What is the first thing a person should do when offered a ‘special job’ by a complete stranger? Especially if said stranger runs a new government on the backs of a broken and discontinued system that had previously exploited you for labor.
You inspect them. Inspect them immediately.
Colt did just that.
———
Name: Denny Rodgers | Race: Basic Human
Icon: Minos | Class: Throneweaver (I) [Epic]
Level: 41
This is a basic human on the path of Minos; they are at the start of the route of Throneweaver and Epic Class, whose information is not readily available in this inspection. Additionally, they have reached a lesser grasp of the Edict Lead an Edict, which has the potential to inspire and draw out strengths in others.
Noteworthy Skills:
[Hidden]
Edicts:
Lead (lesser)
*Inspect* (Intermediate) has gained a level!
———
The information sat there like a lead stone in the room. Denny was stacked; he clearly had a high hide status skill. But given Colt’s contrasting Inspect, he could still see a lot of the information there. An epic class. A level of 41. An Icon—a component to this whole System that Colt still didn’t fully grasp.
It was a lot, and he realized that this simple ‘administration’ from the former government was quite formidable, even from the information presented.
Denny simply smiled pleasantly, even though he could’ve felt Colt looking over his status.
“Well, you want to hear more about my offer?”
“What are your goals here?” Colt asked, folding his hands.
“With this conversation?”
“With New Nashville.”
Denny paused and gave the same smile. It didn’t change an inch. The wheels of his brain churned behind it, and the overall facade on the outside was that of a pleasant civil servant, a patient man playing nice to a newcomer. But beneath it, Colt felt an instinct. There was something more swirling, an objective he couldn’t place, and a reminder of the former world that should’ve been left behind; Colt wasn’t sure what to feel yet, but it had him on alert.
Some things were too good to be true.
“Our world is different. People will appear, some stronger than others; let’s talk this over. I can see this will be quite a conversation. Care for some coffee?” Colt nodded, and the guy got up—and headed to a small coffee pot, filter, and grounds behind him; there was already water in a pot. As he watched, a small spout of flame appeared in Denny’s hand—he held the pot above it, the fire curling and licking the bottom of the glass. “Have you ever thought about what you’d do in a zombie apocalypse, Colt?”
“Everyone has. They make stupid plans thinking that they’d survive; they’d be the ones to make it out and live somehow, but we’d all probably get bit and die.”
“Most of us would,” he corrected gently as the bubbles appeared in the glass pot, dotting the surface like a dozen little pebbles of air. “Those that survived would fight among one another. Like little warlords in what was left of society, controlling and pushing around others. Many groups would form, with different sizes, different leadership, and different laws.”
Colt kept quiet, watching as the water came to a boil in seconds. That fire had to be quite hot, yet Denny handled it in such a casual way. It was the type of thing that could melt skin and boil blood in an instant.
“And eventually, the zombies would die. And what would be left? Thousands of groups, already proven survivors, and now without the limiting factor of zombies. What do they do Colt?”
“War.” Colt threw out. War never changed, right?
“Until someone is better at War than the rest of them. Then, they lead, and their group, their laws, their people, those are the ones in control of society. What they dictate goes.”
“Sounds like a scary premonition.” Colt knew he had a point, though. Society would form again, but it would be vastly changed and different from what they once knew.
“Scary in some eyes. A promise for a future in others. I loved our country; I loved this city even more. We lived in a way others didn’t; I traveled a lot and saw a lot of our great country—but I kept coming back here again and again. I’m not about to let someone else take away our greatness. Take away what our people deserve; in the chaos left behind, the people need a leader and stability. Not all of us can run around fighting monsters or know where we belong. I’ll fit those pieces for us and strengthen us. That’s the vision I have in mind, and that Colt is what New Nashville is.”
The pot was past a boil now—half of it turning into a thick white steam as it left the pot. Denny looked Colt in the eyes, distracted by his own words. There was a golden hue to those eyes, a sheen of self-belief that was mesmerizing yet dangerous.
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The water roiled in something more violent than a boil; drops of it flew out and hit Denny’s skin, yet it didn’t burn him; the water simply turned into white smoke.
Another second, and the water was gone.
Denny finally noticed and let out a small “oh,” then set the pot down.
“Guess I messed up the Coffee—sorry for that. I’ll be sure to send some to where you and your group will be staying to make up for my mistake. We have some buildings near the outskirts for our refugees until they can get settled and earn enough to build their own property. New Nashville has lots of room on the ladder to climb, as you might expect. Like our great country, what you make of yourself here is up to you… Speaking of which, that job offer.”
Denny settled back into his luxurious executive chair and smiled again, splaying out his hands.
“Believe me, it’s an opportunity I think that someone like you can’t refuse.”
“Alright, name it, I’m interested.”
“What do you know about Dungeons, Colt?”
