The last time Hiro had left his fallout shelter, he had done so through an entrance to the subway system, where he encountered a Spectator.

Which reminds me, he thought as he looked at the ladder leading up to the hatch of his fallout shelter. Fewer Spectators were supposed to mean fewer followers get sacrificed when we purchase things, but everything’s Soul Cash-based now, and there’s a randomized multiplier. The Doom System lied to us. Or maybe it hasn’t. I will need to visit a merchant to see for myself.

A memory came to him of the merchant that had asked for cash. Her name had been Penny, and she was dressed like a Beauty Queen from what Hiro could recall. I’m going to assume her request for cash meant Soul Cash... He added that to his mental to-do list.

Also, a bodyguard. An idea had already formed at the mention of this new mechanic, but he wasn’t ready to explore it yet. He would need to get desperate to do something like that.

He glanced at Hachi. “We’re taking the ladder. Bianca will help you.”

The dog grunted in response.

“What about the bear? We can’t just stuff her in the backpack,” Bianca said as Hiro moved toward Chronokuma.

“The Doom System suggested I get a sling for it, but I don’t have anything like that right now.”

“Her. She’s a her. I haven’t named her yet, but I’m thinking of going with one of the Disney princess names. We’ll see.” Bianca, who was still propped against the box of supplies, continued rocking the teddy bear in her tentacles.

“She’s going in the backpack for now. She’s asleep, isn’t she?”

“I think…” Bianca brought the teddy bear closer to her shield face. “Seems like so.”

“Good.” Hiro carefully took the bear from her and placed it in the backpack. As he did, he noticed it was warm—and felt like it was breathing. He left the top of the bag slightly open. I could zip it up around her neck, but that might hurt her...

He started to try anyway.

“She’s not going to like that.”

“We’ll try to get a sling for her,” he assured Bianca as she climbed onto his back, wrapping her tentacles securely around his arm. “I don’t know how much time we have to deal with this Sentry, but I think it’s important we do it.” He explained how the title upgrade would benefit them. “Plus, it’ll give us other things. I’m low on skills after what happened when the gate opened.”

Hiro remembered being instructed to pick two Roulette Skills or Accessories for the Second Interim. He had chosen Hachi and Bianca. Looking back, he realized it had been a good strategy. Bianca watches my back and keeps me company. Hachi doesn’t provide company, but he’s aggressive—and probably useful when Survivors start hiring Hunters.

The problem was that most of his Roulette-based skills and items had been stripped away. He didn’t have much beyond his One Hit Wonders like {GoFundMerc}, {Scania the Piss Disc Mimic}, or {North Korean Feces Balloons}.

There were also his phantom demon cats and the {Stan} power, which allowed him to control lower-ranked opponents. And of course, there were weapons: his Kiri Yōso Vape Pen, katana, and the enormous odachi he could summon at will.

As Hiro found his duct tape, he felt the prayer beads shift under his shirt. {Thoughts and Prayers}, what a useless power.

“Are you sure you have everything?” Bianca asked.

Hiro quickly finished wrapping his arms and legs in armored duct tape, adding a layer around the toes of his shoes. “Steel-toed. Or something like it.” He checked his vape pen cartridges: Anti-Fear and Poison. He also readjusted the teddy bear in his backpack, placing Survivor Tenders in an old Tupperware container so she couldn’t eat them when she woke up. He added two energy drinks—Smoke Zero and Smellicious—a freshly filled water bottle, and the medical supplies he still had.

“Here we go,” he said as he moved to the ladder, Hachi following. Bianca helped the dog up, and soon, Hiro stood on the parking garage’s entry floor. He turned toward the gate, hovering in the air, currently closed.

“I don’t see anyone,” Bianca said. “I thought Val and Samuel might come back here, but why would they? What’s-her-name’s body is gone.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Rena.”

“Yeah, her. I’m bad at names.”

Hiro scanned the buildings until he spotted a lime-green beacon radiating through the structures. “There it is. Let’s go.”

He bounded to the nearest rooftop. The sensation felt different but only lasted a moment. Then another realization struck him as he looked out over the city: it was filled with advertisements.

Everywhere.

“Are you seeing this?” Bianca asked.

“It’s not at all what I would have expected,” he said.

The city was darker than in the First Interim, which had been defined by the Solar Eclipse gloom. Now it was bathed in a permanent twilight, the streets lit by glowing ads: Coca-Cola, United Healthcare, M&Ms, Lockheed Martin missile defense systems, Netflix, Prime Day deals, and more. There were ironic offerings too—classified document locators, execution services, thief guilds, and other nefarious options.

