Lurona city [southern shores of Fuminao Legacy Kingdom], local time [1794.01.26]
As he said, so he did.
He wasn’t planning on leaving their territory without his armor anyway.
The meeting was short and sweet. His LED-based flashlight was selling unexpectedly well. As Kwan’s research team finished the testing, the first models hit the market even before he woke up from his induced coma. The batteries weren’t exactly battle-ready without a hefty encasing, but the mercenary teams liked to hire a porter or two to pack and carry their spoils. Also, the people experienced in the Discharge Spells finally found another niche to fill thanks to his invention, as most of them could produce an electric current stable enough to safely power the LEDs. And in case of mistakes, the drop in their lifetime would only propel their business further.
He was against artificially limiting the lifetime of products – like the late companies on Earth did – but if that was how the people wanted to risk it, who was he to stop them? And if the merchants didn’t explain that flaw beforehand, it was on them. The basic guarantee didn’t cover the methods of application.
Sadly, all that brought only more money – it seemed that it wasn’t enough to trigger the System reward. Even if that wasn’t a bad thing in his situation, Zeph felt unsatisfied. At the very least, with the current predictions, he would pay off the debt for Ghrughah in half a year. Assuming the trend kept up.
But that meant his other inventions had to sell at a similar volume, which he doubted would happen. He somehow managed to open a new venture for skilled people, but it was all a work of luck and nothing more.
He decided to think more carefully about his future ventures because of that realization.
Anyway, his armor and weapon were just that costly. As Aisha said in the past – it wasn’t a norm to make transactions for hundreds of thousands of gold, especially for a singular item.
As for the Shaman, the man lived on one of the islands placed a long way south, on an archipelago belonging to another country. The man was a recluse but lived for long enough to interact with the local communities. Rumors started spreading years ago, but even then one had to listen carefully to differentiate between the fairy tales and seeds of truth the people were spreading.
Thankfully, with Kwan’s new designation as a Landlord, the Information Department entered its golden age. They were no longer limited by the mediocre informants and could reach deeply into the city’s intel if needed. Not only that, but their agents were finally recognized as a part of the city’s forces. The reason the Shaman was found that fast was proof of all that.
Moving to his quarters after the meeting concluded, Zeph decided to meditate a little. The evening would be busy, but he still had a few hours on his hands. The overcoat he ordered still wasn’t ready, after all.
~~~
He relaxed after falling down on a soft armchair in his room.
He didn’t sleep last night, but he already knew that he could deal with much more if needed.
Also, the familiar environment and the feeling of safety put him in just the right mindset to start analyzing the Soulscape.
Breathing deeply, he tried to steer his consciousness.
Soon, his awareness drifted inwards.
His visualization came as easily as always. But without any pressing matters, he could actually focus fully on his task.
The scarred part of his Soul, he left alone. He already visited that place enough times to understand that without additional information he wouldn’t be able to come to any new conclusions. That didn’t change the fact that he still felt an indescribable need to analyze it further – his Will was acting strange every time he visited the Soulscape after that attack during the Tournament – but he had a much more pressing mystery to solve.
Gru was still absent, mentally speaking. And today, he decided to feel out his companion’s Soul, so to speak, to check what was happening. He wasn’t able to imitate Gru’s abilities fully, but he had learned enough from the ancient specimen to know how their Bond worked. Without that knowledge, he wouldn’t even think of trying what he was going to attempt.
As his focus morphed, he started to shift between different states of the Soul to get a general idea of where he should concentrate. Gru’s Soul was a separate manifestation, but because of their Bond and the physical proximity their Souls were almost superimposed. At least, that was his interpretation for the unconscious Gru – it was more complicated, as always when dealing with the Soulscape.
He quickly mapped the areas where he could feel Gru’s presence and started to form a poor imitation of Soul ‘tendrils’. Gru was always using those, so he saw an ample number of examples of how that worked. His visualization wasn’t enough to imitate the feat, though. Far from it. All he could do, was to misshape his Soul by using his Will-Powered Soul Manipulation, thus getting a better idea of what he was interacting with.