###
New Nashville citizenship was an easy thing. They took down your level, class, name, and previous background and role in society in Nashville. Some basic information, then, through the system, you were extended a nice little invitation that, when Colt finally got a look at it after the job offer, looked like this:
———
Would you like to join the Faction: New Nashville?
Joining a faction confers benefits in designated territory zones and conquering a dungeon on behalf of a faction confers additional rewards to your associated faction.
(Y/N)
———
After accepting, he found his Status Sheet now contained a small line indicating his association with New Nashville.
A couple of things made the choice easy as he listened to Denny.
First, it was a stable place to settle his head for the night; monsters roamed New Nashville, and from what their little ‘mayor’ gave up readily, more by the day. Outside of the walls, it would become quite a hostile place. This small yet growing city wasn’t too far off from the feeling of the Kitchen in the Endless Alleys. A shelter to lay your head down and enjoy the people around you. Though, maybe, less tense.
Denny himself… Colt wasn’t sold on.
The man was ambitious, as he hedged around his grand plans, Colt knew there was a vision that extended far out of New Nashville. The fire to him and the willingness to push was scary. Denny was strong, too, that much was sure.
At the end of the day, though, he was of a far different character than Bill, and in this city, Colt was given what he wanted most: a path of freedom that would allow him to grow stronger.
Denny outlined his ‘job,’ which tied to his citizenship in New Nashville.
Dungeon Diver.
That was the job title.
See, Dungeons like the ones they’d come from now propagated the world like weeds; important locations especially seemed to attract this new reality into transforming them; they became a ‘dungeon,’ whose content and monsters within varied greatly in strength. One could find a portal and enter the dungeon, and conquering it had both rewards for the person and their faction. That’s how New Nashville started. After getting out of the tutorial, Denny took on a dungeon at this stadium and, as a result, was able to reform it into what they saw here.
He also began to suspect that the increased monster density was a result of more and more monsters leaking out of these open dungeons.
Defense and growth of New Nashville had three distinct requirements. Guards were the least dangerous unless the monsters were amassed and attacked. Scouts to flag the entrances of the dungeons and inform them of dangerous zones outside. And then, Dungeoneers. The latest of which Denny had been amassing over the last week and the most dangerous of all the positions.
He was right; it was a job he couldn’t refuse. Growth, a stable place, and a role in New Nashville that commanded respect; Colt hesitated before saying yes, but in the end, he was swayed.
It was exactly what he wanted.
Colt sipped his coffee as he sat at the small table of their temporary home, recounting his conversation and job offer with Sarah, Nate, and Jimmy. The four of them listened with rapt attention.
They hadn’t spoken to the mayor, but instead, a woman named Vicky, who normally ran the admission of new citizens, informed them of resources in the city, and gave suggestions for where they could fit in. Jimmy was essentially drafted to the medical team. A group of people who got classes and skills could heal, but he’d known going into it that was a condition for his stay in New Nashville, and he seemed to be happy that he could help people.
Sarah had gotten an offer as a guard, and so had Nate. Neither had committed to it.
“I want to go into dungeons too,” Sarah said simply.
“Mhmm.” Nate gave a small smile, “That seems like the best option. But she didn’t even mention it to me when they were going over the jobs needed. Why did they select you?”
“Level, and whatever you said, probably. I’ll put in a word if you both want to as well. I’d rather have people I can rely on by my side than strangers.” Colt took another sip of his coffee. The warmth and familiar taste. A welcome friend. ]He’d long forgotten what it was like to enjoy a nice hot cup o’ joe. The warm and bitter flavor made every problem disappear for a brief time.
“Then we’re all dungeon divers. That’s what we do here in this new world.” Nate simplified and summed up their thoughts.
The rest of the conversation drifted away like a wind on the breeze. Outside of the kitchen, outside of the endless alleys, they were truly free. If they wanted, all of them could split and go their separate ways, yet instead, they planned to stick together.
If it was trauma, trust, or trained instincts from their old awful job, Colt couldn’t say, yet he was here for it. Living in the moment and enjoying a bubble of peace.
They didn’t talk about what it meant to dive back into these mysterious dungeons and what things they might find and see.
At the end of the night, Colt spent his six stat points from the fight with the Orc. Three to dexterity, three to soul. Strengthening what was already his build’s strengths, he spent another couple of hours in meditation, trying to get a better handle on the Movement Edict.
Anytime focusing on that particular thread of reality felt as if he were in the room with a hungry animal. Everything, it screamed, was movement. All of life was change and movement, and the consequence of that sphere and dominance of reality was mind-boggling. Colt could only focus on it for two hours before taping out and calling it a night.
With time, he became confident that it would only increase.
The next day, he went to the White House and was able to sign both Nate and Sarah up as dungeon divers—with their consent. Denny seemed happy to have more people throwing themselves at the dungeons since the willingness to dive back into them after everyone’s tutorial was rare.
The day after that, they were called to the escorts of New Nashville to meet with a scout and two others to join their dungeon diving party.
It seemed that they had their first mission.