Connor considered the paper before him.
Questions? Questions? And More Questions?
Then BOY, do we have answers for YOU!
Come to the Sect Fortress at 8 a.m., tomorrow,
And we’ll give you all the answers you want for the low low price of $5.99!
That’s right - the low low price of $5.99!
Every fibre in his body was screaming that this was a trap, but he controlled himself. Death was nearby, but hidden, so he couldn’t call for her assistance; it was best to see the strange creatures off, then confer with her in private.
“You’ll have to forgive me - I’m new to the region, and have never heard of the Sect Fortress before. Could I trouble you greatly to give me directions, before you head on your way?”
The strange creature merely huffed. “No need for formality, sir - no need for formality. Over the hill, beyond the valley; over the hill, beyond the valley. Tomorrow at 8 a.m.; the next day, 8 p.m.; every day, 8 p.m. An honour, sir, an honour.”
And with those cryptic (and, to be frank, largely inactionable) words the creature turned on its spiny heel, and departed. This information wasn't especially useful to Connor - there were many hills and valleys nearby - but he didn't push the point; it was only a matter of time before he found the fortress anyways, and if questions were answered there on the daily it wasn't like he was on a tight schedule. (Though he had no clue how to pay $5.99 in this world's currency.)
He stayed in the middle of the road, watching the creatures leave, until eventually Death deemed it safe enough to drift out and join him. Without a word, he handed her the notice.
There was a short pause as she manifested her physical body and read through the paper, followed by, “well this is obviously a trap.”
“I’m glad we’re agreed on that front. Did you still want to go?” Connor asked idly.
“Mmm, maybe not by the front door. We could sneak in,” Death commented.
Connor raised one eyebrow. “It’s a bit illogical to plan to sneak into a building we’ve never seen.”
“Still,” Death persisted, “we need to check it out, but this region is too obviously cursed - and something clearly happened in this city, which is all but certainly related to the Sect Fortress. There’s no way I can justify just waltzing in there.”
Connor scratched his cheek. “Fair enough. It’s not like we have any other leads. I can’t detect any other abnormalities nearby with [Geocaching], so it must be out of range, anyways. What would you like to do?”
“Go in a circle.”
Connor gave Death an expressionless look, prompting her to blush and hurriedly clarify her point. “I don’t mean in a uniform circle - we should go in a circle, but make it ever larger, so we cover ever greater volumes of ground while broadening your range as much as possible.”
“So a spiral.”
“A spiral,” Death concurred.
“Sounds like a plan, Stan,” Connor affirmed, to which Death replied, “I’m not Stan.”
True to their plans (Stans), Death and Connor began walking in a series of ever greater circles around the abandoned city, Death floating high through the air to scan the surroundings and Connor using his [Geocaching] skill.
He was walking through another copse of forest on the far side of the city, his search still bearing no fruit, when Death descended from the sky.
“Find something?” Connor called out as she floated towards him, but she only shook her head.
“No; I came down because there are storm clouds on the horizon. We should seek shelter and resume our search after the rain passes.”
As it happened there was a cleft in the ad-coated rock nearby which had enough of a ceiling to count as a cave - although Connor wasn't sure how much protection the rock would provide once the paper was melted off, or even if there was rock under the paper - and which ran deep enough that they could spend the night there if need be.
His concerns were unwarranted. The clouds Death had seen did gather, drifting black and gloomy across the horizon, but what they poured forth was not a rain of water but a rain of advertisements.
They fell down, little balls of inky black letters hitting the ground with a splash. Each time they impacted the earth barely muttered words could be heard, promising fifty percent off discounts and savings like you wouldn't believe.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“You know, I'm really starting to hate this region,” Connor declared, as the flames from their advertisement fire flickered with the words of world famous products in the gloaming.
“I suppose you could say you don't feel Sehnsucht for your past life, ba dum tsh,” Death said.
“I know you're joking, but to be honest, that was one of the worst parts of being a phone - I spent half my life staring at those things,” Connor remarked, slowly toasting his bread over an ethereal offer for luxury shampoo. “But hey, at least I know the number one secret to good skincare.”
“What is it?” Said Death, thinking of her own skincare regime.
“It's a special cream, which you can buy for the low low price of fourteen payments of $39.99,” Connor replied, his voice totally neutral. There was a protracted moment of silence before Death burst into laughter. Connor chuckled more softly alongside her.
They wrapped up dinner and, the advertisement storm not yet done venting its award-winning fury, the pair retreated further into the cave to meditate - Connor, practising his Body Regeneration Technique; Death, on the future of fluffy puppies that was floating ever farther from her grasp.
