For what felt like the millionth time since leaving the Museum, Jaclyn reached under her jacket and felt for the vial of healing potion, making sure it was still there.
She hadn’t been able to identify it, of course, but Gula had also struck out by quite a lot. She could tell it was a regular healing potion, but one made for someone at such a high rank that for normal people, a few drops could regrow limbs, eradicate cancer, and basically do anything short of bringing back the dead.
As one rose through the rank, the body became tougher and more ... “secure” in itself, for lack of a better word, resistant to attacks and so on, even if one didn’t focus on physical improvement, also gaining additional abilities eventually. Far in the future. Well beyond where she currently lay in the power ranking.
For example, B-Rankers could fly through pure energy manipulation and S-Rankers could even step between worlds, albeit at great cost.
At the same time, that also meant that rebuilding a body containing that much power also cost a ton of energy. In other words, that little vial was meant to undo an amount of damage that would reduce her entire delving group to ash a hundred times over.
However, she’d gotten more than just that out of the Dungeon.
Name: Jaclyn Abrams
Race: Human
Class: Anima Monk
E-Rank, Level 3 -> 6/20
Class Abilities
Spirit Bond: Honey Badger (F-Rank)
Spirit Projection (E-Rank)
Statistics (0 points available)
Body: 70 -> 80
Magic: 5
Mind: 65 -> 75
Spirit: 64 -> 74
Skills
Pugilism 21 -> 23
Fist of Indomitable Badger 26 -> 28
Athletics 22 -> 24
Situational Awareness 22 -> 25
Bullshit Radar 17
Martial Arts 26 -> 27
Alternate Skill Set (currently inactive, switch unavailable)
Mana Control 5
Utility Magic 3 -> 4
Ballance 12 -> 13
Breathing 6 -> 7
Inspect 1 -> 3
Movement 14 -> 15
***
Back in F-Rank, that struggle would have probably been enough to give her a full twenty Levels, taking her straight to E-Rank, but the power difference between her and her enemies was likely the primary reason for only getting three this time around. Throw in the slower progression at E-Rank and she’d been left a little lower than she’d hoped.
However, if she’d tried any of that as she’d been barely two weeks ago, she’d have died literally one meter in, when that damn monkey had dropped the coconut on her head.
And thirty Stat points were nothing to sneeze at either, she’d spread them equally between the three Stats directly useful to her. Physical strength, speed, and durability, enhanced cognition and reflexes, the latter which was the more important component of the “Mind” enhancement to her, and generally stronger powers.
And her Skill had also jumped nicely since she’d last looked, though once again, it was very telling just how valuable Dungeons were. Her main “loadout” had only been improved during the delve, while the “utility loadout” had been strengthened over the last several days and actually gained fewer Levels despite all Skills in it being well below Level 20, when things really started to slow down.
Still, while her main Skills were slowly growing to the point where they were gradually having truly supernatural effects, the utility Skills were almost more noticeable.
Magic was cool, but the gains to her simple ability to be balanced, and a little boost to her ability to not just breathe but breathe properly, that impacted every part of her life. It was fascinating, but also a little scary how impactful the System could be.
Jaclyn finally closed the window after staring at it for almost a full minute and looked around the car.
Gula was currently scribbling something in a book of hers, Harper was staring out of the window in a way that made her unsure whether she should compare him to a child or a dog, and Granger was diligently concentrating on the bag of laundry in his lap.
Everyone had changed once they were out of the Museum, and all the clothing with various amounts of dirt on them was currently in a bag the young mage was in charge of cleansing.
She could have tried too, but she’d have gotten very little out of it since she’d only switched to her combat loadout this morning and the System wouldn’t have been helping with her learning.
Granger, on the other hand, had a general magic Skill that theoretically encompassed literally every single spell but grew very slowly in response. All he had to do was cast a spell a few times and it’d grow along with the others he knew, and would help advance the Skill.
Cleanse was one of those spells that was far more useful than it sounded. Sure, it could magically erase spills, but it could also cleanse wounds in unsanitary conditions, provide drinking water in most situations, and, most importantly, clean things that could, for one reason or another, not be cleansed using normal methods.
