He was trying to not look at his leg.

He grabbed onto the edge of the table, pulling himself upright. Sweat was getting in his eyes. Christ, it was hot as hell in this cabin.

He managed to get one leg under him, but he couldn't let go of the table. His right leg didn't just hurt, it felt weird. Too loose around his knee. And he couldn't move anything below it. He could wiggle his toes, but that was it.

He squinted through the pain into the gloomy room; the cabin only had one, lit by a solitary lamp on the table. It made the black guy hard to see. Not on account of his skin; no, it was the black robes he was wearing. He looked like a goddamn priest.

The guy's wide brimmed black hat was still on the table, next to the lamp. He had put the hat right on the table while they were talking with Vito's guys. No one saw him come in; there were supposed to be people watching the front. But this psycho still appeared out of nowhere in this tiny cabin and dropped his hat on the table, right on top of the pack of stims and bag of gold.

That's when everything went nuts.

He grabbed his head. That happened…?

Like two minutes ago.

Everyone had jumped up, trying to pull weapons. Both his guys and Vito's were asking who this black guy was, was this a setup?!

And that's when the fuckin' black started beating the shit outta all of them. Didn't say anything; suddenly it was all fists and elbows, moving quicker than anything he'd ever seen. He moved faster than the wind, with the efficiency of machinery. Not one punch or kick was wasted.

Knives were whipped out and immediately slapped away. Someone pulled out a tiny one-or-two charge wand, but all that happened was the black sidestepped the shots, and the wrong man now had two smoking holes in his chest.

This… kung-fu guy, this monk, kicked the side of his knee hard, and… now there was something wrong with his leg. He didn't want to look.

It felt like it was dangling loose, and, well… he could only move his toes, now.

Holding himself up on the table, he tried to pull his spare knife out of his boot. But his hand hung only halfway to the blade, as he watched the priest slide about the room, in-between the sword and club swings of the dealers. The tiny room meant that they kept hitting everything but the priest, and one of them accidentally buried his blade into his buddy, filling the room with his screams.

The priest used this distraction to ram the heel of his palm up into the sword wielder's nose, and now… all there was a flap of skin and a hole in the man's face. It really didn't look like he had a nose anymore.

And that was it. The only guy left standing was the priest.

He gingerly picked up his hat, putting it back on, then the bag of stims, the purses of gold, and the oil lamp. He wasn't even looking at the man with the broken knee hanging onto the table. The priest turned up the flames in the lamp, and headed to the door.

The man with the broken leg hissed in pain as he looked at the bodies strewn about the cabin. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he gasped. "You come right outta a comic book…"

The priest paused at the door for a moment, before turning around and crossing back over to the man. "My dearest brother in Christ, I do appreciate the compliment.

"However."

The priest smiled.

"I'll have to ask that you do not blaspheme."

The last thing he remembered was the priest's heel being driven straight into his nose.

=== Part 2: Chemical Calisthenics ===

"I don't want to make a fire."

"Why noooot?"

"I don't see why we can't have a fire, Anya."

Anya was crouched on the ground, her back to the two of them. She was letting dirt fall through her fingers, not for any reason other than she liked how it felt. It was a habit she picked up somewhere. It looked like you were trying to do something, that you knew what you were doing.

She didn't have her leather gloves on, but she was wearing the rest of her armor. She hadn't worn anything else for a week now. She felt sweaty, even in the shade of the forest canopy. Little golden pools of sunlight trickled through the thick leaves overhead, splashing over roots that ran every which way as they tumbled and twisted over each other. Sitting still like this, you could catch centipedes slithering through them, darting under rocks. Ticks were probably going to drop onto all their heads and start gorging on their scalps. She figured there would be snakes as well, though hopefully the type that would be more interested in the bugs. There was a chance that the boy might be able to cure them of poison, but maybe not.

A breeze passed through, picking up the leaves and causing them to dance in this small clearing. She sighed, and looked up at the canopy. Bits of blue peeked down at her above.

She sighed.

"We're still in the search zone. Green shirts might patrol out here."

Qiáng shuffled the load she held in her arms, trying to look condescending despite having more than a few hairs sticking up on her head. "The pigs wouldn't come out this far."

"What makes you so sure."

"There's no reason to."

Anya turned back to her. "You're callin' them lazy."

Qiáng's face darkened. "I'm not so reductionist."

"Use smaller words. Save your breath."

Qiáng narrowed her eyes.

It didn't bother Anya. She shrugged and turned back to the clearing. "There could be militias. There could be money out for us. And I didn't mention it when we first met… but I killed three men out here."

There was silence behind her. A cold one, that was very nervous.

"They attacked me. I killed them. These paths aren't that safe." She let the last of the dirt fall between her fingers, then stood and turned to her companions. "There's all kinds of shit crawling through these woods. We need to be quiet until we get further north. Okay? That means…"

She finally noticed the kindling the other two were carrying.

"You two are goin' to get us fuckin' killed." She rubbed her face, accidentally getting dirt all over it. "Make a small fire. Got it? A small one."

===+++===

Anya stared angrily into the bonfire, and the very-fucking-visible-for-miles plume of smoke shooting into the sky. The fire was barely contained within the circle of rocks that the two morons set up.

There was so much wood thrown in there that Anya thought those dipshits wouldn't be able to get it lit at first. But then Qiáng pulled one of her wands and blasted the pile, which sent burning wood all over. While Kevin and Qiáng stood there dumbfounded, Anya had run around picking up the stray twigs and throwing them back into the inferno. It was a goddamn miracle they hadn't burned the whole forest down.

They kept feeding the fire, which took far more effort than it was worth. Anya only watched them work, sulking.

Kevin was laying on his back, sleeping with his mouth open, breathing heavily but not snoring, per se. She wondered if one of the centipedes would crawl into it.

Qiáng was sitting tailor-style on her blanket, furiously brushing her hair. Anya began to watch her.

Qiáng tried to pretend she didn't notice, but eventually slapped her brush down. "What?!"

"What exactly are you."

"What do you mean by that?"

Anya stood up, and started to pace. "You shot up that archer pretty good, and you move real quick. You're a talented… sorceress? That's your class, right? Or enchanter? Or you…?"

"I multi-class, what's your point."

"I can't figure you out." Anya stopped and stared down at Qiáng. "You're staying awake right now."

Qiáng cocked her head and looked confused.

"Only one of us needs to keep watch," Anya said.

Qiáng looked about the area, not at anything in particular, but more like she was struggling to think. "I… I don't follow? What the hell are you talking about?"

Anya was rubbing her face again. "Oh Jesus Christ…"

Qiáng stood up. "You suddenly have a problem with me?"

"You're an excellent killer, but you stumble through the woods like an idiot. Like, the fuckin' kid is doing better than you."

"Now, hold…"

"I mean," and Anya motioned at Qiáng's brogues.

Qiáng looked down. She unconsciously wiggled her toes inside them.

"Seriously?" Anya cocked her head.

Qiáng looked back up. "They're functional."

Anya's eyes looked pained.

"Get off my case, Vicars."

"What did you do before the working at the shop? I'm traveling with you, I've got the right to know."

Qiáng sat back down and began to mess with her hair again.

Anya walked over to her and squatted. She put a hand on Qiáng's to make her stop. "All you've told me is that you aren't lettin' the boy outta your sight. I try to get a reason outta you and get nothin'."

"You haven't said much, either."

"He asked me to help him, not you. You were eavesdroppin' at the Tree House that night, weren't you? That's how you heard about his sister?"

No response.

"I can't figure ya, Guo." Anya stood back up and paced again. "You're a creepy, sneaky little bitch who has a penchant for overkill. It goes against your quiet nature."

"It's effective."

"For what?"

"Intimidation."

Anya stopped walking and gave Qiáng her full attention.

"Have you ever regretted anything, Ms. Vicars?"

"Every damn day."

Qiáng gently put her brush down, and folded her hands nearly in her lap. "What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

Anya didn't say anything.

"You've alluded to something awful before, back at the fountain…"

"I'm not talkin' about that…"

"Then I shall remain quiet as well." Qiáng looked up with defiant eyes.

Anya nodded. "I am still worried that you don't have any idea what you're doing out in the woods."

Qiáng rolled her eyes and wrapped herself up in her bedclothes, turning her back to her. Anya shook her head, and started towards her own bedroll.

"I worked for the enterprise. You people call it the Red Gang," Qiáng said.

Anya stopped, her blood now cold. She didn't dare turn around and show Qiáng her freaked out face. Wordlessly, she wrapped herself in her bedroll, and tried to sleep, forgetting that no one was keeping watch now.

===+++===

Later the next day, the group decided to brave the road, as opposed to wondering the woods. It was mostly Anya acquiescing to the non-stop whining of the other two. Yes, that included Qiáng; the woman didn't think she was whining, just showing concern, but it was straight up whining in reality. Anya hadn't pressed anymore on Qiáng's previous life; she didn't know if she'd ever want to. But certain things made sense now: her hatred of the pigs, and the fact that this chick was a bona-fide bad ass–as long as she was within a mile of a convenience store. And mass transit. And clothing stores. On occasion, Anya would look at the dirty spots on Qiáng's cloak and wince. The woman had her stockings back on; the first few days, she took them off, afraid of getting runs. As a result, her legs were eaten alive by bugs. Anya asked her if she had any long socks, and got no reply. Ever since, Qiáng wore her stockings. She owned more than one pair, but they were all getting chewed up. And her hair. Dear god; it was sticking up here and there, despite the time she dedicated to brushing it every night.

The kid was faring a bit better, but mostly more through determination than skill. The boy was simply ignoring how sore his feet were, even though Anya could tell how much pain he was in. Kevin favored his left foot, and it didn't look like he paid it much notice (this meant two of them had a limp). If he kept up like that, he wouldn't be able to travel very fast or far. The kid was wearing open toed sandals, not boots with distance in mind. And the white robes he wore kept getting caught on branches, not to mention stuck out in the green of the forest.

She was going to need to get them both new kit at the next town. There was no way around it. But where were they going to get the gold for that? How much would they be fleeced?

