The World Which Is, CH 101

Helen and Silver are stunned when we exit the forest with our prisoner. Helen is pissed at Brandon when I let slip he knew well before the bounty hunter struck. It’s petty, I know, but he deserves it.

The story is now that he thought it was something I needed to get out of my system. That he followed me in case I couldn’t deal with it, but didn’t have to help. She takes him away while I secure the prisoner. Then Silver asks if I’m okay.

I know she means well, but fuck am I not in a state to deal with her concern at the moment. My response is probably way more brusque than she deserves, and she leaves me alone.

*

It’s a day to the next village. Our prisoner tries to escape twice. I let Brandon deal with it, because I don’t trust myself not to do something permanent. The second time Brandon drags him back, the prisoner limps. It makes the rest of the trek to the village interesting for him, I’m sure, because we don’t slow down.

We try to hand him over to them, but they aren’t equipped for a prisoner. The worse they have to deal with are fights between drunks or people who disagree about something. Their way to deal with those to basically ‘send them to their rooms’ for the rest of the day to cool off.

It’s three days before he tries another escape. I have an arrow in his knee before he takes four steps, and he’s lucky I didn’t make it a chest shot. I’m not as gentle as I can be taking the arrow out and bandaging the wound. It’s enough Silver takes me aside and this time it’s clear she won’t let me chase her away. Which is fine. I’ve calmed down and I’m ready to talk.

Well, tell her the parts that don’t revolve around me considering cold blooded murder and Brandon stopping me. There I find out I still have a lot to talk about, a lot of anger and frustration.

I really thought that as horrible as killing Xander was, it at least meant the end to this bounty hunter bullshit. But now, I’m still going to have to deal with it. Even once the news of his death makes it to where ever those things are handled, will the bounty hunters already on my trail believe me when I’m kicking their ass telling them there is no money to be made going after me anymore?

I realize that I’m tired.

I’m tired of this adventure. Of not being home. Of this constant worry for me and their safety. Telling myself it’s training for when I’ll be a guard isn’t working anymore. I’ll have down time as a guard. I’ll be able to hang up my armor at the end of the day and just be me, Dennis.

Who ever that is.

She holds me.

I cry.

She isn’t freaked out by it.

*

By the time we reach the town of Vernon, I’ve convinced myself Brandon’s wrong about this addiction thing. I didn’t look at anyone on the team, or our prisoners, or the villagers we met, as a way to gain levels. I didn’t find myself running numbers, thinking of how I can vanish someone with no one noticing. And after three more escape attempts in over slightly two weeks of travels, trust me, if that was a temptation, I’m pretty sure I’d have found a way to make it happen to him.

We hand him over. Brandon checks if the guy’s wanted. He isn’t, which just means we don’t get paid for it. He’ll be held until a Magicster comes to town and uses their magic to determine if the charges of attempting to kill me are true. They don’t need us here for that, so the plan is resting for a few days, then hitting the road again.

It comes as no surprise to any of us that Brandon knows a guy who can host us while we’re here. A retired adventurer barely twice my age. The temptation to comment surfaces, but I remember I’m done after this. So who am I to judge? Also, no surprise to us that Brandon sleeps with him.

I do too.

He also doesn’t freak out when I cry after the sex.

*

My illusions of being fine are shattered the next day. I’m going around the markets, looking to get the best prices for what I have to sell so I can afford my next spell when someone screams ‘thief.’

I’m after the woman before I think if I should leave it for the town guards, and I swear, in that moment, I don’t have ulterior motives.

I catch up to her between two buildings, out of sight. She tries to fight, but she’s not good. I have her against the wall, arm to her throat, and I start running the numbers.

This was barely a fight, so she’s what? Level ten, at most? That’s not even a level, but it’s advancing me toward one. I might even be close enough whatever I get from her will tip me over. She’s a thief, who’s going to miss her? And there’s no one watching. I can hide her body, cut myself and explain I tried to catch her, but she caught me by surprise and escaped.

“They’re here!” Someone yells. “Sir, I’m with the guard. I thank you for your assistance, but I’ll take her now.”

What level is he? How long do I have until more people show up? How can I set this up so others think they killed each other?

“Sir?” the hand is gloved in metal. “I’ll take her now.” There is authority in the tone. That, and the hand, finally pierces through what I’m thinking, and not shoving myself away in disgust is hard.

I step away.

“Thank you for your service…?”

“Dennis, Dennis McLeod.” I shake myself, try to convince myself I wasn’t contemplating murder again, twice, and one of them a guard.

“There’s a reward for her capture. It’s probably not much for someone like you, but if you’ll accompany me, I’ll see to it you get it in full, since you saved us all the work.”

