Trembling from the monsters stampeding around Liberty Heights traveled through the ground, felt even within the bunker below. Whimpers and anxious gazes from the Wastelanders added to the tense atmosphere. The dark surroundings heightened their worries, with only flashlights from storage providing a modicum of comfort.

The force from a crack of thunder rumbled their stomachs.

One of them prayed, huddled in the darkness with a group around a flashlight as if it were a campfire, “Oh God, keep us safe…”

Hiccupping from a machine caught their attention, followed by a loud whirring from an engine. Above their heads, light bulbs burst into life, casting the entire bunker into brightness. With the light came a glimmer of hope, however fragile.

Wendy wiped sweat from her brow, rising from where she had knelt beside a generator now purring like a lion.

“I managed to get the generator working,” she announced, her tank top stained with grease, her hands clutching tools scavenged from the bunker.

“Thank you,” one of the older women praised, along with others echoing their gratitude toward the resourceful young woman.

“No need for that, you guys. I'm in this predicament the same as you,” Wendy replied. Her dark blue eyes fell upon Asher, who remained leaned against the wall, seemingly oblivious to the presence of Wendy and the other Wastelanders, unaffected even by the lights turning on.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, girl,” Mich warned, the old Wastelander leaning closer to her, shadows cast by the lights making his wrinkles more pronounced. “I’ve seen Anointed react badly to stares. Best to pay him no mind.”

Wendy instantly withdrew her gaze. Anointed were near demi-gods, and in the Wasteland, they made sure to flaunt that fact.

Mich nudged her with an elbow and gestured toward the back of the bunker. “Let’s take those skills of yours and see if we can apply them to the bathroom too, hmm? Maybe we can get this place smelling better if there’s a way to wash our dirty asses.”

They both moved to a dark tiled area that held the showers and toilets.

“How long do you think this monster wave will last?” Wendy asked, turning on the lights in what appeared to be a communal bathroom. She stilled at movement scurrying into a dark corner.

“That’s probably nothing,” Mich reassured her sudden tenseness, “probably just rats.” He turned a handle on one of the many shower heads. “And there’s no telling how long a monster wave will last. Let’s just get to settling in for now.” From the shower, there came the sound of choking pipes and sputtering before a spray of brown water shot out. In a few seconds, the water turned clear.

“Well, that’s some luck, ain’t it?” he exclaimed with an excited chuckle. “We can take showers like those fancy places in Havok.” The old Wastelander noticed Wendy’s brow furrow. “You know, Havok—the Oasis named after its Warlord.” He snorted. “Bastard puts his name on everything.”

Wendy shook her head, her expression seeming meek.

“I’m just a scrapper from the outlands,” she explained, glancing at the grease staining her hands from the generator, “away from the main settlements of the Wasteland. My father never let us get near an Oasis when I was growing up. I kind of inherited his fear of them, I guess.”

Despite her talk of fear, her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Are you from that Oasis—Havok, I mean?”

Mich shook his gray head, replying, “No, I’m from the MZO, the Monster Zoo Oasis.”

“The one that tames monsters?”

“The very same.”

[Immature Slime]

Mich tossed out a ball of slime and brought a wooden whistle to his lips, blowing into it. The slime suddenly expanded into a clear, round ball the size of a cat. Three holes, like those on a coconut, poised up curiously at the humans standing above it.

“This one’s Slimy,” he introduced then coughed awkwardly. “I’ve never been much for naming…”

“It’s so cute!” Wendy squealed, kneeling down to pet the slime ball. She looked up at the old Wastelander with curiosity. “But don’t you have to be Anointed to tame monsters?”

A yellow-toothed grin split Mich’s wrinkled face. “It’s all because of this right here.” He wiggled his whistle, its surface carved with glowing lines. “It’s enchanted by an Anointed Spell. The Warlord in charge of the MZO makes these whistles and sells them to the non-Anointed people there. He’s too lazy to look after everyone but still wants to collect taxes, so he just offers these little puppies up and hopes everyone can live long enough under the protection of tamed monsters to pay him.”

Wendy squeezed Slimy’s bulbous body happily, feeling its squishiness. “This is amazing. I’ve never been so close to a monster.”

“I don’t really need the whistle to tell them what to do after they get tamed,” Mich went on, “but it helps get them to do things right away. They don’t know what the fuck I’m saying sometimes.” He began to laugh.

Wendy prodded the slime, poking it, only for her finger to pierce through. “Oh, I’m sorry, Slimy!”

The slime merely vibrated as if it remained content, unhurt. However, the [Immature Slime] soon stilled as its three-holed face turned towards the shadows clinging to one side of the communal bathroom. One light there was flickering, blinking on and off. Wendy followed Slimy’s line of sight, narrowing her eyes to try and make out what had caught the tamed slime’s attention.

The light finally blinked on completely. In the absence of shadow, there appeared a black ball of fur with red eyes and finger-sized incisors.

