II-128 Dropping By

Sometimes, the solution to your problem will deliver itself to your door. Well, a solution wrapped in the form of a problem, most often.

Let me tell you a story.

One time, I was supposed to escort this guy across a war-torn realm. Real shithole of the world, sub-20 levels of essence. So, everyone there was barely more than just a mundane back at home. Now, everyone there but me. That made me stick out like a sore thumb.

So, you might think this is a milk run, right? No. Sticking out like a sore thumb would eventually get me shot. Because two systems away, there's a guy holding a longbow, and this guy can see across worlds. The moment this guy sees me, he's going to let go of that bow, and there's going to be no more me.

So, I had to mingle with the crowd. I had to find ways to injure myself when I got shot. I had to find ways to react on a human level. It's a real pain in the ass. And let me tell you, I'm not good at selling it. I'm not good at faking injuries.

So, I'm at the end of my rope because we need to push through a battlefield. No easy way to do it. And frankly, part of my skills allow me to outright ignore explosives. Comes with being a grenadier. There's no way I can fake that. I can maybe cut myself open if some shrapnel hits me, but that's nowhere near what's needed if a bomb actually goes off near me.

For a while, I was considering, "You know what? Maybe I should just hide in a convoy. Or hide in a transport." Second problem to that: the guy I'm protecting. Can't let him get killed. The best way to do that? Stay close. So, two conflicting issues working at the same time.

And I find myself sitting there in the safe house with the VIP whimpering and whining and saying all sorts of stuff, offering to pay me more money if I just pushed through right now. Real impatient bastard.

Oh yeah, that leaves me with the third problem. I kind of want to kill the VIP. That's probably a more common problem, though.

But as I'm doing this, a fourth problem presented itself, canceling problem one and amplifying problem two. You see, this little war-torn world? It drew the attention of the Unfallen. For you guys who have faced those miasmic, spewing, post-death, entropy-leaking bastards, you know how much of a shitshow it got to be.

But hey, as soon as their foul, life-quenching gases started spraying all over the world and reaping life everywhere, the Archer couldn't quite see anymore.

And suddenly, the problems got really, really simple.

-The Trespassers’ Compendium

II-128

Dropping By

Wei stared at the amount of aspect-advancement shards available to him. He'd gone on another cleansing spree in the base. There, he had a special rendezvous with several counts of lust that didn't do so well. They tried to entice him, but their skill crashed into his ambition. They failed to entice him, and he quickly discovered that, much like the Collectress, Lust wasn't built for direct combat. Of course, they still had substantial skills, being counts and all, but after a few hits from his scythes, their power levels dropped dramatically. With every cut, he took from them what was theirs and made it his.

And now he was to decide. Did he want to spike his own advancements substantially, or did he want to distribute more to his disciples? The Orc Chef has been making a lot of good food recently, Wei thought. He sat behind the large table that used to belong to Harlan. As he drummed his fingers on it, a window suddenly appeared in his vision as a call came through, a call sent by Rafael.

"He's back," the lich said.

Wei blinked. “What do you mean? Who's back?"

"The Old Man. He's staggered into the front door."

"Into?"

"Yes, he's smashed into it. Very hard. Very fast. The door has vaporized. Many people are screaming outside.”

“I... okay. But why is he back? Didn't we just send him away a few days ago?"

"Yes, but he's walking strange now. Like he's..." Rafael paused, trying to find a good way to phrase this. "...like he's hiding something inside his ass."

Wei’s brain stopped working for a moment. "What?"

"Yes. I have seen that before. Usually, drug mules do this."

"What's a drug mule?"

"It's someone who is hired to hide drugs in their ass."

"Why are they hiding them in their ass?" Wei said. "Why? Why hide it there? I don't understand."

"Because back on our world, drugs are illegal. Sometimes they get searched, and you hide it somewhere where people don't search."

Wei considered being a drug mule. He considered hiding drugs up his own ass. And immediately, he came to the conclusion that he would rather slit his own throat than ever inflict such a deep and miserable humiliation upon himself.

