[Meat+1] = Meat (Any, 0.1-5kg) + Water (Fresh, 0.2-10L) + [Knife] (Flint) + [Bowl] (Any, 5-10L) + [Campfire] (Any, 450-500°K)
----------------------------------------
Jay froze in place, eyes closed, expecting his death to come.
But it did not. As one second bled into the next, he opened his eyes in shock, only to realize that his opponent had become disquieted. Though the veins in Viktor’s arms bulged from the force he’d exerted in this killing blow, he could not finish it.
Not when he was being held back by someone else.
Sayid gripped his arm tight, his whole body quivering against the weight of this stronger foe. But he did not relent, throwing everything into this moment before it could be lost.
Viktor gasped as Sayid redirected, flicking his wrist to pierce his rapier through his enemy’s chest, a spot exposed where the leviathan had wounded him. Even with Viktor’s enhanced vitality, it was not enough to protect him completely. He recoiled, and Sayid scrambled forth, delivering a flurry of stabs that struck every possible opening.
But Viktor was quick to respond, his superhuman speed slashing the knife to deflect those blows before they could strike his weakest points. With a sudden roundhouse kick, Sayid was forced back again.
“You are good,” Viktor said. “Almost t–”
Sayid zipped beneath his opponent’s blind spot, swapping his rapier for a knife of his own. More blood splattered free where he’d cleaved into open flesh.
And Viktor went immediately on the offense, slashing his blade in defense. Quicker and quicker, the two launched into a dance that Jay’s eyes could barely track.
There was a cadence to their fighting style, too. The two weren’t using skills against each other, but throwing in unarmed strikes between their blows to throw their opponents off-balance. Even if Sayid couldn’t defeat Viktor on strength alone, he could still weaken him enough by aiming for his exposed wounds. And Viktor knew it. No longer was he the overconfident blowhard beating a lesser foe into submission.
No, this wasn’t a fight between two Expatriates leveraging the knowledge they’d been gifted by the Wyrms, either. These men were soldiers, using the tactics they’d developed on Earth to give themselves the upper hand. Not with what they had crafted, but by how their tools could be used to defeat the other.
Blood welled on Sayid’s cheek where Viktor’s knife had gone through. He cried out a moment later as an open palm struck his side.
And Jay gripped the jungle mud, once again moving slowly for the stick grenade. His chest armor and amulet had been shattered when Viktor knocked him down, but there was still a chance for him to help in this fight.
It might be the only one they had.
Viktor skipped back, jaw clenched as he watched his foe. Sayid huffed for air, twirling his knife back and forth.
And then Viktor burst out in sudden laughter, eyes narrowed forth. “Ah, I did not realize just how special this island was, but it seems that I have allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment in more ways than one, and it has gotten me careless. I did not recognize you without your kaffiyeh and long beard, but now that I look into your eyes, I see that I have been a poor host!” He bowed, eyes burning malice. “It is good to see you again, Sayid Shakir.”
Sayid kept his wrists locked in a defensive stance, brow furrowed.
“What?” Viktor jabbed. “Do you no longer have anything to say? I must have watched your videos a hundred times when I was with the GRU. You are much quieter when you aren’t throwing men off roofs or beheading women in the street.”
“Those days are over,” Sayid said. “I am no longer that man.”
“Oh? Do you believe your death washes your sins away? Because it seems to be the justice of higher powers for us to see each other after all this time.” He bent low, readying an attack. “I always wanted to have the chance to put you down myself after what you’ve done to men like me in Damascus. Yes, that would be quite the way for you to end, no?”
Sayid exhaled, lowering his blade an inch. “Yes, it would. I have done many things I am not proud of in my old life. Sure, I could blame the version of faith that I’d come to believe, the foreigners who exploited my country, or the people who destroyed my culture from within, but the truth is that every decision I’d made was my own. Everyone I killed, from the smallest child to the toughest man, are my responsibility. Not anyone else’s.
“You and I are the same in this way, Viktor Kutsetsnov. You know the loss I suffered when young, just as I have come to hear what has happened to you. We both became blind, hateful zealots because of this loss, inflicting death and suffering onto those weaker than us, all while pretending it is for some greater cause. But that hole is not filled so easily, now is it? Does what you’re doing bring you some greater sense of peace?”
Viktor’s eyes narrowed further, lips forming into a thin line.
“I will tell you what I learned here, Viktor. When removed from my caliphate and thrust into a world without direction, but no evidence that my faith was ever vindicated… I launched into that same self-destructive crusade as you, believing this would bring me peace. It brought me to an inch from death, instead. But then I was saved… By a woman, no less.” He sighed. “Naomi spared my life, not caring about who I’d been before or what pain I’d inflicted. She believed I deserved this second chance, just like everyone else.
