Double-Blind CH107

<01:03:56>

It was aggravating that the advancement had come so late. I was positive I’d received more than enough experience from Ebryli’s Trial to push me well into the ninth level, if not enough to eclipse it entirely. And almost ever since then I’d been in some form of conflict, dispatching enough monsters alone that it felt like I should have reached ten some time ago.

There were some theories that tracked. The reduced experience being an effort to curtail power-leveling prime among them.

The transposition was objective-based. If fighting monsters during the transposition gave the same amount of experience as fighting them outside the event or in a dungeon, the situation would drastically favor Users who could effectively fuck off and spend the duration fighting monster after monster, while the rest of us scrambled to collect lux and protect our loved ones.

That the system was enforcing such measures should have been a relief. Only, I’d just leveled from killing three Users. Maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe I was teetering on the edge of level ten for a while and anything would have pushed me over, but I doubted it. It seemed far more likely that whatever limiter was mitigating XP gain for monsters wasn’t in effect for Users.

Most people wouldn’t realize that immediately. And even if they did catch on, there was too much chaos for the average User to capitalize on that knowledge without simultaneously drawing a big red X on their back.

Word would spread, however. Every User who’d been ignoring the system would be panicking, playing catch-up. And if—No, not if, when—there was another transposition, or large-scale event?

It would be far uglier the second time around.

I looked up from the scrolling text to find that the procession of incoming headlights had grown even longer. My first instinct was to run. Not to escape, necessarily. More to buy time, give me a few extra moments to make ensure whatever I selected for the level was the best possible choice. These neighborhood streets were cramped. An endless sprawl of compact suburbia. If I was in top condition, leaping a never-ending series of fences until I found one of the main outlets might have been a viable strategy to escape.

Gingerly, I leaned from side to side, testing my body. I winced as a hundred different parts of me screamed out at once. My litany of wounds from the scuffle with Mantle had scabbed over but still felt sore and hollow, like lingering internal trauma.

With the way I was feeling, I’d be lucky to make it over once fence. And probably wouldn’t make it back.

Hiding was an option. The sun had set, and the streetlights didn’t offer much illumination. But again, my mobility was limited. If they had someone who could see through stealth, I was screwed.

Talking my way out of it, bluffing the way I had with Roderick, seemed even more unlikely. The only reason I’d been able to sell it in the first place was that Roderick’s Guild was already decimated and unprepared. They didn’t want a fight.

This current situation was different. I’d already drawn first blood. They’d be coming in hot, at the tail-end of the longest day any of us had ever had, operating on the assumption that they were about to clash with a thief on a murder spree.

The only alternative was doing this the hard way. And I wasn’t sure I had that in me. Even on a good day.

I handed Talia the bag of Lux. “Can you read?”

“What?” Talia asked. “Of course I can read.”

“Start making your way through the yards. Get to a main road. You’re looking for a blue sign that says 35E. Take that road and head south. Keep me updated on where you are, and I’ll come to you when I’m clear.”

Talia—who’d been facing down the incoming Users like she was ready to tear through all of them, studied the bag, then me. “You realize that if you are killed, it is the end of me as well. If this is some sort of noble sacrifice—“

“It’s not.”

“The scent of death lingers. If anything, it’s grown stronger. You need me.”

“More than I can say. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. At this moment, I need you to take the lux and get distance. If I make it out of this, it’s going to be close. And I won’t be able to slow down, or recover the bag if someone takes it from me.” I reached down and placed a hand on the small of her neck. “You’re the only one I can trust with this.”

Talia shifted slightly when I touched her, but didn’t step away. Finally, she growled, refusing to make eye-contact. “If you die, I will forgo absolution to bar your spirit from the Styx myself.”

Before I could say anything, Talia took the bag in her mouth and sprinted into the yard to my left, nimbly leaping up and over the fence.

There was one last precaution I needed to take.

<Myrddin: Hey Kinsley. I’m somewhere on the Northside. Far north, I think. I sent a summon back towards home on the freeway heading south, carrying lux. Get a ride with Roderick’s people and intercept. I’ll buy as much time as possible, but it’s probably going to be less than we’d like.>

<Kinsley: Motherfucker, I’m already headed your way. And now I’m texting and driving, so thank you for that.>

<Myrddin: The hell? You’re driving?>

<Kinsley: When your only friend keeps sending you his location and refuses to elaborate, see if you don’t buy a goddamn car to go get him.>

I was about to ask for clarification when I scrolled up on the chat log. My eyebrows furrowed as I read through a long-string of messages I had no memory of sending, one every five minutes on the dot, each containing crossroads or highway mile marker information. There were more than a few problems with that. One, I’d been unconscious, prone on the back seat. Even if I was half-awake in some sort of fugue, there’s no way I could have consistently known where we were. Two, they were remarkably consistent for someone clubbed over the head.