And she’d promised him that if anyone tried to use him to clean something that really didn’t need a magical touch, he could send them her way, and she’d set them straight.
Harper would also learn, as it could help him treat injuries by easily cleaning them, but he’d take longer to do so since he lacked Granger’s power and theoretical grounding.
Jaclyn sighed in relief as she sagged in her car seat, luxuriating in the sensation of having gotten out of her wet, salt-encrusted clothing. Seriously, why did the Dungeon have to use salt water? If it hadn’t been for her own cleaning magic barely able to scrub herself clean, she’d have been itching like crazy by the time she got anywhere with a shower.
Finally, she was out of that accursed place, and if anyone wanted to get another vial, they’d damn well pay her. And she wasn’t just talking about her regular salary, but something well beyond that, or standard hazard pay for that matter. Or they’d have to give her a damn good reason for why it was needed right at that moment.
***
London beyond the jungle that now occupied its center was like some kind of irradiated zone slowly being evacuated.
First, most of the people who lived right on the edge of the new area had made the very sensible decision to run.
Second, people who lived within easy walking distance began to move, taking advantage of the buildings between them and the threat to actually pack some stuff.
And thirdly, everyone else was retreating. Arranging to stay with relatives or in long-term rentals, trying to pack up all their belongings, and the like.
And on one particularly memorable occasion, trying to threaten their insurance agency into not writing the whole mess off by taking advantage of their contract’s force majeure clause. Jaclyn hadn’t been involved in that in even the remotest of ways, but cops could be a gossipy bunch when it came to interesting incidents.
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… Or when a fellow officer had made an embarrassing mistake.
She wouldn’t be leaving, even leaving aside her sense of duty and the fact that even if she’d been inclined to rabbit, there’d likely have been hell to pay.
It really was a very simple equation in her mind. If she was here, at the source of the supernatural catastrophe, she could do something about any further issues. And with her not-inconsiderable power, “something” covered quite a lot of ground.
Had she, on the other hand, retreated, she’d only be able to do something after things had already gone very wrong, potentially having escalated well past the point where anything she did could change the outcome.
But Eve’s place wasn’t here, not really. Jaclyn loved having her daughter with her, but it just wasn’t safe, not really. Especially with a bloody dragon around. Not to mention that wreaking holy havoc with the neighborhood kids and her fellow officers’ kids was not exactly a good way to spend time.
It was better Eve stayed with her father for now, at a safe distance from London and at a proper school
Now if only Robert had actually shown up in the beginning of this whole mess. He’d been too much of a coward to pick up his daughter.
No, that wasn’t entirely fair, Jaclyn had to admit. He was a cautious person, in the “measure twice, cut once” kind of way that more people should adopt as would lead to fewer stupid mistakes.
He was just categorically incapable of standing up to his mother, which was the reason they’d broken up in the first place. After all, that vile woman had shown up on their third date, tried to convince Jaclyn to become a stay-at-home-mother to their as of then entirely hypothetical children, and not taken no for an answer, becoming increasingly rude and belligerent every time she was rebuffed. While Robert did nothing.
And if that absolute bitch weren’t currently in jail, and the fact that Robert wasn’t allowed to take Eve to “see grandma” as per their custody agreement, not even a literal apocalypse would have been enough to convince Jaclyn to let her daughter see her father.
No, the reason for why Robert had taken so long was an entirely different one, Jaclyn was certain of that. He’d massively overprepared. He’d taken one look at a news article talking about the “apocalypse” and gone full prepper mode, stocking up on shelf-stable foods, grabbing every legal and technically not illegal weapon and tool he could get his hands on, possibly even added illegal stuff on top of that, added bars to every window … something like that. Jaclyn didn’t know what exactly he’d spent his time on, but she knew that he’d done something along those lines.
And she’d decided to let it go, and accept that even though she’d called him and asked him if he could pick up Eve after she’d fought that damn cultivator, he hadn’t shown up.
It was theoretically a good idea to be prepared, but in practice, if preparing took so long that you never got to do anything, it could become an issue.
