Chapter 52

  “So your acceptance into the guild is tentative,” the kid was saying as Lawrence was checking out the SWAG. “First of all, we need to know more about the Murderer title you claim exists and how it happened in your group. What happened to the murderer?”

  “What happened to him was that he got a fifty percent experience debuff, and on top of that I was able to take an additional twenty-five percent from him as the leader in a normal bias. You were the leader of your team, right? You know about the bias mechanic?”

  “Yeah I know. So what happened to the murderer?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you? He was stuck at twenty-five experience gains while the rest of us were above one hundred percent. We didn’t go out of our way to kill him if that’s what you’re worried about. We didn’t have to. The dungeon did it for us. He died on floor six trying to keep up with the rest of us as we fled from zombies. Spoiler alert; he couldn’t because he was level four and the rest of us were level nine,” Lawrence explained, going through the shirts on display. “Why do they all have this weird embroidery?”

  “It’s magic,” Eli explained. “One of our allies can enchant clothes to have certain effect. I’m pretty sure that one makes the shirt resistant to slashing magic.”

  Lawrence nodded and took a knife out of his pocket. Without ceremony he slashed the shirt. To his surprise, the shirt wasn’t cut.

  “Huh, it actually works,” he said. He began checking the pile for shirts in his size.

  “So you said that your party started out with thirty members. That means that one-fifth of your party survived. We need more details on how that happened.”

  “They didn’t listen to me, that’s how,” Lawrence said, finding a shirt that fit him and unceremoniously changing into it. The room was filled with people, but he didn’t really care.

  “There’s a dressing room over there,” Eli said while the man had his shirt off.

  “Don’t really care,” the man said.

  “I meant for when you change your pants. And underwear. Please use it for those,” Eli said.

  “Ah, yeah, okay,” the convict agreed. “So anyway, thing is, my friends, they’re useful idiots like I said. And inviting them to the party was a smart move, because we know that antisocial behavior towards allies is viewed most unfavorably by the system. It told us as much when the one idiot murdered the other idiot and was held on trial by the system itself. But we also know for a fact that it’s less concerned with things like fighting your way out of prison. Or, you know, defending yourself from a home invasion. Even when that home invasion is government sanctioned.”

  “Yeah okay,” Eli said.

  “Why is it that you guys think you have the moral high ground, since you killed those cops, anyway?” Lawrence asked. “Because before the system arrived you were spoiled little rich kids? Is that it?”

  “I wasn’t a drug dealer.”

  “I wasn’t an honor student. I didn’t have a mommy who loved me and a pappy who paid the bills. I had to find some way to buy clothes and food, since there wasn’t anyone around to do that for me.”

  Eli went quiet. “What about the system?”

  “Worse than trying to live with my parents, not that you really give a crap. But yeah, I’m not telling you my life story, brat. I don’t like you that well, and it’s none of your business. Fact is that we’re not friends, I’m not applying to be your friend, and we’re not going to be pals. You’ve built something that I want to be a part of because it’s my best bet for surviving the coming shitstorm. That’s it,” Lawrence stated.

  “Yeah, okay,” Eli said.

  “And don’t get me wrong, I want your guild’s Experience buff, but there’s no reason I can’t trade my Haven Creation Token to the government for a literal get out of jail free card and go somewhere else,” the convict continued. “You need me as much as I need you, and don’t pretend otherwise. And this place needs me too. What are the cowards going to do when you enter the dungeon tomorrow and suddenly they’re without any elites to deal with the elite spawns?”

  “I said okay, okay?” Eli said, growing frustrated. “You’re right, the Haven needs you. It needs your Token, and it needs you team. I’m just worried, okay? You were all in prison for a reason and you’re not even trying to hide it.”

  “Would it be better if we did? You think I don’t know that your boy Miguel is a spook? Or spook adjacent, at least. He just needs to send my picture and name to his government allies and bam, any lies I told you get shot to hell. That’s why I led with the truth,” Lawrence said. He didn’t miss the fact that this conversation was playing out in public, and he didn’t care.

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  But he also wasn’t sharing what some of his party members had been in the clink for. His lengthy prison sentence had been due to several technicalities being applied to him by a moralistic judge who was happy to throw the book at the twenty-one year old banger.

