Thomas had told me to wait until we get back to his house for answers. We had to deliver the corpse to the Heroes' Guild, and that was a hassle in of itself. We had to explain how I killed it, where, were there any casualties? Stuff like that.
I did get 1,000 dollars from it though.
Once we got back and dried off, Thomas started making some lunch while talking.
"There are many different energies in this world. In America and Europe, we prefer normal skills and magic. China prefers Qi, and I believe Japan loves Espers, or Psychics, as we call them. There are many others, but those are the main ones."
He throws two steaks onto the skillet as he continues, "People can have two of those, but they're usually hard to synchronize. You appear to have a natural Psychic Attunement, probably as a result of your species; it's just laying dormant."
He opens the spice cabinet and pulls out several jars. "What you did was empower your mind with magic. It's a replica of Psychic Attunement, and it allows for the creation of complex spells, but the power is sorely lacking in comparison to a Psychic Attuned skill."
He generously seasons the steaks. "However, since you don't have the Psychic Attunement skill, a magical version of Telepathy is stronger than your current version."
"How do I get Psychic Attunement?"
He shrugs. "Meditation. Books. Being trained by a professional. The usual. I would train you, but I only know the basics; you wouldn't get very far. I can teach you what to do once you are trained since I have some experience in the mind."
He puts the steaks on plates and sits one in front of me. "Of course, there is a species in this city that all have a natural inclination towards Psychic Attunement." He pauses for dramatic effect. "Demons, specifically of the Lust variety, like Alayna."
I stop chewing the steak. "I don't want to do that."
"Eh, she's better than other people; they would definitely exploit you. She'll probably just ask for a kiss or something." Thomas's pocket starts buzzing. Pulling out his phone, he sees a caller.
"Ah, it's Nora's school. Give me a minute." He steps away as he answers the call. While he does that, I down the rest of the steak. Dang, this is good.
Five minutes later, Thomas stumbles back in. If he didn't have metal under his skin, his face would likely be ashen. "Aria," he chokes, "get the Kneecap Shatterer."
Aria walks through a portal holding what looks like a piston with a spike on the end surrounded by four clamps in a diamond pattern. Thomas gingerly takes a hold of the trigger, keeping his index finger to the side. He points it down, and pulls.
The clamps swing forward, holding the air in place. The spike on the end shoots out with a pop and hiss, then the end splits into four equal parts before spinning around like a blender.
"Thomas," I slowly say, carefully choosing my words. "What happened?"
Thomas glares at the ground. "Nora was kidnapped. The police just called and so did the school. Aria and I are going to go get her. You're welcome to come. Don't tell Sophia; she'll come along even while she's hurt."
I silently nod in agreement. Someone, I don't know who, decided to harm Nora, and that's a crime against all sapient creatures. They need to be punished to the highest degree.
————————————————————————————————————
So Thomas does own a car.
An ugly station wagon that belts out smoke and guzzles gas. The worn leather seats makes me suspect that he's had this car for a while, and the bumper sticker that reads, 'Mothman ate my entire ass at a Denny's!' gives me the impression that Sophia doesn't care for this care anyway.
We belt out of the main boroughs of New York, across the bridge that leads into Staten Island. The name of that bridge still eludes me to this day. As Thomas violates every driving law unknown and known to man, Aria sits calmly in her seat, and I clench the seat tightly.
I sneak a peek at the speedometer. It, um, I don't think it's dropped below 130 mph since we left the penthouse. And…that's a red light. Oh, we're not stopping. Okay. Well, I guess this an emergency, so it's alright?
Yeah, that's some circumstantial reasoning if I've ever heard it.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
We pull off the bridge, getting slight airtime, and dash into the residential areas. We twist and turn through the roads, sometimes cutting through a backyard, until we arrive at an ornate archway. Thomas slowly pulls up to the gate and lowers his window.
"Henry," Thomas calmly says into the microphone outside, "I know that you're fucking in there. Open this gate right fucking now, or I'll tear it down myself!" Thomas punctuates his sentence by having his arm split in half.
A glow ball of energy that ionizes the air forms right in the split, arcs of electricity feeding into it and increasing the charge. The temperature steadily increases inside the car.
With a loud, grinding, creak, the gate slowly opens to let us in. Something gives me the distinct impression that we're not that welcome though.
Despite the lingering feeling Danger Sense is giving me, the estate is actually quite nice. The lush green fields have been grown with natural flora and let the treetops give natural shade to the driveway. However, this much wasted land is so, so, so expensive.
Just who would want to kidnap Nora? And better yet, how is Thomas so sure that this person took Nora? Only the police and school called him. It's not like he keeps a tracker on his daughter.
…
Who am I kidding? Of course he would keep a tracker on his daughter. That cunning smile he has on his face tells me that whoever took his daughter is going to suffer, in one way or another.
The car slows to a stop in front of a fine oaken door. A wizened butler steps out the door, each movement perfectly measured. He steps to the side and holds his head high. To be honest though, it feels like he's looking down his nose at us.
"This butler greets the Dr. Archimedes and company. My master, Senator Wilcox, is waiting in the secondary parlor room." Inside, a maid shoots a glare at Aria in her maid attire before guiding us down the gilded halls.
Honestly, this place is kinda gaudy. The gold, silver, and purple doesn't really mix all that well. Also…the maid's outfit seems a little…skimpy. Unlike Aria, whose dress goes to her ankles, this maid's dress ends a few inches above the knee.
Oh no. Hey, Dreamer, could you, like, eat this guy for me? Just get all of this over with?
No? Okay.
