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The Last Experience Point
Chapter 18: Five Minutes

Chapter 18: Five Minutes

Chapter 18: Five Minutes

As Zach steeled his resolve, ready to defend against whatever evil onslaught the cat had planned for him, he forced himself to remain focused and determined on the task ahead. He knew how easy it was to become overwhelmed with outside worries and fears. Well, more specifically one worry.

For the past three days, there had been a single question that Zach could not get out of his head. It was something that had caused him to experience a constant state of agitation. It was also a question that the cat could easily answer but deliberately chose not to. And that question was the following: what level is Kalana now?

No matter how many times he’d asked, Fluffles would simply refuse to tell him. He even seemed to regret telling him the first time around, claiming he’d had no idea Zach would get so emotionally bent out of shape over it. Or at least, that was the gist of what he’d said. His literal words were something more along the lines of: “I scratch if you keep annoying! Fluffles tired of hearing about Kalana level!”

Ever since telling him she’d hit level 15, Zach could not take his mind off the idea that he was falling further and further behind with each and every second that passed. Nevertheless, Fluffles had convinced him, admittedly for his own good, to spend several days learning how to use a sword. Given the results, he had no regrets in agreeing to do so. But now? Now it was time to move on. Now it was time to get back on the trail. And if surviving five minutes against Fluffles was what it would take for the two of them to hop on his bike and hit the road, then Gods damn it all, so be it.

“Just so we’re clear,” Zach said to him, backing away and gaining some distance. “You promise that if I make it five minutes without passing out, we can leave today?”

“And tuna,” he added.

“What about it?”

“Five minutes and 2 cans tuna.”

Zach gave the cat a blank look. “Seriously?”

“Yes! I want tuna and Zach pass test.”

“Fine, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay, Zach ready?”

“Yup. Let’s do it. Just make sure you don’t start until the beep goes off on my phone.”

“No start until beep,” Fluffles agreed.

Only a moment ago, Zach had programmed his phone to let off a beep in three minutes and a second beep exactly five minutes after the first, and then he’d put the phone on speaker and laid it down on top of his backpack, which was on the grass not far from the two of them. Thus, once the first beep played, all Zach had to do was “survive” for three-hundred seconds against his level-47 cat. What a world he’d gotten involved in, huh?

Fluffles spun around and ran a little bit farther away from Zach, then again faced in his direction. Zach, gripping his blade even more tightly, made sure to take deep, slow breaths in order to keep himself from becoming overly excited. He knew he could do this. He had to do this. He was tired of being level 3—which was funny since there was a time in his life when being anything other than level 1 would’ve let him die happy.

I can’t believe the direction my life has taken, he thought.

It really was amazing. No, really, it was. Like, when he actually stopped and thought about it: it was absolutely, unquestionably bonkers. Just last week, his biggest worry in life had been whether or not he was going to be able to pass pre-calculus. And today?

Today, his entire destiny now relied upon whether or not a literal talking cat who was also his swords instructor decided he was worthy of chasing after a glowing ball summoned by eating a snack that would lead him to a spawn point that was required to fight boss monsters alongside the girl he wanted to date, who’d been separated from him because a slave-trading guild official whose hand Zach had chopped off had murdered his father via throwing him out of a window after figuring out Kalana was Elvish royalty and deciding to sell her for gold. Now, try saying all that out loud without taking a breath. Go ahead, try it. See? It can’t be done.

Just normal, everyday life troubles, he thought sardonically.

All that really mattered, though, was Kalana. He was going to do whatever it took to see her again. He was going to be the man he had to be. He was done being the “trash” of this world. Varsh was wrong about him. They were all wrong about him. These next five minutes would prove that.

“Beep!” the alarm chirped. “Beep, beep, beep!”

Five minutes starts now. Here we go!

This was it. The timer had begun. Five minutes. Three-hundred seconds. He needed to pull through this at any cost. Gritting his teeth, he held his sword with his hands gripping the lower part of the plain brown hilt. His arms were half extended and his elbows bent, the blade pointed upwards. His left leg was forward and also bent, while he kept his right leg straight. He knew Fluffles was going to really bring it this time around. This was going to be way harder than everything he’d faced up until now.