More importantly, how far did this kid want to go? She hadn't pried into what Kevin was after yet. The three of them were too busy getting away from town. It was more than super likely that the three men she and Qiáng killed were known quantities there. You don't attack anyone in a town unless you have protection. No matter what. That meant none of them knew which green shirts to trust, and who trusts the filth anyway? They want everyone alive, except victims, because a murder rap might look better to convict. People don't understand that a DA prosecutes not to actually do anything, but to put positive marks on their career. Mayors freak out about high crime rates. Cops and prosecutors can keep their jobs if crime is fucked, as long as they rack up convictions. It makes them look busy.

Yeah. Fuck that. You'd have to be a goddamn moron.

While she was thinking about all this, Anya's eyes were flicking about. Qiáng couldn't even tell that Anya was deep in thought, though she did have her suspicions. The woman never talked while they were walking. It made the trip so damn unnerving. It was weird for an American to keep her fucking mouth shut, especially since she would become a typical yankee motormouth in town.

Qiáng looked down at one of her hands, flexing her fingers. It wasn't like she wasn't one of them. She sighed. Her family raised her different than the other kids, but there was also the distinct feeling that her parents thought her, on some level, alien. They still loved her, but there was a feeling that there was some kind of distinction between her and them. The family stopped speaking English at home sometime when she was… eleven? Once they determined Qiáng had a good grasp of the language. Words would sneak in here and there, but it was pretty much all Mandarin at home. Mostly. Japanese would still sneak in there, mostly through her parents.

When she was young, she didn't give much thought to that. After all, the war was going on when she was in kindergarten. She wished she didn't remember any of that. Other people talk about how nice and cozy kindergarten is. All she remembered from her young years was being yelled at and being in trouble all the time, and other kids pushing her around. She didn't understand why her parents were thinking of pulling her out of public school and homeschooling her. She was too young to think about a global war. She always thought it was weird to call it the third in a series. The other two happened over a hundred years ago. A century is a hell of a break for that kind of conflict.

Whatever, she never bothered looking into what it was all about. All she knew was that the conflict only ended when she was going into college. And thinking about that made her wonder why her applications kept getting rejected, about how she damn well knew she was overqualified, and about the two years she spent in community college. At least she was able to transfer, and finish her school.

And then she'd gone and fucked it all up by getting stuck in Anereta. All because she liked hiking, and there was no place to hike in the city; you needed to drive for hours to find a spot, and that meant needing a car she didn't have, and she liked to hike alone, so she didn't want to bum a ride…

She looked down at her shoes. Anya was judging her. She knew that. Well, fuck her. Like she even knew the first thing Qiáng was even capable of…

Oh fuck.

Anya and Kevin were stopped maybe thirty feet ahead, waiting for her.

Jesus fucking Christ.

She started to jog up to them, but Anya put her hands up and told her to slow down. "We can rest a bit," she said to Qiáng, and Qiáng thought to herself that she used to be Anya's fucking boss, and Vicars hadn't even been that good at woodworking. Platinum pink hair. What the fuck.

Great. She was getting hangry again. And it must have been obvious; when Anya offered her some of the last jerky, she snatched it from her and ate it before she knew she was doing so. She knew Anya turned her back to not watch, because Qiáng was pretty much deep throating the meat, and she was self-conscious of it. She hated that Anya had given her the jerky, that Anya had already figured her out to that degree, knew exactly when Qiáng was getting too hungry without asking… but Qiáng also could kiss her on the mouth for offering the food, sweet food! oh man! nothing better than to have a good snack on the trail! This was what it even was about! Even trail mix! Qiáng would kill for even fucking trail mix right now!

She wondered if she actually liked trail mix that much, or if this was an in-the-moment kind of love.

The thought was thrown out of her head after she finished eating and asked if there was more to eat.

Now Anya did turn to look at her, and struggled to move her raised eyebrow back down. She could feel Kevin looking at her now, too. Anya closed her eyes with a sigh, and rummaged through her pack. Yes, Anya had quickly put herself in charge of the food the second day. The first day she said anyone could carry whatever.

She'd never forgiven herself for making that mistake.

Kevin didn't even see Qiáng's hand as she snatched the jerky from Anya. One minute, Anya was holding the meat. The next, Anya's eyes were wide, staring at her empty hand, and Qiáng was chewing noisily with her mouth shut, both hands in her cloak. Anya, with a look near-akin to horror and/or trepidation, looked up slowly from her hand to Qiáng's face.

"Um… hey," she said.

"Mmm?" Qiáng kept chewing.

"Uh… are you okay?"

"Yep." She'd already swallowed the meat. All of it. Now she was looking at Anya again, hungrily.

Kevin was suddenly reminded of a dog his family had for some reason.

"I'm… I'm gonna have to shoot another rabbit," Anya said.

"Okay, then," Qiáng replied.

"...you understand that's a pain in the ass, right? I have to make another makeshift bow again, plus wood arrows."

"We can trap one, like you said."

"That takes a long time. I said that if we ever had to camp out for a long time… forget it. Let's… let's just sit for a bit."

They both jumped as Kevin's immediately plopped onto the ground. Weird. He hadn't felt tired a second ago. Now, he felt like he couldn't stand anymore. Also, ouch! His left knee was hurting! What the hell?! When did that happen?!

Anya, for the thousandth time, rubbed her face. She kept her eyes closed for more than a bit, both her companions essentially at her feet… in the middle of the goddamn dirt road.

In for four.

Out for four.

She emptied her head.

She tried to forget that this was a tactic to stave off a panic attack.

In for four.

Out for four.

"Let's… let's sit, maybe, over there?"

"Mmm," Qiáng.

"Unhh," Kevin.

They both crouch walked over to the side of the road and sat back down.

Progress.

She joined them and pulled up a region map. They needed to find a fucking town. There was no way they could keep going like this. Whatever town was the closest, they needed to find an inn. And probably one where they could find a job.

Fuck.

"Hey."

"Mmm," Qiáng.

"Unhh," Kevin.

"I think we need to form a guild."

Qiáng blinked at her. "What? Why?"

Because they needed money for an inn and to get these fucking morons boots and Jesus fuck, do either of them even have a survival knife? or any sort of kit? because they weren't going to make it far like this and she was going to need to probably buy a fucking bow because the one she made last week wasn't going to cut it, hopefully they could make their own arrows, and who knew how far they were going to escort Kevin…?

"We can't apply for jobs and split the money without being a guild or party. That means we need to form something official. Hell, we haven't even friended each other yet."

"You said to not do that," Qiáng said.

"Yeah! You said we shouldn't!" Kevin piped up.

"Yes, I know I said that…"

"You said that we needed plausible deniability, Anya."

"Yeah! Plaus… plausi… what Qiáng said!"

"Well, now the circumstances have changed. It was a bad idea." She'd originally suggested that they don't add each other to friend or favorite lists in case they needed to deny knowing each other, in case they ever split up to avoid being caught. Well, fuck that now. That'd never happen; there was no way in fuck she could leave either of these two alone out here. "I'll admit that. So," she held up her wrist, scanning both of them, then messed with her menus, "let's just forget I said that. I sent you both requests." The other two looked at each other, then scanned and each other. After all the requests were accepted, Qiáng dropped her wrist and Anya started messing about with menus only she could see. "Okay. We have the minimum amount of people to do this. Thank god it isn't four anymore. Three's a weird number, but whatever. This will definitely help us get jobs, which are better than quests. Christ, we don't want to be the kind of poors that do game quests. If you're in a guild, people trust ya more. Ya seem like better mercs than some solo or group of unorganized fuckwits."

Something was wrong. She looked up from her wrist.

The other two were staring at her.

"Ummm… hi?" she squeaked.

"Does that really help?" Qiáng's voice had a tremor of uncertainty to it.

"What's a guild? Is that like a clan? Or a eSports team?" Kevin asked.

Holy fucking shit.

In for four.

Out for four.

"Anya, are you all right?"

"Do you need any of my medicine?"

Anya's fingers were flitting through the air, typing on menus they couldn't see. "I'll, um, just fill out your qualifications for you."

"I feel like we can speak for ourselves, Anya…"

"Already done. Qiáng is a damn good DPS with creative custom spells, Kevin is a strong white mage who can throw down due to his large frame. Perfect. Don't stare at me like that."

"DPS?"

"Holy shit, how long have either of you been playing this game?"

Silence.

"...how much of the game did you play?"

Qiáng crinkled her brow. "Anya, I had a serious job on the outside. I couldn't get away from it to play around all the time."

Kevin looked embarrassed. "I couldn't log on a lot, because I always needed a guardian. My sister usually either logged with me or signed the form when she didn't."

Oh god.

They were gonna fucking die.

Okay. Okay. Maybe it wasn't that bad. They'd proven to be capable. After all, they'd been complicit in the murder of three men! Anya six overall!

Holy fuck, they were screwed.

"Why are you breathing like that?"

"My lieutenant taught me this."

"...he was a therapist?"

Anya threw up her hands. "Enough! Just… shut up, let me finish this." She went back to typing. Why the hell had they designed this to be done with one hand? She needed to hold up her left wrist and type with only her right hand. You needed to stare at the hand you couldn't use the entire time. Whatever. She needed to focus.

"Okay, most of it is done. Now, we just need a name… what the hell?" Marauders. The field was filled in with "Marauders." "Wait, did one of you just fill that in?" Damnit, she knew she should have made herself leader, instead of leaving it blank.

Kevin lowered his wrist and didn't say anything. Anya went to snap at him, but his face was dark. Even Qiáng was looking at him, concerned. He looked somewhat angry, but his eyes were pretty wet at the same time. He was staring at the ground, his fists clenched.

Anya swallowed, and shot a look at Qiáng. "Okay. The name's set, then." Not going to ask questions. Especially why Kevin picked a name like that. She moved on. "You two rested?" They were, so Anya led the way to the closest town.

They had three miles left to walk. The other two tried to keep a good posture or form so she wouldn't worry, and Anya let them think they were fooling her. She was going to grab the first job posted. No quests for bronze or silver; you either paid for stuff with gold or crypto. Other players didn't accept anything else, and other players made the only supplies worth a damn. Any other currency was worth less than nothing. They needed gold. Straight up gold, the game's premium currency you could buy with real money on the outside, and could trade for cryptocurrency. That meant taking a player-posted job.

