Chapter 70
Drug Therapy
Stuck in solitary, trying not to think of how miserable he was, Leo pulled up his stat sheet.
Subject: Leo
Sex: Male
Age: 12
Strength: 6.6
Vitality: 7.3
Agility: 5.6
Intelligence: 6.0
Charisma: 6.2
Common Sense: 4.5
Class: Undetermined
Qualifies for Swordsman/Rare, Assassin/Uncommon, Garbage-Collector/Common, Housekeeper/Common, and Janitor/Uncommon.
Special bonus: Add one level of rarity to any character class.
Special skills: None.
Demon Tears: 22
Corruption: 0
So Strength was up 0.6. Vitality was unknown since he was exhausted and hurting, but it had certainly improved a lot, probably up to the maximum possible for a pre-Change human, which was 10. Agility up 0.3, Intelligence up 0.4, Charisma up 0.3, and again, no change to Common Sense.
How did he end up with Janitor/Uncommon? And what the hell would Janitor/Rare get him?
He remembered countless hours of seemingly pointless cleaning, post-apocalypse. It was much harder to keep things clean in a post-apocalyptic environment. Not that he had any interest in taking that character class, but there were times when it would have come in handy.
Assassin/Rare was the best character class available for him. Scorpio's class.
Leo wasn't sure how the city Bosses had detected Scorpio as he tried to sneak up on them with a bomb. Just that somehow they had. Leo could only watch as the bosses tore the man apart.
The only reliable way to kill a High-Level Boss was with an army of implant wearers. High-Level Bosses were just too powerful for anything else.
He fought against feelings of hopelessness.
“Imp. Is there any character class that would allow me to form an army, or gain an army's power?” he asked silently.
There was silence... then Imp finally spoke.
“I'm afraid not, Leo. If such a character class exists, I do not know about it. The Guardian character class would be the most effective in recruiting an army, but as yet, you do not qualify.”
“In the beginning, you told me to take quests and level up my skills to get a decent character class. What you haven't told me is how overpowered the monsters in this game are and how none of these character classes I've been offered has a chance against them.”
“I do not have that information, Leo.”
“You're so goddamn worthless,” Leo responded, knowing Imp wasn't responsible, and it wasn't right to take it out on his implant interface but unable to help himself.
Imp didn't respond.
Thanks to Imp's internal time function, Leo could tell they'd kept him in solitary, off and on, for two days.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
They'd taken Leo back to the interrogation room several times for questioning. During the last interrogation session, they'd offered him a large paper cup filled with water.
He'd thrown the water in their faces, and told them, as he had many times before, in a voice hoarse from thirst, that he didn't have an implant and to get fucked.
He'd gotten no sleep during this time, and his mind floated in and out of lucidity. When they came for him yet again, he felt a prick in his neck. Then nothing...
***
“Leo Edwards has shown possibly implant-related resistance to enhanced interrogation techniques, making him a prime candidate for drug therapy,” an unknown voice said.
“You sure you got the dose right?” he heard Special Agent Jones say.
“For a dehydrated twelve-year-old boy,” the unknown voice responded, “this dose is perfect. Believe me, the kid's juiced to the gills right now.”
Leo started laughing. For some reason, he thought the exchange was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He had the bag over his head, but he was lying down on what felt like a hospital bed with railings along each side that his wrists were fastened to. Something was sticking in his right arm. He tried twisting his arm back and forth to get it off. Someone grabbed his arm.
“Easy, Leo.” It was Special Agent Lopez. “You'll mess up your IV, which we're currently using to give you fluids. You've been lying to us, haven't you?”
Something in a distant part of his mind was telling him to keep quiet, but he couldn't focus on it. He nodded. “I'm scared.”
“You should be scared. But we can help you, Leo,” Special Agent Lopez said.
“You don't understand,” he responded. “I had a vision. On October 16th. Monsters...”
“Big tentacled monsters?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“As you know,” the unknown voice said. “Drug therapy gets the subject to talk, but it doesn't control what they say.”
“Oh, for fuck's sake,” Special Agent Jones grumbled.
“Settle down,” Special Agent Lopez said quietly. “Now, Leo. You're planning to use your implant to defend yourself against these monsters. Aren't you?”
Leo nodded. “But I can't find a decent character class that won't get killed.”
“What about Paladin class?” she asked. “I met a Paladin once. He was pretty tough. A normal soldier who got an implant. Next thing you know, the man was getting medals of valor and nominated for special forces. That's how we caught him. That and he kept refusing his Bio-Blessed injections.”
“Really not helping,” Special Agent Jones said.
“Just trying to be encouraging,” she responded. “If anyone could take out a giant tentacled alien, it would be that Paladin guy. Any idea what happened to him?”
“No idea,” Special Agent Jones said.
“Paladins get their asses kicked too,” Leo said, starting to cry. “The world's going to end and I can't do shit.”
“Let's talk about Mr. Osmond, Leo,” Special Agent Jones said. “How did he know Body Booster was going to crash?”
“I told him it was going to crash,” Leo said. “I didn't know you could short-sell stocks.”
“What about The Professor.?” Special Agent Jones asked. “You learned about the stock from The Professor, didn't you?”
“Don't know The Professor.”
“You don't really expect us to believe that? If you can see the future, how did you let us capture you?”
“I can't see the future. I had a vision. It was like I lived fifty years.” Leo proceeded to tell yet another group about the Change.
“The drugs are going to wear off soon,” said the unknown voice.
“Well, Leo, why don't you show us your implant?” Special Agent Jones said. “Make your wrist turn violet.”
“Okay.” Leo focused on his implant, making it glow violet through his wrist.
“Come on Leo. You can do it.”
“I just did it.” Leo focused on his implant again.
“Well, we got a verbal confession,” Special Agent Lopez said. “Just cut off his arm already.”
“A verbal confession from a twelve-year-old boy on drugs who sees tentacled aliens,” the unknown voice said. “No. No amputation without visual confirmation.”
“Is that a new catchphrase? No amputation without visual confirmation?” Special Agent Lopez asked. “I like it. It pops.”
“Shit. We've been wasting our time with this one. I'm going to recommend we send crazy boy here for a full psychiatric evaluation.” Special Agent Jones sounded tired.
The last thing Leo remembered was a sharp pain in his arm as someone yanked out his IV.
***
Leo woke up in a regular prison cell. His mouth was dry and tasted like he'd cleaned the prison floor with his tongue. If he'd eaten anything in the past day, he would have vomited it into the toilet. On the bright side, the cell had a toilet. It also had a sink, and he was on a hard prison bed instead of manacled to the wall. He staggered over to the sink and it was a long time before he stopped drinking the foul-tasting tap water.
His broken middle finger hurt and he had a nasty bruise on his right arm from the IV. But at least he had fingers, and an arm.
Shit. What had he told them?