I got this!

Fluffles attacked immediately after the alarm played. Almost as soon as the sound came through from the phone, a wooden sword popped into existence out of thin air in front and slightly above Zach, moving all on its own. Angled horizontally, it took a fast, rapid-fire swing at his face. As if acting out of pure, learned reflex, Zach prepared to raise his sword to guard—then stopped himself.

No! Not for this!

Of all the things Fluffles had drilled into him during the past few days, some of the most important lessons that Zach had learned turned out to be things he’d figured out completely on his own just by virtue of having experienced them. These “hidden” lessons, as he’d come to think of them, were obtained not by instruction but by suffering the consequences of not abiding them. And the first of these lessons was likely one of the most important: conserve your energy!

Right now, the entire south-east of North Bastia was experiencing a punishing heat wave with temperatures even higher than they’d typically be two months from now in the middle of summer. This, combined with Zach’s less-than-stellar stamina, had made him come close to fainting on so many occasions yesterday morning and all throughout the day prior. But it was only through his constant gasping, panting, and light-headedness that he finally came to fully appreciate that his energy was a resource that needed to be spent wisely, and not every attack required him to guard with his blade. Some could be far more easily avoided with simple body movements—such as this one.

Bending his knees while leaning backwards, Zach easily slipped under the strike, then quickly pulled himself upright with minimal effort. The blade continued on with the motion, however, coming back around for a second lunge at his throat, this one off on an angle.

Zach came into a half-squat while twisting his body to the side. The wooden sword swooshed by within just a few inches of distance; it was close enough that Zach could feel a tiny blast of air as it passed harmlessly before him. Once again, Zach was quick to straighten himself back into a fighting stance.

So far so good, he thought. Just keep cool, use my best judgment, and don’t be an idiot.

The wooden blade pulled away somewhat, reorienting itself midair so that it faced upright. Then it soared forward, lifted upwards, and slashed straight down as if aiming for the top of his scalp. For this, Zach merely spun on his heels, putting himself well out of the way of the sword’s path. But like before, the floating weapon came around for a second attempt, which resulted in Zach merely repeating his previous action in reverse with the same result.

One attempt after the next, the wooden sword lashed out of him, and each time, Zach sidestepped, ducked, weaved, or otherwise leaned out of harm’s way, all while using the bare minimum effort required. It was, in his own estimation, a very good start.

“Fluffles begin easy,” the cat said. “Now go harder.”

Don’t listen to him, Zach thought. Don’t let him rattle you.

The threat, unfortunately, was not an empty one, because a second wooden sword materialized just to the side of the first. This new, second sword turned itself midair so that it pointed towards Zach, then plunged down as if dropped by whatever invisible force was holding it. For an instant, it looked like it was going to keep falling all the way down to the grass, but then, as if “caught,” it came to a halt, hovering just above the ground. This, while the first sword remained pointed upright.

For a brief moment, both of the summoned weapons remained unmoving, and Zach held his breath while waiting for something to happen—and then, with two explosive, abrupt movements, both wooden swords came at him, with one attempting to strike his feet and the other attempting to slice vertically down on top of his head.

Right away, Zach noticed that they were both moving at different speeds, which actually made this easier than it would’ve been otherwise. Though it would be very, very brief, there would indeed be a delay in timing between when the first weapon would strike and when the second one would. This enabled Zach to duck down and deftly avoid the first. Immediately afterwards, he leapt into the air and tucked his knees into his chest, narrowly evading the second; this, he did all while he continued to grip his own sword tightly in both hands.

So far, so good, he told himself. I really think I got this.

Both wooden blades moved away from him, with the second blade flying upwards and regaining altitude until it returned to being at even height with the first sword. Then, they split apart, with one traveling through the air until it was on Zach’s left side and the other moving along to his right. With the two summoned weapons now to each of his sides, they both came at him yet again.

The one on the left reached him first. It struck downwards and diagonally for a slash that, had it been from a genuine steel blade, could likely cut him open from the shoulder to his neck. But given that Zach’s stance had his own sword out in front of him, blade pointed upwards, it made for an easy attack to guard against.