She hoped to Christ it was going to be a legal job.

As they pushed on, they ran into more travelers going their same direction. Anya said it was good all these people weren't leaving, and she only received two grunts as a response. Qiáng was limping harder, now; Anya knew that meant she could walk for maybe another two hours. She looked up at the sky, trying to gauge the sun's position. They didn't want to hit the town at dark, because all the rooms for rent would be booked. They needed to get there soon. It took a normal person about fifteen minutes to walk a mile, and two of them were limping. Well… even in those circumstances, there should be plenty of time to find an inn before dark.

She kept an eye on their pace, and when the foot traffic picked up even more, made sure they were hiding any weapons. The town would hopefully let them right in, being that Anya had her cloak on, covering her heater shield and arming sword, and was clearly leading two terribly-fatigued helpless travelers.

That ended up being the case at the gates. There didn't seem to be any warrants for their arrest, and Anya introduced herself as the bodyguard for the other two. After asking about a spot where they could lodge, she quickly ushered the other two in.

They were both barely coherent and able to stand. Anya meant to ask them how much money they all had, but both of them were so glassy-eyed she put it off. Upon reaching the recommended inn, Qiáng stumbled forward and paid for everything. Anya sighed and took note of how much it cost so she and Kevin could pay Qiáng back later, and led her new guild up the stairs to the room.

There were two beds, both twins, and Qiáng and Kevin both collapsed onto the same nearest one to the door in a tangled heap. They were instantly asleep, leaving Anya to gingerly remove their packs and untangle their limbs a bit so they could be at least somewhat comfortable.

After that was done, Anya went downstairs and asked what they should have when they first arrived, and that was whether there was a place to bathe. The receptionist said there was a few tubs per floor, and their fees covered bathing. Anya thanked him, and went to take a bath, trying like hell to not think about how much fucking money this was all costing. Maybe Qiáng could get her hands on money outside the game and buy in-game premium gold currency. Sure, why not? Then it wouldn't be so bad that they were spending so much…

She took a fair amount of time washing herself. She still felt a bit uncomfortable with her new body, though that was slowly disappearing. Even though it had been years, she still could vividly recall the problems using soap on… herself caused. What a hell of a way to learn about the female anatomy. She didn't even know how she never knew that. Soaping her hair, she realized she'd never showered with a woman. How the hell had that happened? Only guys, she'd only showered with guys. If only she were a pure lesbian. She might have learned a thing or two.

The burning.

The itching.

The infections.

You probably have no idea.

Don't use soap down and in there.

An hour later and she was at a cobbler, telling the woman the sizes of her companions; Anya measured them with hand lengths as they slept, because those two weren't waking up until tomorrow, probably. These were going to be cheap boots, but boots were boots. Cobblers knew that even their cheap boots had to be good; once the convenience of Amazon was gone, people really understood how important sturdy shoes were. Any wanderers or fighters knew that as well; so, naturally, Anya asked the cobbler if any of the wandering mercs who came through talked about where to get work. Good work.

After dropping off the boots, she was at a board in front of a bumping bar. It seemed to be a great board, where many people grabbed jobs, because there was only one job left on the whole fucking thing. Resigned (and suddenly very tired), she went inside and bellied up to the bar, ordering a club sandwich and stout ale with her own gold.

When the tender was coming back with her second refill, she touched his arm and asked what was up with the street-preacher posting on the board outside. He nearly dropped her drink; after putting it down carefully, he asked her if she was stupid enough to take that job.

"I mean, I guess we'll see," was her reply. "I've got no idea what this is about, and there ain't anythin' else out there."

"I wouldn't try for that one," he said.

"I don't have a choice. I can't wait for gold to pop up."

"No one's caught that slippery fucker yet."

"What's his deal? Is he actually a preacher?"

"Well, he sure as hell preaches, and he dresses the part, but nobody really knows. Nobody really cares at this point, either. He's been runnin' around, fuckin' shit up around here for a while. The greens are goin' apeshit over this guy, and keep uppin' the reward."

"Aw, fuck, the greens put that job up?"

"Yep. Green shirts are losin' their minds over this guy, like I said. Crazy bastard burned down a cabin the other night. Buncha people died."

"Holy shit. Some preacher."

"Yeah, I know, right?"

"He some kinda fundamental terrorist?"

"I don't think so. More that he's just crazy. And maybe he's a hitman."

"A hitman preacher. And they say Anereta has gone to shit."

"Yup."

"He really even dresses like a preacher?"

"Black robes with a wide brimmed hat, just like the post says."

"Kinda theatrical, dontcha think?"

"I never paid much mind to fashion."

"No, what I mean is, wouldn't he stuck out? He's gotta be hidin' outside of town. Especially if he attacked some cabin… by himself? He's doin' this by himself?"

"They've already been combin' the woods, ain't found shit. And, yeah, he does all this shit himself."

"How?"

"Beats 'em up."

Anya stared at him.

"I'm deadass. Beats the shit outta 'em. Some kinda king-fu monk."

"You gotta be shittin' me."

"I said I was deadass."

She finished her meal and paid up, leaving the customary big tip you give when you want the server to give you a big tip on a job. Heading back to the inn, she wondered how the fuck the goddamn "Marauders" were going to tackle something so heavy.

They were gonna have to.

This journey was going to be expensive.

When she got back into the hotel room she found both her companions stretched out on both beds. She had resigned herself to the floor earlier in the day, and didn't bring it up. She instead asked how they were holding up, and got mixed responses. Kevin was insisting he wasn't in pain at all, and Qiáng wanted to know how far they were traveling.

"We have to get to Bermuda first," Kevin said.

Qiáng gawked at him, and Anya shrugged, saying, "I'm guessin' that's a city or town."

"It's maybe, god, over a thousand miles," Qiáng said.

"...I'm… I'm undoin' the six months I traveled when leaving the war…?" Anya's voice barely even crawled out of her mouth.

"The game world is about as long as Japan…," and Qiáng was holding her head.

Kevin sat up. "We've been walking for two weeks. I've also been doing this for a solid month. We can totally make it. We have the pace."

Anya ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know about this." She hadn't meant to say that out loud, and now the other two were staring right at her.

Fuck.

"Qiáng, you have a limp, right?"

She massaged her hurt knee. "I can manage." She asked herself what in fact she was managing, or why. She spent the last two weeks not thinking about what went down saving Kevin. Her whole rebuilt life was gone. And now she was with two strangers, going to goddamn Bermuda, a frozen hell hole outside the SoCo. Great. "I'm not a paper tiger." Again, what she was thinking wasn't coming out of her mouth. It was like there were two people in her head.

Actually, it reminded her a bit of being attracted to someone. You just start doing and saying things in order to chase a feeling. Except this was a different feeling. This wasn't pleasant at all.

It felt more like shame was her motivation. A deep shame that, though much different from love, was just as powerful, just as manipulative. And it wouldn't go away until this shit was done and dusted.

"I can keep up," Qiáng said.

Anya was looking at her, exasperated. "You seem more like a city person."

"I used to go hiking."

"This isn't hiking. This is long distance traveling where we are going to have to fight people and things. And don't say we aren't. It's going to happen. I don't think we can avoid it. Plus, maybe the greens."

"I'm not afraid of the greens."

"Neither am I!" Kevin was defiant.

"Whatever," Anya said, "We're gonna need money either way. A lot. But, today I did find a job that pays gold."

"You did?" Qiáng was generally curious.

"I can do healing," Kevin added.

"We need a lotta money quick," and Anya waved a hand at him. "We just gotta find and tie up some guy."

Qiáng and Kevin looked at each other then back at Anya. "Some guy?" Qiáng asked.

"Ooh, they delivered a pitcher of water to us?" Anya started to pour some into a cup.

Qiáng got up and hobbled over to Anya. "What guy?"

"Some preacher dude," Anya said into her cup and looked away.

"Some… preacher dude?"

"He's been causing problems all over town. Hurt some people. The cops want him brought in."

"You took a job for the fucking filth?!"

"Jesus, language."

Qiáng flopped back onto her bed.

"Look, if we find this preacher dude, we just tie him up, and drop him off. We get a bounty, and we move on. I had to buy you both boots, by the way. Y'all can't travel in them shoes ya got."

"Why did you buy me boots? I already had boots, Anya." Kevin seemed generally perplexed.

"But… but, ya… why the hell weren't ya wearin' them?"

"...it's hot out…"

"Put ya fuckin' boots on, kid! No, not right now, we're about to fuckin' sleep!"

"Language, please," Qiáng said.

"Oh, screw you two! Ya both just slept all day, I went out 'n got shit done!"

"You went and grabbed a job for the pigs."

"We're gonna need the money if we're travelin' that far!" There was a voice in Anya's head that asked if they were really going to go that far. She ignored it.

Qiáng sighed. "I'm guessing the preacher is dangerous."

"They didn't say anything about him killin' anyone."

"Well now, that's a relief."

"He's not even armed! He's like a monk or somethin'."

"Anya, if it's bad enough that they hired someone to catch him, it can't be easy."

"...we're not hired."

"Fucking what."

"The notice couldn't be taken down and claimed. It's just up there for people to see."

"...so, we have competition."

"Actually… no."

Qiáng started to get up again, winced, and sat back down. "Okay. Okay. Are you saying that nobody wants to try this?"

"...there's no other work. This is it. That's all they got."

Qiáng pulled her comforter over herself, turning on her side and facing away. After a long moment, "I'll ask around tomorrow morning."

"...quick question."

"Now what?"

"How tight are your builds? I've seen you both in action, but I don't know what you're entirely bringin'."

No response from either.

"...guys, c'mon, don't be like this…."

Qiáng was now staring up at the ceiling in concentration. "My… build?"

"I think she means your character," Kevin helped. "I, um, just picked a bunch of healing stuff because I didn't want to be left out when playing with friends. Nobody ever wants to be the healer, so I played healer."

"I don't know what that means. Any of it," Qiáng said.

