Getting back to Jimmy and explaining what happened was rather quick. By then, Sarah had gotten quite pale—with black veins running from the wound. Likely, if Colt had to guess, some other ability related to that Corrupter class.

Jimmy got to work as soon as he saw her, conjuring a white light between his hands as he bent over and began to apply it to the wound. The black veins lashed back, forming a smokey barrier. Jimmy doubled down, his eyebrows furrowed as the light in his hand brightened.

Still, nothing.

A bead of sweat ran down Jimmy’s brow, and he began to puff for breath. The difference between his skill and the sheer levels that Bill had on him was evident. At this rate, Sarah would die from whatever type of poison he’d been inflicted with.

Colt thought about it. That disease that had been wormed into her. Corrupting, a blow that would promise her death.

His knife came easy to his hand, the blade semi-transparent as the spirit steel glistened as they reflected from above. It was a sharp blade, but then, what were scalpels? Weren’t they just sharp knives used to incise and cut out disease?

As the thought latched in his head, he felt himself slip into that same state of awareness. Though his eyes were open and his body was moving, he could picture his edict twisted around in his soul.

This, too, was a way to use cuts—a surgical precision meant to remove what didn’t belong.

Colt slid past Jimmy, touching his shoulder and pushing him ever so lightly away. There was protesting from the healer, but the words didn’t register. No, all that Colt saw below was the black veins hidden behind the smoke screen that was receding now. He saw all the tiny cuts he would make, each a delicate, precise twitch of his wrist.

The knife tip went in; then the smoke tried to stop it.

A tiny pull of his Edict made a precise line on his blade—and like that, it severed the black fog, dispelling it with a single cut; then he went in, his mind somewhere else as his hand the work it needed to.

One cut here, around the black vein, another cut there, each lined with a bit of his Edict. His authority. Removing tiny little incisions, and this time, not sending a wave of death to rip through Sarah as he worked. No. Though cutting was division, it could be so much more. A way to heal, to remove things that didn’t belong.

His understanding of what it meant, that it could be this kind of controlled and directed movement, kept circling, swirling in his head.

One cut. Another. About ten, then the strain began to get to him.

Everything had to be so controlled. So precise. With his Edict lining his blade, it was a delicate balance between the surgical cuts to her flesh and stopping it from extending forward and slicing her in half. Each little slice needed focus, reigning it in for the precise movement.

Twenty.

Thirty. For each stroke, a careful twist of his wrist cut around the black lines near the wound. Beneath, he saw the lines squirming, trying to flee.

It knew what was happening. Whatever dark magic was in there didn’t intend to be removed; it would take Sarah to the grave.

Every cut was limiting its options, the Edict preventing it from moving forward, cornering it as he tore apart small bits of skin. Until… There. It had nowhere to go.

The final cut had more force to it, angled and controlled.

Revealing a twisted, gnarled root beneath her skin.

Colt grabbed it and yanked it out in one swift movement, removing a weed from a garden. After three minutes of work, the black gnarled roots finally came free, torn from Sarah’s wound. It squirmed in his hand, alive, twisting and searching like it was trying to find a new host to borrow into. And it very well might have been. A weird black parasite. Colt threw the roots on the ground and crushed them under his foot. It turned to smoke as he ground it on the kitchen floor, the corruption freed from his friend.

Colt took in a deep breath; his core expanded.

———

*Meditate* (Basic) has gained a level!

Your understanding of the Edict Cut has evolved. Cut (Minor) has become Cut (Lesser)

———

Jimmy got to work, darting in and pressing his healing light on Sarah, who was pale and gasping. Within seconds of the healing magic taking effect, she looked better. Blood flushed her skin, and she walked back from death’s door.

Colt ran a hand through his hair.

He felt the Edict there, deep in his chest. Thinking of these things as strings to be wound and plucked was wrong.

It was a commandment. It was a fundamental force in this world, and his understanding of it changed the world around him. Much more than a simple string that tied the universe together. He’d gotten a glimpse of it and what it meant. He felt like he’d just seen a fragment of what this Edict truly represented, the tip of an iceberg.