Rather than make a large, tiring movement needed to parry, Zach simply rotated his wrists to the left so that his own blade flipped over onto its side, deflecting the strike. Then he twisted his wrists in the opposite direction, a small clack resounding in the air as he just as easily deflected the second wooden sword.

Fluffles meowed impatiently, and as if deciding to take this more seriously, Zach watched as both wooden swords rose high into the air. Now, they came soaring down on him from two opposing angles that would make dodging impossible. Remaining calm, Zach swung his blade upwards at the first, splitting it in half with a clack, then back downwards, slicing the second and shattering that one as well.

No sooner had those two fallen than three more came flying at him, all three seeming to appear in the air at the same time, already attacking. With a grunt, Zach jumped backwards to gain some distance and give himself a few extra moments to react. The movement, however, had the unintentional—but fortunate—effect of causing the three to bunch up in a single-file line instead of remaining fanned out. And in this single-file line, they continued to come at him, one by one. This made it much simpler.

With three precise, lightning-quick strikes, the grassy field echoed loudly with a clack, clack, clack, as Zach managed to destroy all three wooden weapons in the span of half a second. This, without even raising his heart rate yet, let alone bringing himself to the point of panting. He was sweating, however, but that was purely due to the heat and not his level of exertion.

I’m doing so damn good so far, he thought. I can’t believe it. How much more time is left?

Having learned the lesson about conserving his energy, he stood a much better chance of making it through these next five minutes than he would’ve if he’d needed to swing around his sword full strength at every threat. Still, that was only one of his newly understood lessons. The second, and likely even more important lesson, was something that would’ve prevented him from getting clobbered over the head earlier: be aware of your surroundings.

As three more freshly summoned wooden swords came at him from his front, left, and right side, Zach knew that it was important for him to keep his attention on them: obviously it was. But that didn’t mean he didn’t also have to keep on the lookout for other threats, too. And thus, the second lesson he’d learned was that, any time he found himself faced with an incoming threat, he still needed to make sure he darted his eyes around every few seconds just to be sure something else wasn’t about to blindside him.

Had he not exercised this rule, he would never have seen the shadow moving along the grass, which told him that something was moving in on him from above and behind him; what was more, it would reach him well before the other three wooden swords did. This was the exact same attack that Fluffles had hit him with before—the one that’d required Fluffles to use his once-a-week healing mist thingy.

Without even turning around to look, Zach shifted his grip on his sword so that he held it horizontally, and then he raised his arms high while slightly ducking his head. Rather than bludgeon him as Fluffles had done earlier, the wooden sword instead met his steel, and then with a push, Zach forcibly shoved it backwards and away from him just as the other three finally came to within striking distance.

Both the one in front and the one to his right attacked simultaneously, with the one in front pointed at his stomach and coming at him in a thrust, whereas the one to his right seemed to be aiming a rounded slash at his neck. Zach, becoming a bit alarmed, realized that this was going to push his reflexes and reaction speed to the limit. Nevertheless, he maintained his cool as he hastily spun on his heels to the right, fully turning his body in the direction of the second sword, thus making it so that this one was now the one in front of him and the thrusting sword now became the one to his left.

With a grunt of exertion, he dashed backwards, narrowly avoiding the thrusting weapon, while simultaneously lifting his arms for an upwards slash at the wooden sword before him, which was a mere instant from thwacking him hard in the head. Luckily, his blade showed up first, and once more, with a loud crack, he split it in two.

Unfortunately, this left him open to attack from the third wooden sword, which he’d almost forgotten about while dealing with the other three. A pain exploded in his right shoulder as the wooden weapon whacked him so hard that he could actually hear the bone in his upper arm click. The pain was so intense it nearly caused him to drop his sword. Worse, the thrusting sword had already been pulled back and was about to launch forward for another strike, and the one that’d tried to hit him from behind was coming around for another attempt, too.

