Hector smiled as he walked down the street, looking over his stats. Jodie and Mirae followed behind him. It was a hard fight, but it had been more than worth it in the end.
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Hector Jacaranda
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Cultivation level: [Gravity Forging - 1]
Spirit Root: Moon
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STATS
├─ Body │ Tier 0 │ Level ( I )
├─ Mind │ Tier 0 │ Level ( - )
└─ Spirit │ Tier 0 │ Level ( - )
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EQUIPMENT
└─ None
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TALENTS
└─ Hearty Body +0 [•○○] (1/3) — Quickening Brace +0 [•○○] (1/3)
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TECHNIQUES:
└─ [Orion Fist] (Journeyman: 90%) — [Orion Leaping Strike] (Novice: 20%)
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Hector had acquired the Talent [Quickening Brace]. And it was as he thought. The skill was related to speed. Specifically, when he had the intention of striking a target, time would seem to almost slow down, allowing him to deal another physical blow on his enemy. It was a strong Talent, though it did have the downside of taking an hour to become usable again. But that could be remedied by finding another [Quickening Brace].
Hector kissed his teeth as he sidestepped a man lugging his cart of goods down the main street. The streets weren’t packed, but there were definitely a good handful of people. Probably not the best place to stand and gawk over his stats.
But he couldn’t help himself; he was growing. And when the system finished upgrading, he would grow even more. A thought then came to his head: when he was fighting that group, the man hadn’t used his Talent once. It didn’t consume mana, but he seemed not to even realize that he possessed the Talent. It was strange—perhaps one had to train themselves in order to use it, or at the very least be aware that they could.
I’ll have to do some testing in the future, Hector thought.
He glanced at his side, and a smile came to his lips. Mirae walked beside him, lugging her basket along with both hands clasped firmly around its handle. She had a determined look on her face. No doubt her future journey as a Mana-cultivator had sparked a fire within her.
“Thanks again, Jodie,” Hector said, turning his head to his other side with an appreciative look. “You’ve given us—”
“Oh shut it,” Jodie said, brushing her ginger hair behind her ear. “You’ve spent too many years training while staring out that window. It’s a distraction to you and to the rest of the dojo. This way, you can focus on actually getting better. Or one day I’m gonna surpass you and you’ll never catch up.”
Hector’s mouth hung open amidst Jodie’s chuckle as she gracefully sidestepped another pedestrian. The idea of her surpassing him wasn’t far-fetched, but it was uncomfortable. Not because he didn’t think she could, but because with her battle insight, she could very well do it.
A gust of wind blew down the street, blowing through Jodie’s long ginger hair, which she had let down after leaving the dojo. She frowned and cursed, grabbing her hair before looking at Hector. “But don’t worry, I doubt I’ll be surpassing you anytime soon.”
“I—most definitely will,” said Mirae, grunting as she hefted the basket so it could more comfortably rest on her hip. “... Brother, you know I love you, right?”
“Give it,” Hector reached forward and took the basket from her, and she cheered and jumped, hugging his arm.
“See, this is why I love you.”
“Okay, whatever. Come on, we have to hurry up—we don’t want to keep the guys waiting.”
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Hector placed the basket down, resting it up against the wall of Hilda’s fountain. He didn’t need to hold it in his hands, and Mirae didn’t want to hold it on her lap. But that was fine. She’d had a tough day and if she didn’t want to hold her flower basket, she didn’t have to.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I hope we don’t forget it here. It’s not much, but these flowers could pay for our next bowl of grime-grain.
His mouth went dry at the thought. They wouldn’t always have plums to combat the dry taste. He slumped down onto the edge of the fountain, careful not to kick the basket, and looked at his friends. “So, about the pickpocketing operation? We have the general plan, right?” he asked, inclining his head to Marcus. “We meet up at his dad’s stall. Then go about our separate ways, picking the pockets of anyone we come across—but especially nobles.”
“Yeah, about the plan. I’m having my doubts,” Lincoln said, wringing his hands. His gaze darted about as he stammered. “I didn’t mind at first. I mean, the festival or the farm, it didn’t matter. But thinking about it again, it’s the Hilda festival we’re talking about. Are we forgetting that the place will be crawling with Phoenix Company initiates, just looking to make themselves look good?”
Hector frowned and regarded Lincoln—his hair was a mess, and his tunic was tattered. Not any different from how he usually was, but his behaviour was strange. Sure, it would be harder with the Phoenix Company present, but that didn’t mean the operation should be scrapped. “So, what are you suggesting?”
Lincoln glanced at Jodie before looking straight to the ground and taking a breath. “I think we should reconsider the farm.”
“No!” Jodie said, shaking her head. “We discussed this last time.”
“But—”
“But what, Lincoln?” Jodie snapped, taking a step forward on the cracked plaza tile. “If you are so desperate to go and beat up some Farmhands, go and do it. But no one here is going with you.” Jodie’s eyes scanned the group as if looking for someone to challenge her.
Emela cleared her throat and gestured towards Lincoln. “I think he’s just worried about our safety. The Phoenix Company are no pushovers. Even if it’s the initiates, we should still be careful. Actually, it leads into what I wanted to bring up with you all today.” She strode over to the fountain’s edge, gently set herself down next to Hector, and crossed her legs.
