City guard combat doctrine was one of the optional courses in the academy, it taught how they worked from a more managerial point of view, with emphasis on the very careful balance between success and sustainability. Which made perfect sense. If you kill today’s monster but don’t have enough bullets left for tomorrow’s, then you are dead meat. It was why training and simulations emphasized on bringing the right gear to the right fight, and disengaging rather than wasting resources.
Every manual, every training, every scenario I’d gone through had prepared me to run away if I was against a monster immune to the weapon I wielded.
Running so hard my lungs were burning up as I tried to avoid the mass of vines from catching up, I was reminded that the shitty Quantex rifle was useless against the wriggler. Not because the bullets couldn’t punch through the vines, but because there was nothing like a convenient core that I could shoot at. The inside of the wriggler was the same as the outside, just a mass of inter-connected vines.
“Just for the record, are you unable to transform or are you just trying to…? Ah, that’s a middle finger, got it.” The scientist’s voice chuckled through the earpiece.
I would’ve said something pyrrhic, but I was too focused on jumping out of the way of the rotting vine that lashed out, trying to grab me.
“You know, you’re not going to get very far if you make stands on silly hills… and there’s the finger again.”
Ducking under the vine, I let out a burst of bullets into the vine. It spasmed and I took the chance to rush behind the nearby tree for cover. Using the time to recover my breath, I carefully kept the tree between myself and the monster as it approached. The wriggler couldn’t lash out horizontally anymore, the tree-trunk cutting down on its vines’ mobility. So it kept whipping downwards, no longer trying to grasp, but to hammer at the ground as if it were a drum.
The E-class was many things, but smart wasn’t one of them.
There was the possibility of running away, but the moment I got too far it’d go around the tree and the chase would start all over again. It would be safer to keep circling around the obstacle for now while I sought an answer.
“Heads’ up, the other one’s coming from your three.”
The bladerunner was limping closer, a trail of effervescent putrid blood left in its wake. For a fraction of a second, I took aim… then stopped. My gaze turned to the wriggler, ducking out of the way of another vine attack.
Keeping an eye on the approaching metal bird, I did my best to maneuver to keep the wriggler between me and it. When it had gotten close enough that I was within range of the limping monster, I made a break straight towards it, eyes locked on to its one good leg.
I could hear the wriggler give chase, thumping loudly behind me.
As soon as the bladerunner kicked at the dirt, I launched myself to the side.
The invisible blade missed me, but not the wriggler. Four of its torso-thick vines were cut through cleanly, each of the limbs falling to the ground and boiling away in clouds of steam. The wriggler didn’t scream, it had no voice, instead it thrashed wildly, squirting its effervescent sap all over.
It began to give chase in a frenzy, far less nimble now that it had fewer tentacles to drag it around.
“Oh.” Moreau’s voice was muted, and I had to imagine she’d just let out a curse.
I grinned, turning right around to circle around the now much slower wriggler, putting it between me and the bladerunner. The bird only had hatred in its eyes, trying to limp around to get at me, throwing cutting attacks that were quickly chipping away at the wriggler. Each cut was one more vine dropped and rotting on the ground.
Monsters had no love for one another. Unless they happened to be of higher classification or of certain types like a hive or pack, then they’d never bother to coordinate. And I took full advantage of that, kiting them both so that the wriggler would get trimmed down, smaller and smaller.
It was still exhausting and exhilarating in equal measure.
There would often not be enough of the wriggler to stop the full attack, the invisible blades making it through. It was a game of tumbling and rolling around, constantly watching out for the next attack while ensuring I kept my distance from the vines reaching out to me.
After a few minutes, the former bus-sized mass of vines had been reduced to barely larger than a person. Small enough that keeping it between myself and the bird was no longer viable. So I took aim at the already mostly-dead bird and opened fire until it collapsed.
Turning my focus to the wriggler, I watched as it kept trying to get closer. It too was mostly dead, barely dragging itself with finger-thick vines. I glared for a moment, wondering how I should do this.
Moreau’s voice came out through the headset with a groan. “Just rip it apart. It shouldn’t pose a threat to you anymore, unless you let it choke you to death.” A heavy sigh followed. “I was looking forward to that data, you know? Learn more about how you tick.”
“I don’t handle being lied to and tricked.” I snarled, clicking the safety on and approaching the monster.
Its many vines lashed out, I grabbed the nearest one… and ripped it off.
Moreau had been right, this was easier than I’d expected. I went to town, grasping and yanking and tearing it until the mutated cluster of vegetation had unraveled on its own.
E-class monster “Wriggler” is dead (cheat) Pick your Reward!
+10 AP / ‘Tentacle’ / ‘Bark’
The text… was pouting? It was definitely pouting. I glanced at the options for a moment, reminded myself what had happened when I’d picked “prickly” and shuddered. Getting my body covered in tentacles or bark was not something I wanted, so I picked the +10, bringing my total to 25 before continuing on to the bird. It was still alive, but barely, unable to move, wheezing, trying to wriggle itself so it could peck me.
That was another thing all monsters had.
I stomped its head rather than waste the bullets.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
E-class monster “Bladerunner” defeated (sigh) Pick your Reward (though you don’t deserve it)!
+10 AP / ‘Blade’ / ‘Air’
The system was definitely pouting at me.