If <Jaded Eye> was active, that was a possible explanation. But it wasn’t. I’d swapped to <Cruel Lens> during my conversation with Vernon. Outside interference was nothing new, but it was rare that it actually went my way.

Did the Allfather interfere directly?

<Myrddin: Divert. Prioritize the lux.>

<Kinsley: Like hell I will.>

<Myrddin: Kinsley.>

<Kinsley: NO. NO Matt. FUCK you.>

<Myrddin: Calm down.>

<Kinsley: I’m not gonna calm down. Everyone always FUCKING leaves me. My Mom, my Dad. And sure, not his fault, but that doesn’t change the result. Now you want to just waltz off the face of the fucking earth and leave me with a million unanswered questions? Fuck that. Not gonna happen, asshole.>

I felt the vein stand out on my forehead.

<Myrddin: You’re putting everyone else in the region at risk.>

<Kinsley: Then you better find a way to make it through this.>

Royally pissed, but processing the fact that I wasn’t going to be able to persuade her, I asked Kinsley to idle somewhere nearby once she arrived. I didn’t want my actions getting blamed on the Merchant’s Guild, just when it was beginning to take off. She reluctantly agreed.

Matt

Level 10 Ordinator

Identity: Myrddin, Level 10 ???

Strength: 6

Toughness: 6

Agility: 15+

Intelligence: 16+

Perception: 8

Will: 14

Companionship: 1

Active Title: Born Nihilist

Feats: Double-Blind, Ordinator’s Guile I, Ordinator’s Emulation, Stealth I, Awareness I, Harrowing Anticipation, Page’s Quickdraw.

Skills: Probability Spiral, LVL 15. Suggestion, LVL 18. One-handed, LVL 14. Negotiation, LVL 9. Unsparing Fang (Emulated), Level 9.

Summons: Audrey — Flowerfang Hybrid, Bond LVL 3. Talia — Revenant Wolf, Bond LVL 2

Selve: 49,361 (-100 per week)

Skill Points Available: 3. Feat points available: 2.

<System Notification: Your two highest statistics have been augmented. Augmented stats represent partial mastery. As such, a User gains an amalgam of passive abilities that lend increased utility to the proficiency in question.>

Augmentation had to be what Nick’s “friend” was hinting at. The boost that came with Level 10. I scanned through the text frantically, trying to find another dropdown, or tooltip, or anything that gave a more specific description of how augmentation affected my stats.

Nothing.

I moved on, throwing all three available stat points into Agility. It pained me on some petty level to have it finally overtake Intelligence as my highest stat, but it was the most relevant to my current situation. No amount of Strength or Toughness was going to help against the numbers that were coming my way. And even though the three Users had been operating beyond the pale, judging from the conversation I’d overheard in the car, the guild they belonged to didn’t sound particularly nefarious. They’d been actively concerned about getting kicked out if their actions came to light.

More than that, I didn’t want to hurt them. For killing to become a reflex.

I’d been prepared to end the necromancer if it came down to it. And yes, maybe by jumping into the car and putting myself in harms way, I’d created a set of circumstances where a violent outcome was likely. I felt no guilt for that. Just a deep, boiling anger that they’d forced my hand.

But there was a world of difference between those specific instances, and slaughtering Users who thought they were avenging friends.

I banished the errant thoughts, trying to focus on the system screen even as the cars drew closer. There had to be something that would help me get out of this. A silver bullet. I just needed to find it.

<System Notification: An Ordinator Specific Ability may now be evolved.>

<Available Evolutions: Suggestion, Probability Spiral.>

I scrolled through a half-dozen options. Three for each Ordinator Ability. The options for Suggestion were eye-catching. <Compel,><Mass Hallucination,> and <Seduce.> The latter wasn’t as dubious as it appeared at first glance, though it had the capacity to be used that way. From the painfully brief description, it was a tool that could be used repeatedly to ingratiate myself with others. The opposite of the quick fix I needed. I moved on.

<Compel> was a mainline upgrade to <Suggestion,> the primary difference being that it nixed one of the core weaknesses of the previous skill: the inability to force someone to do something they were intrinsically opposed to. On whatever passed for a normal day post-system, I would have stopped there. It was an invaluable upgrade. But it was single target.

Of the three available options, <Mass Hallucination> was the most useful. It specialized the mental image aspect of <Suggestion,> allowing me to haunt a group of individuals within a thirty-foot radius with ongoing delusions. There were problems, however. The radius was not only relatively small but static, and if a person made their way out of the bubble, the delusion would fade. And I’d be giving up the basic utility of suggestion.

