A few weeks after Steak’s journey deep into the woods, they were still in Rook’s Rest–the name Steak thought of for the shack in the woods–making a product that serves no other purpose but to make a person feel something. He used his new skill
Rook had concocted a solution to make the plant grow faster. This meant that Steak had the majority of his day occupied with tending to the plants and picking the leaves that were good to dry.
The two spoke less than before. Part of it was because Steak refused to talk about his experience with the Monkeyhawks and the other was Rook being too obsessed with creating a new drug from the mushroom that nearly killed Steak. Steak also gave Rook the decision on what to name the deadly fungus. The teen ended up giving it the name Parashroom.
Steak also noticed that apart from Rook’s silence, he had been irritable. A minor inconvenience would send the boy in a rage that Steak didn’t know how to deal with. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the intense amount of pressure he placed on himself. Whichever it was, Steak knew that it needed to be addressed if he were to continue working with the kid if he were to stick around after he fixed his Credit problem.
“Hey, why don’t you sleep in a bit more. You’ve been waking up before the sun even rises for a while now,” Steak commented as they ate their breakfast.
“You know that’s not possible. We’re lucky to even have this much demand for our product. We need to ride this trend and establish ourselves with a new line,” Rook explained.
Steak couldn’t say anything back to him as his reason made sense.
“And about this revenge plan of yours? After thinking about it, I think we’d surely lose. Even with the two new skills and all the combat training I’ve been doing, I still don’t think I can get a hit in if I faced their lackeys again,” Steak said.
“You say that now? Of course we’d lose if we fight them head-on! What do you think all this work that we’re doing is for? This is the plan!” Rook shouted at him.
The two stood up and squared up to each other. The size difference was obvious, but Rook faced him with confidence. He really believed that this plan of his would work, but he refuses to share the details of it with Steak. If only that the both of them didn’t need each other, then they both would’ve surely gone their separate ways. After a few moments, the two calmed down and went back to finishing their breakfasts.
“I’ve got a lot of things to do with the new drug I’m making, so you go do this week’s deliveries. I left a note of the locations and the rest of the details on top of the products,” Rooks said.
Steak replied with a grumble.
***
At the gates of Spawnharbor, Steak saw both of the people manning the gates were smoking the cigarette that they made. It raised his spirits up and filled him with a bit of pride. For the first time he felt like he’d actually been seen by his fellow people, although indirectly.
He strolled around Spawnharbor as he went around doing deliveries, looking around and watching other people use their product. With some of the smaller streets that were packed with people, the amount of smoke that you had to go through as you walked was thick. Alongside the little bit of pride he got from seeing the current state of the people in this district, there was a little bit of uneasiness that grew inside him.
As soon as Steak walked in the last tavern he needed to deliver to, shouting started.
“What do you mean you’re also out!? I’ve been to four shops already!” An unkempt middle aged man yelled at the bartender
“It means that I’ve got no more to sell!” He yelled back. “There, that’s the guy who bought the last pack of cigs. Go and shake him down with that damn cancer stick you’re going crazy for,” the bartender pointed at a guy that sat near the door.
The guy snapped his head and saw the crazy-looking man bothering the bartender. Not wanting any part of it, he immediately grabbed his coat and ran off. On the way out, he bumped Steak on the shoulder causing the large man to nearly topple.
“Come on, man, I know you got some saved up for your own use. Can’t you sell that to me?” The raging customer asked.
“Can’t you hear how pathetic you sound right now? And, no, I don’t smoke that shit. It was bad enough in the old world and it’s still bad for you now,” the young bartender lectured him.
“Fuck you, I’m not asking for a lesson on what’s good or bad for my own body. I’m asking you for some fucking cigs,” the man shouted.
“If you’re going to act like that after a few hours of not smoking, then I think you should stop and rethink your life, old man,” the bartender said with a grin on his face.
The rowdy customer clenched his fists. Mana started to surround his hands, even fusing with his skins and reinforcing it. He cocked his fist back and took a step forward.
Steak got in between them just in time. The rowdy customer’s strike connected with the shell. The skill built in it reflected the force back to the aggressor, causing him to slide backward. However, the disorderly man remained standing. Steak heard pieces of something crumble on the floor like shattered glass.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The strike he blocked managed to deplete his pool of Mana in one hit. He looked down at his arm. The portion where he activated the shell was bleeding and some of his skin was missing. If he were to get hit again it would surely be the end of him.
The rowdy man scowled at Steak. He cracked his neck and loosened his shoulders. With glowing fists raised, he took a step forward.
“Woah, woah, woah, hold on, I got something for you,” Steak stammered.
He tossed the man a pack of cigarettes. Then, Steak flashed him with an awkward smile. The man just stared at him.
“You don’t have to pay me,” Steak laughed nervously.
The man dismissed his skill and his heavy fists stopped glowing. He glanced at Steak and then at the pack of cigarettes. With a dismissive shrug, he left the establishment.
After a few seconds of him leaving, the patrons of the tavern erupted in cheers and laughter. Some of the drunk customers even came up to him and smacked him in the back.
“Thanks for the save, but it was unnecessary,” the bartender said to him. He pulled out a heavy looking spear from under the counter and gave it a pat.
“Oh, uh, sorry for stepping in,” Steak said.