All three seemed to converge on him at once. Zach, hissing and swearing with the Gods-cursed searing, throbbing pain in his shoulder blade, pulled himself together just in time to throw himself backwards and onto the ground, coming into a back-roll right as all three of the summoned weapons pounded into the ground with enough force to cause grass and a few patches of dirt to kick up into the air.

Returning to his feet, he backed several steps away as the three wooden swords lifted off the ground, turned in his direction, and then fanned out before soaring after him like missiles. Trying to ignore the agony in his right shoulder, he continued to backpedal.

I can’t outrun these! he realized, watching nervously as the three wooden swords zipped across the field and headed straight for him. They were now coming at him more like spears than swords. To hell with running!

Still backing away, he forced himself into an abrupt halt, planted his feet into the ground while bending his knees. He decided: it was time to go on the offensive. If there was no escaping these summoned weapons, then he’d hit them before they hit him.

Moving both his hands over to his right shoulder with the sharp end of his blade pointed off to his right, he swung the blade outward in a crescent-shaped arc. Due to a mixture of anger, pain, and adrenaline, he hit the first wooden sword with enough force that the impact caused it to simply explode. The Gods-damned thing just…it just exploded. It must’ve shattered into at least fifty different pieces. He almost blinded himself as the resulting spray of wood dust got into his eyes. Somehow, he blinked the junk out, then took a full step back, as the next two came flying towards him. Stepping into the swing, he viciously whirled his blade up and into the next of the swords-turned-projectiles. This too exploded upon impact.

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When the third finally reached him, he sidestepped to put himself out of its flight path, causing it soar with an audible tearing sound over the grass before slowing, coming to a halt, and then racing back towards him the way it’d come.

“Kiss my ass!” he shouted at it. He lifted his front leg, placed it back down while shifting his body weight forward, and then unleashed a swing of his blade that struck the wooden sword a mere instant before it struck him, destroying it completely. All three of them were now destroyed, but all three of them had been dealt with using far more force than required. Even still, it felt damn good—but it was hard to say it’d been worth it, because now, he was beginning to breathe heavily.

If he hadn’t felt the strain of exertion up until this point, he sure did now. How much time had passed? It had to be at least a minute or two. Right? How much more of this would he have to endure? And why-oh-why were there six—no, seven—shadows surrounding him as though he were the center part of a flower—the pistil—and they were his petals?

“Fluffles!” he shouted. “This isn’t fair!”

Seven wooden swords converged on him all at once. Swearing loudly Zach bent his knees and then dashed backwards, throwing himself out of the way as they all struck the ground at the same time, causing more grass and dirt to fire up into the air and leaving a nasty hole that looked out of place in the otherwise immaculately beautiful grassy park. Unfortunately, despite slamming into the ground with such massive force, Zach didn’t think the wooden weapons sustained any damage, as all seven lifted back up, turned towards him, and continued to fly his way, regaining any and all speed they’d lost following their impact with the ground.

Gods damn it! This is absolutely ridiculous!

The seven wooden swords were absolutely relentless in their pursuit of him. And to make things even more intimidating, all seven emitted a high-pitched whistling noise as they tore through the air at him, moving far faster than any of the others had up until this point. They were all coming at him now, and all so fast. This could be bad. This could be real bad.

The sheer terror that welled up within Zach was enough to completely overwrite his exhaustion as his heart began to pound wildly in his chest and his brain was taken over by adrenaline. Up until this very moment, he had been calm, cool, collected, and he had fought more with his brain than with his body. But now? Now, he went on autopilot, allowing instinct to take over. He no longer could afford to worry about which actions used less energy. Now, he just needed to survive: at any cost.

The seven wooden swords were on him so quickly that they were almost like bullets. Zach, through some miracle, managed to duck under the first one, which was traveling so fast that, despite being made of wood, it looked like it really stood a chance of running him right through and skewering him. Hastily craning his neck, he took an extremely brief glance over his shoulder as he watched it fly away. Then, looking back ahead of him, he jumped to the side to avoid the second one. The third sword was on him less than an instant after that, and evading required him to completely twist his body to the left while bending backwards. Zach gritted his teeth as it flew mere inches above his face, the high-pitched whistling sound coming across like a scream.

