II-90Arms Deal

Many claim guns are a coward’s weapons. Many decry the use of firearms and advanced technology, where true nobility lies in using Class and martial skill.

I, coincidentally, have killed a great many people.

And I, coincidentally, rather like guns.

Anyhow. Do remember that there is no second place prize for losing a war, and there is little honor in keeping your people—and yourself by that measure—feeble and unimaginative about alternative possibilities.

-Wei An Wei, The Realmbreaker

II-90
Arms Deal

The answer to whether Kalrus had more guns like the Equalizer left Wei equally dismayed and disappointed. There were prototypes in development, and the rifle itself wasn’t overly hard to make—though it did require an investiture of blood from a certain undying goblin. However, the “Soulkiller” rounds were a harder matter. The concept behind them was “reality.” As in, Earth-anchored reality, where no one had a spirit, there was no Essence, no techniques, magic, or even Aspects.

It was both horrifying and fascinating to Wei, but the construction of the bullets demanded something special as well—alloys sourced from Earth, and that was few and far between. The bulk of such resources were hoarded by the Inheritors or the Lodge. And, interestingly, Wrath was interested in dealing with the latter rather than the former.

Kalrus let slip something about the General having a dispute with one of the Inheritor’s Consuls. Worse, he took offense to the plans they had for America in general.

“General MacArthur is… an ego-driven personality. But that is a single facet: He does not dream of someone else seizing his home and claiming the nation he fought for under their sway. Especially when so many of them have ideals related to socializing their utopia by whatever means necessary.”

Wei didn’t fully understand why socialization was so abhorrent to the General, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he fired the Equalizer a few more times at a few different demon varieties, each of a higher Essence level and from a different Circle. The effects were almost the same each time, but Wei observed some slightly differences when the strongest of the demons were finally slain.

Beast of Sadomasochism: Lv. 125

As the young master’s round burst deep into the scar-coated body of the beast, it let out a gurgling howl that began as a note of rising anger, but choked off to confusion, then genuine terror. Its spirit began to glow like the demon of lust earlier, but the cracks took longer to form, and the resulting sundering became an extended ordeal. The demon struggled for a moment; when it finally came apart, the shards of its Essence dissolved slower as well.

It was because of this slowness that Wei also noted how the Essence was eradicated through a process that resembled decay rather than disintegration. Like it was consumed by something.

“Larger spiritual structures take longer to collapse,” Kalrus explained, reading Wei’s comprehension from the young master’s expression. “Even if all the Fathoms is but glass before the bullet, a glass tower is harder and takes longer to collapse compared to a cup.”

“Indeed,” Wei said. He paused for a beat, considering the limitations. “Can the demons still use their capabilities when the bullet is inside them?”

“To some capacity, though they are rapidly diminished. Moreover, every bit of Essence they channel is not something that can come back. The less the weight—”

“The faster the break,” Wei nodded. It made sense. What didn’t make sense was how Mepheleon allowed such a thing? He was the only one who allowed the Lodge to retain their Earthly metals and materials, allowed Kalrus to construct such a spirit-killing atrocity within the Claimed Hells. But the question was why. The risks posed were far too great for the reward.

Or were they? Wei still didn’t know the Harbinger’s weakness or limitations. And he had to have some, considering how the Inheritors delayed him during the trials.

“Has the Harbinger ever spoken to you?” Wei said, eyeing Kalrus.

The orc frowned. “No. And I hope he never does.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t understand his ways. I cannot read his nature. And that is a terrible position to be in. He allows me to exist. He sees more than most. And he plays a game that I don’t fully comprehend. It isn’t a good thing for the people below when the wildcard and the king are one and the same.”

So, it seemed he and Kalrus were of a similar mind when it came to the Harbinger. “Yes. Though he has aided me substantially… Though I even daresay he favors me, I don’t know what he wants. And it is unnerving. I think he wants me to access Earth. To do something for him. Something that only I might be able to do.”

Kalrus considered Wei’s words for a long moment and then hummed. “Are you done testing the gun? Or would you like to see another one of our test subjects?”

Wei regarded the Equalizer and let out a sigh. The gun itself was decently made, and he knew enough about the bullet to have a guess at what the future might hold. “How long do you estimate it will take to kill a Duke of Hell with this gun?”