  Bill, for example. Lawrence smiled as he thought of that man, who had been in prison since he was a young man. It was a shame that he wasn’t lying about the system’s method of vengeance against anti-social behavior on party-members and, presumably, guild members as well.

  Because there had been a well kept secret in the prison before the system had been unleashed on the world.

  And that was that Bill was a serial killer.

  Not the typical kind, oh no. He only killed a certain kind of young man. He was convicted on unrelated matters and was set to be released in a few months, but, rumors like that had a way of spreading around in prison.

  And Lawrence had used his ability on Bill in the dungeon to get the truth out of him. It hadn’t even been difficult, the man had been eager to talk with him once the initial break in his wall of silence had happened.

  And that was how Lawrence knew that he was currently speaking with a young man who happened to be Bill’s ideal victim. He was … just right, Lawrence thought.

  Did he have a moral obligation to warn Eli? Maybe.

  But on the other hand, it would solve so many, many problems if the de facto leader of this little Haven were to suddenly turn up dead. He sighed and turned back to Eli.

  “I’m playing you straight, Eli. But I can’t say anything for the men I arrived with. They followed me here because I led them through the dungeon and we escaped prison together, but beyond that they’re basically strangers to me. You should have your boy Miguel do a background check on them, if he still can, before you trust any of them.”

  There. He’d warned the kid, he thought to himself. He picked up the pair of jeans and underwear and went off to the changing room. Anything beyond that was out of his hands.

  Eli watched the man go and sighed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Miguel to have him do as Lawrence had suggested. He wondered if he shouldn’t have done that before he’d actually invited the convicts into the guild, but then again he could just remove them if it became a problem.

  “I do need to see your Status screen to make certain you don’t have that murderer title you were talking about,” Eli said to the closed dressing room door.

  “Righto, right you are,” the man said. “Give me just a minute. Just packing everything in.”

  After a moment, the door opened, but rather than stepping out, the man indicated for the boy to join him. “I’m not flashing this out in public. A man has standards,” he said, nodding towards the gathered crowd.”

  Eli sighed and got into the cubicle with him. The man grinned at how naive the boy was. He pulled up his status screen, proudly displaying his status for the kid.

  “You’re a Reaver?” the kid asked, focusing for a second on his class name. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means that I’m pretty good with an axe,” he answered, understating it significantly. “but you’re supposed to be focused on where my titles specifically does not say ‘murderer.’”

  “It says ‘Drug Dealer – reformed,’” Eli said.

  “Which I’ve already confessed to,” the man said, grinning at the kid. He dismissed the menu and walked out of the cubicle. “Now look, here’s the thing. I’ve laid my cards out on the table. So it’s time for me to see yours. Aside from these fancy knife proof clothes, what exactly do I get for joining Arashantos?”

  Eli sighed and nodded. “You said you use axes, right? Follow me.”

  So they went to the shop, and that’s where Lawrence fell in love with his new best friend. He named the Axe Betsy and started feeling the grooves of the enchantments on her blade.”

  “This one enhances the sharpness, and this one increases the momentum relative to weight. Basically it swings harder than it should given its mass,” the kid was saying.

  “I have a skill that does that already,” Lawrence said. “Think they stack?”

  “Try it out on one of those target dummies,” the kid suggested, and the man blinked over to it and split the dummy in two. He shouldered the axe and thought about it for a second.

  “Yeah, I think they stack,” the man said, while the kid was staring at him dumbfounded. “What? You didn’t think I powered through the dungeon on hard mode by getting carried by my team, did you?”

  The kid blushed and looked away. “No, I never said—”

  “Look, kid, I like you. Honestly, I do. Which is why I’m not even going to try to take the leadership position from you. Nobody would trust me, being an ex-con, and it’s just not worth the hassle,” Lawrence said. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to be fodder, or that I’m not going to demand compensation for my efforts. My time of being a slave to the system are over. You can deal with my friends on their own basis, but if you and I are going to get along, then you need to stand up and look me in the eye and tell me that you respect me as an equal. Can you do that?”

  Eli looked him in the eye. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now then, let’s see what else your crafting buddies have come up with in this weird post-apocalyptic society.”

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