"You… you can't be serious," Anya said.

"I don't understand your frustration."

"You merked a dude in front of me and you don't understand my confusion."

"Are you talking about the video game powers?"

A pause.

"Yes, Qiáng, I'm tryin' to understand your video game powers."

"I told you I was a sorceress and enchanter already."

"That's all you've told me."

"What else is there to tell?"

"I'm a healer!" Kevin was still trying to help.

Anya rubbed her temples. "Okay, look, just, how far did either of you get in the main story?"

Another pause.

"I couldn't always get anyone to play with me," Kevin said. "Plus, I needed an adult in order to log in. I couldn't always do it. I didn't do many of the dungeons."

Anya patted Kevin's knee. "You told me that already, sweetheart."

Qiáng looked generally confused. "What story?"

"I'm sorry, fuckin' what," Anya said.

"How does a game have a story." Qiáng spread her hands helplessly. "A game is something you play. You don't play a story.

"Why are you both staring at me like that?"

"How… how old are you, Qiáng? Are you like… fifty or something…?"

"... What? I'm twenty-five…?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" Anya pointed at Qiáng. "How the fuck did you happen?!"

"Anya, what is the problem? Games, or more like gimmicky attractions, aren't books or movies. What story? Games can have stories? I just came here to hike on my time off."

"Hike…?"

"Yes! I used to hike when I lived somewhere else! That one dumb park in this city isn't the same! I don't own my own car, and I didn't want to ride with anyone to a better hiking spot. I like to do it alone. I don't care how dangerous that is! This… game, or whatever it is, was a poor substitute, but it was better than nothing! I told you all this already!"

"...that's seriously all you ever logged on for?"

"It certainly wasn't for the story!"

"...how, how did you even get to your level if you haven't done any of the story quests?"

"You're talking about the number next to my name on that menu, right? The one that lets you unlock 'skills' or whatever?"

"Yeah."

"It went up higher and higher at my… in a previous life."

Anya took a step back. "Oh, uh, I see. Let's… let's just move on."

PKs. Jesus Christ. Qiáng must have racked up a ton of PKs. And, if she only hiked before, without doing any sort of leveling, that meant that it was done after the terrorist incident occured.

PKs.

Player Kills.

Qiáng was currently max level.

Anya mumbled something about getting up early tomorrow, and went about prepping her bedroll on the floor. As she tried to sleep, she wondered what was better: learning one new thing about Qiáng per day, or just doing it all in one shot and getting it done with?

===+++===

The three of them split up.

Kevin stayed in the inn, offering healing and salves. The other two took a walk, trying to dig up info on the priest.

Anya mostly hit up the bars and taverns, and Qiáng took a different approach. She parted with Anya after chatting up some of the local laborers at one of the bars, and then went to a small café, which was packed with middle managers, many of whom were the bosses of those labroers. She played up being on a business trip, and found chairs being pulled out for her at one table of managers. She asked them this and that, and about how bad the crime was. When she walked out an hour later, she was concerned. There were a lot of stims being sold here. Many of the managers said they were having problems finding sober workers. First, that meant they were overworking their employees (to the point where they were too damn tired half the time), two, any crime was probably going to be connected to something big and organized. Fantastic. As long as nobody recognized the Silent Gardener, she'd be fine.

She looked for the nearest place with a pool table, and began asking where someone could score. When she figured that out, she went to those bars and asked around about the priest. She was mostly taking a long shot, and she hoped like hell this wouldn't give her anything. If she was partially right, it would mean a world of trouble.

A while later the sun was starting to dip low, so she gave Anya a call.

"I don't like this."

"You call me up and that's the first thing you say."

"Let me ask you first, have you found anything?"

"Nobody's really talkin'."

"Well, I have. We're looking for a black man…"

"Jesus, Qiáng, you shouldn't describe people…"

"Don't cut me off."

"I mean, the flier states his race… wait, did I forget to tell you he was…? I think I did…"

"Anya, shut up a second. I was going to say that's how he was described to me, race first. Usually, that doesn't mean anything, but these were connected places. I don't think the cops put that job up."

"They did though. What does him being black have to do with anything?"

"Gangs in multicultural areas split up by race. Like in prison. Your skin is your team. Everyone is wondering why a black man is fighting here. That's the way they're putting it, and that's why I'm getting worried."

"...what?

"... oh, fuck…"

"Yes. Are you sure the greens put that job up?"

"Yeah, it's a standard bounty."

"There's a stim trade going on here. I don't know if this priest is a hitter for someone. Neither does anyone else, but everyone is speculating the priest is a pro, and he's part of an offensive against the local syndicate here. That's the vibe I'm getting. It's what the little foot soldiers are saying to each other."

"Dressin' up like a priest and beatin' people to death has got to be the single most dumbfuck thing I've ever heard of."

"I'm going to see if I can dig into the stim angle. Maybe find out where this guy is going to hit next."

"That puts us jumpin' into the middle of a deal or somethin'. Hell no."

"It's all I got. I'm going to see if I can find someone who's a dealer who'll talk to someone without references, which is going to be a pain in the ass and might not turn up much. But it sounds like this guy is hitting people connected to the stim trade. Do me a favor, and go ask the greens about the victims."

"You want me to go talk to the cops?"

"Yeah, you're white."

"I'm trans."

"They don't know that."

"...goddamnit, fine. I'll call if I find anything. You talk to Kevin at all?"

"I sent a message a little while ago. He said he's fine. He's asking anyone who comes to him for healing."

"Heh, maybe he'll get the best clue. One of the priest's victims comes to Kevin for healin' or somethin'"

"Hey, weirder things have happened." Qiáng chuckled.

===+++===

Kevin was mixing the salve as fast as he could. "Geez, mister, your hands are completely torn up! You have to watch it! This looks like you let it go for a while!"

The monk chuckled. "I've been havin' issues gettin' decent help. People can look most unkindly on those who are different."

"Well, hold on a bit longer! You're lucky I had what I needed to make this! Here, drink this potion. It helps a little bit."

"Do they really? I thought those video game rules didn't apply so good anymore."

"Well, they don't do the best, but they can help. It'll make it hurt less, at least."

"Well, doctor's orders." The monk drank the potion, wishing he could pinch his nose, but Kevin was still working on his other hand. "Cack! Ugh! What goes into these?"

"Do you really wanna know?"

"...perhaps not.

"Say, will I still be able to fight after you treat me?"

"I would really wish you didn't, but I guess I can't stop you. I think the bandages will hold. But if you keep beating your hands bloody like this you're going to damage your hands permanently." Kevin learned long ago to take charge whenever performing these duties. People tended to think he was much older than he was, that way. If they figured out his age… it probably would be bad. Which he thought was ageist, honestly.

"I'm afraid I will have to. For the Master's tools are ever-busy, ever-working to keep Lucifer's claws at bay."

"...yeah?"

"My child, I can never stop, for it is a shepard's duty to protect the flock from all manners of evils, to hold high the lantern in the darkness and vanquish that blackness. For the flock can be assailed by corruption yet unforeseen, from horrifying tendrils of temptation that would ensnare those ill-prepared for the poison of addiction, no! how first it might seem as sweet as the apple proffered by the serpent to the naïve children of the garden, thus cast out of Eden and left to anguish within a desert of woe!

"But it is not the whole case!"

"...please sit still, I need to wrap your hands…"

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

"For the Lord still listens, and welcomes all prodicals back to the fold! Free will need not be a curse! It is a gift, a spice to enhance our faith! For it is one thing to know the Will of the Lord, but another to have Faith, and those who know are blasphemers who claim to speak for the Lord, who see only in absolutes, and follow only because of their certainty. But blessed are the faithful! They wander into the unknown scared and alone, and it is them who are to be exalted!"

"...are you able to pay me?"

"Those who claim to know the Will can easily falter once their views are slightly damaged! It is then they fall to sin and evil, but! they can be saved! And I shall be there! To bear the torch in the dark, and I will do so even it means forty years of wandering in that cursed blackness!"

Kevin was slowly realizing what was going on. He didn't want to, because it was too stupid. But he was slowly seeing the light.

"How was that kid? A bit much? I'm afraid I'm outta practice. I've been busy."

"...are you a kung-fu priest?"

A hand was extended. "I am the Reverend James Kelley, here in this town to get to the bottom of a scourge… and getting bandaged by you because I don't think it's a good idea to go too far into town for help. The eyes of the serpent are everywhere. How much, anyway?"

Kevin looked down at his spent supplies. "I dunno."

"Wait, really kid? Come now," and the Reverend shook a coin purse, "I do have money. Ill-gotten, you could say, but it was ill-gotten to begin with."

"...I think there's a bounty on your head."

"I wouldn't be surprised.

"Why, kiddo?"

"Um…

"Myrfriendswellmybodyguardstookthebountybutnowyou'reheresoIdunnowhattodo."

"Ah." The Reverend nodded. "That would put us in a bad spot." He opened the coin purse, and started putting gold on the table.

Kevin gawked. "But, mister!"

"Reverend, please," and he smiled.

That's when the door to the inn kicked in. The place was set up like an old saloon; the first floor was an open area, where there were various tables placed about, a small stage and piano in the corner, and a bar to the side, next to some stairs that led to the rooms for rent. Most of the patrons were minding their own business, but when they saw who walked in, they all stood up and began to leave quickly, giving the approaching four men a wide berth.

"Apparently I didn't hide myself well enough," said the Reverend. "Oh well. Here kid," and he tossed Kevin the coin purse, "Hold onto that for me."

"Wait, what?!"

The Reverend James Kelley stood up, tall and lean in his robes, and took stock of the four men approaching him.

One of the men pointed. "There he is! That's the black that attacked the cabin!"

The Reverend put his hands up. "Now, now, gentlemen, is that really the way to describe a servant of the Lord? Though I cannot say I'm too surprised to be described as such, by whom I assume are Vito's men."

The four of them stood shoulder to shoulder, looking nearly identical with slick hair and fancy clothes; everything they wore looked tailored, down to the leather shoes. It wasn't so much high-end armor but light armor vests made to blend in with their well tailored clothes. One of them was wearing a pretty nice dress shirt and slacks, two others had what could only be described as athletic wear, like track suits, and the last had an actual black and gray pinstriped single-breasted suit on.