The night was growing ever darker, the storm ever more furious, as Connor sat quietly cycling his qi and trying to ignore the small sense of satisfaction which welled up at seeing the qi move through his now firm meridians.
[Ding! Congratulations to the Host. Leaves +1]
Leaves…? Connor thought to himself, putting one hand to his head, where any leaves would be growing. To his immense surprise, he felt a thin layer of fuzz on top of his head.
“Oh hey, you’re finally growing hair,” he heard Death remark from across the fire.
“At last, the strength buff I was looking for,” he deadpanned.
After that he cycled qi for a while longer, hoping to boost some of his actual combat stats, but it seemed he’d used up his luck for the week - morning came without any further stat boosts.
“Well, at least it’s only a matter of time before I can brush my long, luscious locks,” he joked to himself as he climbed to his feet. Death was already outside the cave, examining the advertisements plastered to the ground. She didn’t even look up at his approach.
“They’re the same advertisements as they were before the storm - which is to say, last night’s rain of advertisements didn’t stick.”
“Of course they didn’t,” Connor yawned. “That’s because the rain advertisers only purchased the Temporary Advertisement Plan, not the Permanent one.”
Death froze, halfway up off the ground. “Wait, are you joking? These advertisements are actually real?”
Connor considered this. “I don’t see any reason why not. It makes far more sense that these advertisements were designed and paid for by real companies, rather than that whoever pulp-erised this region spent aeons designing thousands of unique but entirely fake advertisements. The more interesting question is why, exactly, someone would coat an entire region in ads, going so far as to modify the weather in their quest.”
Death shivered. “Honestly, that makes it a little worse - it means it isn’t just one group that’s responsible for the sorry state of Old Sehnsucht.”
“Mmm. All the more reason to solve this case quickly,” Connor concurred, ruffling Death’s hair.
The morning’s search was no more fruitful than was yesterday’s, and the pair were beginning to worry about how long, exactly, it would take them to find the Sect Fortress when they found themselves surrounded.
Connor had sensed them coming, of course - a dozen small, quick shapes moving swiftly across the landscape, approaching their exact location. Nevertheless, Death and he had decided to allow them to reach their position, reasoning either that the shapes were friends, in which case meeting them was beneficial, or that they were foes, in which case it was only a matter of time before they fought each other anyways.
The dozen shapes burst through the paper clearing, revealing themselves to be goblins. They circled around the pair of exorcists, pointing guns at their heads.
Death and Connor raised their hands in the air, signifying that they were harmless, and waited patiently until the goblins had formed a loose formation about them. The monsters were tiny - only a little over three feet tall - with ears like bat’s wings and long, hooked noses. They dressed like they’d walked right out of a Western, wearing long coats over their vests, and carried bolt action rifles in their hands.
In spite of their threatening positions, neither Connor nor Death allowed any fear or worry to show on their faces. There was no reason to think the goblins were friends with the strange beasts they’d seen in town, and sudden movements could only exacerbate the situation.
“No need to be so wary, friends. We come in peace and goodwill,” Death commented, but the goblins made no reply. The entire group merely stood there, stock still, watching warily, until another shape entered the clearing.
This one manifested as a very small young woman in the traditional dress of a Confucian lady. Her expression was hidden behind her weimao, the only discernible feature of her face the ahoge twitching expressively. Her arms were folded in her sleeves, and her voice was deceptively peaceful as she began to quiz the pair.
“So, spies, tell us - what fraudulent advertisements were you planning to install this time?”
The pair of ‘spies’ waved their hands above their hands, to emphasise their surrender.
“I’m afraid you mistake our purpose. We haven’t been in this region for more than two days,” Connor protested. “We’re not spies - in fact, we have nothing but the friendliest of intentions.”
This reply, far from alleviating the lady’s evident rage, merely made it all the more cold and suspicious, and Connor was worrying about what exactly she was planning to do next when a very familiar (and very strange) acquaintance of theirs popped into the clearing.
“Yooo, Connor, Death, didn’t think I’d see you two again. What’s up?” Art asked.
Connor’s Stats:
Name: Connor Crinkle (formerly known as uPhone 12 model MX0169)
Age: 22
Race: Ghost of a Demon
Occupation: Exorcist
Physiological Stats:
[Leaves] 0 -> 1 [Fruit] 0
[Xylem] 2 [Phloem] 2
[Bark] 3 [Heartwood] 4
[Roots] 5
Physical Stats:
[Geocaching] 2 [Lacrosse] 2
[Pole Vaulting] 3 [Rugby] 2
Other sports to be unlocked later
Master of the Leifu Exorcistic Arts:
[Master of Exorcism] 3
[Master of the Storm] 0
[Yang Eyes] 2