Magic Breaker Ch 25-27

Chapter 25: Safe Zone

It is, in fact, the same gathering place we were almost not let out of yesterday. The guards are different, though, and don’t recognize us, so we don’t get any trouble. It’s still a lot of humans, but they seem to have expanded to a few nearby buildings, and more tents have been set up.

Organized. It’s organized, there is food, there is water. So what’s the trouble? I know something is off.

The safe zone doesn’t envelop the entire place, but I do eventually feel it take hold. It’s half an enforced rule, half an agreement. Anyone who breaks it will be punished, and retribution against them is acceptable, or so my intuition says.

It makes the air smell faintly of plastic. An artificial, chemical sorta smell. Like wearing a too-tight shirt.

But I bear with it. I don’t fight it, don’t suppress it. I just solidify more mana within my pocket. Out of sight of anyone else, I make a handful of needles, keeping my mana just below full at all times. 

I’m a little curious. I’ve been able to determine the level and species of other things before. Like when I looked at the wolf, or the first dreadarmor. But it’s not worked on other humans yet. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough? Something to consider.

Then, a second effect slithers alongside the safe zone.

It’s a smaller area, and much less noticeable. In fact, I can barely tell it’s active… but I have myself, Inu and Thatch selected. And so, I notice the change.

A tiny, insidious little bit of mana. A domain in a domain, a spell hidden beneath the safe zone. It’s a minor thing, just enough to instill a feeling of safety, and belonging. Loyalty, maybe?

Fucking disgusting. 

Norman doesn’t notice, simply walking forward with a smile. “This is lovely,” he says. “Can we weather the entire apocalypse here?”

Our guide nods. “That’s the plan, as far as I know. Most people end up volunteering to find others, though. Indomitable human spirit and all that, right?” he grins.

Inu’s dad nods conspiratorially. “Of course. Gotta stick together.”

“We fend off goblins every now and then, so don’t worry too much if you hear gunshots,” the guide notifies us. “Let me show you around.”

- - -

I [Suppress] the insidious nature of the safe zone on me, Inu, and Thatch. Opal and Sylves are too far behind. I know they’re out there, that much I’m sure of, but I don’t know where. That’s fine, though. They are strong. 

But still. Things are annoying. We’re shown where we can sleep, where we can get food and water, where we can get taken care of if we’re hurt. And finally, he wants to introduce us to the mayor. 

So, we head to the largest house around. Two police officers stand in front, decked out in bulletproof vests and larger guns. I don’t pay them much mind, even as they eye us suspiciously. We get waved through.

There’s a secretary, too, telling us that the mayor has time right now. She has a polite smile. Inu flinches from the effects of [Empathy]. Norman doesn’t notice, but Jess does. Her face falls a bit more with each passing second.

Ornate double doors open into an opulent office. It’s got a name plaque, but I don’t care. The mayor is just the mayor. I don’t think he deserves a name. 

He stands at the window, hands clasped behind his back. His suit is pristine, without any blood marring it. And yet, when my senses brush up against him, I get that instinctual kind of window. The one that tells me what someone is about.

[Mayor, lv. 18]

There is a distinct difference to it. I don’t know how to identify humans like that yet. It didn’t even work on Richard or Dar. Yet, on this guy, it works.

“Oh, more members of our little zone,” he says, turning to greet us. He is clean shaven, hair slicked back, smelling of strong deodorant. “Welcome. I do hope you haven’t suffered too much out there.”

I can hear the clicks of his tongue in his mouth. The way he talks disgusts me, and yet, I don’t mind him talking. Gently, I twist my mana, [Suppressing] that affection. I want to know how he got his levels. Should I [Deconstruct] him?

“Not too much,” Norman says. “We spent some time gathering everyone we cared for.”

“Then I hope you’ve brought them all here!” the mayor says, laughing a little. “Don’t worry. Everything is under control. All we need to do is bring more people to safety here. Humans ought to stick together, yes?” he asks, chuckling again.

Slowly, his eyes pass over our group, lasting just a little too long on each member. When he looks away from me, I [Select] him. For a brief moment he stops. I wait, keeping the connection from my skill faint. It’s weak, a tiny touch of mana, the tendril hidden away. I use my skill with mana to hide it as best as I can.

A moment passes.

The mayor moves on, smiling all the while. 

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” he says. “I simply wish to welcome you into our little community. Let me know if anything troubles you, and we’ll see it taken care of.”

“Of course,” Norman nods. “Thank you.”

“Good lad,” the mayor laughs, patting Norman’s shoulder. “Now, you go and get settled in, yes?” 

Norman nods again. “Yessir.”

And with that, we’re off.