The Reverend made a motion across them with one hand. "You boys and your awful stimulants. Oh, how the poor of this community are worked and worked to death!

"They carry the dreams of liberation!

"Of pulling themselves up by their own bootstraps!

"But all the jobs here are run by crooked men, who keep the wages down but the prices high! And all the community is forced into your endless cycle of consumption! They must work these obscene hours for barely enough to eat, and for what?

"Your profits! But your profits are only of a vain hope, of the material world!

"While you starve out these hungry people you starve out your very own souls! Selling them the stims they use to stay awake and work! You feast on their desperation!

"But the more you consume, can't you see? The hungrier you become! Do you not wish for satisfaction? Do you not think as you dawn your fancy dress that you still hunger? That your spirit, your immortal soul yearns for true fulfillment?

"Can you not see the waiting arms of the Lord, beckoning you forth? For He forgives all, and will not turn away those who wish to return to the flock! He always forgives, even those who killed His only Son!

"However…

"If you wish to remain in sin, in the darkness…"

The Reverend smiled.

"I can show you how deep the valley of shadows goes."

The four gangsters blinked. "Jesus, Dom was right. Right outta a comic book."

"Please don't blaspheme."

One of them stepped forward. "Listen, asshole! Everyone's tired of your shit! Ain't nobody in town that's got ya back! Ya can't just wanda in here and start fuckin' people bigger'n ya!"

"My brother, isn't that precisely who you are supposed to challenge? Barring the Lord, of course." The Reverend pushed his glasses up his nose. "Vito's cronies are all running a racket when it comes to the manufacturing in this town. You put the squeeze on anyone wandering in desperation nearby, saying that this is a safe place to live, no banditry, and that there are jobs. But these wages?" He made a tutting sound. "And you sell these products you make so high down in the SoCo. And no one within fifty miles has any choice but to play ball with you. You then sell them the very stims they use to stay awake during these longer and longer shifts. My brother man, I cannot allow this to continue." The Reverend widened his stance, and held up his hands. His palms were out, and his fingers were bent like claws.

The goon in the suit looked disgusted. "You really think you can take us in by yourself?"

The Reverend smiled. "Never underestimate the Master's tools."

The four rushed at the Reverend, while outside, Anya was wondering why there was a group of people hanging around in front of the inn. With a sigh, she pulled up her wrist and called Qiáng.

"What's up, Vicars?"

"There's a group of people hangin' out outside the inn."

"Did something happen?"

"I was gonna ask you, but you're obviously not there yet."

"I'm just down the block, just turned the corner actually… oh, wow, there's a crowd."

"Figures it's our hotel. You see me?"

"I think I see you waving. Anyway, you find out anything?"

"I think you're right about the race angle. Cops put the flier up, the priest's race is there because it's standard operating procedure. But once you start asking people face to face they can't stop mentioning he's black, which somehow equates to him not being from around here."

"No strong black gangs in this town. There's no strong gang outside whoever is running the stims, and they look mostly white."

"I guess so. Lotta talk about those stims."

"Yup. Anyway, I went cruising for work some more. I feel like almost every bar is connected."

"... I don't follow? Like, they all got the same owner?"

"No, like these are places owned by guys who are connected."

"Aw, fuck. Like… what do they say in mob movies, 'made' men?"

"...I'll just say yes, because I don't have time to even begin to explain how it works. But I think everyone is paying upwards, and is allowed to operate as long as they let certain people have special privileges. Forgiving tabs, for starters."

"Ah, so there's a chance that a lot of guys who run bars here can have information? Because they're bought out?"

"Eh, sorta. This town really isn't that big, and this is one of only… three? I think? inns in town. There's like four bars, too. That's what has me freaked out. It's easier to be a big fish in a small pond than to try and take over a big city. I think this town is someone's personal playground, where they can do whatever they want and no one can talk back."

"A lot of shack houses here, I noticed."

"Yeah, and everything is really expensive here."

"Hey, hold on a minute."

"What's up?"

"You think the guy that runs our inn is connected…?"

They both then exclaimed, "Jesus Christ!"

The two women could see each other rather clearly now, with each walking from opposite sides of the street. Between them, a man smashed through one of the windows of the inn, landing on the ground in a shower of glass. Anya and Qiáng lowered their wrists, shocked.

Another man stumbled back out of the front door of the inn, clutching his face with one hand. Blood was pouring from between his fingers, and he was flailing around wildly with a knife. After a few seconds, another two men backed out the door, looking scared shitless. They didn't pay attention to the groaning man laying in the glass.

The Reverend was out last, massaging his bandaged knuckles. A gasp of awe went up through the crowd, and that reaction made both Qiáng and Anya look around confused. The crowd's reaction was like watching someone anticipated walk out on a stage. They formed a circle around the confrontation, chattering excitedly.

The Reverend threw his hands out, and the crowd quieted down immediately. "Ah, it is so lovely to see you all outside on this beautiful day!" It actually was quite pleasant out. Sunny skies, just a touch of clouds, the sky a lovely shade of blue. "It's such a shame that our interaction has come to this. And after I just received treatment." He rubbed at his bandages. "I say, gentlemen, did you really have to trouble me on such a lovely day? Couldn't you all just stayed home and beat the hell outta each other?"

A laugh rippled through the crowd. After it was over, you could clearly hear Anya say, "What the fuck?"

The three beat up men managed to collect themselves and square up. The Reverend smiled, and reset his stance.

"NO!"

Everyone, even the preacher, was taken off guard by the sudden outburst. At first, nobody could place where it came from, mostly because the pink-haired catgirl who screamed it was so tiny. The Reverend had a hard time believing such a loud (and shrill) noise could come such a tiny person.

That was, until she kept screaming. "NO, NO, NO, NOOOOO! GET AWAY YOU GODDAMN BOUNTY HUNTERS! YOU FUCKS! THAT'S MY MONEY YOU COCKS! MY MONEY! DON'T YOU FUCK WITH MY MONEY!"

Anyone with any sense was started running from the scene, which had obviously become completely out of hand. There were still plenty of people without any sense.

Anya ran at the first man, jumping. She planted one foot on his knee, and from there she propelled herself forward, now wielding her heater shield. She smashed it into the man's face, sending a spray of blood in all directions as he fell down. A decent amount got in the eyes of the man with the suit, who tried to screech, "What the fuck?!" but Anya kicked him in the crotch hard enough for him to vomit onto the man Anya bloodied with her shield.

Kevin walked out of the inn, looking horrified and shaking. The final man still standing pointed his knife at Anya, and tried to say something, but all that came out was some incoherent warbling. Kevin watched Anya draw her arming sword, and now felt like he was going to pass out. They just got to this town, and everything was going insane. Was she even allowed to kill this man? Was she crazy enough to do it, in the middle of the street?

But that's when the cool headed Qiáng sprinted into view from the right. Kevin breathed a sigh of relief.

And then he remembered how she had treated him when they first met.

He shouldn't have been surprised when she pulled a knife and put it to the final man's throat. "Get the fuck outta the way! I need to buy pants!"

Kevin squatted on the ground, rubbing his temples.

Qiáng started babbling something about ticks, and the Reverend raised his hands again. "Ladies, I thank you, but I think it's time to go." He bowed, and ran off towards an alley.

What little of the crowd was there began clapping. Anya's face was screwed up in confusion, and Qiáng threw her hostage to the ground and yelled, "Let's go!" She plunged into the alley, which snapped Anya out of it; she followed. After a second, Kevin cast haste and chased after them.

The alleys were full of trash, which the Reverend jumped and flipped over as he moved. Anya swore she saw the man actually run on the walls for a moment. She just slashed at anything in her way, sending it flying all over. Behind her, Qiáng pulled out two wands and blasted whatever was left away. Kevin jogged easily behind them, the path clear.

The Reverend jumped and did a three-hundred and sixty degree spin over a trash can, letting him get a view of his pursuers. They were much closer than he anticipated. He veered left down an alley.

Anya tripped and fell trying to go after him, and as she tried to get up, she was collected by Qiáng, sending them both to the ground. Qiáng was left staring at the tip of Anya's sword, which was pointed at her eye. She gulped. When they both untangled from each other and stood, Qiáng checked her whole body for extra holes. That's when Kevin slammed into them, sending them all back to the ground, though Anya dropped her sword that time.

After they all stood up and untangled themselves again, Anya pointed at a blackened building. "I think the bastard went in there."

The burned out husk stood two floors high, and looked a bit like a house. The porch seemed like it was going to collapse, leaning forward and away, the awning above dipping low like a hat-brim pulled over someone's tired eyes. At some point, there must have been white paint on this house, but now it flaked off in huge curling strips. The front door was gone, smashed in long ago, and with the empty frame being in between two yellowed windows, it looked like a gap punched into a decaying smile.

Qiáng said, "Are you sure?

"I don't want you to be sure."

"What is your deal? You're only a badass when you're fucking with a kid?"

"Wasn't there a house like this in It?"

"Huh?"

"The Stephen King book."

"I watched the movie. And it was a black house. And don't be a bitch. C'mon." What a touchy badass, she thought to herself.

Qiáng looked down at her expensive brogues. "Goddamnit," she said, and followed Anya.

"I'll stay out here!" Kevin called after them.

One of the stairs collapsed as Anya mounted them, sending out a loud crack. Qiáng rolled her eyes, and then accidently pulled the bannister free. The two of them didn't look at each other the rest of the way in.

The front door gave way to a large hall. Across from them was a wide stairway which split into two balconies on the second floor, one that went left, and the other went right. There wasn't a chandelier overhead, there wasn't anything there. Maybe it had been removed, but maybe it was never there. Instead, you could see the remains of some sort of painting. It looked like angels flying around, playing horns of some kind, but the artwork was severely decayed. There were standing candelabras all over the place, all empty for a long time. Off to the right, you could see long tables set up with stools; a cafeteria. To the left, Qiáng could swear it was some kind of common area.

"What a mansion," Anya quipped.

"It's not a mansion," Qiáng said.