“And I grew to see that this is what matters most, more than anything else. Not our grudges or our desire for self-interest, but the chance to see everyone live again, free from the pain we once knew.” He lowered his knife and held out a hand. “We were enemies once, but that does not need to be the case again, Viktor. There is always a chance for self-redemption. Please, do not allow this second chance to be poisoned as well.”
For a moment, Viktor stood and stared, eyes widened at his former enemy, now unarmed, as he offered the hand of friendship. He chewed his lips, knife quaking between his fingers.
The blade lowered an inch, his eyes beginning to water as he considered the prospect. Sayid stood and smiled, his palm open wide.
But then Viktor’s cheeks curled back into a scowl, and he vanished in the blink of an eye.
Sayid gasped a moment later, the sudden stab cleaving right through his gambeson. He crashed into a boulder, dust furling beside. His hand clutched his chest chest to keep the blood from gushing free.
Snap.
“You think I’ll fall for your trap!?” Viktor bellowed. “There is no redemption for our race. No second chance to be gained. We are beasts at the core, and only through being destroyed can we find true peace. I won’t allow you to interfere, mongrel.”
Sayid limbered to his feet, his eyes downcast. “I see that you cannot be saved… Just know that it is with a heavy heart that I do this now.” He drew a vial from his toolbelt and removed the top. A reddish liquid clung to the edge as he swallowed it.
And then he fell to his knees and screamed, skin turning bright red. More than that, every muscle expanded at once, as if he’d gone from a wiry middle-aged man to a bodybuilder in the blink of an eye, sinews bulged directly beneath his flesh. He swapped his knife for a machete and bent low.
Then it was Viktor who got knocked back, crying out as a near-instant hit sent him flying. But where Sayid had tumbled away like a ragdoll when he’d been hit, Viktor merely twirled through the air, his feet digging into the mud on impact.
The respite did not last. Sayid pressed on offense, now slow enough to see, but with a force that could be felt, even this far away. Sparks flew wherever his machete collided with Viktor’s steel knife and metalplated armor, the very air shuddering with thunderous booms. Viktor skipped back and forth, but not even he could withstand this torrent forever. He again went on the retreat, this time interposing his ruined cabin to slow his enemy down.
Then he wrenched his strange machine gun from the rubble, the one with a gear for a magazine on top, and Sayid redirected at once. The ground quaked and the camp went ablaze as Viktor unleashed a volley, the superheated bullets tearing through the mud and surrounding jungle with terrifying ease.
Viktor spat, his weapon smoking. “Ah! There is the beast unleashed. This is the man I’ve been waiting to see. The one who once dragged a crowd of ‘infidels’ into a church and burned it down.” His eyes burned hot as he stared his foe down. “But, it seems this has a cost, Shakir. How long can you face your true self, I wonder.”
“Long enough to defeat you, Kutsetsnov,” Sayid said, his voice pained and raspy.
Jay could see it too. Blood flowed from every orifice. His nose, his eyes, his ears. Whatever potion Sayid had given himself was destroying him from within, pushing his body well beyond the Rank it was capable of handling.
“Very well,” Viktor said. “It seems these paltry tools will not be enough to defeat you. Let us go old fashioned way.” He tossed his gun aside and raised his fists, a boxer with his guard up.
Sayid’s eyes widened against this strange display.
“What is wrong?” Viktor mocked. “I am unarmed now. It should be easy fight, yes?”
Jay blinked, a sudden realization coming into place as he watched his opponent flex his muscles.
“Wait!” he cried out.
But it was too late. Sayid had launched into another offensive, cleaving his machete down.
Only for Viktor to move at an even greater speed, using the momentum against his foe, twisting Sayid’s arm over his shoulder and thrusting him into the ground. Fissures cracked on impact, but Viktor was far from finished. He anchored Sayid with his knees and pounded into his surviving armor. The crater grew deeper with each hit, his thunderous blows reeking more devastating than everything he’d used until now.
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Snap.
Sayid gasped in pain. “Impossibl–”
Snap.
Not even his enhanced strength was enough against this fury.
Snap.
“Viktor!” Jay cried out. “You lying son of a bitch!”
He paused from his onslaught, looking over his shoulder with a cold stare.
“You’re not blessed,” Jay continued, “and you’re not half the craftsman we thought you were to reach your current state. You’re just an asshole!”