All that remains is a tiny tether, upheld by a faint part of my mind, connecting me to the mayor.

- - -

We get a room assigned to us. A handful of rooms that we sit in. Thatch, Inu, and me in one. We don’t talk. But we do communicate. [Empathy] lets us share emotions and impressions, and with [Piercing Gaze], Thatch can catch more glimpses of what Inu and I are thinking of.

And yeah. There’s no doubt. This stinks to high heaven. The mayor is too high-level. Inu felt grossed out by him, and her [Empathy] had been acting funny. Thatch was keeping [Rage] running at low intensity, burning the insidious affection for the mayor to fuel his skill. 

Norman, though, seems entirely unbothered. He’s not stupid, per se, but he has never had any run-ins with authority, clearly. Inu feels apologetic for her dad, but no one is mad at her. 

What made the mayor’s level so high? Part of it is definitely experience from a class. Did he unlock one before level 10? Is his class sponsored? It identified him as mayor, so does identifying someone reveal their class instead of species when strong enough?

So many questions, so few answers. Inu decides to head out and see about getting a few answers. I, meanwhile, use my tether to the mayor to investigate. It’s faint and distant, but I have him selected. As long as he can’t cut the tether, he can’t stop me from using it on him. 

Maybe what I’m about to do he will notice, but I don’t care. As Inu gets up and heads out to ask some questions, I activate [Deconstruction]. I reach into that magical toolbox, and pick out tweezers, for now. Just a tiny instrument to grab bits of info.

I smile. Let’s see just how much I can learn before I get in trouble. 

 Chapter 26: The Mayor

He’s sponsored. I’m sure of that. Why am I sure? My tether connects us, and I want to know more about his class, so I pick at a tiny piece of it, just a grain of knowledge from the very surface. I get the intuition that his class is about social manipulation, as expected. 

And then comes the notification that lets me know he’s sponsored.

[You have caught the Eye of the Deceptive Manipulator.]

Another Eye on me. 

[The Creeping Darkness tells the Deceptive Manipulator to be dragged to the shadows.]

I blink. What? Are they… having a fight over me?

[The Deceptive Manipulator smiles sardonically.]

That’s ridiculous. Surely, there’s no way. 

No more notifications follow, and the previous ones dissolve into particles of blue. I’m sure I saw them, though. How bizarre. 

Quickly, I shake that surprise off, instead trying to feel as for whether or not the mayor felt anything. 

No reaction.

I take a deep breath, then activate [Deconstruction] again. The effect is minor, since I’m using a tiny bit of mana and he is so far away, but I am taking apart his class. Picking up pieces of it, however tiny, to observe what they do.

[Deconstruction 3 > 4]

I’m not putting them back. 

It’s a tiny thing. Barely noticeable, but I’m sure it will make him less effective in the long term. What a funny effect, that. The fact that I can permanently take something apart. It might regenerate on its own, but it’s yet another kind of insidious debuff I can apply.

Can I send my solidified mana across the tether of [Selection]? I know I can use [Suppression] through it. What a fun little exercise that is. 

Marking someone, walking away, then whittling them down from a distance. I pick up another tiny piece of the mayor’s class, analyze it, and discard it. My knowledge base of mana structures increases. I begin to understand how classes work.

[Class Up! Deconstructor 4 > 5]

The experience pushes my class a little bit higher, and then that level pushes my supremacy a bit more.

[Level Up! 11 > 12]

All three points go into vessel, this time. More mana means I can whittle him down more, means I can practice more and learn faster. I can learn how to remake my body from the healing spell, I’m sure. I can make my skills more powerful, too. But I need mana to learn all that.

In a lot of ways, mana feels like I’m investing in my training. All in on potential. I smile to myself. This world, the way it works… it’s fucked up. It’s horrible, in a lot of ways. I’ve seen corpses, and I’ve killed people. Right now, some idiot with a sponsor from a giant eye in the sky is trying to manipulate my mind.

How do I feel about that?

Great. I feel fricking amazing. It hurts. I did surgery on myself, tearing a shadow thing out of my side. I took an arrow through my shoulder. I despise the horrid feeling of the manipulation. It makes me feel dirty and disgusting.

And yet. All I need to do is break it down, understand it, and then move on.

I always loved learning. I love reading, I love watching videos, but if there is one thing I hate it’s needing to prove that learning to some outside force. I hate writing papers. Tests are tolerable because they’re fun puzzles, but papers? Just reviewing what I already know?

Horrible.

Now, I just get to use the skills, then grow them further. There is no one to answer to, nothing to prove except that I can keep myself and my friends safe. I smile. Some part of it all is freeing.