“Depends on their Essence. But on average? Two minutes. For Goldskull? Closer to two and a half. The General? Practically three, functionally thirty seconds.”

The details on the General caught Wei off guard. This wasn’t something he would offer someone who was barely an ally. Then, it clicked with Wei. The bullet likely was less fatal for the General than it was for most in the Claimed Hells. It would likely injure him badly—even kill him if it hit the right place—but he could survive the destruction of his spirit without any issue.

“Two minutes,” Wei muttered to himself. “A Duke of Hell can do a great many things in two minutes. Unless they burn a great deal of Essence.”

“Yes. Unless. And perhaps they might already be damaged in some way. By a certain System perhaps.”

Wei narrowed his eyes. “I do recall you saying that I might be able to achieve this assassination without revealing myself at all.”

“That is a likelihood. But nothing is certain in these Claimed Hells. It is a factor of skill, fortune, and equipment. We believe you have the last two factors. The first? That is never promised. But you can affect the variables more than others. Like potentially altering the nature of distance before firing your shot. Or creating a portal. Creativity goes a long way.”

Thoughts flashed through Wei’s mind. He considered using his Harvester to cleave distance and empty his rifle into the Duke’s chest from afar. Or blinking across space to shoot the man somehow. There was potential… But killing Goldskull was going to be an extreme risk. Wei felt how much power the Duke channeled in the beam earlier. The much destruction was more than the young master could easily contend with. Face to face, it would be like facing the Celestial Vanguard again—at the very least.

He couldn’t make a single mistake. He couldn’t slip. He had to fight the perfect fight. Or perform the perfect assassination.

As he was thinking, a message flashed into his perception. “Wei? Are you alright?”

The young master blinked. Agnesia was calling him. This seemed good. She hadn’t indicated her compromise or danger, and now she was asking about him. A slight warmth filled his chest. Why hadn’t Roggi asked him about him yet? Or Rafael? Or some of his other disciples? More people should think about him. He would need to instruct his sect on the matters of caring. “Yes. I am currently trying to resolve matters relating to… You understand. Are you?”

“Yes. I am doing my best to be an annoying shite and get moved back to the gala. I hate this bloody place. I hate the demons. I hate the perfume, and I hate the colors, and I hate what—I saw some of her slaves. I saw what she’s doing to these people while I was “surviving” the uprising. Wei, she’s experimenting on them. Even the children. I—I went through her Garden of Flesh and… we need to kill her. I need to kill her.”

A draconic growl echoed across the message and Wei was slightly taken aback. The amount of energy it would take to overflow into a Class message was—well, Wei wasn’t sure how that would work. Only that Agnesia was increasingly changing on a level beyond her Class. She still needed to Ascend, But the dragon inside her seemed to be maturing faster and faster.

“We will kill her,” Wei replied, trying to lead her away from the thoughts of her needing to do it personally. “As soon as things are settled here, I will have Vendrian take his—”

“I want her,” Agnesia said, pressing the matter. Then, another message followed. “I want to—I know I can’t be here. I know I’m not strong enough to kill her. Not nearly powerful enough for the Duke. But I want it. Ignium, I want to feel her blood running between my fingers so bad. But, Wei, I… When I saw some of the wounds left on her slaves, how they’ve been lengthened to be certain heights and shapes—”

“It was revolting—”

“It was exciting!”

Her breath of bloodlust took Wei off-guard, and made him swallow. Blind heavens, the girl was being tempted by a foul and vile path. He could call it demonic, but they were practically all reaching for Infernal Ascension by this point. Now, he was at an utter loss. What should he say to her? That this was normal? No it really wasn’t. Fighting was exciting. Power was exciting. Mutilated slaves were… not that. It might a problem with her Class, or the dragon. Or maybe her personality, which, he didn’t mind because passion wasn’t always a flaw, and the way she said that just now—

“Focus, fool!” the Shell snapped at him.

Wei nearly jumped, failing to hide a flinch. Kalrus turned, staring at an empty patch of space beside them. “Do you see something?”

The young master opened and closed his mouth. “I thought so. I must have been mistaken. Forgive me. I’ve had a… a few trying months.”