“This is going to suck,” Hiro said.

“That’s what makes it fun, right?”

“There’s nothing fun about this,” Hiro replied.

“I’m just trying to stay optimistic. What the hell else am I supposed to do as a shield?”

“I guess…” He thought through the options. “We handle the Sentry and move toward Samuel and Val, if that’s viable. And check a merchant along the way. We stick to rooftops and maybe move through buildings instead of bouncing around. Low profile. Come on,” he said, pushing onward toward Zuccotti Park. Landing on a fire escape, Hiro used his armored elbow to break through a window.

“You’re going to wake Mishka.”

“Who?” He stepped into what appeared to be a design studio. The smell hit him immediately. A rope hung from a beam above, body fluids pooled below, but the body itself was gone. The Doom System must have removed all the bodies, including ones that had been around for a while.

“Mishka,” Bianca said as they moved down a hallway.

“You keep saying that like I should know what it is.

“They didn’t have that in Japan?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“My mom was Ukrainian. She used to show me Masha and the Bear on YouTube. Mishka was the big bear’s name, but I think it’s also a Russian man’s name. Or something. Fuck it. Doesn’t matter. The bear’s name is Mishka, and she’s sleeping. Breaking windows—”

“Shhhh.” Hiro silenced her as he sensed movement. A rat scurried away. “Good, just a rat. And I’ll have to break windows to get through some buildings.”

“Okay, but if you wake Mishka, you’ll be sorry.”

Hiro opened the next window and stepped out, spotting a Survivor on the street below. She examined Hachi curiously, who sat there watching her. When she reached out, Hachi snarled and snapped his teeth, making her jump back. Hiro prepared to draw his katana, but the woman took off running—faster than anyone he’d seen yet. She ran so fast she left a mark on the sidewalk. Crazy.

Hiro continued, reaching a balcony. “The door’s open,” he told Bianca.

“Isn’t that convenient.”

“It happens at this height.” Hiro entered the apartment, the darkness broken only by the glare of ads outside. He checked the bathroom after clicking on his carabiner light. A toothpaste-stained mirror reflected his stubble, messy hair, and glowing eyes. For a moment, he thought he looked like a demon.

Maybe I am.

Rummaging through the drawers, he found an unopened bottle of Zyrtec and read the warning label: “May cause drowsiness. Avoid alcohol beverages while using this product. I’ll find something else to add to it.” He popped open the mirror. “Bingo. Hydrocodone. Risk of addiction, abuse, and misuse. May cause respiratory depression. Do not combine with alcohol or other depressants.”

“Pharmacists would hate you.”

He smirked at Bianca’s comment, added some over-the-counter Tylenol, and mixed the two medicines together. “This should do it. It will mostly be the hydrocodone doing the heavy lifting, but the others are going to make it nice and spicy. Chaotic.”

“See? Pharmacists would hate you.”

“Post-apocalyptic Shkreli,” Hiro said.

“Who?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep moving.”

Hiro raided a few more apartments, where he found everything from Zoloft and Metformin to Ompeprazole and Alprazolam. “Bingo again,” he said as he mixed more of the medicines.

“Your Mimic Bottles go hard.”

“They do. And they work.” Once he was ready, Hiro took the fire escape to a building overlooking Zuccotti Park. The green beacon led to a bronze sculpture of a man sitting on a bench, his briefcase open.

“How’s Mishka?” Bianca asked as he scanned the park below.

“Seems fine to me,” Hiro told her.

Zuccotti Park wasn’t like some of the other parks in the City, which were quaint and small, a place to escape the madness. It was a neatly organized rectangular space nestled among the skyscrapers of lower Manhattan, one with evenly spaced trees that provided a patchwork of greenery, but were now bare. Hachi was already there, the dog now in a position behind the man.

“Got him.” Hiro bounced to a building behind the statue known as Double Check.

He dropped down to the street as quietly as possible, and watched Hachi come around, the dog instantly going alert upon seeing the Sentry. Bianca crawled over his shoulder and affixed herself to his arm while Hiro reached up and pulled his enormous odachi out of thin air, prepared to open up the attack with an amplified {Blade Whirlwind).

But Mishka had other plans.

The teddy bear came alive in his backpack and began to cry, her sobs instantly drawing the Sentry’s attention. The statue stood, and turned to Hiro as items scattered out of his bronze briefcase.

A red dome appeared, followed by a health bar. Hiro was trapped. His hope for a surprise attack was ruined.