Nyx walked up to Emela and stood at her side with her usual placid look. Emela again cleared her throat before she continued.
Is she getting sick or something?
“I think there are people and places at the festival that we should avoid targeting. Specifically, high-end areas,” she said, giving a pointed look to Jodie. “Not everyone is a target we can handle, and some areas will be worse for us than others.”
Hector tapped his foot on the tile, resisting the urge to stand up and pace. She was right, and to a certain extent, so was Lincoln. The Hilda’s Festival, while not the biggest event in Middlec—the Middlec tournament was still at least two years away. The festival was no small street party. The Phoenix Company paid for a lot of it and would certainly want to ensure that it went off without too much of a hitch.
Hector rested a hand on the fountain’s edge and looked first to Lincoln. “If you don’t want to do this, I get it. But I have to help my dad. To be honest, taking part in this operation goes against what he’s taught me. But I can’t sit around and do nothing.” Lincoln nodded and looked to the ground like a disappointed child.
Hector then brought his attention to Emela. “You seem to have a plan already if you’ve been thinking about who to avoid.”
“Well—”
Before she could finish, Nyx leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Emela pursed her lips and seemed to reconsider whatever it was she was about to say. “I haven’t got too much of a plan. I want to avoid some people and areas, that’s all.”
Okay, that’s kinda weird. But then again, it’s Nyx and Emela.
He sighed as he pushed off the rim of the fountain and walked over to Marcus, placing a hand on his back while gesturing to sit in his now vacant spot. Marcus had been getting more and more anxious as the conversation continued, and Hector didn’t need him zoning out while they all tried to come up with a plan.
Emela raised an eyebrow at his actions but said nothing, while his sister gave Marcus a bright beaming smile and nudged the flower basket out of the way with her foot. The basket almost tipped over, but before it did, she hefted it onto her other side and thumped it down onto the plaza tile.
“So we don’t have a serious plan, but a general one. I can’t say I like that,” Hector said, frowning as he began to pace back and forth. Each step loosened, the tightening anxiety twisting in his gut. “We need roles, we need operation sites, we need to have an escape route in case it all goes to hell.”
“Hell?” Jodie asked. “Where is that?”
Hector shook his head as he continued pacing. “Never mind that. I want us all to establish roles now.” He looked at all five of the people before him and considered what he knew about them.
“I can bring lunch,” Mirae said enthusiastically. “It’s not much, but a few hard-dough sandwiches made from the fruit in our garden should be alright.”
You know what? I’d rather she do that than be involved with anything else.
He nodded at his sister and gave her a warm smile. “So, we have our chef, good. Anyone else got any roles they want to fulfill?”
Jodie cocked her head and rocked back on her foot as she crossed her arms. “I don’t want to sound rude, but aren’t we just taking people’s money and running off—if we’re seen? If not, walk off. No need to draw attention.” She smiled at his sister. “I don’t think anyone needs a defined role aside from our sweet Mirae.”
She then turned to Hector. “What I think we should be discussing is how we are going to split the loot.” She glanced at everyone, her gaze looking eerily similar to instructor Kamble when he wanted to make sure everyone was paying attention. “I don’t mind having it, so sixty percent of the total haul goes to Hector. As he’s said, he’s in a bit of a pickle right now, and I’d rather not hear about Mr. Jacaranda being beaten to death.”
A brief silence passed over the group as they let what Jodie said settle in. Mirae let out a low whimper, and Hector walked over to comfort her. Memories of what she’d said in the kitchen surfaced in his mind. She’d seemed so certain he would die, and it looked like she hadn’t gotten over that.
“Jodie,” Emela said, narrowing her eyes at the ginger girl. “Can you not be more careful with how you phrase things? It’s not ladylike at all.”
Jodie huffed and shrugged her shoulders. But Hector couldn’t blame her—Jodie’s brashness was sometimes needed. She would often be the one to jump in and help with a fight, no questions asked. Though he was sure, that was mainly because she loved to fight.
“No, no. I agree with Hector,” Marcus said, playing with the ends of his suit. “We will be using my dad’s booth as a meeting spot, but we won’t know where anyone will be going or doing. If something bad happens, how will we know where to look for the others? I think we need a clear plan and contingencies.”
“I agree as well,” Emela said, giving Marcus a quaint smile. “I think we should pair up. With each pair working in a specific area of the festival.”
“That sounds good,” Hector said. “Anything else?”
“I think one of the areas we should avoid pickpocketing in is the central area of the festival,” Marcus said, looking up from playing with the ends of his suit coat. “Specifically, the area with my dad’s stall. If something goes wrong there, then it’s over and my dad will kill me.”
“That would be the least of your worries if they link your dad’s stall with the operation,” Jodie said with a chuckle, but still nodding at the end. “That has to be one of the areas we avoid doing stuff in. We don’t want to draw the guards or the Phoenix company to our HQ.”
Hector smiled and nodded. It seemed that ideas were starting to flow, even from Jodie. He looked up at the mid-afternoon sun. There was still some daylight to burn—it was time to get a concrete plan.
“Alright, guys, I want to hear what everyone thinks,” Hector smiled at Lincoln, giving what he hoped was reassurance. “Especially you Lincoln, we need to work together on this.”