Gently, quietly, hiding my mana, I pick another piece of the mayor’s class of him and analyze it. A bit of general sympathy in this one. I memorize and discard it. Another piece. Oh? Gaining levels for when he spreads his influence. A part of his experience module. A tiny piece of it. 

I study it, and discard it. I pick up another piece. And another. And another…

Bit by tiny bit, I pick apart his class. I take the pieces of it, learn from them, then throw them away, letting them dissipate into motes of mana. Maybe he can regenerate them, maybe not. I find myself not caring very much.

Really, the mayor is already dead, I think with a smile. He just doesn’t know it yet. But I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. 

Not for manipulating people, or his safe zone shtick, not for any of that. But for trying to cage me. For trying to manipulate Inu and Thatch. For the way his aura feels like it’s invading my personal space.

Really, I’ll kill him just for inconveniencing me a little. For a moment, just a brief moment, I wonder if he has a powerbank to charge my phone with. My battery’s running low. Maybe I’ll take it off his corpse.

- - -

Inu comes back. Sweating, distraught. I see it in her eyes. [Empathy] connects to me, and she offloads some heavy emotions. I accept them, laying a gentle layer of apathy over mine and hers, pulling her into a state of calm with me.

There, I give her a while to relax. She needs it, and I sort through the emotions she sent.

And wow. This mayor guy really is horrible. He’s done some messed up stuff to these people, using a skill that lets him take things from them.

He’s been stealing mana from people, and even vitality from their heart points. It was all a willing trade, of course, ones that he just strongly pushed them too, but he has stolen from people. Worse, too. 

Suffice to say, Inu doesn’t need to say anything for me to want to kill him. I look at her, quietly, raising my eyebrows and gesturing at the door.

She shakes her head. She doesn’t want to tell Norman, then.

I point at myself. Another shake of her head. Not me, either, then.

Thatch returns an hour later, bleeding from a stab wound on his leg, and another in his abdomen. Grimacing, I lay a hand on him, triggering my botched healing skill. It knits his flesh together, just a bit.

Then, I review what it’s supposed to look like. Try to mimic it. Review. Mimic. Review. Mimic. Until I’m tapped out of mana, and Thatch’s skin is scabbed over.

It still hurts, obviously, but he’s no longer bleeding. Slowly, he takes a long, deep breath. He looks at Inu, and through our links, we exchange info. I learn how he got into a fight.

Really, it was simple. Someone praised the mayor, and he didn’t cheer. Then he got called out, and shrugged about his affection for the man. Slowly, sentiments turned, until someone stabbed him.

Of course, the others pulled the stabber back. I look at Thatch, and he shakes his head. I sigh. No murdering the person who was manipulated, fine. Then I would simply hate the mayor more. 

Inu tells him of her experiences, and he grimaces. They’re just that bad. Slowly, we take our time to collect ourselves. My mana regenerates enough to take another piece of the mayor’s class.

[Class Up! Deconstructor 5 > 6]

And another point in vessel. Inu nods at Thatch, and at the door. He nods, too. He’ll tell Norman. We go outside, and head to Inu’s dad’s room.

Except that the others aren’t there.

Chapter 27: Manipulator

Norman isn’t there. 

None of the others are. Not Jess, not Bay, not Amelie. 

The reality of the situation takes a moment to sink it, but when it does, I see Thatch set his jaw. [Rage] lights up. It feeds off his very real fury. I’ve never really seen Thatch get angry.

And yet, now, he does. His skin tints a little more red, and I can feel the way his heart beats. It’s loud enough for me to hear, even standing next to him. He clenches his fists, and his nails dig into his palms.

For the first time, he speaks. “Snow? Can you find my mom for me?” His voice is quiet, measured.

“I don’t know,” I reply, and he turns to me slowly. Entirely contained, and making sure to fully control each tiny motion. “I don’t think I can find her, not with certainty. But I think I can guess,” I elaborate.

At that, he nods. “Okay. Let’s go.”

This time, after all the times Thatch has taken me by my word, it’s my time to listen. Gently, I nod. “Okay. Inu?”

“Yeah,” the girl says, swallowing heavily. “Let’s look for them.”

We head out.

- - -

The air smells of sweat. Of humanity condensed down to a small space. 

It’s funny. People live far apart here, and it still feels cramped. Like the makeshift walls are pressing in on me. The tents feel more like curtains, hiding things away, than the sanctuaries they should be.

I hate every moment of it.

Slowly but surely, I prepare my mana. I’m not wasting any as we walk, letting it gather in my vessel, solidifying a bit more of it. I already have a needle. But I want it to be bigger. So I can properly stab the guy with it.

