Green light spread over Vivian’s body. His generic black clothes changed to noble finery. A double-breasted dark coat with luminescent cording on the sleeves and chest, a pair of light, pale trousers, skintight socks to his knees and foppish heeled shoes. Rose vines wrapped around his leg and up his waist, coming to rest on his chest, where a large rose bloomed where his lapel would have been. His hair turned white and grew longer, and his skin became pale, while black thorn-like claws thrust from his fingertips.

[Incompatible Gear Equipped] [Clippers]

Weight increased 10x. Critical rate locked to .01%

What? Wait, what are my skills now?

He called up his list, and it blurred before his eyes, more skills than he could read at once. Vivian backed out, startled. Alright. Let’s ignore that. He tapped the clippers in his hand, feeling the weight in his palm. It’s hard, but with my current strength, I can still use them. I don’t have another weapon, after all. I’ll take this advantage to take Kors on in a sword…adjacent duel and teach him real fear.

Vivian stepped forward.

Warning! You aren’t acting according to your Patterns. You lack sufficient [Trust] to act independently. Any further deviation will result in stat deduction.

Vivian blinked. What? Patterns?

A menu appeared, floating on the air in front of him. Choose an Attack Pattern.

[Attack (Physical)] [Throw Spores] [Pollen Debuff] [Vine Whip] [Heel Stomp] [Bind] [Field of Thorns] [Poisonous Perfume] [Ghostly—

Waving his hand, Vivian scowled. “Fuck off! I’m not a System junkie.”

Refuse the Role [Lord of the Lost]?

“Refuse. No thanks.” Relying on the System to fight for me? What kind of victory is that? Then I haven’t won, the System has. I’ll take power from the System any day, but I won’t accept being dominated by the System. Those are two totally separate things! They’re the difference between being the toady of a dictator and using the power vested in me by a dictator to overturn them.

Me, be a toady? No thanks. I’ll respawn a dozen times first. I’m the only person who’s going to beat Kors up. Not the System, not anyone!

Except Noah, maybe. I’ll let the kid have a punch or two. Maybe even let him kill-steal. But that’s a special case. He needs the levels.

Okay, and I’ll let the Lady of the Lost help out. I mean, she’s probably going to aggro me, too, so we’ll both have to fight her. I’m not going to stop her from fighting Kors, too.

Role refusal disallowed.

Vivian raised his eyebrows. “Well, okay then.” He whirled around and launched himself at the Lady of the Lost.

Acting without Patterns! All stats -5!

“Only minus five? I’m still net positive!” Vivian laughed. The clippers suddenly weighed in his hand, but he swung them at the Lady of the Lost’s neck anyways.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I don't want to be the Tower's pawn. Being a Boss means following the Tower's rules. I might be able to fight at a minor -5 for now, but this Trust thing, these Patterns... the Tower doesn't want me to fight on my own. Everything points to the Tower wanting to dominate me, to force me to fight the way it wants me to. The longer I stay in this form, the more I risk falling under the Tower's thrall and becoming nothing more than a thoughtless System junkie.

Besides, if I don't have the party here to pressure the Lady of the Lost... she's the same level as me, and a Boss with equal access to high-level skills, plus more time in the Role to get used to using the skills and being a System junkie Boss. Can I force her to retract this Role if it's just me? I don't want to take that risk. I'm standing on a precipice, a razor's edge between me and becoming part of the Tower. This is my last chance to escape!

Startled, the Lady jumped back. She raised her hands, and luminescent petals rained down around them. The air grew sticky around Vivian, weighing to his limbs.

His foot struck the ground. Vivian wobbled, nearly falling over. He took another step, steadying himself, then forced himself onwards. He glared at the Lady. “Take it back. Take it back, or I’ll kill you right here!”

The Lady dodged easily, but a frown still marred her face. She flicked her hand. Rose vines poked through the ground beneath Vivian.

He threw himself back. The vines surged upward a moment later. Spinning the clippers, Vivian laughed. “Come on. Take it! I’ll kill you, I will. Think how much easier it’ll be to beat the [Gardener] me.”

Kors and his party watched, somewhat baffled.

“Did he forget about us…?” Renee asked.

“Honestly. I thought I was going to die for a second there, but…” Lewis frowned at the two bosses.

Kors shrugged. “Let’s take advantage of the fact that they’re distracted.” He darted in, slashing at the Lady’s ankles.

Pressured from two sides, the Lady scowled, baring her sharp, black-stained teeth. She flicked her hand.

[Lady of the Lost] is now Hostile toward you.

Role: [Lord of the Lost] rescinded! All stats return to +0

Vivian’s body shifted. His hair darkened, the claws vanished, and the vine wrapped around him vanished into the earth as his clothes returned to his usual nondescript black outfit.

He fell back, jumping out of the perfumed petaled air and away from the Lady, putting her between him and Kors. Whirling the clippers around in his hand, he narrowed his eyes, thinking. Spray bottle, rake, clippers. What can I do here?

His eyes went to the vine around the Lady’s torso. He grinned, flicking the clippers open. I can think of one thing!

From the other side, Kors fell back. He scowled. “Renee! Give me strength!”

Renee nodded. She lifted a flute to her lips. Soft, breathy music filled the hedge maze, as fierce as a flute could sound. Red light settled onto Kors and Lewis’ shoulders.

Vivian’s eyes flicked back to Kors and the others. But first, let’s take down the party. Renee is the buffer. If I don’t take her down, it’ll be that much more annoying to kill the rest of the party. Plus, if she has to rely on magic guns, she’ll go down easy as long as I can get in close. She’s priority one.

Lewis backed up, protecting Renee as she played, a wary eye on Vivian.

But for now, let’s get him to let his guard down. He charged at the Lady, whirling around her field of perfumed petals. She lifted her hand, summoning a whip of vines to her palm. Grasping it, she lashed it down at Vivian.

Vivian threw himself to the side. The whip smashed past, scraping by his shoulder. His shirt and skin tore. The vine struck the floor. Cobbles and dirt flew up with such force that they cut Vivian open, carving gashes through his flesh. He danced back, watching the vine warily.

The second she turned away, Kors darted in. He lashed out, his sword little more than a green flash. Blood sprayed from her thigh.

Screaming, the Lady yanked her whip out of the earth. She swung it sideways.

Kors’ eyes widened. His legs lit up with green light, and he blurred backward.

Not fast enough. The tip of the whip caught him on the side. Out of control, Kors stumbled sideways into the hedges. Torn open, his gut spewed blood.

“Kors!” Lewis shouted. He stepped forward.

“Re… recovery,” Kors spluttered.

Renee changed her tune to a soothing, gentle song. Paler green light than the System’s usual harsh green replaced the red glow.

The Lady grimaced. She clapped primly, as if calling for servants. Finger-width vines pushed through the floor, waving gently, reaching for something. Vivid red thorns thrust from the vines, shiny and bright.

Vivian’s eyes sparkled. Now!