The fourth, however, came even closer to getting him than the third had. It flew in low, and he’d had to jump over it. Though he succeeded, it was only through blind, sheer luck, as he’d jumped without even really seeing it. It had been a total and complete guess.

The fifth and six came next, but unlike the first four, Fluffles was using these sword as, well…you know, swords. Rather than hurl them at Zach like Javelins, with these two he opted for a more traditional slashing approach. Zach readied himself as both of them attacked at the exact same time. One was flying just above his left shoulder, and the other flew just above his right. Luckily, however, since they were both slashing downwards diagonally at him from equally distant points at ninety-degree angles, both swords would end up meeting at the same spot, which in this case would be his nose.

Heart pounding with fear and adrenaline, Zach raised his sword to guard, blocking both of the wooden blades at the exact same time. Despite being a case of steel against wood, the two summoned weapons still collided with enough force to send an uncomfortable vibration of pure shock into his wrists; even still it was a hell of a lot better than what would’ve happened if they’d succeeded in connecting with his face.

With his blade gripped tightly in both hands, Zach grunted and pushed with all his strength, shoving the two wooden swords off of him just as the seventh came in low for a sweep. Zach jumped over the wooden sword, evading the attack. But this time, rather than allow it to pull away and reposition itself for yet another go at him, he lifted his right leg and then stomped his foot down on top of it, pinning it in place; this, as the first blade that’d originally flown over his shoulder had now managed to come back around for a second attempt.

Using every last trace of his willpower to keep fear from leading to a premature attack, Zach fought to control his reflexes, commanding his body not to move until he knew the time was right. Holding his sword so that it was horizontal and level with his chest, he focused intensely on the wooden sword, which genuinely seemed to be moving as fast as a DEHV as it ripped through the air towards him.

Not yet, he told himself, sweat falling down his forehead and onto the grass. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, not yet, not yet…okay, now!

He swung out in a circular arc, splitting the flying wooden projectile into two equal pieces, with one piece flying over his left shoulder and one over his right. Both fell lifelessly to the ground the moment that the second and third wooden weapons closed in on him. Zach raised his sword to defend himself, nearly falling over as the one pinned under his foot seemed to wiggle there as though it were actually alive. Ignoring it for the moment, Zach made two fast strikes with his weapon: an upwards slash followed immediately by a downwards cut. The result was that two more of the wooden blades were felled.

Somehow, as though through a divine act, Zach had managed to take out three of the seven wooden swords. But it was looking like his luck was about to run dry. The fifth and sixth sword, which he’d shoved away from him only a moment prior, were both now coming back in for a rematch. That wasn’t exactly great, but on its own, it wasn’t catastrophic, either; no, what made things so terrible was that, at the exact same time they came in to strike his front side, the fourth wooden blade was moving at breakneck speed towards him from behind.

Oh, Gods be damned, I might be screwed here!

The two swords in front of him were floating shoulder level but were no longer entirely symmetrical, which would make guarding against them more difficult. How was he supposed to deal with the two swords in front of him and the one that’d been fired like a gun at his back? The hell did Fluffles expect from him? Gods-damned cat. This was total horseshit!

Knowing the worst thing he could do was be indecisive, Zach decided to risk everything on a whim. Rather than wait for all three to come to him, he blasted forward on his feet, charging straight at the two in front of him. The one on his left struck out while the one on the right pulled back as if preparing to do the very same. Clearly, Fluffles, who was controlling them, had not expected that move from Zach, as it had thrown off the coordination of the floating weapons.

Everything that came next took place within a second. First, Zach swung his sword horizontally outwards to meet the wooden weapon on his left head-on. The two collided midair, steel defeated wood, and the weapon was shattered. Then, dropping to his knees, he ducked beneath the slash from the one on his right, before jumping back to his feet and delivering an upwards strike with enough power cleave it in two. Then, finally, knowing he was completely out of time, and able to hear the horrifying whistling as the final wooden sword drew closer, he gripped his weapon tightly, bent his knees, and then spun around in a half circle while extending his arms, swinging the blade around with him.