“Don’t be, I appreciate it, truly. So, what’ll it be, food, drink, or both? It’s on the house,” the bartender smiled at him.
“Actually, I’m here on business,” Steak said.
“Oh?” The bartender raised an eyebrow.
From his inventory, Steak pulled out a large box filled with packs of cigarettes. He also pulled out the emblem that showed that he was allowed by the Murder of Crows to do business in the area. He placed it on the counter carefully so as to not damage both it and his product. The smile on the bartender’s face disappeared.
“Rook, I mean, O’Kelly won’t be able to do the delivery today, so he sent me,” Steak said, his voice going quieter by the end when he saw the face that the bartender was making.
“‘Business,’ huh?” The bartender scoffed.
“Excuse me?” Steak was confused by the sudden change in the guy’s tone.
“Nothing, it’s just that I don’t agree with your ‘product’ at all. Though, don’t let that stop you from continuing your hustle, I just work here,” the bartender gave him a fake smile while he prepared the transaction.
“Is there a problem?” Steak asked, a frown started to form on his face.
“Again, you don’t have to worry about not getting your money, I just work here,” the bartender finished sending over the Credits to Steak. “The problem here is you and that product of yours. This district wasn’t always the shining example of the best of humanity, but it’s definitely been worse since you showed up,” again the bartender smiled at him.
“Worse? From my perspective it looks like a lot of people are enjoying themselves because of me. What’s so bad about that?” Knowing that he shouldn’t make a scene in an establishment that they dealt business with, he tried his best to seem as amiable as possible.
“Interesting, so that’s how you see it,” the bartender chuckled. “So, tell me, how do you sleep at night knowing that you’re making a kid create these drugs?” The bartender leaned in and asked.
“Rook is doing it of his own volition,” Steak said.
“Is that so? Well then, I take back my offer. Buy your own drink,” the bartender said.
“I wasn’t going to take it anyway,” Steak turned around and left after confirming the amount of Credits.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” the bartender called out to him as he left.
Steak walked out of the tavern into a busy street. The smell of booze and smoke hit his nose, making him drop the nasty feelings he got from his encounter with the bartender. However, with no money to spend, he sets his course back to Rook’s Rest.
“Is that the dirty man that O’Kelly took under his wing?” a woman dressed in an all black fur coat asked. She rested her chin on her hand as she leaned into the table.
“Yes, mistress,” a man said. He also wore an all black outfit, the hood on his cloak covering his face.
“Hm, that boy’s always been elusive. Perhaps this one would finally lead us to my sister’s bloody hideout,” the woman said.
“I believe he’s a part of the last batch, there’s not much info on him on the streets yet,” the man replied.
“Guess we’d have to gather that on our own. But for now, follow that hobo around. Oh, and take Robin with you. The first time I met her I felt like she’d make a good stalker. She should be of use,” she said.
“Understood, mistress Cassandra,” the hooded man replied.
As soon as he finished talking, he jumped over the balcony and landed on the street. Though it was packed, no one seemed to notice, except for one woman that sat on top of a barrel in an alleyway. She whistled at the man.
“Yo, Merle, whatcha up to?” She asked.
The woman was short, large bangs covered her eyebrows that made her head look like it was mostly made up of hair. She wore an outfit similar to the man with slight modifications to the sleeves that exposed her thin arms.
“Robin, slacking off again I see. Cassandra gave us an order. We follow that big guy in rags and see where he’s going,” Merle said.
“Erm, actually, I was doing my job. And I guess my intuition is right. I felt something odd about him. Felt something crawling up my skin when he passed by me,” Robin cringed as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Let’s go, it looks like he’s leaving town,” Merle said.
“Fine, fine,” she rolled her eyes.
The two lackeys followed Steak out of town and into the woods. They had no trouble not getting detected by Steak with Merle using one of his skills to hide their presence. On the other hand, Robin mapped out Steak’s path in her mind.
Oblivious to all of this, Steak made it even easier for them to spot him in the darkness and know which direction he was headed. After seeing an old drunk man do it in the streets, Steak practiced how to whistle on his way back to Rook’s Rest. He did this thinking that no one would see him in the woods.
“That’s embarrassing,” Robin shivered from disgust.
They continued this routine for ten more minutes until Steak suddenly disappeared. Even the sound of his failed whistling was gone. The two Crows ran to the last spot they saw him in and surveyed the area.
“Where the hell did he go? He was just walking here a second ago!” Merle panicked.
“Ooo, do you feel that?” Robin asked. Her face was contorted in a way that it was hard to tell whether she was pleased or mad.
“Feel what?”
“In your head,” she said.
“I don’t feel anything,” Merle said.
“This disorientation, it doesn’t feel natural,” she said softly. “I think this might be the work of a Skill.”
Merle pulled her down to the ground and drew out a knife.
“We’ve been spotted then,” he whispered.
“Oh no,” she pouted.
“I think we need to head back and report this to Cassandra. The reports said that he was a druid, it didn’t say anything about Mind Magics,” he said.
“Oh well,” Robin shrugged.
As the two crawled on their stomachs back to Spawnharbor, Steak leisurely strolled in the darkness, still unable to whistle. A glob of drool dripped out of his mouth and landed on his cloak.