"I'm warning you now because he shot straight past me and Lady Ellena, who was being tremendously unreasonable, and you must tell her that we must continue our great revolution—"

Just as Rafael got there, the doors burst open, and the Old Man staggered through. He stepped twice with his right leg and then once with his left. True to Rafael's words, the Old Man looked like he was on the verge of bursting. His face was a mask characterized by a waterfall of sweat, was severe and dire, like he was on the verge of tears but also sealed with a greater purpose. 

Wei was so startled by the Old Man's appearance that he didn't really respond in time. Instead, he just kind of gawked behind the table. "I, uh... do you have a response for me? You came so suddenly, I didn't make any tea."

The Old Man promptly collapsed against Wei's table and started shuddering. The young master's eyes widened, but no dilation echoes passed over him. This wasn't an attack, or at least it wasn't an obvious attack. But what was this?

"I'm kind of sorry about this, son," the Old Man growled. He sounded like he was trying to pass a large kidney stone. Every muscle on his face was scrunched tight, like he was on the verge of blacking out from absolute agony. “Didn’t mean to drop by like this. But I didn’t really have a choice.”

"It's fine," Wei said, standing slightly. He held out a hand. "Do you require a healer? Are you sick?" Wei looked around, and a worry suddenly took him. "Is it infectious? Are you infectious right now?"

"No, not really. But you might be hoping for that. You might hope for that," the Old Man squeezed his eyes shut tight. "When I show you... when he comes out of me."

"What?" Wei couldn't understand what the Old Man was saying anymore. Everything about him screamed of misery and pain, and the last thing Wei wanted was for the Old Man to drop dead inside his office with no tangible explanation. It would go a long way to lending additional weight to the whole "mysteriously killed higher-tier people who end up around him" situation. But that might just bring the entire weight of the Circle of Pride down upon him. And Wei didn't quite want that. Not quite yet, at least. He immediately summoned his scythe and focused on the Old Man as he channeled Ambition into the Count of Pride. He prepared himself.

"Give me a moment," Wei said, a look of absolute focus sweeping across his face.

Just then, Agnesia emerged at the doorway, her fists clenched and a massive shadow looming behind her. Several golden guards followed, as well as a floating sword with a small infant strapped atop it.

"Wei, what's happening?" Mourning called out. Justice let out a loud squeal.

"I'm not quite sure," Wei said. "I'm about to find out. Old Man, don't worry. I might be able to reap this virus from your very body."

"No, it's not a virus, it's—" The Old Man's voice choked off with a loud cry as his eyes rolled. Suddenly, a muscular, massive, glowing arm pushed through from behind. Wei's eyes widened. Agnesia nearly launched herself back through a wall in sudden horror.

The Old Man let out a loud whimper, and then he promptly folded over as the hand continued twisting its way through. Another hand pushed out, and there came a terrible ripping noise, the sound of flesh being parted and pressed beyond its limits to stretch. Wei felt his stomach recoil as a muscular body, far too large to be hidden inside someone's buttocks, slipped out from inside the Old Man. Despite this, the Old Man's stomach didn't look distended; his body didn't look deformed at all.

Wei didn't understand how any of this worked, but in his mind, he only realized one thing. This was likely magic, essence at play. But why didn't my Omniscience reveal this to me? I should be able to see anything inside of anywhere. Unless... unless it wasn't exactly inside the Old Man. Unless there was something else going on here.

He observed the figure emerging from the Count of Pride, and just then Wei felt the sheer density of power concentrated in this man. He felt heavy, heavier than anyone Wei had ever met before, aside from Mepheleon. Wei knew he'd used "heavy" to describe several people before, but this one felt special. He was practically all Pride, with a little bit of Lust, and more importantly, he glowed. His skin was radiant. His body was a thing of bronze, a sculpted statue displaying the full prowess of human musculature and wearing only a gem-studded longcoat. As he swiveled in place, the Old Man folded over and let out a near-sob of relief.