Colt looked down at his hand and saw it shaking.

“It’s all good now,” Jimmy said, his voice cutting in. “She’s on the mend.”

“Right,” Colt confirmed and shook out his hand. Everything was fine. For some reason, though, he felt like he’d been wrung out inside, stretched in a way he wasn’t prepared for. Oh well.

It had worked.

That left a couple of things; he had to track down Bill. He wanted to explore where the Kobolds came from, and then there was the matter of Logan and Nate wandering in the dungeon. Logan would eventually bring Nate to the ‘medieval alley. ' Two birds with one stone, then. “I’m going to go back out there. When I do, I want you to lock the door and shove enough kitchen equipment against it that a rhino couldn’t knock it open.”

Colt started walking to the door, ignoring Jimmy’s protests.

“When you hear a knock like this—“ Colt gave the door three taps, the third waiting a full second before hitting it again, “—it’s me and Nate. So let us in.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

This wasn’t time for a debate, and he wasn’t interested in it either. Nate was also in danger out there. It might be a while before Bill could present a threat again, but if he got in contact with Logan…

It wouldn’t happen.

Colt was out the door and back into the dungeon.

###

Jimmy shoved a table against the door. Then he thought about it and shoved another table. Then he remembered Bill and how many levels he had on them... and shoved another table.

Then he shoved a prep station.

It still didn’t feel like enough.

“Fuck.” Jimmy said loudly to no one since Sarah was still passed out behind him after getting stabbed.

After stacking up enough stuff to block the door so that he felt reasonably sure nobody would get through, he went over to his stuff and found his vape.

It still had enough juice in it. Since he’d be stuck here, who knew how long… It’d been a good idea to hit it only when he needed it. And right now, looking at Sarah face down in a puddle of blood was enough to do it. Yeah. Jimmy was gonna get high.

He hit the pen; the smoke tasted good.

It took the edge off.

“Crazy, man, they’re all crazy.” From everything he remembered, Colt was a quiet one. Chef’s newest target. It’d happened dozens of times. Chef hired a guy. Chef yelled at the guy and then made them quit. Jimmy’d been working here since he was fifteen—and Chef tried the same shtick with him.

Only Jimmy pretended not to hear, and when it got too much, he just walked away and smoked.

Donny didn’t fire people. It was too easy.

But apparently, Colt was more than the chef reckoned for since he hung on month after month and couldn’t get the guy to quit.

Somewhere hidden underneath was steel.

After the world fell apart, more and more of that steel shone through; he’d heard Bill whisper about it. How annoyed he was when Colt looked over. How he thought he was better than them. Jimmy didn’t see that.

Jimmy took another hit.

When he looked at Colt, he saw someone willing to do what it took to keep everyone safe. Concerned with himself, sure, but also everyone else.

A lot better than Bill. That guy was scary.

“Jimmy? What happened? I think…” Sarah mumbled.

Jimmy took another puff, then walked over. “Don’t move. You got stabbed in the back. Here, want a hit?”

Sarah gave him a disgusted look that said, “Really? God, when I threw those points into endurance, I didn’t think…”

Jimmy shrugged, then pocketed his pen. More for him. If she was going to turn him down… Although… “What else are we going to do? We’re locked in here until Colt comes back.”

“Until Colt comes back? Where did he go? Why?”

“…Yeah, he left after taking that nasty parasite out of you. Y’know, after saving you from getting stabbed.”

“Nasty parasite?!”

“…Yeah, a lot happened. Sure you don’t want a hit?”

###

Colt reached the alleyway just in time. Nate and Logan were picking through the corpses, confused. Logan especially had an expression on his face. Those brows scrunched up as they walked by the kobold bodies. It was funny, almost. It looked like the guy was constipated.

“Looking for something?” Colt asked as he walked up.

Nate cocked his head. But when Logan’s eyes met his, Logan knew he knew.

“She’s still alive.”

“Sarah?” Nate tried to connect the dots but got a feel for this. The grip on his bat tightened. He was with it.

“What’d you do with Bill?”