“Is that a rat…?” Wendy gasped, alarmed at the rodent creature’s size—it was as large as her torso.

Mich turned to look and froze.

“Don’t move, Wendy,” he cautioned, slowly placing his whistle to his lips. “That thing is no normal rat. It’s a monster.”

Wendy grew pale, cautiously palming one of her tools to use as a weapon. Mich reached into his pocket. Sensing their hostile intentions, the rat monster leaped toward them with impossible speed, its shrill hisses chilling.

Mich quickly threw out what he had been reaching for, and the sharp sound of his whistle rang out. Wendy attempted to stab the rat with a screwdriver, but the tool couldn’t puncture its tough skin. She braced herself, thinking she might lose half her face as the giant rat opened its maw to bite her, but something suddenly tackled it aside.

[Moonbeetle]

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

A three-foot-tall standing cricket appeared, its wings buzzing harshly as it attacked the rodent creature. However, the cricket’s blows were ineffective, each counterattack from the rat sending it flying back, pieces of its chitin scattering each time.

“Not good…!” Mich grunted, nervous sweat wetting his brow as he watched his tamed insect monster struggle against the fierce rat.

“M-monster!” cried a voice from behind them.

One of the other Wastelanders stopped by to check on them and immediately grasped the situation. Soon, the rest of the Wastelanders in the bunker discovered what was happening and began to panic.

“Get back, everyone!” Wendy cried out, spreading her arms to herd them backward.

Asher had started walking toward them. Hope ignited within them that he would save the day, but the Corp Anointed simply placed himself between Lucian and the monster, leaning against the table where the sleeping young man lay.

His smooth, expressionless face made it clear he had no intention of intervening for their sake.

Behind him, one of Lucian’s eyes opened slightly to look at Asher, silently conveying a message to him.

Seeing the awareness in Lucian’s eye and the pleading look, Asher snorted, “Don’t think I’ll save these dust eaters, Crow. It is you I owe a debt to, not them.” His cold, dark eyes fixed on the panicked Wastelanders. “As far as I’m concerned, the fewer dust eaters in this world, the better.”

“What are we going to do…?!” a Wastelander whispered, frantic.

“Do we beg the Anointed?” another asked with uncertainty, glancing toward Asher. None dared approach the Anointed. As Wastelanders, they knew the wrath of these superpowered beings when irritated.

Mich’s [Moonbeetle] had three of its legs torn off and was nearing death. The rat crept closer, sensing the cricket's weakened state and preparing for the killing blow. The rat monster had proven too fast and strong. Not only was the [Moonbeetle] unable to land a significant blow, but it also struggled to keep up with the rat’s movements.

Wendy rallied the other Wastelanders, urging them to hastily scour the bunker for anything that could serve as a weapon. They knew they couldn’t kill the monster, being only ordinary people, but they had no choice but to try.

“Fuck it,” Mich rasped and blew his monster tamer whistle again, his face filled with regret.

[Immature Slime]

Rolling like a bowling ball, Slimy moved to intercept the giant rat. The rodent hissed upon seeing the transparent creature approaching. Without hesitation, it leapt onto the slime and began viciously tearing away at it.

However, Slimy remained unaffected and unharmed, morphing into a viscous puddle beneath the rat. Its clear slime started clinging to the rat's black fur and paws. Sensing danger, the rat monster attempted to leap away but struggled as if stuck in mud.

Trapped in the slime, the rat's movements slowed to a near stop, robbing it of speed and leaving it vulnerable. A shadow emerged from behind. It screeched seeing the [Moonbeetle] there, a sharp stinger exposed at the insect’s rear. When the stinger struck, the rat instantly died. There were no last twitches or gasps; it simply fell over and stopped moving.

“Well,” Mich sighed, taking out the whistle from his mouth, “that about does it.”

“It’s dead…?” asked one of the Wastelanders, cautiously peeking in from around the wall of the communion bathroom.

“What about those other monsters?” a Wastelander woman worried, pointing a trembling finger at the [Moonbeetle] and [Immature Slime].

"They’re controlled by Mich,” Wendy assured her and the others. “He’s from the MZO.” Understanding nods came from the Wastelanders, though some had to explain what the MZO was to the confused few.

Wendy approached the old monster tamer. “Thanks for saving us, Mich.”

The old man nodded, his face unreadable.

“Why couldn’t your cricket thing do that earlier?” Wendy asked, only to soon become startled as the [Moonbeetle] soon fell over dead. “It died?!”

Mich sighed deeply, “It’s the [Moonbeetle]’s special ability. It can kill a lot of things with its poison stinger, even an Anointed. But when it stings something, it dies right after.” He sighed again and walked up to the tamed monster’s corpse. “I was saving that particular ability for something more dangerous than a monster rat.” His old eyes flickered to Asher for a moment.

Wendy understood the old Wastelander's meaning well. An Anointed could become a more formidable threat than any monster. Having insurance against such a danger was priceless. It was hard to kill a demi-god as an ordinary person.