Sayid blinked in shock, but that was all he could afford. His body twitched after so many attacks at once.
Viktor stood up, a thin smirk forming beneath his beard, highlighted by the lingering fires from his gun. “So, it seems you’ve figured it out.”
Sayid wheezed. “What are you talking about, Jay…?”
Jay fumbled to his knees again, ignoring the pain. “We’ve been thinking about this all wrong, Sayid. There’s always been two assumptions that we held as fact about how this all works. The first is that you need to kill stronger monsters to get stronger yourself, and the second is that Natura rises proportionately with our power levels, behaving automatically because it is a universal force, rather than some sentient God.”
He took a step forth. “However, we were wrong on the first point and misled on the second, and Viktor has proven as much. Gear is gear. It doesn’t matter how you get it. If you have access and know how it works, you can use it to your heart’s content. Just as I was able to use a pistol to kill tough bosses, so too can some Spetsnaz goon use whatever weapons he takes from someone else.” He stared deep. “Viktor hasn’t crafted a damn thing to get to this point. He just takes it all from whomever he beats.
“And this is why he’s managed to survive this long, even on an F-Rank island. Natura responds to every action we take, but it only escalates when we’re extracting resources from Annwyn, whether directly or through the collaboration of others. Mining, hunting, dungeon diving, you name it. However, it does nothing when we steal from other Expats because we’re not part of this world. Therefore, if your entire arsenal is based on equipment that you’ve stolen, you’ll never have to suffer the consequences at night. The escalation will always be minuscule in comparison to everyone else.”
Sayid gaped, now starting to sit back up himself. “But then how can he be strong enough to take so much in the first place?”
He went another step. “Isn’t it obvious? For the same reason I’ve done so well these past few weeks. His vitality is through the roof, and that is a function of food quality eaten. You and Naomi were wrong for thinking he’s starving the rest of us or that he couldn’t reach D-Rank levels just by upscaling everything handed to him. The fact is that whatever Craft your Expat Core has been tuned to provides reductions across the board, and that includes upscaling. None of what Viktor is doing would be possible if he hadn’t selected the ultimate class first.” He exhaled. “Cooking.”
The very valley seemed to hush with the revelation. Sayid’s jaw dropped. Viktor beamed wide.
And Jay clenched his fist. “By forcing the entire island to extract his food supply with the threat of death, he has managed to mitigate the effects of Rule 5, and by upscaling it into ungodly levels, he can sustain enough strength to never be challenged. Even his bare fists can cut through full plate here.” He narrowed his gaze. “But this is also a strategy that would never, ever lead to any meaningful progression because it is so dependent on everyone else. Viktor needs us to survive. Not as the tyrant he likes to portray himself as, but no more than a lonely parasite feeding off the hard work of others.”
Viktor clapped, hard and slow, his eyes now locked with Jay. He grinned like a devil. “Well, well, Jay Reis, you are even more clever than I thought. It has been much time since someone has figured out this trick. Yes, every word you say is true, but what are you to do now? Even if you know my strengths, can you force any weakness?”
If I can just keep him busy… While the fighting had gone on, everyone had forgotten about the stick grenade that Jay brought to bring Viktor down. It had been lost early in the confrontation, but now that everyone had bounced back and forth, it was sitting so close by, perpendicular to Viktor, where he wasn’t looking.
But the problem was that Jay’s enemy now focused directly on him, and he had no idea how he’d get him to drop his guard long enough.
“Well?” Viktor mocked. “Are you finally out of bold words, or do you have a trick of your own?”
He didn’t, but there was still for someone else to make it work. Jay opened his mouth and continued speaking, calling out every avenue that Viktor had taken to reach this point. He detailed it all under this new lens, explaining the benefits of each step now that he saw them out. Viktor’s confident stare turned perplexed as Jay’s monologue went on.
But Sayid was now rallying to action at his flank, forcing his wounded body into action as he went for the stick grenade. The two had locked eyes the moment before, and a conversation took place between them without words.
People are not chess pieces to be moved on a board, Sayid had explained the day before. They must be driven by faith in one another.
And only now could Jay truly see it. He had never handled relationships with others well. It had always been transactional exchanges at the core, never allowing himself to invest more than necessary. Kevin had accepted him anyway, but he’d repaid his kindness by becoming a terrible friend when the time finally came for him to move on, too trapped in his own world to see the suffering that someone who meant so much to him had gone through. Now, it was too late to repair that relationship.
But there was still hope for others. Even now, even with the Rules in place. So long as Jay trusted others as he’d always trusted himself, there was still a chance for a better future for them all.