We're led to the SECONDARY parlor room. I think the not-so-subtle hints are just punching us now. We're absolutely not welcome. At. ALL.
A slightly slender man, about forty-years-old, sits lazily on a couch. Outstretched like a roman emperor, his maid feeds him grapes into his awaiting maw. This man might've been handsome in his prime, but time hasn't been kind to him in the slightest.
His hairline has receded and the wrinkles can already be seen stretching his frail skin. His smiling teeth are too straight to be natural. Several imperfections have been covered up by surgery and other various means, and at this point, I'm not sure he's even fully human anymore.
"Thomas," the man wheezes, "it's wonderful to see you. Have you finally accepted my offer?" He waves the maid away and slowly sits himself up.
Thomas doesn't deign an answer and instead turns to me. "Silvernight," he addresses me by my hero name, "meet Senator Henry Wilcox." The man in question gives a smile that sends shivers up my spine.
"Wow," I utter. "You…do not look anything like your election posters." I mean, yeah? He looks a lot more handsome in his posters. Now he's barely on the cusp of life.
"Heh. Technology is wonderful these days."
"Where's my daughter?" Thomas gets right to the point, not playing the Senator's game.
"My my, Thomas, I do not recall you having a biological daughter," the Senator snickers. Thomas rolls his eyes in response.
Not cutting any hairs, he whips out a knife and holds it up to the Senator's throat. "I'm not messing around. Where. Is. She?"
"You think that I'd stoop so low to keep children in my basement?" The Senator spits into Thomas's face. The spittle begins sizzling as the induction heaters under Thomas's skin kick into high gear.
"Who said anything about the basement?" The Senator blanches, making one of the biggest mistakes a villain could make. The Freudian slip causing them to reveal information in their monologue.
Such idiocy is sad.
The door slamming shakes Senator Wilcox out of his shock. I turn to find that Aria had already left to go get Nora. I jump up from the chair, prepping myself for what's to come.
Thomas stands, Kneecap Shatterer in hand, and clamps it around the Senator's knee. The piston punctures the bone, splits the wedge open, and grinds the bone into dust.
"Ahh! AGH! AHHHHHHH!" The Senator's screams, of course, attract guards. Dressed in all black, even covering their face, with padded armor.
"Agh, incapacitate them. DOn't kill!" Even with Thomas torturing the man, he still manages to shout out a command. In that moment, sparks begin flying. The macabre guards all pull out electrified weapons from…I don't know? Their ass? Doesn't look like they have pockets.
The assortment of sparking knuckles, and ionized batons all signal the guards to start moving. Thomas releases the Senator from his torment, and walks to my side.
"Ready?" He asks.
"Not really."
"Good enough. Though I do have a question…" He turns to me with a look of concentration adorning his face. "This'll be strange for you, but—"
[ Thomas used the buffing skill: Higher Order of Thinking(Maximum, Active) ]
[ Higher Order of Thinking — Pushes the organ used for thought processing into the absolute biological limit without harm. Actively heals the same organ to get a little more out. Increases Intelligence and Wisdom by 500%. Perception increased considerably. Will cause an eventual headache if used for more than four hours. ]
"Do you think you can move, nooooowwwww?" I can tell when the skill begins working. Everything's moving so slowly. I'd bet I could see a bullet travel through the air right now. However, there's also another component I can see. Or perhaps, feel?
My mind is sped up, but my body still moves at the same speeds. A lack of congruency between my actions and what I see is causing a serious lapse in judgement. Luckily, I have all the time in the world to fix my mistakes.
"Just because you can move fast doesn't excuse mistakes." A voice I'm quite familiar with comments in from the side. I, painfully and slowly, turn to face Thomas, whom is moving at a normal speed, relative to my perception.
He seems to notice my surprise even at this rate. "What? I created this spell myself! You think I can't use it on myself…accompanied with other effects to counterbalance the other parts." He mumbled the end there, most likely due to the fact that I'm still slow.
"Ahh, well. Your body would crumble like paper putting this much strain on your bones. At your current stage, even magic can only do so much to expand your limits."
He takes a step back to dodge a brass knuckled punch. He glances in disdain at the guard. "Pitiful," he spits. He takes a hold of the guard's arm and shoulder.
And pulls the arm out of the torso.
Delivering a kick for insurance, he stands up straight. He adjusts his tie right before moving onto the next guard. I guess I should help too.
I mosey down to the nearest guard, dodge his punch, and send one back right into his solar plexus. I think that's the center of the ribs? Anyway, he recovered now and is trying a left hook this time, sparks literally flying.
I counter by using Lightning Bolt.
A flash of ionized current arcs from my fist into the poor guard; the scent of ozone filling the air. He spasms on the floor as his armor, while I presume to be slightly insulating, could not handle the pure voltage. I'll be honest… That is a lot of power for only 20 mana.
"Like it?" Thomas asks while snapping a man's arm. "It took a lot of work to make the spell that efficient. If I cared enough, then I could probably get some more mana out of the spell, but that's way too much work at that point."
I would use Magical Mental Blast, but I only have 40 mana and I need 50. However, I have another idea. Since my brain is running at a mile a minute, then using Telepathy should sound like extreme static.
Now what to think at them?
'3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971…'
"Ahhhhhhhhh!!!" The guard begins screaming in pain. His screams slowly increase in pitch as the buffing skill wears off. "Ahh!!!" I-Is he crying?
Is he crying blood!?
Thomas and I stand there surrounded by bodies. None of them moving. All in pain.
The door creaks open to reveal Aria carrying a sleeping Nora. She whispers, "Let's go."