Through either sheer luck or the intervention of Gods, his blade managed to meet the wooden sword with a deafening, deep crack that saw the wooden weapon not only split apart, but it sent a large chunk of it blasting into the sky and off into the distance; it traveled so far that it did not come back down until it landed all the way on the other side of the massive field. The blade he'd been stomping on also seemed to lie still.

Now, with all seven defeated, he began to pant and gasp for air. All around him, pieces of wood and broken sword were littering the park’s field. It was a good thing he’d brought along a black trash-bag, having learned his lesson from yesterday. By the time he and Fluffles were done, there was going to be so many broken pieces of splintery wood that needed to be picked up.

Barely able to keep his sword gripped in his tired hands, he opened his mouth wide, huffing, breathless, desperate for air that wasn’t so gods-damned hot and humid. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. In fact, he was pretty certain he’d pretty much maxed himself out. And as Fluffles meowed and caused not seven, not eight, not even nine, but ten more wooden swords to simply pop into existence in a row above him, it was all Zach could do not to moan like a loser and cry. He had given it his all. He was done for. There was no way he could—

His eyes widened in surprise as the alarm on his phone went off. At first, he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating it or really hearing it. He almost wasn’t able to bring himself to believe it was real. But it was. It really, really was. The usually unpleasant sound of an alarm was now a beautiful, sweet, enchanting melody to his ears, a song so lovely he wanted to walk Kalana down the aisle to it if he was ever lucky enough to actually marry her.

I did it. I freaking did it!

He’d won. He’d passed the test. He was better than his cat! Fluffles lost, and Zach won! Ahaha! Even though the cat had nearly turned him into a human dartboard, he’d still somehow managed to pull himself together enough to survive the full five minutes!

I did it! I actually did it. Oh Gods, I really did!

And that, unfortunately, was when it happened. That was the moment that Zachys Calador made one of the stupidest, regrettable, and most easily foreseeable mistakes maybe since the moment of his birth. That was when he did something that, in hindsight, was so obviously dumb that he almost deserved what came next. But in his defense—in the name of all that was fair, decent, or reasonable, his adrenaline was still pumping hardcore, his brain and body were exhausted, he’d almost died like fifty times in just the last minute alone, and he was feeling euphoric at accomplishing something for once.

If someone was being fair, they would have to take those factors into account. You must understand: poor Zach was simply not in his normal state of mind, and so he couldn’t fully be held accountable for what came next. Not after what he’d endured in this ungodly heat! Ah, well. Either way, regardless of how culpable, the outcome wouldn’t have changed.

Zach, hopped up on a combination of adrenaline, victory, and battle rage, filled with a giddiness so strong in him that it’d turned him stupid. For in this moment, he chose to do something so unfathomably stupid that he probably should’ve earned an award for it. He chose to do something so breathtakingly moronic that it probably broke a world record of some kind.

With a confident, arrogant smirk, he turned to Fluffles, pointed at him, laughed in his face, and shouted, “Ahahaha! You stupid cat! You lose! I win! You lose! Fluffles 0, Zach 1. Test equals passed, Fluffles. You got wrecked. Suck. My. Balls!” He pumped his fist in the air. “Go Zach!”

Fluffles hissed.

*****

Zach screamed and whimpered as at least seven bolts of lightning exploded three trees, set an entire wall of shrubbery on fire, and caused Zach to yelp as again and again, he came to within inches of being struck. He pumped his arms, running for literally all that he was worth as he saw his life flash before his eyes.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the little ball of black and white fur racing after him, hissing and angrily meowing as the cat simply ran through an entire wall of flames without care or concern. How was he so Gods-damned fast?

“Fluffles, I didn’t mean it!” Zach screamed.

The cat was bringing out everything on him. Everything. This was the single-scariest moment of Zach’s life. This was doomsday. Lightning bolts ripped across the sky, slamming into everything around him, while giant, dark purple balls of energy crashed into the ground around Zach and exploded upon impact, causing massive clumps of dirt and grass to launch into the air while razor-sharp, high-level weapons including swords, maces, and a two-handed axe the size of a car door pursued him with a never-ending fury.

“I’m gonna die. I’m really gonna die!”