Using the found points of contact and after spreading his ‘perception’ enough, he started building the mental image of Gru’s Soul by ‘touching’ it all around in short bursts. He knew that the Will contamination that Gru inherited from him after the Soul Transplantation should prevent the so-called “Will clash” that comes with direct contact between Souls, but without knowing the mental state of Gru, he wanted to stay on the safe side.
With time, he slowly but surely started uncovering the state of his companion.
Gru’s Soul was in disarray, as he would expect if he was truly and fully incapacitated. But there was one area, buried deeply behind the smokescreen of his slowly shifting Soul, that was beyond hyperactive.
He traced it down only because of the drastic and constant shifts that were out-of-sync with the rest – that part was switching so fast that he could almost feel the tremors traveling through the inert parts of Gru’s Soul as he got close.
And when he finally managed to touch the miniature storm, almost blindly, he was rebuffed with enough force to be instantly catapulted into his body. Or maybe even slightly beyond.
Dry-heaving on his armchair and sweating profusely, he engaged his full-body enhancement to fight for the food inside of his stomach to stay in place. He was only partially successful, though.
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The fuck was that? It was almost worse than Nalani’s attack back in the ports… he thought, slowly coming to his senses.
“You are not sleeping at all. What are you doing, Gru?” he asked into the empty air, wiping the fat droplets of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. “If you sacrificed yourself to wake me up, I will not be grateful!”
But even as he said so, his Will acted again, making him grimace. And he experienced a very, very distant and faint feeling that what he said was absolutely wrong.
The most concerning point was how much different it was from his premonitions. Those, he could intellectually understand. But no. It was also different from any déjà vu or inspiration moment he remembered; a new impression. Any ‘tangible’ emotion he knew or felt in the past was different. This one… it was a new one.
Worse yet, he instinctually knew that he lost some Will just then, although the amount was so miniscule that he should have never be able to even notice it. Yet, the impression of that loss was as heavy as if he had just forgotten who his parents were, automatically forcing him to see the change.
This doesn’t make any sense. Will doesn’t carry memories. Only convictions, interests, trauma… intent, maybe? How is it influencing me so strongly? What happened when I was unconscious?”
There was no memory or Soul memory he could find of that time; he had checked multiple times. And this was no bad premonition nor any physical stimulation. Just a fleeting feeling that occurred when he felt his Will was doing something.
If my theory about its nature is correct… No, there are too many possibilities. He shook his head. One thing is for sure – I need to learn more. I have to know what have happened back then to me.
That was in his very nature. To learn how the reality worked. How the living organisms worked. Even more so when it was influencing him on a personal level.
To both of us, he corrected himself, finding a new purpose. I will crack this mystery, that’s my first priority!
He looked up at the wadokei, and grimaced instantly. The first night cycle was about to start – his meditation took way more time than he expected.
He weighed his options for a minute, but the Mapmakers Guild wouldn’t be available at this hour. Moving right now would be a waste of his time.
Instead, he sent a message through his Shrine Seed. He wanted to streamline his travels a little, so he asked the System to provide a minor mission around the Shaman’s location if possible. He would be more comfortable if he knew the distances the Cartographer would have to travel first, but he understood that triangulating could start at any location really. It was of lower priority than assuring his long-term visit in another country.
There was a much more pressing matter, though. Tomorrow, he would try to find the Gibbons once again.
~~~
Zeph slept like an overworked laborer. For some reason, it seemed like he required more time to recover than normally.
Let’s hope it has nothing to do with the X-ray experiments… he thought, stretching to wake up his body.
Checking his Interface provided some good news. There were three possible missions he could take when searching for the Shaman. The System was kind enough to provide additional information on the man, as well. Nothing groundbreaking or intrinsic, though. As with any personal data, those were inaccessible. But some additional rumors that circulated around were always welcomed.
Zeph knew already that without an explicit reason, the System would never share private information. As so, he was thankful for what he got.
He quickly chose a mission in the closest area and started preparing for the day.
He could, theoretically, finish his yearly quota for commissions if he took all three, but traveling by sea during winter wasn’t fast. Visiting one group of islands would already be time-consuming.