Of course, she’d assumed that things would be mostly peaceful for the foreseeable future, Gula had predicted that the big monsters that had likely been carried along by the magical areas would only start taking big actions years from now.
The presence of a dragon rapidly regaining her power changed things. She wanted Eve out of here, yesterday.
She knew the reason he hadn’t so much as offered to take their daughter for a while was that he was preparing to receive her properly. However, she didn’t feel this could wait, not anymore.
So Jaclyn decided she’d wait until they were back at the precinct, retrieve her phone, and call him while she worked to deliver the panacea.
And if Robert wasn’t there by tomorrow evening at the very latest, she’d drive up to Manchester herself and make sure he learned that there were worse things in this world than being less than 100% ready for something.
She’d finished ruminating well before they reached the precinct, so she went back to looking out of the window, ruminating. They’d long since switched to Armored Personal Carriers for excursions into the jungle, with all electronics liable to be broken removed, of course. And now, they were riding this thing straight through the city’s empty streets, with a manned machine gun on the roof, people barely glancing their way as though they were already used to the sight.
This city had only been “hit” once, and yet, Jaclyn was already painfully reminded of various World War 2 documentaries. Sure, there wasn’t much rubble lying around, none, to be precise, but there was this feeling in the air …
Eventually, though, they reached the precinct, Gula hauled off a quarter of the panacea in a glass vial she’d produced from her spatial bag, and the other three took Jaclyn’s car back to Cambridge, where she’d finally hand it over to Director Frye, or whatever his title would eventually be. The only thing he knew was that Harper had called ahead to tell him they’d be by, not mentioning anything about what they actually carried.
Jaclyn sat in the back, this time, so she could work on things. Thinking about what to do, how to proceed, and how the exactly three humans with powers could fight a magic dragon.
And then, finally, she pulled out her phone and called her ex.
The phone rang a few times, and then the contact attempt was declined. Jaclyn sighed, and redialed, already mentally composing a scathing text if he hung up again.
But apparently, this time, he had the good sense to assume there was a reason she was calling.
“Hey, Jackie, what are you doing?” Robert asked, sounding exhausted, with the noise of construction of some variety in the background.
“What are you doing?” Jaclyn shot back. “Let me guess, you’re putting bars on the windows, installing a panic room, or are you building a gun safe full of firearms you can’t tell me about because I’d have to arrest you?”
Honestly, knowing Robert, he might have considered that the risk of being caught with illegal firearms was smaller than being caught flat-footed and helpless when monsters attacked. The widespread availability of guns in America was one of the reasons she was glad to live in England, but it was undeniable that when a catastrophe that could be fought directly struck, people having the means to fight was invaluable.
“Uh … that’s the greenhouse,” he replied after a long moment. Jaclyn believed him, though.
“Yeah, but you’re going to need to stop supervising that for a few hours while you come get Eve,” she told him.
“What’s wrong?” Robert asked, clearly assuming there was a reason for the sudden urgency. Clearly and correctly assuming, not that she could confirm that without the information rapidly spreading and causing a panic.
“I’m fed up with you taking so long, that’s what’s wrong,” she told him with a sickeningly sweet tone that made Harper visibly tense. He’d probably been on the receiving end of it a few times before.
“So, how about you make sure that our daughter doesn’t spend her life running around like a hyperactive cat all day for the foreseeable future?”
“Can’t she go to school?” Robert asked.
“Which school?” Jaclyn continued in her previous tone. “The one that just got turned into a monster-infested jungle, or the nearest public school which is already at capacity, with so many kids crammed in each room that half the calls at the precinct are about fights that the teachers don’t feel up to breaking up. Or one of the schools on the other end of the city, that I’d have to drive two hours each way to reach because I can’t take the direct route?”
That part about the fights was an exaggeration, but only a small one.
“Er … it’s a little late for me to come over, isn’t it?” Robert asked, making his first good point.
“Then come by tomorrow,” Jaclyn offered, dropping back to her normal tone.
“Can that wait a week or so?” Robert asked.
