FA Chapter 11 Contemplating the Future

Day 11/February/2973

"Hello John."

Bosingwa greeted the man that was standing right by the entrance of the building. There was no warmth within his voice, just like when speaking about the weather. The reason for that was simple, the man was the landlord.

For as long as he had known John, there had never been an answer to his greetings. Apparently, getting friendly with the customers was a surefire way for them to screw him over. Of course the man hadn't said it himself. Instead, it had been from the rumors of those other tenants.

Those beady eyes of the short man scanned him with a scrutiny afforded to a stranger. Bosingwa had never liked those eyes. They were way too calculative. And if it wasn't for the fact that he knew with absolute certainty that they were as normal as they could get, he would have suspected them capable of seeing through his secrets.

He sped up his pace, passing by the man as if he were running away from him. This course of action wasn't one only he took. There were some who outright refused to look the man in the eye. Bosingwa and many others would have vacated this building if they had had to meet the man physically in order to pay, something that was thankfully done via the neural link.

He exhaled after stepping onto the hovering platform that worked as the elevator for the people living within the higher floors. It was just a flat platform with railings on the side for safety. Bosingwa suspected that the John had cut it close with the safety measures. He only survived being shut down or asked to get a proper elevator due to the fact that the building was below ten floors.

Upon opening the door to his tiny apartment, he was greeted with the thought that maybe the accommodations that had been provided by Miss Bora were far better.

The reason he was here in the first place was the fact that they had been given a day off. Training had been great and all, but since they were newbies to the life of a Forger, it was required that they have some breaks. And apparently, Miss Bora's father was a very powerful man. Anyone who would try to attack any of his descendants within the building wouldn't be able to escape.

Bosingwa agreed with the assessment. The man was renowned for the mystery of his powers, and that none had survived after issuing him a challenge.

One time, even Musana himself had formally challenged the man only to be turned down politely.

He grimaced as a stench made its way into his heightened sense of smell, and he could even deduce the true origins of every individual scent. Luna had exhorted them to keep their spiritual energy always active within their body, such that they get used to their superior bodies. After all, it wouldn't do anyone any good if a handshake or a hug with a normal person sent them to the hospital, or into death's embrace.

The stench was emanating from a bunch of things, like his unwashed laundry and the decaying food crumbs. He wouldn't even be surprised if some microorganisms had set up some sort of micro ecosystem within some places.

"It looks like I will have to clean." He removed his jacket and threw himself into the house chores. Being in Miss Bora's employ was only going to last to the end of the month, where he would have to come back to his tiny apartment.

Minutes passed as he worked, having aired out the room by opening the window.

He sat down after everything had been taken care of, a mug with a dose of caffeine within his hands. He let himself be absorbed by the sofa, which calmed him down enough to enter a state of tranquility.

The last few days had been a blast and a blur. And this was the first time that he was going to have the luxury of thought.

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His dream of awakening had been realised. 20 years of hard work and resolve had finally borne fruit. And now, here he was.

Now that he had finally become a Forger, he could start upon the next phase of his dream, epic battles!

Countless nights had been spent imagining, visualising how he would go about taking on some of the more famous Forgers, Musana included.

A sigh escaped his lips as he lamented his current circumstances where he was just at the gaseous spiritual stage. The legends he wanted to tussle with already had a massive headstart, being in the crystal stage and all.

But his excitement didn't die down for even a moment as with his newfound powers, he was sure that whatever altercation he ended up in would be epic. He had already gained a taste during the training.

Plans had to be made for what was next after the end of the month where his contract to Miss Bora would expire.

He leaned back into the seat, taking a sip from his mug. His body was now clad in an oversized shirt and a loose pair of pants that were only held to his waist by a tied string.

Bosingwa considered the only option that his mind could conjure up, and that was to take on missions. Even before he had awakened to become a Forger he had heard of such missions, with most of them being offered by the Forger association, or through it.

His plan was to take upon those that required combat such that he could taste it. The thrill of battle.

"Followers..."

The word simply escaped his lips as the next phase of his plan entered his mind. Though, those two could be performed simultaneously. Bosingwa felt excited by the prospect of having people who had his same goals and aspirations, those that he would treat like brothers or sisters. But there was one massive hurdle to overcome... Trust.

That issue gave him a headache while pondering it. Placing them under his control would leave a bitter taste in his mouth. They would be akin to puppets, not people. That was a big no.

"Ice, Flame, and Mrs. Namatovu."

Those three names that left his lips were those he was sure he could trust if they decided to follow them. He had observed them studiously, managing to pick out traits and qualities he liked even though the people themselves didn't know yet.

Then there was Larssen. The man was an enigma. His thoughts a mystery that couldn't be deciphered. He was too whimsical, too unpredictable to be placed into any mold. Drekov wasn't someone that he could even consider. The man was untrustworthy, not to mention that dangerous mouth of his that spewed words capable of attracting trouble.

"Hmmm!?"

Upon wanting to take another sip of the coffee, he tilted the cup only for his mouth to feel nothing, dragging his awareness from within to reality. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he had failed to notice the fact that he had drank the entire beverage. Syncing with neural link told him that a little bit over an hour had elapsed since his collapsing within the sofa.

It looked like he was going to have to search for something else to occupy his time. Contacting the others would only make it obvious how he had zero friends, so he was going to have to try and come up with something.

Entering the virtual world had become less appealing after awakening, as if he wouldn't be able to satisfy his urges.

As he was walking towards the small corner where the dishwasher was located, a sound entered his ears. The sound of feet arriving at his door step.

Alarm crept into his eyes at the fact that whatever or whoever was standing by the door was masking everything about themselves. His nose, as powerful as it had become hadn't managed to pick up any scent!

This was a Forger! And judging by their stealthy movements, they weren't a friend!

His heart rate sped up, bringing about a cascade of effects, from his blood speeding up, to the release of adrenaline, to the increase in his brain activity, where many options were being considered then discarded instantly, as he searched for any way he could handle this.

One of those options entailed leaping from his window. But he hurriedly discarded that option upon taking into account the strength of the window barricades. They would slow him down even with his enhanced strength.

His eyes flickered as he came up with an idea. Something that might save him from this predicament.

Applying force upon the floor from his feet, he dashed towards the door, with the aim of striking first to catch his opponent off guard only for the door to abruptly enlarge within his eyes as it sped towards him.

The man had just pushed the door towards him, having blasted the damn thing from its hinges. Bosingwa didn't even get to have the time of considering whether his assailant had discovered his plans, or had simply chosen destruction as the optimal choice to break into the apartment.

"Hyah!"

With a shout, he placed his palms upon the projectile that was the door only for his forward momentum to be arrested.

"BOOM!"

Bosingwa felt his muscles and bones strain as something made an impact with the halted door, with the force of the impact pushing him back to the far side of the room, where his back crashed into the wall next to the dishwasher.

He hurriedly discarded the door, which fell to the aide with an audible clang as his eyes took in the intruder.