“Where’s Teren?” a Wastelander woman shrieked, eyes frantic, spinning around in search for her companion. The other Wastelanders glanced around, searching for the Wastelander named Teren.

“I…I think he left,” worried a thin Wastelander with greasy hair combed flat, pointing at the bunker entrance. They found it wide open.

“The rat must’ve scared him senseless and made him run,” another Wastelander concluded grimly.

“That isn’t good…” Mich muttered. “He’ll die out there.” He glanced at Asher nearby, wanting to say something—wanted to scream at him for being such a scumbag to let someone run outside to their death without warning.

A hand rested on his shoulder. Mich turned to see Wendy shaking her head. He nodded, recognizing he needed to calm down. He was defenseless against an Anointed.

At that moment the missing Wastelander appeared at the entrance.

“Teren…?” murmured the woman who had been searching for him. Her words turned to screams as Teren was torn apart before their eyes.

What had torn Teren asunder was a demon with scaled, pink-tinted skin, golden eyes set against black, horns spiraling upwards, teeth as sharp as needles, and a spaded tail that swished lazily behind it. Its face resembled that of a male model—smooth and unblemished, even by its own scales. With a pleasant expression, it lifted a clawed hand to lick Teren's blood from its claws.

“It's another demon!” cried a Wastelander in horror.

“[Incubus]!” Asher hissed, conjuring Mana around him. He had no choice but to fight. A demon’s abilities could incidentally kill Lucian in such enclosed space like the bunker.

[Acute Focus] x [Hasten]

Asher's image blurred as he used his Spells to gain incredible speed, rushing towards the demon with his Sky Metal rapier fully extended. He executed a flurry of precise cuts, showcasing the combat skills his affluent upbringing had afforded him.

Yet, the demon’s pink form twisted like a worm wriggling from the earth, effortlessly evading every strike, while a taunting smirk grew upon its smooth lips. Its aggravating expression fueled Asher's fury.

[Acute Focus] x [Strength of Arms]

Asher's blows gained added weight as his Spells enhanced his raw power. In response, the [Incubus] met each attack with its tough pink scales, effortlessly shrugging off every strike. Despite this, Asher remained on the offensive, using all his Mana without reserve, sweat causing his handsome face to glisten. Glowing blue with Mana in his black suit, he became a storm of black, blue, and shining metal, striking relentlessly with rapier attacks empowered by Spells.

However, the outcome became increasingly clear: Asher could not harm the [Incubus], no matter what he threw at it. Once the demon was free to act, it would kill them all. The Wastelanders began to panic; some were sobbing, while others gripped whatever they found in the bunker that could serve as a weapon, preparing for the inevitable last fight of their lives.

Minutes crawled by and the battle between Anointed and monster was nearing its climax.

Finally slowing, Asher could no longer conjure enough Mana to sustain his onslaught of attacks. The pink demon swiftly took advantage of his weakened state, batting him away. The Corp Anointed was sent hurtling on impact. Seeing his trajectory, Asher dug his Sky Metal rapier into the wooden floor, managing to slow his momentum enough to avoid crashing into Lucian's table.

On the precipice of defeat, Asher's dark eyes remained stalwart. He would not abandon who he was in debt to.

“My word is my bond,” Asher grunted, straightening his suit and leveling his rapier at the smirking [Incubus]. “I’m willing to die for that belief.”

A thunderous cackle erupted from the pink demon, clutching its stomach in mirth. It knew Asher was too weak to retaliate now.

Then, with sudden ferocity, it charged.

Despite his unsteady stance, Asher stood firm. He would repay his debt to Lucian, no matter the cost.

The [Incubus] arrived in front of Asher with claws splayed out to rip him apart. Yet, before the demon could make the kill, the Corp Anointed was suddenly pulled back to make way for a sludge of purple liquid that spurted forth.

[Naga Venom]

The liquid coated the pink demon’s entire upper body, hissing filled the air as the venom sank deep, eroding flesh without pause. Agonized shrieks from the Incubus doubled over the Wastelanders, who covered their ears to block the hideous sound. The melting continued until the demon lost its voice, finally collapsing dead on the ground, half of it reduced to a mass of melted goo.

The Wastelanders took a moment to register what had happened. Alongside Asher, they turned to see Lucian had launched a surprise attack from where he lay.

Asher stared in disbelief at Lucian, mouth agape.

Lucian grinned tiredly at Ash, holding up three fingers. Asher seemed confused until Lucian croaked, “Three times, Ash. That’s three lives you owe me…”

“What the fuck…?” Ash bristled, flushed with embarrassment. “You know I wouldn’t be in this predicament if it weren’t for you, right?” His words fell on deaf ears. Lucian, still heavily injured, had already passed out. “Damn Crow…!”

The Corp Anointed’s irritated gaze shifted into one of contemplation. He murmured to himself, “How can an idiot like this manage to kill monsters that usually only Mid-tier Anointed can handle…?”