A strange scene unfolded before Wei. He regarded the man before him, jutting out from the Old Man's rectum. The Old Man now resembled part of a deformed Chimera. And the figure grinned wildly at Wei, his glee and happiness blazing in his eyes.

"Well, well, well. You're the master of the Drowned Sky Sect, are you?" His face was also handsome, though strong of features and, potentially, a little overdone with makeup. His brows were heavy and glistening bright. His eyes were golden. His nose was sharp. His beard, well, that was hard to explain. From one angle, he didn't seem to have a beard, but when Wei looked another way, he had the finest five o'clock shadow there was, carved and cleaved along the edges to be so thin and neat that it looked like a drawing.

"Who are you, and what do you want from us? Why did you come this way? Why did you do this to the Old Man?" Wei had many questions, many questions that the ass-dwelling stranger simply chuckled in response to.

"Ah, the expression on their faces. It never gets old. Listen, it's not as bad as it seems." The man patted the Old Man on the back, and the Count of Pride now doubled over with his head planted against Wei's table, in plight of a rasping breath. The stranger's lower body was still buried deep in the Old Man's asshole. And so, Wei couldn't tell if he was truly human or if there were horrors waiting below, if he was even wearing any pants. The young master's face contorted in a look of absolute disgust.

"Can you come out first? It seems like he's in deep pain. Also, this offends my eyes. Please… stop! Get—get out of his rear!”

"What, the ass play? That's okay. Old Man here loves it. Don't you, Old Man?"

"I love it," the Old Man whimpered. He didn't sound like he loved it. For the first time, Wei felt true and genuine sympathy for the Old Man.

Just then, another person emerged at the door. "All right, Wei. I hope your paperwork is done, and... what the fuck?" Vendrian stared. He stared at the scene before him: of the man half-buried in the Old Man's ass, of Wei with his scythe drawn and his jaw hanging open, with Agnesia looking between the two, absolutely shocked and utterly uncertain about what was about to happen. Slowly, Mourning turned to her brother, and Justice let out a slight cry for his father. Now, Vendrian looked on, aghast and stunned. "This is... uh... this is..."

"It's not what it looks like," Wei said, defending himself immediately. "Whatever it is you seem to think I have done, it's not my fault. It's his," Wei said, pointing at the stranger.

"It is mine," the stranger declared, "but it's not my fault. In fact, I came here specifically to visit all of you. You especially, young master. I've been hearing things about you, running around, killing people, murdering a few dukes. I've also heard..." He leaned forward, and the Old Man started praying for death. There was a wet squelching noise. Wei turned away. He didn't know why it didn't smell bad. He also didn't know why there was no stuff smearing this stranger's body. It seemed like he just dwelled inside of asses but came out clean, like shit didn't stick to him at all.

"You still haven't told me who you are and why you're here. Just come out of the ass first. I can't take you seriously like this."

The man let out a loud laugh and slowly, with deliberate, jerky motions, he pried himself free. Then came a final, resounding pop, and the Old Man let out a shuddering gasp as his legs gave out underneath him.

"Oh, God," the Old Man whimpered. He crashed down, rolling off of Wei's table, and lay on the floor. A loud sigh of relief escaped him as he just stared at the ceiling.

"You're going to be fine, Old Man."

"Yeah, he'll be fine," the stranger said, kicking the Old Man in the knee slightly.

The Old Man clutched his knee. "Yeah, I'm going to be fine," the Old Man moaned. "I'm just going to... I need to lay here for a while. Just let me lay here for a while."

"Well, to make your formal acquaintance," the tall, ass-dwelling stranger said, reaching out a glowing bronze hand. "I, the greatest Prince of Pride, have come down to see the one that's been causing such a stir, and also someone who's apparently the Concept Breaker. Hey, you, are you the new Concept Breaker?"

Wei's eyes narrowed. This was something he wanted to happen, to draw the attention of someone who knew that he was the Concept Breaker, to lure them to the table. Of course, he didn't expect them to arrive hiding in someone else's ass, but this was the Claimed Hells, and by this point, Wei should have expected anything.