Above them, on the stairs, the Reverend called down, "Correct!"

Anya went into her fighting stance, her sword touching the side of her shield, and Qiáng pointed two wands up at her prey.

The Reverend tutted at them. "Ladies, unless something has changed, I'm sure you're supposed to take me alive."

The two women looked at each other.

Anya shook her head. "Not yet."

"Agreed."

They kept their weapons up.

The Reverend laughed. "My my, I didn't know I was both so intimidating and nefarious."

"You're the talk of the town," Anya growled. "The cops are sick of your shit."

"You've been making a lot of powerful people very upset," Qiáng said in a cool voice.

The Reverend looked up at the painting on the ceiling. "You don't know what this place used to be?"

Any spat, "Why the hell would we?"

"Was it some kind of dorm?" Qiáng's face looked slightly wistful. The Reverend turned his attention to her. He looked interested, and cocked his head with a slight grin.

"No. An orphanage," Qiáng said.

Anya shot Qiáng a look. "So what?"

"Instead of asking, 'So what,' maybe you should ask where all the children have gone," the Reverend said. "Or the sisters who ran this place." He stroked the wall lightly with his fingers, looking back at the ceiling again. "There aren't many nuns in a video game. I doubt many of them play. But I heard a rumor of one, a few years ago, who came in here with her little grand-niece and the girl's family. The whole family got trapped, and I do not know the fate of them, but I've heard tale of what the nun did." He moved an arm slowly, as if he were showing off the whole hall. "She worked with children in her younger years, before essentially retiring to lighter duties at a convent." One of the angels on the ceiling was missing its face, there only being a blackened hole now, and it was playing some kind of harp. Others there were shot up, by pistol, spell, and arrows; there were even a few kunai stuck in the chest of a peeling Christ. "She tried to get something running again, despite being so old. It seems to have at least had a start." He brought his eyes back on his hunters again. "She died around two years ago, and it seems what we stand in is all that's left."

"So, what happened to the children?" Anya retorted sarcastically.

The Reverend shrugged. "I've seen my fare share of the dead, though I like to think more positively. Places in better repair might continue the legacy left here."

"Tch." Anya kept looking around the room. This was obviously a trap. The only question was wondering what this guy was up to.

"I'm not sure why you're talking about this," Qiáng said, trying to aim at the Reverend's knees.

"This building is to be demolished," the Reverend continued. "It was bought by a local syndicate and everyone here was evicted. There are other homes, I suppose, though I can't vouch for their hospitality. Interestingly, when the building was bought, there was a clause in the deal that it would be preserved in some fashion. Oh, I forgot to mention–the fire started before everyone was evicted, and this place condemned. But after it was bought." The Reverend shrugged again.

Anya's face was saying, "What the fuck?" without saying a word. Qiáng was trying to keep her aim steady. But neither of them moved.

"These things happen I suppose. Besides, industry is king. It will bolster the community right? Even if there isn't a decent school set up in this town, merely a sad excuse of one, enough to keep any inspectors quiet. Not like many come up here, anyway. And even if the community is slowly being starved out and worked to death by a greedy syndicate."

"And, what, yours is better?" Anya sneered. "Admit it. You're a professional. You're clearly in the business."

"Who do you work for?" Qiáng was aiming at his head, now.

The Reverend smiled, and tugged at his robes. "I thought that was rather obvious." He then stamped his foot down, which sent the wood planks of the stairs upwards. Before either woman could react, the Reverend threw a flurry of punches, which propelled them towards his hunters.

Qiáng and Anya backed up; Anya slashed and batted the wood away with her sword and shield, and Qiáng frantically shot at them while running towards the common room to the left. Anya stood her ground readying herself, but saw too late that a huge amount of dust was kicked up by the Reverend's attack. Before she knew it, he burst out of the dust, having jumped ludicrously high. The Reverend's hands were stretched out to the sides, and his legs were drawn up. Realizing this guy weighed far more than her, Anya rolled out of the way. She barely avoided him; when he landed, he brought his knee down, and the amount of force smashed a hole into the floor. Before she could ready herself, he was on her, grabbing her shield and throwing her arm aside. She quickly slashed upwards at him, and he backed off, grabbing one of the candelabras. In a quick movement, he trust it at her face, and Anya staggered back, almost not avoiding the blow.

The Reverend kept up the pressure, stabbing at her like the candelabra was a polearm. She didn't even try to use the sword much; the goddamn thing looked like it was made out of heavy iron, so she used her heater shield as much as she could. He kept going at the top of the shield, and she knew what he was trying to do; if you blocked wrong, by not squaring your arm up right, and the enemy hits the top of your shield, what happens is your shield would deflect the blow right into your face. Your shield just becomes a ramp up to your throat or eyeballs. She didn't know if being so short was helping her block these attacks or not.

The Reverend started throwing overhead strikes during his assault, and Anya's arm was getting tired. The man was relentless; she needed to take a chance and charge this guy. Just catch the candelabra overhead and run in.

Wait for it.

Let him keep swinging…

Wait…

Now!

She swiped the Reverend's attack away, and keeping the candelabra balanced on her shield, ran in…

The karate front kick blasted her off her feet and right on her ass. She hadn't even seen it coming, the bastard had been that quick. How? How did he…?

Aw, fuck, the Ki system!

Goddamn monks had an energy meter, and he spent it kicking her chest in!

The Reverend raised the candelabra over his head, his face wearing pity, which pissed her off. Fuck this guy!

But he dropped the weapon and rolled back as Qiáng started firing her wands akmibo. She had no decorum, or discipline, but her shots were barely missing. She was clearly infuriated she was missing, but the Reverend looked freaked out as he rolled back to the stairs. Qiáng sprinted after him; her range was ten yards. She couldn't miss under ten yards.

The Reverend jumped up onto the stairs, and roundhouse kicked the bannister, sending sections of it at Qiáng. Her eyes went extra wide as she watched the pieces of wood fly at her.

She rolled forward and under the attack, but when she readied her wands again the Revenered on her, swiping at her with his clawed fingers. Qiáng dropped the wands, and, after realizing she wouldn't have gotten the knife out in time, threw a few jabs at him. He blocked them easily, and he smirked. "Kickboxing, eh?" She didn't say anything, and tried to roundhouse kick his ribs. He backstepped it, and thrust at her face with one of his claw attacks. She didn't know what the hell this guy was doing; when she blocked it, it felt like he'd slashed her. She kept jabbing, and nothing landed. He laughed at her. "Is it even kickboxing? Do you even train? Or did you throw a few kicks once and figured you got it?"

She ignored him. Let him run out of breath, the idiot. Except… that wasn't happening. He kept up the pressure, and she was getting fewer and fewer retaliations. Anya picked herself up off the floor, watching Qiáng, standing up straight and stiff, trying to hold her own against the priest, who was flowing around her the way a stream would a rock. Grunting, she sheathed her sword but kept her shield out, and charged the priest.

He backpedaled away from her charge, but was hit in the chest when she threw her shield at him. Anya ran up and grabbed his arm, pushing him down while sweeping a leg behind his. This pushed the Reverend down, but he struck her in the knee, which made her buckle. Next, he kicked her in the legs, wrapping her up and taking her down. She tried to crawl on top of him, and tried to beat him in the head with her gauntleted hands. But he lanced one of his clawed hands at her face, and she barely pulled back in time. She fell off and away, grabbing at her cheek. She'd been cut.

Picking up her shield, she drew her sword again. Qiáng sidled up next to her.

The Reverend turned and ran to the cafeteria.

"Oh, this fucking asshole!" Anya ran after him, and Qiáng drew two new wands.

As they entered, both of them took a metal tray to the face apiece. The Reverend had picked them up off the tables, and flung them like frisbees. He cocked an eyebrow, and looked at the whole stack he was holding. "Huh. That's it?" He walked as close as he dared to the women laying in the ground, bleeding.

"Oops." The Revered looked out a window. "Sorry, kid."

He knelt next to the two women. Hm. Both still breathing. He shrugged, and dropped the rest of the trays on the floor. "Oh well. I guess I'll see you around, ladies. Granted, if either of you ever wake up." And with that, he put his hands in his sleeves, collected his sleeping bag from the room he'd been living in, and left the building.

===+++===

When her eyes shot open, Anya screamed in a fit of rage and smashed in front of her wildly. It took a few minutes for her to realize that she was now lying in the street outside, and had nearly cut Kevin's head off after he used his smelling salts on her. "It's okay," he said after making sure he hadn't been slashed. "Qiáng almost shot me in the face." And indeed, she was sitting a few feet off, looking meekly at the wands in her hands.

Anya sheathed her sword. "What the fuck happened?"

"He got away," Kevin said.

"Fucking what?!"

"We were both nearly beaten into a coma," Qiáng said.

"The hell we were!"

"Anya, we were smashed in the head very hard. We've been lying here for ten minutes."

Anya was now aware of the awful pain in her forehead. She went to touch it, and Qiáng said, "Don't! Kevin doesn't know if our heads were cracked."

"I don't know if your skulls were cracked," Kevin said weakly.

"Well fuck," Anya spat. "Am I allowed to go to sleep?"

"Um… I don't know," Kevin said.

Anya made a thumbs up. "Let's go back to the inn."

"Might as well," Qiáng said.

Kevin led the way.

Both Anya and Qiáng did wake up the next morning, much to Kevin's relief.

"How the fuck did he cut my face?" Anya said over breakfast. "And how did we afford breakfast this morning?"

"Kevin paid for it," Qiáng said.

Kevin swallowed his toast hard.

"Whatever," Anya said. "We didn't use that much medical supplies this morning, so, it's still a net positive if we collect the reward on this guy."

"Are you sure that's necessary?" Kevin asked.

Anya passed Kevin a list of items they needed. He almost cried as he read it.

Anya scarfed up more of her pancakes. "That guy is nuts." She touched the bandage on her cheek. "I wanna know how he cut my face."

"There was something about his hands," Qiáng said. "It was strange."

"It looked like something outta a bad movie," Anya said.

"Yes. But it still worked."