Where could the others have gone? There is only really one place, isn’t there? The mayor’s mansion. Maybe he sent a runner to get them. Maybe they decided to head there themselves. It doesn’t really matter.

We walk there, too.

No one stops us. Oh, I see some people eyeing us warily, but no one tries to get in our way. Despite the anger, I can tell Thatch is very much so in control of himself. He just walks normally, straight back, loose shoulders. Well. I suppose he looks a little bit ready to tear someone’s head off.

But not enough to be suspicious, apparently. 

Finally, at the entrance to the mayor’s manor, we’re stopped. The guards stand there, relaxed. “Stop, what’s your business?” they ask as we approach.

“We’re here to see the mayor,” Inu says with a smile. 

“He’s a bit busy right now,” one of the guards says, scratching the back of her head. “If you could come back later, we-”

Thatch takes a deep breath. “It’s urgent,” he says, wringing out a polite smile. He looks the most charming of us, the most trustworthy. I go through the effort of pulling my face into a normal, awkward smile. 

“Yeah. We’re really sorry to bother, but it’s important,” I say.

“Can you just tell us?” the other guard, an older man with greying hair, says. “Maybe we can help you out.”

“My friend has a perception skill,” Inu says, poking at Thatch, “and we spotted a horde of goblins heading for the camp. There were also… werewolves?” 

It’s a lie. The guard’s eyes widen, though. “Werewolves?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she nods. “They had like… lizard tails, and spikes on their backs, a little like dinosaurs?”

The guard nods. “We’ve heard of them. That is important. Where from?”

“Down south,” Inu lies, smoothly. 

“Okay,” the woman says. “I’ll check it out. Blake, take them to the mayor?”

“Fine by me,” he says. “Come along then,” he says, waving us inside.

Usually, this kind of lie shouldn’t have worked, but… in a community like this? Where everyone was already manipulated to be reliant on the mayor, where they trusted each other, where there was no reason to lie?

It was a little bit like we were in a cult. They would believe rather outrageous stuff if it came from another member, and the talk of the wulven gave us a little more legitimacy - those were a real threat, after all. 

Slowly, we walk through the mayor’s manor. My mana collects in my vessel, and in the needle in my pocket. It’s not perfect, but I don’t need it to be. I feel my [Selection] grow stronger, the tether between me and the mayor becoming closer. 

Then, we hear them. “Norman, my friend,” the mayor says. “With those skills, you’d make an excellent scout. You should head to the tent for outside missions to bring in more people.”

“Of course, of course,” Norman’s answer is quiet. “Jess, would you come along-”

“Oh, pish, posh,” the mayor interrupts, laughing heartily. “Come on, Norman. The sooner you sign on, the more people we can save. You just leave your wife to me, yeah? To get sorted out.”

Inu frowns. Thatch grows more angry. Bay is in there, too. I wonder what Amelie is up to, then?

Slowly, we approach the door. The guard knocks, just as Norman opens the door.

“Oh,” he says, his eyes dull. “Inu? What are you doing here? Did you get sent for?”

“Goblins attacking,” the guard grunts. 

Inu nods. “Yeah. Thatch saw them. We needa speak to the mayor.”

“By all means,” Norman says, stepping aside.

The door opens fully, and we walk into the room. Jessica, Bay and Amelie are lined up. Amelie sits in her wheelchair, and turns to face us. I blink. There’s spiderweb wrapped around her shoulders. She’s… puppeteering herself?

A moment passes, as the mayor turns to face us, frowning. “What’s this about, then?” he asks. We walk inside, the tension thick. Norman eyes his daughter, seemingly confused. I walk in, feeling the tether to the mayor, learning more about how his skills work as I draw on it. 

The world seems to focus down on this moment. A shiver slowly travels up my neck. I feel watched. Definitely watched.

Ever so slowly, Thatch steps forward. He’s in perfect control, even as his heart thumps in his chest. The mayor is the first to notice, looking at the other man. Thatch steps in closer. Closer than he really needs to. 

A frown spreads across the mayor’s face. “What are you doing? Tell me what this intrusion is about!” he demands.

Thatch takes another step. He and the other man stand chest to chest. Thatch is just shorter than the mayor, but it doesn’t matter. He looms over him. Very slowly, he speaks. “That’s my mom,” he says, pointing at Bay. “What were you planning on doing with her?”

For just a second, the mayor’s eyes widen, then he feigns confusion. “What do you mean, young man? Come now, step back.”

Another moment passes. Thatch doesn’t obey. The guard twitches, and I [Select] his gun, suppressing its firing mechanism. 

[Rage] explodes, and with a brutal crack, Thatch’s fist slams into the mayor’s face.