Having finished up his most recent mission on the northern continent, Jack headed quickly towards the local church of Diako.
He had been instructed to meet his handler there and he didn’t want to cause any delays. Jack had spent the last week mostly assassinating famous merchants across the continent and he’d jumped a serious number of levels because of it.
He’d also assassinated a king on some small island nation who was a level 56 which netted Jack a cool amount of experience, now he was well on his way to hitting phase three.
That had been quite a job. Luckily for Jack some local syndicate guys had been running their own operation to kidnap some outworlder who was attending the party there. That provided Jack with the perfect distraction so he could take out the big man.
It had been a bit of a rushed job; the place had just suffered a dragon attack and was in shambles. The idiotic king had chosen then of all times to throw a lavish party.
What a prick, Jack had thought. He had absolutely no remorse for killing a ruler like that. I mean seriously, who throws a party when his people are reeling from half the town being destroyed?
The assassin didn’t really understand the need to take out merchants, the king he understood, politics and all that, but the merchants didn’t make much sense to him. However, his was not to reason why so he did as he was instructed and headed home.
Home, that had a weird ring to it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a place that he genuinely considered his home. It was an alien feeling and not one he welcomed.
The Reaper had grown up in an orphanage where he’d learned to fight to survive. Food was scarce, love and attention were non-existent, and his only education was from the school of hard knocks.
Naturally, he’d joined the military as soon as he was old enough and the rest was history. He couldn’t exactly say that he’d had a good life, or even been a good person, but he had survived… somehow, and that was enough.
Meeting the god Diako had changed all of that though. He was still killing people for a living sure, but now he felt like he had a purpose, like he was serving a true higher power and not just doing the dirty work of rich bureaucrats.
Having spent much of his life fighting wars against religious fanatics, he never expected to become one himself. Well, fanatic was a strong word, it’s not like he’d throw on a suicide vest and run into a school just because Diako asked him to. In fact, if his new god did ask him to do that then he’d likely leave The Organisation behind.
Still, he felt like he had a purpose again and he was happy to make himself useful to such a powerful being. Not to mention the personal power boosts he’d received by working for him, that certainly sweetened the deal.
As Jack entered the church he was met with the familiar cool feeling that washed over all who entered. From what he had gathered, Diako was a god who wasn’t well known in most places, but in the city of Diopolis his flock were everywhere.
Diopolis was a safe haven for members of The Organisation and that was partly due to the heavily fortified walls which surrounded the city.
“Boss wants to see you,” Bert grunted as Jack walked into the main church hall.
“Why?” The Reaper replied.
“Hell if I know,” Bert shrugged, “he’s in the back talking to our Lord.”
With a nod, Jack marched past the brutish man and entered the back office. Clint, his newest handler, sat with his feet up on a desk and a bottle in his hand. His eyes were closed, but they were moving behind his eyelids which Jack had come to learn, meant that he was talking with Diako.
The god was able to talk to his vassals telepathically, which was something Jack still wasn’t completely comfortable with, despite how useful it could be.
Take a seat Jack, Diako whispered into the assassin’s mind.
It was a strange feeling to commune with a god like this. It felt invasive and unnatural yet somehow comforting. Jack wasn’t sure how he felt about the odd way of communicating just yet but he hoped one day he’d get used to it. The feeling of shivers going down his spine every damned time was not one he enjoyed.
Dutifully he took a seat opposite Clint and waited.
A few moments passed and then Clint opened his eyes and took a long swig from his bottle. His sighed satisfactorily and then cast his gaze on Jack.
“You have new orders Rook,” he said, “come with me.”
The broad man removed his feet from the table and stood up, leaving the room with Jack dutifully in tow. He wasn’t overly keen on Clint, he seemed too unprofessional, but for the time being he was in charge so Jack did as he was asked.
One day, I’ll be at the top, he thought greedily as he followed Clint downstairs into the basement.
Tied up inside the small, dingy basement was a man who had been stripped down to his underwear. He was fat and hairy and he looked terrified.
“Kill him,” Clint said, stepping to the side.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Without hesitation, Jack summoned the sniper rifle he had made back in Britania and, drawing on his mana reserves, fired a clean hole through the man’s skull.
He didn’t even give the prisoner time to plead for his life.
Achievement Unlocked:
Killing In The Name Of
You have taken the life of another player, you rascal. If Diako asked you to bend over and take one for the team I bet you’d do that too.
Reward: PKing loot box
Jack had gotten used to the systems strange way of communicating. At first he got annoyed at its constant attempts to berate him. Now though, he mostly just ignored it.
Loot box rewards could be quite useful and he’d happily take a bit of slander if it meant he could get more useful items.
“Good, now loot the body,” Clint instructed.
Jack moved closer to the corpse of the man he’d murdered and a looting him. He didn’t get anything special and began to wonder what this was all about.
“What now?” He asked.