"He's using game powers, I think. He kicked me once, and it knocked me on my ass. I think monks have a Ki meter or some bullshit."

"A what?"

"I dunno what 'Ki' is actually supposed to be…"

"Are you saying 氣? It's not 'key,' it's more like 'chi.' Like with my name."

"Fucking whatever!"

"That's some bullshit farmers believe. Like that belief rhino horn cures ED."

"Huh?"

"Erectile dysfunction."

Qiáng was met with stares.

"I'm not shitting you," she said. "People hunt rhinos for their horns, and try to make folk medicines out of it. I think it's because a rhino's horn is… well… hard, and curves… upwards…

"Oh, fucking forget it. Just pronounce Ki right, okay!"

"All right, all right. Jesus, lady…"

"It's confusing and… why… what the fuck is a Ki meter?!"

"I'm gettin' to it!"

"I thought it was Japanese…," Kevin mumbled mostly to himself.

"Look, he can spend it to make his blows hit harder," Anya spat. "But you usually use that with active skills. I didn't know you could use it outside of that."

"Maybe he isn't." Qiáng hoped she wasn't asked what active skills were.

"He'd have to be out of his fuckin' mind to do that."

Kevin asked, "Why?"

Anya sighed. "When you attack using a game skill or strike, it always moves at the same speed, in the same way. Every. Single. Time.

"You're super easy to predict, and on top of that, if someone starts shootin' at you, you're fucked. Severely. Usin' them on occasion is maybe okay, but relyin' on that would be suicide."

"The man seems quite deranged," Qiáng said.

"But he's still alive," Anya pointed out. "If he was just usin' skills he'd be dead by now. No, somethin' else is goin' on here."

Qiáng bit at one of her thumbnails. "He moved weird. I'd be the first to say I'm not a hand-to-hand fighter, but even I could tell he was moving strange."

"And hittin' strange." Anya touched her bandage again. She then snapped her fingers. "Maybe he's just good at pickin' where to fight."

Qiáng smiled grimly. "He led us there. He had it worked out. He's less a fighter and more a planner."

"He already knew he could use those candle things like that. Maybe he practiced."

"So, we just have to surprise him.

"Except…"

"Yeah, how the fuck do we do that?"

Kevin refrained from pointing out both of them were dumb enough to follow Reverend Kelley in the first place.

===+++===

Vito wasn't big on his boys getting the shit beat out of them. Especially in front of a crowd, and especially in front of a crowd that cheered when it happened.

He hadn't thought it possible that whacked-out priest could actually start to gain a following, but it was happening. Maybe even for a while, now. On top of that, there were people fighting alongside the priest.

He was gaining more and more influence in the town. Vito couldn't let this happen; he was looking to expand his stim business soon, and nobody would want to deal with him if this preacher was running around. Hell, people wouldn't even want to buy the legal stuff soon. The green shirts here were getting antsy; for now, they were willing to say publicly that the six factories in town weren't connected to Vito. Or the garbage disposal. Or the construction company, the only construction firm in town. He was saving up to start mining the hills nearby, and maybe even start logging; they had to clear out the forest before they could cut into the ground, so, why not sell it? That'd be a waste of money if he just destroyed it. No, everything here could be used to kick profits back up to him. Hell, a whole bunch of his worker's wages were spent on his stims! He always got most of the money back! Plus, collecting protection money from every business in town, the mayor willing to play ball, and no one was whining about the housing conditions! Everything kicked up to him, as it should.

And then, the goddamn priest showed up. Not just beating his men down, no, he'd even killed a few of them. Some priest. He didn't know what outfit this clown was with, but Vito would find out when he captured and pulled that info outta him–along with this fuckin' guy's teeth.

And anyone helpin' that sunuvabitch?

Well, those two would find out soon enough. Did those two bitches really think he was that stupid? That they could just go right back to that inn, after beatin' the shit outta his boys, and that the owner wouldn't report on them again? How stupid did they have to be?! How insulting! They were insulting him! They beat the shit outta his men, and then went right back to their room?! Well, they'd see what happened when you insult Vito!

This ranting speech was still ringing in the heads of the mob of gangsters surrounding the inn the Marauders were staying at.

===+++===

Qiáng felt up to walk around town about noon. Anya still felt woozy, so Kevin was going to look after her for a bit. Qiáng's footsteps echoed loudly as she went down the stairs, and this made her stop halfway down.

It was lunchtime.

Nobody was at any of the tables.

She slowly looked around the saloon area, taking a step back up the stairs. Her footsteps were the only noise. There wasn't even a bird cawing.

Her hands snaked inside her cloak.

A voice traveled through the still-broken window, "Please! Please, don't damage anything in there!"

She aimed two of her pistol-grip wands at the front door.

"Anya! Getcha kit on!"

The front door was kicked in, and Qiáng opened fire. The lightning strikes ripped up the men running in, as well as the wall and several tables, sending splintered wood everywhere. The men she shot screamed, the holes in them smoking and slightly on fire. A haze now covered the room.

She barely caught the silhouettes of men rising up in the windows, holding both staves and lever-action rifles, as well as men reaching wands and even a few dragoon pistols around the corners of the doorframe. They all opened fire at once, spraying bullets and fire towards her.

She slipped on the stairs, flailing backwards, so she was half-leaning over the rail. Unable to balance, she slid forwards, her back riding along the railing. She started running down stairs as this happened, and using the railing to steady herself, returned fire with both hands.

One man's eyes popped in his head, his tongue swollen purple and bloody. Another man caught completely on fire, falling onto the man next to him. Another was blasted off his feet, spraying blood out of his mouth. Some of the others ducked down, but a few kept shooting.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Qiáng leaped off to her right, sliding off a table and onto the floor. She kicked the table over onto its side, more as concealment than cover. She started crawling forward on her belly, looking for a side exit.

Anya told Kevin to stay in the room, and ran out to the stairs. "Qiáng!" She scanned the room, trying to find her, but only saw a fuck load of weapons point right at her.

Swearing, she dived prone as they fired. The wall above her head rained debris onto her and she started to crawl back towards Kevin, screaming at him to get down. He peeked his head out the door of the room, which almost made her go into a rage, but then he tossed Qiáng's rose staff to her.

It skidded on the ground, and she grabbed it up, leaning over the balcony and trying to remember how to shoot one of those things. After a out a second, a flurry of lightning strikes blasted out of it, tearing up up the front of the inn. She landed a few hits, but the shots didn't look as fatal. At least, none of her shots sprayed the same amount of blood and viscera all over the saloon. Seriously, the front of the inn looked like a dirty butcher's block with the amount of meat and blood coating the floor, walls, and even the ceiling.

The enemy raised back up and started firing again, but none of the shots hit over Anya's head. She was confused, until she heard the balcony under her begin to creak, and felt it shake and buckle. She got up to run back to the horrified Kevin, but the balcony started to give way. Without thinking, she jumped down to the first floor, rolling to try and be safe. No matter what, she was going down; it was better to try and control the fall.

The staff wasn't so lucky. It snapped somewhere, so when she brought it up to return fire, nothing happened. Before she knew it, a wand was dropped in front of her, and Qiáng was standing overhead, firing wands akimbo at the front of the building. One man's neck had a wedge shape blasted into it, and as he fell back, his dragoon pistol fired, hitting the man next to him; the whole top of his head blasted off, the scalp looking like a small animal jumping away from a geyser of blood. His face was drawn upwards and taut like a sheet pulled tight, eyes, nose, and mouth gushing blood as he fell back. His compatriots hid again.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Qiáng!"

Qiáng flipped a few tables over to hide them. "Where's Kevin?"

"Still in the room, and the balcony collapsed."

"Are you hit?"

"I don't think so. My adrenaline is goin', though. Um," she pointed at the broken rose staff. "I broke it."

"That's the fourth one I've made, don't worry about it."

"Goddamn."

"Kevin!" Qiáng yelled back up to the room. "There are some staves in my pack! Try and get out!"

"I can't leave you!"

"Fucking do it!"

"But…!" There was a sudden smash of glass. "They have a ladder!"

"Kevin!"

"They're here! Help…!" There was the sound of gunfire, and smoke poured out the door.

Anya roared in rage, drawing her heater shield in one hand and the wand in another. She ran at a window that opened to the back alley, and smashed it with the shield. There was a few men back there, and she stuck the wand into one of their faces and fired. His whole head caught on fire, and nothing was left of his face. Behind her, Qiáng soared out, firing at several men in the opposite direction. Anya put her shield back, and hopped out as well, holding the wand in a Weaver stance. She crouched and fired at some retreating men, missing them but still driving them back. Qiáng jumped back up, throwing away her spent wands and drawing two more, firing at the men surrounding a ladder that was propped up to their room. Kevin was hanging half off it, a man below him pointing a pistol at him. Qiáng tore into the group of people there, blasting one woman's leg off, liquidating another man's arm from the shoulder down. Kevin fell off the ladder, but more of the gangsters were coming, and pushed him away. They started to return fire, and Qiáng stood there, shooting back, throwing away wands as they went empty.

The whole alley was getting splattered with blood. Loops of intestine flew into the air, somehow catching on fire. One man was on his knees, clutching the blackened skeleton of his arm. A woman sat against the wall, looking down at her exposed and smoking ribs. People started to trip over the bodies; it didn't look like there was even a piece of exposed ground.

And they kept coming. Kevin was gone somewhere, and they kept coming.

Anya was in a smaller firefight in the opposite direction, and when her side ducked back around the corner, she looked at the unreal hell Qiáng was unleashing against what must have been wagon-loads of enemies. "We need to run! What the fuck are you doing?!" She saw a window in another building. She shot it to pieces, and grabbed Qiáng's shoulder. "We're fucking surrounded!"

"I need to get him! I can get him back!"

"They're going to start coming from the inn! Qiáng! Now!" She grabbed her, and dragged her to the window. Qiáng reluctantly threw herself inside, and Anya followed. Barely even a second later, both sides of the alley opened fired, shredding each other to pieces.

The remaining Marauders ran.

===+++===

They were camped out under a bridge, to keep out of the rain.

"They have him," Qiáng said.

Anya ran her whetstone down her sword. "I know."