“You take it,” I say, barely masking my disgust at the idea I should be rewarded for what I nearly did.

“That isn’t how it works. The rewards are for those who—”

“Then give it to the needy.” I walk away as more guards arrive, and it’s there. Not running the number, but the knowledge that if there weren’t this many of them, I’d be doing it. That I’m still contemplating taking on guards just to advance myself.

And it seems so reasonable to me it’s terrifying.

How many guards does a quiet town like this need? If a few died trying to apprehend a crook, who’d question it? And It would make me a better guard for when I get back home. I’d be so much better at keeping everyone safe there, if I were higher level.

I head back to Brandon’s friend’s house and don’t leave it for the rest of the day.

*

The next one, I go shopping with Helen, and she helps me get better prices for what I’m selling. I’m almost able to convince myself that’s the reason I did this, and not so the threat of someone able, and willing, to kill me in an instant will keep me from acting on the numbers I can’t keep myself from running.

With her help, I can just afford the next tier of healing spell. One health point healed for six mana. Still not likely I’ll get this high enough to get one for one, but that’s already half the cost of the previous one. Other than the price, I don’t understand why higher spells are dependent on having lower ones first.

Probably just some system bullshit to make our lives difficult.

When Helen decides she’s done shopping and heads to talk with other sorcerers, I hurry back to the house. Brandon’s there, chatting with his friend. He takes one look at me and returns to chatting. Not long after that, his friend offers for us to have sex. I take him up on it.

I don’t cry afterward. I don’t stay in his bed.

Him asleep. Us alone in a room.

What level is he? Planting my sword through his chest ensures instant death. I can talk Brandon and the others into leaving now, before his body’s discovered.

Brandon looks so fucking proud of himself for telling his friend to have sex with me, I could deck him.

Well, try to, anyway.

With him, I can’t get the numbers to turn in my favor.

I am so fucking terrified of ending up alone with Silver.

*

The next day we leave. I don’t have to insist all that hard. We’re all kind of done with being around other people, each of us, for our own reasons. Brandon makes a joke about explorers and adventures, preferring monsters to people. I force myself to laugh with them.

Aren’t I the monster in that joke?

*

Traveling alone is good for one thing. Without constant strangers around me, people who could vanish with hardly anyone noticing, the numbers fade in the background. Enough that by the time we reach St-Louis, I’ve convinced myself I’m fine again. That what happened in Vernon was a fluke. That I have the problem under control now.

That doesn’t even survive encountering the guards at the gate.

It’s a city, so they don’t have the luxury of being gentle in checking to make sure no one brings in stuff they don’t want, or that will cause trouble.

When one of them demands to see out inventories, and Silver doesn’t immediately comply, they go to grab her and I interpose myself. I mean, come on, what was she supposed to do, just dump it there on the ground? It’s not like there’s a way to just ‘show’ what’s in our inventory

I’m already running the numbers. City guards can’t be low level, so I will get a lot out of this. Winning won’t be easy, but so long as he’s the one who starts the fight, I will have to defend myself. Brandon and Helen will side with me. They should be enough of a distraction, I can pull it off. In turn, they’ll be distracted, and we’re going to have to run before the fighting’s done, so no one will be able to tell who’s responsible.

“Come on, ease up,” another guard says. “Sorry about that. It’s been a rough day.”

Can I say something, do something to push the guy over, without it being apparent I did it?

Brandon pulls me away. “Sorry about this, too. It’s been a long trek for us. We have fairly large inventories. Where is your check table?”

“I’ll deal with them,” the nice guard says.

The look Brandon is giving me when I glare at him for keeping me from advancing, sobers me. He knows what I was trying to start, and why.

Going through the check is a pain and leaves me wanting to kill someone. Not to get anything out of it, just to make it end.

I am so fucking glad we didn’t go through this in previous cities.

“Every city’s different,” He says before one of us asks. “Some places don’t give a damn what people bring in—”

“Detroit,” Helen says.

“And others want to know what it is down the grain of sand stuck in your shoe.” He nods to the gate we’re walking away from.

“So,” Silver says, as tired as I feel. “Which of your friend are we staying with?”

He chuckles. “None. We’re going to the Explorer’s club.”

“Where are we staying, then?” Helen asks.

“There’s going to be a hotel near it,” Brandon says, but without his usual confidence. “It’s been a while since I came this way. There’s always one, just don’t remember where in relation to the club.”

The walk is longer than I like. I keep having to stop myself from running the numbers on the people we walk by. It’s all I can do not to go chasing after thieves I notice, or think I notice.