It didn’t matter how fatigued he was. It didn’t matter how exhausted. Zach just kept on running. This was the purest form of flight or fight he’d ever experienced. Screams came from everywhere as families that’d been enjoying picnics bolted upright and began to flee, most even leaving their belongings behind.

“What’s happening?” a woman screamed in confusion as a bolt of lightning set her picnic blanket on fire as well as the tree behind her. “Save me, Frank!”

“Save you?” a man said. “Save you!” he repeated. “This is your fault, bitch! This is because you worshipped the incorrect God! I told you this would happen!”

“Ohhh, no!” she cried. “Spare us, oh Great Sehn! We are sorry!”

Zach felt bad for them, but right now, he felt worse for himself. Yelling aloud as he fled, he raced across the park as fast as his legs would carry him, then wailed in confusion and horror as a cannonball—yes, a fucking cannonball—simply disintegrated a portion of the field in front of him with a thunderous boom that caused his ears to ring and sent him flying off his feet. In total, he was thrown at least a dozen yards backwards, landing with a painful thud on his back and coming into a roll.

“What the hell is going on?” a man in gym shorts holding a stick for some kind of sport cried. “Are we being attacked? Why is this happening?”

“My cat’s mad at me!” Zach replied to him. “Run! He’ll kill you all!” He climbed up to his feet, staggering a little, then continued to run.

“Stop run!” Fluffles shouted. “I catch you!”

“Fluffles, I said I’m sorry!”

“You say suck ball and then call Fluffles stupid cat!”

“I’m sorry!”

Fluffles hissed. “I help best friend Zach, then he laugh and say those things about Fluffles!”

Zach, on wobbly legs, nearly fell over, but it was actually a good thing: a really, really good thing, because it caused him to stumble off to the side rather than continuing to run forward which, if he had, would have led to him sprinting directly into a massive bolt of lightning.

“This is some bullshit!” Zach called back to him as he jumped over the fence that led back onto the street. He landed in a crouch, came into another roll, sprang back up to his feet, and then continued to dart across the wide street in the direction of his bike. Everywhere he looked, people screamed in utter confusion, not understanding why things were blowing up or being set on fire.

To make everything even more humiliating, the woman whose motel they’d been staying at had given Fluffles one of those little bells that go on cats. Fluffles claimed he didn’t like collars, but he was willing to wear one for a day because he did like the bell. So now, as Zach sprinted well beyond the point of exhaustion just to continue living, he had to hear the Gods-damned bell jingling as the cat launched what looked like an airstrike at him along with more dark purple balls of raw, pulsating energy. Oh, and look! How wonderful. Now, there were fireballs, too!

Realizing he wasn’t going to make it to his bike, Zach jumped into the air, cradled his knees to his chest, and ducked his head as he crashed through the first-floor window of a supermarket that was closed for remodeling. The fireball heading for him passed through the area he’d been standing until slamming into the sign out front, setting the entire thing ablaze. Zach landed inside the supermarket in a roll, pain shooting through his bruised right shoulder. The fire crews and peacekeeper sirens were growing louder by the second. It was a Gods-damned miracle no one had died yet or faced serious injury.

“Fluffles, please! I said I’m sorry!”

The cat jumped into the window, hissing. Zach looked over his shoulder, trembling. He grabbed something, anything, to use as a weapon. He wrapped his hands around something then held it out in front of him defensively. Oddly enough, this caused Fluffles to stop in his tracks.

“Three, not one,” Fluffles growled.

“Wh-wh-what?” Zach asked.

“Fluffles want three!”

He had no idea what the cat was talking about. Then he looked down and saw the can of tuna in his hand.

“You…you want this?”

“Yes! Fluffles want three cans of tuna now because Zach say mean thing. And two hours chin scratches.”

“You’re…you’re not going to kill me?”

Fluffles meowed. “I would not!”

“But all that lightning?”

“I miss on purpose.”

“Liar.”

“Not lie! Zach level 3. Fluffles could kill in one second!”

He brushed against Zach, who was leaning against the cat food aisle while he sat on the floor of the supermarket. “I forgive Zach because he will give apology tuna and extra scratches on chin.”