Kalrus studied him for a moment longer, and something told Wei the orc didn’t quite believe him. “Of course. I understand. Now. On the matter of the guns—”

“I am finished for now,” Wei said, placing the Equalizer back in the case. Then, he pulled it out, reloaded the gun, and then put it back again. “Should I just—”

“You should hold on to the case for now,” Kalrus said. “Consider an expression of faith and a starting prototype for an effective partnership.”

Wei used his Omniscience to scour the case itself in detail. If there were any hidden Skills or traps, he couldn’t find them. Still, he was going to have Rafael and even Bishop scan it later. Pulling the case into his Inventory, he followed Kalrus out of the armory, and found most of the soldiers looking at him, their expressions all teeth and grins. They knew something he didn’t.

“Wei?” Agnesia messaged him again.

“I understand,” he sent in haste.

“You do?” she asked, sounding surprised, if unbelieving.

“Ah. Yes. I… I have some impulses too. And things.” Wei winced, thinking of how best to respond.

“A word of advice,” Kalrus said without turning to look at Wei. “When you message, make fewer facial expressions.”

Suddenly, Wei’s face went blank. And then he blushed. “I—ah—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Everyone does it. It takes some practice.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Wei repeatedly, lamely.

Kalrus looked back at Wei for a moment, frowning. “How old are you?”

“Enough,” Wei replied, clearing his throat.

The orc looked down, and something strange passed behind his eyes. “There isn’t an age on war, you know? This thing we’re doing… it doesn’t matter how you feel. Or how I feel. It’s what we need. It’s what the world wants. People have sold guns to boys younger than you. To boys that were barely out of their mother’s womb. I watched them go from scared children, to swinging those AKs around. It didn’t save them. But for a time, they got to decide for someone else as well. Maybe for some, that is enough.”

Wei didn’t really know what to say about that. “What is an AK.”

“It’s a type of rifle. You’ll probably run into it when you get to Earth.”

The two lapsed into silence as they made their way back up to the top of the tower. Meanwhile, Wei messaged Agnesia a few more times, only to find her strangely absent as well. A growing tension built in the pit of his stomach, and a sensation rose. A sensation of cold—

The orc grunted in discomfort and pain. The surface of the elevator thickened with a layer of frost. “What is this,” Kalrus muttered.

Wei’s eyes widened. Distantly, he heard a loud shriek that shook the entire base. Followed by silence. Faint perhaps to all senses of his own, a declaration, an omen.

“The child is dead. But the child will live. I allow you this life, vessel of defiance, for you will serve the means of the Final End. As the father. So the son. Breath, grandchild. Breathe and reap from this life.”

The Hound’s voice faded, and a weak wail of a newborn sounded. The young master let out a breath. “The birth was a success.”

For once, it was Kalrus who was surprised. “How did you know that? You could hear that? Sense that? From here?”

“It was loud. The Hound offered some commentary as well.”

Kalrus’s eyes widened. “You heard the Hound of the Withered Moon? Without suffering decay?”

Wei studied the orc. “I’ve been to the Final End. Would you like to see the place at some point.”

And a look of genuine fear clashed with actual interest on Kalrus’s face. “Perhaps… but not yet. I… am not ready. I need to finish my dream. I must return home first. First.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing an ugly scene of William and the General hurling objects at each other while huge, obsidian armored soldiers held them apart.

“...I’ll say his name again! Ridgeway! Ridgeway! Motherfucking Ridgeway! If you weren’t such a fuck-up in Korea, you wouldn’t be hearing me say Ridgeway!”

MacArthur, meanwhile, simply sneered and threw what looked like a small metal acorn at William. “You like Tin-tits so much? Here? Have a reminder?”

One of the soldiers immediately dove on the object. Bouncing up into the ceiling as it went off beneath them.

Wei and Kalrus blinked as the debacle went on. “It seems their talk went worse than ours.”

“Hm,” the orc shrugged. “I think it is progressing well, overall.”

“How is this well?”

“The General hasn’t threatened your father with a warhead yet. Or called him—”

And then, a loud shout came from the General's lips, and Wei learned a very Earth-bound slur. “Kalrus. What does he mean by Link.”

“My deliberately, incorrect non-answer is that he is likening your father to a height-challenged elf-like warrior who enjoys green tunics, stabbing pigs, and saving princesses.”

“What?”

“There is much you do not understand. And some you shouldn’t.”