By the time we reach the club, I’m not even sure if I can trust my opinion of the people I see anymore. They all seem to be criminals.

Fuck, if I set foot in Detroit before I get this under control, I am so done.

I don’t notice what the outside looks like, but the inside is like a hotel out of a movie. The lobby is large, with seats and people clustered, talking or reading. Instead of a bar, it’s a welcoming counter. The bar itself is in a room to the side, and what I see of it reminds me of the other clubs. Dark, intimate.

Brandon gives his and my name. The man behind the counter checks them, then hands us a key each. It’s for the same room. Brandon didn’t let me ask for my own room.

“Talk to me,” he says as soon as the door’s closed. “How long and how hard had it been?”

The room’s not as impressive as the lobby. A bed, a chest for if we want to put our stuff away. One chair. He takes it and motions me to the bed.

“I thought I was fine until Vernon. Nearly killed a thief there. Contemplated killing the guard that interrupted that, but came to my senses, somewhat.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t seem to stop running the numbers.”

“And what’s that?”

“It’s evaluating everyone to workout what level they might be. How much work killing them would be, hiding their death, versus what I’d get out of it. You know, running the numbers. They usually come out in my favor.”

“That’s bullshit. There is no way you thought you could get away with killing that guard.”

I chuckle. “Get him to start a fight. He was primed for one already. You and Helen side with me. Other guards join in. It’s utter confusion. You lose track of me. Helen doesn’t know to keep track of me. We need to run away and hide in the wilds. By the time the body’s discovered, it’s impossible for them to be sure who killed him.”

He stares at me. “That’s terrifyingly efficient. I don’t think it would have worked. But that you thought it through?” He can’t seem to find the words.

“Tell me St-Louis isn’t like Detroit. That this place isn’t filled with criminals the way I’ve been seeing it.”

“Nowhere is like Detroit. St-Louis’s on the strict side of thing, but not a bad place, all things considered.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Brandon.”

“Come on, Dennis. It’s just about staying aware of what you’re thinking.”

“You just said how terrifying it sounded. You have no idea what it sounds like in my head. They utter rationality of it.”

“It’s just about training yourself, Dennis. Practice makes perfect and that kind of stuff. You’ll see. There’s way through—”

“How the fuck do you know!”

He doesn’t have an answer. I can see that in his eyes. He’s scared.

“I hope, Dennis. Fuck do I hope. Because if there’s one guy in this whole fucking world who doesn’t deserve this, it’s you. You’re too fucking nice and good and so fucking honorable it’s sickening to be saddled with this. But you are. So I am hoping to the system there’s a way you can deal with it. Because the world needs you, Dennis.”

I snort.

Then I laugh.

I fall off the bed and I laugh even harder.

Somewhere among that, he starts laughing too, but the bastard managed to stay in his chair.

I have tear in my eyes by the time I manage to stop and I can’t tell if they’re from the laughter or…the rest.

“This world needs people like you, Dennis,” he says, fully sobered. “It’s filled with so many assholes like me that it needs good, wholesome people like you to balance us out. Otherwise, I don’t want to think what it’ll look like in a few decades.”

“I’m not that good or wholesome,” I tell him. And he laughs. I don’t have the energy to protest. “I think we need to tell Helen. I need someone else watching for me to lose it.”

“No. She’s already suspecting something. She grilled me about the bounty hunter, about me letting it happen so you’d get stronger for whatever I have planned for you.”

I chuckle. “She got part of it right.”

“Yeah. And she’s already promised that if she even thinks I’m letting you kill someone, she’s going to end both of us, teammates or not.”

“Oh, I am so glad she isn’t as attentive as she thinks she is, then.”

He narrows his eyes.

“What do you think was going through my mind the entire time I was shopping with her in Vernon? I did it so that if I couldn’t stop myself, she would. You noticed what I was planning in the seconds it took me to make it. I was with her for hours, and trust me, I might not have acted on them, but I had a number of plans.”

He nods. “I told you before. You can’t count on anyone else for this.”

“How am I supposed to do it, Brandon? The only thing I can think of is finding a spot in the wild as far from anyone as possible and being one with the monsters there.”

“You will find a way, Dennis.” The certainty in his tone scares me. “I don’t know how, but you are going to figure it out. You are going to finish your quest, and no matter what else happens after that, you will make it back to Court to waste the rest of your life as a guard.”

“Almost.” I chuckle. “That almost worked as a pep talk, but you dropped it there, at the end.”

He shrugs. “Hey. I’m an asshole. I can’t go giving wholesome pep talk. What will people think?”

“That’s there’s hope, Brandon.”

That’s there’s hope for you and me.