Zach nodded cautiously. “So…so we’re cool?”

“No more make fun of Fluffles.”

“I won’t!”

“Okay.” He brushed against Zach again. “I will be a good cat too.” He meowed and sniffed the can of tuna in Zach’s hand, clearly wanting it. If Zach gave it to him without paying for it, wouldn’t that be bad?

“So uh, since we’ve already crashed through here, should we…you know…”

“Hm?”

“I’m just saying. This place isn’t open, and it’s just a few cans of tuna, but…”

“Yes!” Fluffles cheered. “Let’s steal!”

“Ugh. When you make it sound like a happy thing that way, it makes me want to do it less. Look, no matter what, I think we should probably get out of this town.” He swallowed nervously. “We kind of just committed the worst act of terror any of these people are likely to see in their entire lives.”

Fluffles purred, and Zach, to his own surprise, actually pet him despite the cat nearly killing him multiple time. It was…a complicated relationship.

Zach got up, his body exhausted and worn. “How much damage did we do?” he asked. “I think it’s just this window and some fire in the field. But sheesh, Fluffles. Did you have to shoot a cannonball at me?”

“Yes!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Now Zach know not to make fun of Fluffles or I fire cannon.”

“Is that really a proportionate and fair response to name-calling?”

Fluffles thwacked his tail angrily on the supermarket floor. “Next time I fire 2 cannons.”

Zach couldn’t believe how much power the cat—or not even just the cat, but anyone would have at level 47. It only highlighted the extreme disparity between those who were leveled and those who weren’t. It was simply beyond belief that a person could become this much stronger than the average, ordinary level-1. It was no wonder the elites didn’t want to share their spawn points. They must’ve loved being Gods.

“Okay, let’s go back to the bike and get the hell out of here. I passed your test, right?”

He stuffed the cans of tuna into his backpack then decided to leave 10g on the counter even knowing that likely wouldn’t cover the cost of the window or the sign on fire. With a nervous laugh, he decided to make it 20g. Then Fluffles hissed, and he knocked it down to 15.

“Um, Zach?” Fluffles asked as they climbed back out of the window together, his voice unnervingly cute and innocent.

“What is it?”

“You…you promise not ever tell Alex or daddy what Fluffles do?”

“You’re worried about that?”

Fluffles’ legs trembled. It was the first time he’d ever seen the cat show fear. “Fluffles get punished and yelled at if daddy or Alex find out I blow up town.”

Zach looked out of the broken window. All things considered, the damage wasn’t that bad. No homes or properties other than the supermarket window and sign had been damaged, and the field could probably be fixed just by covering the holes with some dirt and getting new shrubbery for the shrub wall—if that was even something that could be done. Zach had no idea how that whole thing worked.

“I promise I won’t rat you out, little buddy. But don’t do that again. Sheesh.”

“Fluffles promise. I will be a good cat. I no more blow up towns. I’m sorry.”

“And I’m sorry too. I was a total dick.”

“My feet tired now!”

Without waiting for a reply, Fluffles jumped into his arms, wanting to be carried. As if Zach wasn’t exhausted enough as things were, now he had to lug the cat around until they got to the bike? He sighed. It was well beyond the point they needed to proceed onwards.

Fluffles fell asleep by the time he got back to the bike. He gently put him inside the basket and then hopped on. Every bone and muscle in his body ached, but something told him it would be good to get away from this place.

****

“You’re sure?” Anelia asked. “It was the boy with the five-million bounty in this picture?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the woman replied. “He came into my gods-damned store with a talking cat and started terrorizing me. Then I hear he started some mischief over in Doom-Bound Keep, the next town over.”

Anelia Hellcrest had to resist the urge to lick her lips. If this was true, then it sounded like none of the other bounty hunters had found him yet. The People of Virtue were willing to pay big for his head. Well, all the guilds were, but they were willing to pay the most. Anelia had no idea what the pipsqueak could’ve done to draw such ire, but she didn’t care, either. All that mattered was that she was on his trail, and she would find him first. This job might even be easy.