After refreshing and clothing himself, he walked to the reception area of the headquarters. Even before he could utter a word, he was ushered into one of the more extravagant rooms further behind the common area. His new overcoat was adorning a dummy as a woman responsible for adjusting it was standing beside it. The production and delivery were kept secret just as he instructed. Predictably, he didn’t leave with the item in hand either.
As for the adjustments, they weren’t necessary because the cloth wasn’t fitting. It was actually quite the opposite. He wanted to make it look like a random find instead of a purchased item. The colors were already horrible enough – the surface painted in yellow of a rotten lemon was scarred with seemingly random lines and splashes of brown and green dyes. The fur underneath was kept pristine white, though. The contrast was unsettling, to say the least.
The geometrical shapes of the lines should be recognizable for his ex-teammates, of course, as they were repeatedly drawn all over the thing. That didn’t’ change the fact that the final product looked like an abandoned fashion prototype that spend way too much time in a garbage container.
But that was the idea. No one in their right mind would wear such an abomination if they had a choice. For poor people, the functionality stood much higher than the visuals. The rich fur beneath the abominable colors was dense, speaking of warmth and cleanness thanks to the purity of the color.
A perfect disguise.
As for why he was doing all this, the answer stemmed from his last visit to the area the Gibbons marked on the small map.
The district was poor. Ravaged by time and the latest events.
The warm, baggy clothes put over more fabric-provided insulation was a norm, so he wouldn’t have to worry about his slightly bulky armor hidden underneath his attire if he wasn’t wearing the helmet. A pair of old shoes and thick, weathered trousers should finish up his looks nicely.
Instead of taking his backpack, he would use a few cheap bags to hold his possessions. Better yet, because of how weak the material was, he could simply tear through them to retrieve what he needed if the situation was dire.
As for weapons, he defaulted to his pistol and knives – the simplest things to hide. He had no illusions – the area he would be entering wasn’t recovering well. The Undead attack during the New Year influenced the city’s economy to an unprecedented degree – the people within that district couldn’t find work, while the infrastructure was still in need of repairs.
The rising criminal activity was merely a logical conclusion. And this time, he wouldn’t be showing his high-tech gear to scare off the newly-forming gangs. He just hoped that his ‘aged’ overcoat would be enough to keep him out of harm’s way for long enough to inform the Gibbons about his whereabouts.
But the worst part was, he had to do this alone, without any support from his Guild.
That was a risk, even if a necessary one. He wanted to meet his people; the ones seemingly yet to be sucked into the local political landscape. But that meant he had to be as inconspicuous as them.
~~~
It was easy enough to leave the Roaming Onsen Village. He received his new clothes from a few independent sources as he was visiting the shops around the area. The overcoat itself was brought by Pavail, who he instructed to keep quiet for as long as she could.
Yes, he was aware that his ‘strolls’ would be noticed. Not only by his guildmates, city governors, or any spying organization, but also by the mundane workers who knew his face. That complicated things a little, but he was putting much hope in Alex’s planning skills – he never believed that the small district that was his destination was their main base.
Alex was the most prudent of their bunch – the reason he became their leader in the first place.
The problem was with the transport itself. During the wither, he had only a few possibilities to move around.
He would have walked the distance to a distant carriage parking if possible – even if he had to travel above the snowy tunnels – but that would be suspicious as hell if anyone recognized him. Instead, he had a perfect excuse and If he disappeared shortly after reaching his destination, who could blame him?
It was easier to hide in the crowd, either way.
As so, he ordered a carriage that would take him to the very center of the Production District.
~~~
It took almost three hours. The aboveground traffic was horrible during the winter – the carriages were moving slowly to preserve the temperature in the leaky cabins. At least not many vehicles were moving around.
But finally, he stood before the very Mapmakers Guild’s room inside the multi-leveled main building.
If he was right, they would not only secure him a Cartographer but also open certain doors for him to ‘disappear’ temporally after the visit.
Remembering his first lucky encounter with them, he gulped down loudly. Now, Zeph knew about their Guild’s situation and why they extended their hand to him. He worried that exactly that knowledge would be his undoing when dealing with them.
On the other hand, he only had to support an existing misconception.