"I see. And, wait, did you say Prince of Pride?"

"Yes."

"Then," Wei looked at the Old Man again, at the blood slowly seeping out from behind him, "why? This seems like something Lust might do, or... well, just Lust."

"Uh-uh, not just Lust," he corrected. "You see, Wrath has this guy called Hogarth Manglove."

"What?"

"Hogarth Manglove. He's a Prince of Wrath, see. He fights with people. He has these boxing gloves, right? And these boxing gloves are fashioned from people. So how does this work? He thrusts his hands..." Gradus began to do a live reenactment of how Hogarth Manglove equipped himself. "...up the ass. And as his victims are screaming, it makes him stronger. It makes him a better boxer. He's got big hands, son, real big hands. And you can imagine how miserable it is to lose to the bastard. But of course, if you have the Concept Core of Ass..." He blinked. "There's a concept core of asses?"

Gradus stared at him for a moment, nodding. Wei almost believed it, and then Gradus cracked up laughing. "Ah man, I got you going there for a second. But I don't blame you. Mepheleon's pretty much an anything-goes type of guy. I kind of respect him for it. I, too, am an anything-goes kind of guy. Frankly, I'm an everything-goes kind of guy. That's why I'm here, right? I'll get to the chase. You have something that I want to sample."

"And what's that something?" Wei asked.

"Oh, come on. Just give me a shard. Let me see it. Let me see from the source. I don't want to be buying from people running around the street. If we're going to do drugs, I should buy directly from the chemist. They know how to make it the best. Just like Walter White."

"What is a Walter White?" Wei asked.

"Oh, wow. You don't have any knowledge about the world you're about to take, do you?"

Wei fell silent at that.

"Oh, don't do that. Come on. We both know why you're doing this. You want to be Hell's Vanguard for some ungodly reason. Frankly, the entire thing's stupid anyway. I don't want the trespassers to be coming over, and I certainly don't want much to do with their miserable, little, boring, non-magical world. Other than breaking it, or killing it, or killing everyone on there, of course. But hey, you know, who am I to say? Who am I supposed to be, aside from the illustrious and wonderful Prince of Pride? You can live your life, as long as you don't get in the way of me living mine and all my delicious delights. Tell you what, you give me a shard right now. Any shard. 

“And in exchange, I will offer you a large piece of my significance. Let's say... 25%. That's 25 billion significance. Or give or take, can't quite remember. I usually trade these things like they're nothing at all. But those are nothing at all to me. I have no intention of being significant at all. After all, I'm just a prince and not a king. But that still makes me the greatest."

Wei stared at the Prince of Pride for a long moment, wondering if he had stumbled into a fever dream. And then, as the prince's finger twitched, Wei felt a sudden press inside of him.

The young master twitched back. "What was that?"

"What? What was what?" Greatest's face twisted into a glorious rictus.

Wei frowned. "I felt something press against me."

"Well, I didn't do anything you saw." Greatest held out his hands. "Come on, show me the shards, and I'll show you the significance."

Wei frowned for a moment, and slowly he produced an Aspect Shard, offering it to Greatest. He wasn’t sure about this, but then again, he wasn’t sure about anything when it came to Greatest.

"If you are truly who you say you are..."

Greatest took the shard and immediately applied it to himself in some way. Wei felt a surge of power flow through the Prince of Pride, a thundering of essence.

"Whoa!" Greatest cried out. "That's a good hit. You want to know how long it's been since I got another level? You all want to know how long it's been since I got another little crawly-crawly increase in my aspects?" Greatest let out a breath. "Yeah, that is the hit. Looks like you're the real deal." He immediately sat down on the Old Man. A loud groan sounded. "Alright, you know what? Here, have all of it."

"What?"

"All the Significance," Greatest said. "In fact, you're going to have even more than that. But before we get there, I want to know one thing."

"What thing?" Wei asked. He was entirely on the back foot now, unsure of how to deal with Greatest.

"I want to know what's your deal. Is it all really just revenge, or are you actually just gunning for Mepheleon's position?"