This time I hesitated, looked around once to confirm there were no more monsters, then poked at ‘Blade’. For a moment I expected I’d transform or something, but I just got a pop-up out of it.
‘Blade’ Grade: [G] [1 / 10]
Re-application cost: x10 AP
“That answers that, I guess.” I nodded with a little relief. It looked like the ‘upgrade’ was ‘saved up’ somewhere rather than get applied while I was in my normal form. I’d have to experiment at some point, but by the looks of it I’d need to be transformed to be able to use it.
“Got the notifications?”
“Yes,” I said. “Confirmed no more monsters?”
“There are a few that are sniffing around, the gunfire must have caught their attention. Nothing above F though.” She replied. “At their current rate, they’ll spot you in an hour or two.”
“Could you pass down a magnet-catcher, then? It should only take me twenty minutes to sweep up most of the bullets.”
Why waste materials? If you could shoot the same bullet many times over, then all the better. It was why most munitions were made out of magnetic materials nowadays, once the battle was over you’d pick them up and recycle them into new bullets.
“Unfortunately, that’s going to be a no,” Moreau said. “The amount of fuel we’d spend waiting for you, or for a second takeoff, would cost much more than two magazine’s worth of ammunition you’d recover.” She added a small cackle, one that sent shivers up my spine. “So brace yourself.”
“Wait, whaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”
The harness yanked me off the ground, rocketing me towards the AV as it turned on its engines and began to gain some altitude. The ground underneath me kept getting further and further away, and I could only scream louder, clenching the harness as. The side of the AV opened, a robotic extensor arm stretched out, the harness locking into it as I was then pulled into the vehicle.
With the doors locking down, I was finally released, falling over on wobbly legs.
“Did you HAVE to pull me up that way?”
I glared at the prompt while Moreau cackled. “Maybe next time you’ll play nice.”
My glare intensified. “Maybe next time you won’t throw me at monsters without warning me that I was severely under-armed!”
The doctor stared at me for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. “And how do you imagine megucas operate? They’re the only ones that can manage C-class and above. At those classifications, each one is one giant ball of unknown variables. It’s not like the easy and cozy E’s and F’s that have been studied to death.”
She had enough of a point that I hesitated. “I…” Was I overblowing this? I’d been wearing the harness, at worst she could’ve yanked me out of there if things got ugly. But that didn’t make it right either. “You set down some ground rules.” I pointed an accusing finger at her. “Mine is that I won’t collaborate with you if I can’t trust you.”
Moreau’s brows shot up, digital eye widening.
The silence was uncomfortable, I squirmed after a moment. “What?”
“No… no, nothing, you just reminded me of someone.” She quickly shook her head as if dismissing a thought. “You’re right, of course, collaboration without trust is unideal. I’ll make sure to warn you if the test will involve unknown variables or increased danger.”
“Thanks.”
With a shared nod, I awkwardly shuffled to the seat and buckled myself in. Moreau shot me another look before pulling out her tablet.
+Strength:
. .∟Endurance 5 -> 5+
5 -> 5.002 +Speed:
. .∟Agility 5 -> 5+
5 -> 5.001
“The prompt is doing the nonsensical stat increase again.” I leaned onto the wall as I struggled to remove the harness. “Now I just need to do this fifty more times.” I groaned. “I don’t get why it fumbles the numbers like that.”
Moreau took a second as she inspected her tablet. “Sometimes things are lost in translation.”
“Translation from what?” I asked, to which she shrugged without giving an answer.
I glared at the text for a moment, it was clearly trying to communicate something, but what was the point of the needless decimals? To measure progress? I cocked my head at it. Maybe if it were in percentag-
+Strength:
. .∟Endurance 5 -> 5+
5 -> [15%] +Speed:
. .∟Agility 5 -> 5+
5 -> [10%]
“Point zero zero two is not fifteen percent.” I grumbled, but this time it didn’t change. I had a very distinct impression that it was trying to be earnest, though. Which raised a rather concerning question. “How… objective are the menus from megucas?”
“The third golden rule should be enough of a hint.” Her lips curled downwards. “But I will say that they tend to be more accurate over time.”
“Huh… why?” My question got me a scowl.
“If I knew, there would not be a third golden rule.”
“Nevermind, then.”
Another thought joined the first. Was the system, perhaps, capable of lying? I got the distinct impression that it hadn't done anything out of ill will, which was an odd thought to have when all I could scrutinize from it was a vague feeling. Dismissing the idea, I petulantly poked and prodded at the text, trying to see if I could get more out of the menu, maybe to try and get it to be more informative. But I didn’t get too far before I just gave up trying to make heads or tails of it all. In a sense, it felt like I wasn’t so much trying to alter a system, but more like asking someone to describe a thing in a different way.
“By the way.” Moreau spoke up while keeping her attention on her tablet. “Your performance down there was much better than what I’d expected. You got lucky, but making proper use of luck is a skill in itself.” She spoke so softly I wouldn’t have heard it over the rattling of the AV if not for my better sense of hearing. "If it's worth anything, I think you would've done decently enough as a guard recruit."
I preened a little at that. “Th-”
“I’ll make sure to account for that next time.”
Crossing my arms, I kept my thanks to myself.