiling. “Please, make things as difficult for me as you possibly can. I’m here to win, and I’m hoping that you’re capable of challenging me.”

I jumped onto a table near Howard and shimmied the tow hook they had used to keep him up there. Howard screamed into the gag as he fell a few inches, but I grabbed him and turned him so that his head was facing the sky and his feet were facing the ground as was intended. He looked nearly ready to cry.

My eyes shifted to Jacob, who was now red in the face. “For your sake, Branson, I hope you can provide the challenge I’m looking for. I’m holding you accountable for how the Chaos Cup goes, after all,” I told him in as dark a tone as I could muster. He looked taken aback by my proclamation, but I was already looking around at the others. “And to everyone else, especially Ms. Summers, a very fine day. Enjoy the games and, don’t forget, the battle royale does start soon. See ya!”

Giving them all a quick, snappy salute, I jumped off of the balcony with Howard in my arms. He began screaming in earnest now, the gag doing very little to keep his shrieks from echoing between the buildings. I had to give it to him, the man certainly had a hearty pair of lungs.

His fear was unfounded, though there was no way for him to know it at the time. My Parachute Pants of Agility had a passive just for this, after all. Slow Fall activated almost immediately as we fell down the ten story building. Ten feet per second was roughly as fast as the average person could run, being somewhere between six and seven miles per hour, and was absolutely no issue on landing.

That did not stop Howard from continuing to screech as we hit the ground, however.

Tucking him under my arm, I looked up at the goons who had come to watch me fall to my death over the balcony and gave them another, even snappier salute before wheeling towards the Sapphire Deck parking garage.

[[Patron Quest Complete!]]

Good work, Anthony!

Hopefully this guy is able to get you exactly what you want out of Atlanta. I’ll be keeping a lookout for you, too, so continue being safe now that you’ve pissed off Jacob Branson and flirted with his mercenary, apparently? Was that even flirting?

Reward: +500 points, +340 points.

“If it was, it was barely flirting,” I chuckled as I swiped away the notification. “Thanks for the quest.”

Once we were safely out of sight of the Glenn Hotel, I set Howard on his feet and began removing his chains. He made it easy as he was rather catatonic from the fall, his mouth wide open from screaming when I finally removed the gag. I tucked that into one of his pockets, but tossed the chain and hook into my inventory.

Now that I could finally get a good look at him, I took a few steps back and did just that. Howard’s dark hair was matted with sweat, as was his blue sweater that had gotten incredibly rumpled thanks to his situation. The pupils of his eyes were dilated as they stared right through me, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t decide if he should keep screaming.

He was of no use to me this way, so I reached up and flicked him in the nose.

His hands flew up to protect his face, and his eyes finally focused on me. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice muffled as he refused to remove his hands.

“Just had to wake you up, you see. You were quite still, after all.” I held out my hand. “The Warmonger, at your service. You’re welcome for the dashing heroics and exciting escape. I take payment in the form of managerial duties.”

Howard squinted at me as I spoke. “You don’t make a lot of sense, man.”

“So I’ve been told but I don’t see it, personally,” I said jovially. “The world’s the one that doesn’t make sense, not me.”

“Oh, boy,” Howard breathed. He looked down at my still proffered hand, but didn’t take it. “That’s not a binding handshake or anything, right? Like, if I shake your hand, I’m one hundred percent your manager? Because, I’ll be honest, I have some reservations right now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very, very happy to be out of there and right side up but I’m also not the kind of guy to just jump into something without thinking it over. But, you must have already known that because you came looking for me specifically. Do I know you? I mean, you’re the Warmonger, you said that, but do I know the actual you?”

“I’ve also heard you’re a bit of a rambler,” I chuckled. “It’s not a binding handshake, but I know you’ll accept my offer anyway. And, I do know you, but you don’t know me. I’m here because I want to make a lot of points and I want to make them very quickly. You’re quite the gambler, but that’s not your real vice, is it, Howard?”

“I’d say it’s grabbed me by the balls a few times,” he hesitantly replied. He did, however, take my hand and gave it a limp shake.

I spun him around and put my hand on his back, marching him towards Merder Stadium. “Some people think you have a gambling problem, Howard. Well, quite a few people. Well, a lot of people. Most of the people you know, actually.”

“Can you get on with the point?” he asked nervously.

“It’s not gambling that you like, Howard, it’s winning,” I told him. “And I’m here to make sure that we both win big. Big enough, for instance, that Jacob Branson could never bother you again.”

That got me his full attention, and I explained on the way.