“You didn’t get the adsorption notification?” Clint asked, a thin bead of sweat cresting the top of his forehead.
Jack shook his head.
His brain felt like it was on fire all of a sudden as he felt the sheer force of Diako’s anger. He had no idea what he done to upset the god so much but he dropped to the floor clutching his skull as waves of agony rushed through him.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, the pain went away.
We’re going to have to skin him, he heard in his head. It was Diako’s voice but it sounded more like a raspy, angry hiss than his usual baritone.
Clint must have heard it too because with a shaky sigh, he hoisted the corpse over his shoulder and left the room, beckoning Jack to follow.
Without a word, Clint laid out the dead man on a large X which seemed to be made of two wooden beams which crossed at the centre. There was a vat of bubbling acid in front of the X.
“We’re going to have to do this quickly, he should be alive for this part,” Clint said in a worried voice as he tied the man to the X. “Acid is the only was to remove the tattoo from the soul as you cut… the cutting is your job.”
He handed Jack a small knife which glinted in the eerie green glow that come from the acid pot.
Clint began pouring acid all over the body, well, everywhere apart from the odd tattoo which looked like some kind of unreadable code.
As Jack began to cut, all he could think was how lucky it was that the man was dead. If this procedure was supposed to be performed on the living… well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be very pleasant.
***
New Quest: The Celestial Map
Collect all the piece of The Celestial Map. Upon completion of this quest you will unlock another quest.
Objectives:
Map pieces collected 2/10,000
Reward: Vast Cosmic Power
Vast Cosmic Power? Jack thought as he reread the last line of the quest. He had no idea what that meant but 10,000 kills, which he’d presumably have to hunt down individually and skin, sounded like a lot of work for such a vague reward.
He wondered what all that talk of absorption was about. Was he supposed to be able to do that as an outworlder? Would Diako order him to be skinned once he outlived his usefulness? That wasn’t worth thinking about right now, so he pushed it from his mind.
Assuming some outworlders had this strange absorption power it was possible that someone already had half the map completed – unlikely, but possible. It was also possible that Diako would use that person to take Jack’s tattoo. Did he need to be dead for that to work? He’d give it up willingly if asked, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be killed in the process.
“I’m glad that’s over with,” Clint said, wiping his hands and carefully placing the collected skin into a sealed box. “The big man says to go to your bunk and open that box. Supposedly it’ll let you into some club run by the syndicate and he wants you to get in there. Your orders are to infiltrate and then hold for further instruction. Our Lord Diako will be running this op personally so don’t fuck it up.”
“Understood,” Jack replied and turned to leave the basement. The less time he had to spend in Clint’s presence the better.
He retired early and opened his loot box. It floated down from the ceiling in an eery red glow and then popped open with a squelch as red confetti shot out everywhere.
Great, something else for me to clean up, Jack sighed internally.
PKing Loot Box
Player killing, what a despicable pastime you have. Do you know what player killers and Rishi Sunak have in common? No one likes them.
Welcome to the party pal.
Reward: Entrance to The Morningstar Hotel and Spa.
The Reaper smirked at the comment, he wasn’t too fond of the UK prime minister either. Then again, he wasn’t fond of anyone who grew up with a silver spoon in their mouth, especially one who had it out for dogs. Animals were one of the few things on his old planet that Jack actually liked.
He had adopted an XL Bully a few years back. It was a dopey-ass motherfucker and it went ballistic whenever he’d get back from operation. Having that kind of greeting for your homecoming was a nice, albeit rare, feeling.
He missed that dog dearly.
I wonder if he’s still running the country, Jack thought absently. They weren’t too far away from the next election when he’d been teleported to Celestia. Hell, maybe the country had finally risen up in revolt and removed him themselves? …Nah, stiff upper lip culture doesn’t promote revolution. He thought with a fond smile, that way of thinking had kept him sane all these years. He couldn’t exactly admonish it now.
The red light emanating from the box grew stronger, breaking Jack out of his reverie and practically blinding him, then he felt his hand begin to burn.
When the box had finally disappeared and his vision returned, Jack looked at the painful area to see that a pentagram tattoo had appeared on the back of his hand.
He focused on the red lines marring his skin and a notification appeared on his interface.
The Morningstar Hotel and Spa
Hello player! Do you like murder, debauchery, and depravity of a sexual nature? Why of course you do! Just like a mid-noughties tween teabagging a fresh kill on Call of Duty, you’ve become a player killer!
Yippee, those are the best kind!
What’s the only thing better than a player killer, I hear you ask? A serial player killer!
So come on down to The Morning Star Hotel and Spa and try out our… facilities… completely free of charge!
He read over the words a few times before dismissing the notification.
The Morningstar Hotel and Spa, he thought, so that’s where I’m going for my next assignment. Sounds sketchy.
Jack had no idea how to get into the hotel, but he trusted that full details would be provided in the morning. For now it was time to get some rest. He had no doubt that this next assignment, like the many before it, would be a long one.