I ran through the options for <Probability Spiral,> barely reading the skill names and skipping straight to the description. <Butterfly Effect> and <Fortuna> were both useful, but the former only effective over a long-span of time, while the latter was too eclectic to risk my primary skill for. Finally, I read the last option. And read it again, and again.

That’s the one.

I grew more panicked as a buggy pulled into the cul-de-sac. There were eight cars in total, behind it, more Users emerging than I could count. Two of them had parked at the edge of the outlet, close enough to block any vehicle from simply driving through. There was a chance I could squeeze the motorcycle through if I jumped the curb, but I’d still be riding through a killbox.

Before I could strategize further, a massive, familiar figure stepped out of the buggy. He was wearing an improvised eye-patch fashioned out of thin gray material, probably from a t-shirt.

“I’m going to give you a chance to make this simple. Where are my men?” Tyler rumbled. Nearly two dozen people filed in behind him, various weapons at the ready. The leader of the adventurer’s guild lifted a huge great-sword off his back and pointed at me. The outline of his blade glowed dark blue.

When the fight in the SUV began, one of the members had started to call for help before I stopped him.

We are code bri—

He’d been trying to say Bright Star. The same code the Adventurer’s Guild used to identify a man down. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I might have realized it before it was too late.

All of this was suspect. The Allfather had warned me I’d be in the crosshairs, but I’d never imagined interference to this extent. There wasn’t even a chance it was just bad luck. The series of events that led me here were so astronomically unlikely that it had to be intentional. An attempt to drive a wedge between me and the one guild I actually intended to work with.

I kept my voice even. “I know we’re all scrambling here, but you really need to tighten your recruiting standards”

“Myrddin? Is that you?” Sara gaped at me, approaching from the side.

“Myrddin?” Tyler asked.

Sara was still staring at me in horror. “The User who helped pull you out of the rubble. His face looks different, but I’m pretty sure it’s him. Same clothing, same aura.”

Tyler’s mouth turned downward. “My gratitude is immeasurable. Now. Where. Are. My. Men?” He spoke each word slowly, with emphasis, his expression hard.

I double-checked the setting on the Allfather’s mask. It was still on highest setting. My mind went back to the comment in the description about diminishing returns on repeated exposure.

And I’d spent too much time around Sara.

It’s not just about making people scared. It’s almost like they’re trying to cast you as a villain.

At the end of the day, I still had an in with the Adventurer’s Guild as Matt the NPC. Which meant I needed to find the best way to salvage this persona. Taking a long moment to consider what I was about to do, I lowered the setting on the mask to disguise my voice and appearance only.

I drew my knife for a moment and examined the blade, as if considering something deeply important, then held it loosely at my side. “Those three idiots? They were in my way,” I said, letting out a low chuckle.

“Why?” Sara asked, her face slack with shock.

“Because they were stupid enough to cross me.”

Rage flared behind Tyler’s eyes. He reigned it in, so quickly I had to respect the discipline. When he spoke, his voice quivered. “If you come quietly, I will personally guarantee your safety. But to be honest, I’m hoping you won’t.”

I let <Cruel Lens> drive my words. “So self-righteous. Nonetheless, let’s look at this objectively.” I pointed the knife towards the line of cars. “By any reasonable standard, this is overkill. You didn’t need this many people. Which means vengeance or rescue isn’t really what you’re after. You don’t give a shit about the probationary brigade. What you really care about is the lux.”

In reality, he cared about both. But the point was to knock him off-balance.

Tyler bared his teeth. “Stop barking and make your choice.”

“Surrender or fight?” I shook my head. “Pass.”

Sara, reacting quickly to how red in the face her guild-leader was, jumped in. “Be reasonable, Myrddin. Whatever happened, I’m sure there’s a reason. If you surrender here, you’ll have a chance to tell your side.”

I wished I could. There simply wasn’t time. The transposition event was ending in less than an hour. And even if I explained everything, and they actually believed me, cleared me through Tyler’s ability, they’d never trust me. I’d always be an outsider.

“Sure, why not. I’ll tell you my side. I killed your men. Took your lux. Now, I’m going to take a walk down the street, beyond your little barricade. And you’re going to watch me leave.” I pointed to the end of the street with the knife, then replaced it in my inventory, leaving myself barehanded.

“Insane.” Tyler shook his head.

I selected <Squelch> as my feat, and locked in the level up. The familiar pain of leveling ripped through my upper-body and arms, down into my legs. <Harrowing Anticipation> activated. I focused on the surrounding area, keeping the lens narrow. There was a higher density of magic in the air now than there had been at the beginning of the transposition, which worked to my benefit. I could see the threads between every single person, their weapons, a far more profound insight than I’d gleaned before, even inside the Trial.

A line of dominoes. And I knew exactly how to knock them down.

“He’s casting something!” Someone yelled from the side. But it was too late.

<Probability Cascade>