“Took his arm off after he stabbed Sarah. Sorry, your guy’s plan didn’t work out.” Colt cracked his neck as he saw Logan’s face settle. Things were simple with this guy. Refreshingly so. Make him angry, and he’d smash.

No tip-toeing on polite society. No playing with social dynamics and manipulating others in the kitchen.

Sure enough, Logan’s face turned red, and he resorted to smashing. It was inevitable he would explode. One of those big meaty fists caught Nate on the side of the head—too close to the detonation point—but Nate wasn’t oblivious. He rolled with the punch spinning even as he spat out blood from the hit.

Colt summoned his knife, then flung it, hitting Logan in the back of the knee. The big guy buckled but then stood, his muscles like steel.

With a frown, Colt vanished away his knife and started to close the distance, watching as Nate took a swing with his bat; it smacked right into Logan’s head, but the big guy didn’t budge. His veins grew deeper and blacker, and he swung another clumsy fist at Nate.

This time, when he hit, it sent Nate flying. He crashed into the wall, and all the air went from his lungs, and he slumped to the ground.

Colt winced but moved in—slicing into one of Logan’s legs, right at the tendon.

It slid through, and he pulled and cut, but pushing through the dense foot was more than he’d guessed it would be. Logan resisted, and it only got about halfway through the foot before he yanked it away, not even past the bone.

Still, it was just about useless as Logan stamped down, trying to regain his balance.

Logan flailed and caught Colt in the shoulder, jerking him back. A second meaty fist rocked into Colt’s jaw, snapping it and making him see stars.

Colt stumbled back and winced—seeing Nate roll in from behind and smash the baseball bat against Logan’s back. He staggered, but only just. What is he made out of, steel? Despite the level difference and cutting a damn tendon in his foot, Logan was going strong. They would win; it was two-versus one, and Colt had an Edict tucked away as his trump card, but he was worried about taking too many injuries.

Logan managed to catch Nate’s bat as he took another swing, yanking it out of the man’s hand and tossing it down the hall. His skin was redder, and the black veins squirmed underneath.

Some kind of buff from Bill?

Taking him down through a million cuts wouldn’t work. Logan was too big. Too strong.

No, one precise move. That’s what Colt needed.

He rolled his shoulders and ducked into the fight—narrowly avoiding a cross-hook from above. Logan sent a follow-up fist toward his gut; Colt saw it coming and activated Phantom Step—moving through the fist and to the side, watching the meat hammer pass right through his guts and do no damage at all. His enemy let out a roar like a beast, but Colt was close.

With one flick of his wrist, he sliced through the air. This time, though, he aimed. Right at Logan’s neck. Even though they only had a few inches, he knew it might not move quickly enough. Instinctively, he grasped the Edict as the invisible line of death left the edge of his knife—and condensed it. Stopped it from spreading outward in a wave.

It stayed the same size, the exact width of his blade.

And in the blink of an eye, it hit its target, tearing through half of Logan’s throat.

The big guy gasped—blood spurted—black veins raced from his muscle towards his neck, spreading out of the wound as they tried to stitch together his body.

But as Logan collapsed on the ground, they all knew the fight was over. All it took was the confirmation a second later as the light left Logan’s eyes.

———

You have leveled up!

You have 3 Stat points to spend. You have gained 1 point of Dexterity and 1 point of Soul!

*Phantom’s Step* (Basic) has gained a level!

———

Colt looked at the cooling body and then at Nate, who was working his jaw and spinning his head.

Killing another person should have landed harder. And it might have if he’d not known that Logan and Bill had already killed two of them in this dungeon. They’d earned this result. This was the justice that Cindy and Donny deserved. If Colt had to be the hand that delivered it, then so be it. He’d track Bill down, too, and pay him back for the damages he’d wrought on them.

“It was all a setup for you guys,” Colt explained, knowing he owed it to the other man. Yet… That doorway was still there—and he saw it rustle, a kobold’s eye peeking out. “I’ll explain, but first, we need to take a look at that.” He raised a finger to point as the door slammed shut.

He suspected this was the secret to this dungeon they’d all been looking for.