And so Jay talked and talked and talked, an obnoxious filibuster that served no purpose but to keep Viktor busy. Long enough for Sayid to recover from his injuries. Long enough to get the only weapon around strong enough to bring their opponent down. Long enough to give them both a chance to see tomorrow.
And Viktor did not see the trap he’d wandered into. Sayid yanked the handle off the grenade and shoved it into Viktor’s pants in one final, desperate motion.
Viktor gaped a second later, seeing the live bomb in his waist. With a yank, he ripped it free and threw.
Too late.
A supernova washed over the valley where the stick grenade had been, waves of heat singing the very earth below. Viktor cried out in agonizing pain, barely audible against the sound of the explosion. Jay tumbled back as the shockwave rolled out.
But still, his heart sank… Even burned, beaten, and covered in Wounds, Viktor still managed to keep himself standing. His eye twitched, arms shuddering where he’d taken the brunt of the attack, and armor-plated fishing vest disintegrating to dust against the volatile heat. He fell to one knee, but did not go down for good.
No! It can’t be. This was it… The final trick… The last desperate move to bring Viktor down for good.
And it had not been enough.
Viktor pointed, eyes burning hotter than the fire behind. “You!” he screamed. He rose again to his feet and began to limp forth.
A howl rolled into the valley a moment later, Misha now closing in to defend his owner.
And Jay stood there, paralyzed. He had nothing else. No tools, no weapons, no trump card to make. Just what had been expended to reach this point.
But before either Viktor or Misha could reach him, Jay was suddenly thrust back, his body like an arrow as it flew to safety. Sayid had managed to get a hold of him, even if his own body was at the cusp of failing. The two soared through the trees, out of immediate harm.
“You are both dead!” Viktor roared, limping in pursuit.
And Jay knew that their enemy meant it.
Name: Jay Reis (Copper Age)
Vitality – ??/99
Hunger – 63/72
Thirst – 19/24
Fatigue – 32/48
Sanity – ??/110
Main Crafts: Alchemy 2, Armor Crafting 2, Base Building 3, Cooking 2, Jewelry 2, Medicine 2, Tailoring 2, Tool Crafting 3, Tinkering 1, Vehicles 1, Weapon Crafting 2.
Weapon Crafts: Axes 5, Bows 9, Clubs 5, Daggers 5, Spears 5, Swords 11.
Armor Crafts: Heavy Armor 5, Light Armor 5, Medium Armor 8, Shields 6.
Sub-Crafts: Curved Swords 5.
Character Skills:
[Forbidden Knowledge]
Armor Skills:
Heavy Armor: [Push], [Stampede]
Medium Armor: [Recover], [Leap], [Waterform], [Quickstep]
Light Armor: [Dash], [Feather Fall]
Shield: [Brace], [Track], [Break]
Weapon Skills:
Axes: [Chop], [Whirlwind]
Bows: [Sharpshooter], [Longshot], [Scattershot Arrow]
Clubs: [Bash], [Paralyze]
Daggers: [Slice], [Flourish]
Spears: [Thrust], [Sweep]
Swords: [Power Attack], [Slash], [Rend], [Shirk], [Violent Storm]
Armor:
[Copperplated Hat+3] (Nightmarish+5), (Buttressed+2), (Hardened+2), (Reinforced+1)
[Copperplated Leggings+3] (Nightmarish+6), (Buttressed+2), (Hardened+2), (Reinforced+1)
[Copperplated Shoes+2] (Nightmarish+3), (Buttressed+2), (Hardened+1), (Reinforced)
[Copperplated Gloves+1] (Nightmarish+2), (Buttressed+2), (Hardened+1), (Reinforced)
[Silver Ring]: Socketed with [Chipped Spinel] (Vitus)
[Silver Ring]: Socketed with [Chipped Spinel] (Vitus)
Weapons:
[Copper Scimitar+6] (Nightmarish+8), (Sharpened+4), (Hardened+4), (Reinforced+2), (Stable+2)
[Treated Bow+1] (Hardened+1): Socketed with [Chipped Ruby] (Ignis)
[Basic Leather Quiver]: Contains 17 [Silver-tipped Arrows] (Elemental+2), (Stability+3) and 3 [Scattershot Arrows] (Elemental+2), (Stability+4)
Tools:
[Copper Knife+3]
[Copper Axe+3]
[Copper Hammer+3]
[Copper Pickaxe+3]
[Copper Shovel+3]
[Basic Grappling Hook]
Boons:
[Minor (Speed)] (x3), [Minor (Sanity)]