“Giving her a proper home is more important than your perfectionism fetish,” Jaclyn snidely told him. “We’re living out of a hotel room right now. So get your ass over here before I drag you to London by your ear.”
“I …” Robert interjected before clearly realizing he had nothing to say.
“Tomorrow,” Jaclyn insisted. She knew him. If he didn’t have a deadline, he’d endlessly “refine” whatever he was working on until it was way too late.
“Fine,” Robert sighed. “Where are you staying?”
Jaclyn gave him the hotel’s address and their room number, then hung up.
“Your ex?” Harper asked.
Jaclyn nodded.
“You know, if you ever need someone to go ‘talk’ to him …” Harper trailed off darkly
“Don’t even joke about that,” Jaclyn sighed. The idea of “power corrupts” was not a new idea, but one that was very true. And power abused was power that corrupted even more quickly. Joking about abusing power wasn’t quite as horrible in her book, but still plenty bad.
It was the same thing with violence.
People talked about how violence was never a solution, or at least that was how the saying went. They were wrong. Violence was always a solution. And that was the problem. You could just … use it. Usually, this solution was one that would drop a new problem into your lap the very instant you were finished punching your current one into oblivion.
But it was oh. So. Tempting. When “the right way” failed due to corruption, loopholes, a biased jackass with power over you … it was always there as a possible choice to make, a path to take.
And the more well-trodden a path it became, the easier it became to take it again.
Though she felt that joking about violence could be reasonably ok, as long as you took a moment to think before you opened your mouth. Jokes like that were so prevalent in modern society that basically no one took them seriously unless circumstances made them come across as being genuine.
Jokes about abuse of power, though, those were much rarer, and scarier when aimed at you.
Because they hadn’t lost their threatening nature by being overused, and because they were so much harder to disbelieve. The idea that someone would fly off the handle over a minor thing was relatively minor. But someone with power over you was threatening to use that power … it made you feel so very small, so very helpless, and it really wasn’t fun.
Jaclyn just sighed and rested her head against the car window. Admittedly, Harper probably hadn’t meant anything by it, and her mind had gone off spinning into the void all on its own.
As far as she could tell, he hadn’t been a regular police officer, or a member of any other kind of public-facing law enforcement agency. He didn’t deal with the people on the streets, he knew how regular citizens had to deal with cops only in the abstract. He felt comfortable making those jokes. She … she had unfortunately seen where those jokes led when they became reality.
The real world was complicated. And not the “fun” kind of complicated one found in a good puzzle. No, this was a frustrating Gordian Knot of various issues vying for priority, painted in a billion different shades of grey.
Despite herself, she felt herself longing for the Dungeon. It might have been dangerous and all, filled with fiendish traps and annoying tricks, but it was also simple.
The monsters inside literally existed to be fought by her, they would survive beyond their death, being resurrected just as soon as Daedalus deigned to spend the magical energy to do so. And when they did temporarily “die”, they went away entirely, not even leaving a single speck of dirt on her knuckles.
And the puzzles inside were there to be solved, not be an annoying anchor to weigh down her psyche. Solving murders was satisfying, yes, but that satisfaction came at the heels of tragedy and intrigue. Not something one could really do for “fun”.
Not that she considered fighting for her life to be enjoyable, exactly, and yet … she found herself wishing back for that simplicity, because it never got any simpler than the inside of a Dungeon.
Even the most justified of fights outside still left you hurting another person with their own thoughts, feelings, dreams, and others who cared about them. That wouldn’t stop Jaclyn, of course, if someone did something that warranted them to be arrested, she’d arrest them, and if they shot at her, she’d shoot back, assuming she had her gun on her.
But even that tiny fragment of complexity wasn’t present in a Dungeon. It was just … a fight, a justified fight where no matter what, you wouldn’t hurt the other guy, and eventually, she’d even gain something out of the exchange.
Jaclyn knew she couldn’t spend her life hiding away in the Natural History Museum, chasing power and an adrenaline high, but right now, it was far more tempting than it really should have been.
At least Frye was unlikely to dump another steaming pile of ambiguity into her lap.