"We need to get him back."

"I know."

"We're supposed to look after him."

"I know."

===+++===

Kevin spat more blood up onto his chest. He felt like he could wiggle half the teeth in his head. He wasn't struggling against his binds or the wooden chair anymore. He was just trying to keep his eyes open.

Vito stood in front of him, his bulk bulging against his undershirt and pinstripe dress pants. His knuckles were bleeding, but he cracked them, held up Kevin's head, and showed him his fist. "Where's the priest and his friends. Your friends."

Kevin kept his mouth shut.

He knew it didn't matter.

===+++===

Nearly everything had been left in that hotel room. So, naturally, they went back at sundown. It was obviously going to be watched, but they didn't care.

They crawled in the same first floor window they jumped out of, and climbed the stairs as high as they could. Anya, being smaller, shimmied along what was left of the balcony to their room, collecting their bags, which surprisingly, were left alone. She tossed them to Qiáng, who made a neat pile on the floor. The noise attracted someone, and as Anya dropped back down to the first floor, the owner shuffled out, looking bleary eyed. Qiáng smiled and strode towards him. She ran a hand through her hair, and when she brought it back around, she was holding a wand, pointing it at him.

"Hello there."

The owner sighed. "I wouldn't do anything stupid. I already called them."

"No point to keeping you alive then," Anya said.

The owner stiffened. "Now, hold on…"

Qiáng asked, "Why?" She touched the wand to his forehead.

He fell to his knees. "Wait! Please!"

"Convenient execution position," Anya said.

"Much obliged," Qiáng said, and the owner felt the tip of the wand grow hot on his skin.

"You can't just kill me! Vito will go crazy, and he's got your friend!"

Anya crossed her arms. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Vito!"

"Don't know him," Qiáng said.

"How?!"

Anya and Qiáng shrugged.

"You took out all his men today! Beat them in front of the inn before that, too!"

"What, erm, who is this guy?" Anya walked forward and flicked the owner's ear. "What is he, some kind of bounty hunter… I don't know leader?"

"You know who he is!"

"I don't think we do, friend," Qiáng said.

"He put the bounty on you and that black guy!"

"Wait… what?"

A new voice jumped in, "Vito has been trying to get the Reverend and anyone who helps him for months now."

Qiáng drew another wand and Anya prepped her sword and shield. A woman walked towards them, her hands up. "I know we haven't met, but I want to help."

Anya was getting angry, "What the hell is goin' on?!"

The woman stopped walking, and spoke slowly and calmly, "We want to stop Vito from taking over this town. The Reverend, he helps us. And we help anyone who helps the Reverend."

Anya and Qiáng exchanged a look.

"Please," the woman pleaded. "I have no doubt he did call Vito's men. We need to leave quickly."

Anya sighed, and looked to Qiáng, who shrugged and kicked the owner in the head, knocking him out. "Fine, fuck it, let's go." She ignored Anya staring at her legs, trying and failing to control herself. She'd never had another woman look at her like that, but she would think about that another time.

They crept through the dark streets, making sure they weren't being followed. Fifteen minutes of stealing themselves through the rainy town landed them in front of a worn down building. "Homeless shelter," Qiáng said after reading a sign out front.

"Fits the M.O," Anya said.

The woman led them around the back, to a set of wooden cellar doors. She opened them, and beckoned the Marauders to go in.

Anya drew her weapons and made to go first. "Good idea," Qiáng said. "That way you can't see my legs."

Anya spun around with a hopeless and scared face.

"Just control yourself, please," Qiáng said. "I'm not mad… yet."

Anya mumbled an apology and started down the stairs.

Look, Qiáng was hot.

Actually… Anya found everyone hot.

Good god, she seriously needed to get laid. She was acting like she just got out of prison.

The basement of the shelter was made up to be a storeroom, with rows and rows of preserved goods on shelves. The smell of all of it was almost as solid as a wall; you didn't walk through it as much as waded through it. It was lit by a few sparse oil lamps, all of which had their flames turned low. The shadows danced in the flickering light, a jittery sway playing on the walls. There was a small area rectangular off to the side clear of shelves, and seated at a table was the Reverend.

And on the table were three wanted posters. One for the Reverend James Kelley. One for Anya Vicars. And one for Chang Gow.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Qiáng muttered.

"Ladies, two things," said the Reverend, "First, please do not take the Lord's name in vain. Second, we seem to be in a predicament."

Anya snapped her finger and pointed at him. "Uh-uh! Nope! No, no, no! You're in a predicament, and you dragged us into it, you asshole!"

"Maybe I can change my hair and pronounce my name Kwi-ang Goo-oh," Qiáng said to herself, biting her thumbnail. "I wonder if that would work…"

"I'm sorry, ladies, but I don't think our gracious hosts here see it that way."

"What the fuck?! What did we do?!"

Qiáng gave Anya a look. "Are you being serious right now?"

Anya looked back and forth between the Reverend and Qiáng for a few moments. "Wait, so… Vito… runs the syndicate…"

Reverend Kelley ignored her, and addressed Qiáng. "Vito has your boy."

"We have you, technically speaking," she retorted.

Anya was counting something on her fingers for some reason. "...and that means… the syndicate…"

The Reverend smirked at her. "Are you looking for a repeat of the other day?"

Qiáng said, "Are you aware of what happened yesterday?"

"...so, the cops… oh! Okay! Wait… no… yeah, hold on… Vito runs things, and the cops…"

"What you did yesterday was disturbing, Guo Qiáng. I didn't have you pegged as someone that destructive."

"That attitude has led to many a person's death."

"I see that. When I asked around, it seemed your name has weight north west of here."

"I'd rather not talk about that."

"...so… Vito wants the Reverend… because he runs the stims! Vito does, not the Reverend. Wait! That means the green shirts are in on it… oh, fuck…,' Anya twirled some of her wavy hand around her finger.

"Well all have our demons, Ms. Guo. Though we all must seek forgiveness."

"Help us get the boy, then."

"Yeah!" Anya pounded a fist on the table. "Stop fuckin' with us!"

The Reverend smiled. "I'm sure there is a solution that benefits…"

The kunai barely grazed his nose. The Reverend stood up, but Anya already had grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Qiáng stood still, shocked. She had no idea where that knife came from at all.

Anya put a knee into the Reverend's back, leaning him onto the table, and started tying his hands together from a bit of rope. It took Qiáng a second, but she finally noticed what Anya had been doing the whole time: untying a sack of potatoes so she could use the rope on the Reverend.

"Whoa," she said.

"I don't like talkin'," Anya spat.

The woman who led them to the basement looked like she was going to scream, and Anya told her to shut up. When she finished tying up the Reverend's hands, she stood him back up and hissed in his ear, "So, Reverend, you think you can get out of that?"

He looked more confused than anything. He moved his hands a bit, then looked at Anya with a questioning glance.

"How about keep it to yourself," she said. "Hey Qiáng," and then she turned the Reverend around so she could see his hands. "Whaddya think?"

Qiáng knew enough about binding a prisoner to see that the rope could come right off easily. She met the Reverend's eyes, who also seemed confused.

Anya looked back and forth between them, and then started nodding her head towards the cellar doors.

The Reverend then nodded slowly, getting it. "Ah… um… Argh! You dare… arrest, a servant of the Lord?!"

"Hell yeah I am! And now I'm goin' to take you directly to Vito, so we're all in the same room, and get Kevin back."

The Reverend and Qiáng exclaimed simultaneously, "What?!"

"Either of you got a better plan?"

Silence.

The Reverend started praying.

So did Qiáng.

Anya turned on the woman. "That's right! You better get the word out we captured your precious Reverend!"

"Do not interfere, Cynthia!" The Reverend kept a soothing voice. "The Lord watches over me! Tell all what you've seen here! Go now! Go!"

Cynthia stared daggers at Anya and Qiáng, and ran off to the shelter proper. Anya let go of the Reverend's arms, saying, "Make sure the rope doesn't come off yet. Where is this Vito guy, anyway?"

"He might be at a restaurant…"

"Might be or is?"

"Most likely at a certain restaurant. It's the weekend, so there should be a show. Also, he has alchemists making stims in the basement. It's where he runs his businesses."

"That's where we're goin' then."

"I don't have enough wands for this," Qiáng said.

"Eh, we'll be fine. We just gotta grab Kevin and get outta town. Maybe collect the bounty on the Reverend. Maybe kill Vito. I dunno."

"Why am I not surprised," the Reverend said.

"Like I said, I'm out a quarter of my wands already," Qiáng said.

"I've got some kunai," Anya said, pulling her knife out of the wall.

"That was you?!"

"Yeah, I ran as a DPS sometimes.

"Yes, I was a part time catgirl ninja."

Qiáng held her forehead, "Jesus Christ."

"Please don't blaspheme," the Reverend said.

"I have, like, three kunai," Anya said.

No one said anything back.

"Fuck you two. Lead the way, padre."

"I'm not a Catholic… whatever, follow me."

As they left, Qiáng whispered into the Reverend's ear, "Thanks for not just calling me Qiáng."

He smiled back. "No problem, Guo Qiáng."

===+++===

Kevin looked up when the door to the room opened. He was trying his best not to pass out; he could feel the bruises on his face, feel the swelling around his eyes.

Someone–he couldn't make out what they looked like–said, "So, your friends are turning on the priest, then. Everyone's sayin' he's been caught. Lucky you. Maybe."

The door shut, and Kevin kept fighting the need to close his eyes. He didn't know if he would get up again. What little of his thought processes were left understood that the beating had been that severe.

===+++===

Anya didn't dare go near the front door of Vito's restaurant until Qiáng found a way into the basement. Qiáng skulked around outside until she found a window she could squeeze through. It wasn't even barred. That's what happened when you could buy out the mayor and the cops: you got confident and you got sloppy. She touched the hinges of the egress window with a wand, melting the metal and letting it open fully. She carefully squeezed herself inside, making sure her wands didn't rattle. Once inside she crouched behind a barrel and took stock of the room. There were all kinds of beakers, flasks and the like, all on tables lined up in neat rows. It was less an alchemy lab, and more a factory. She moved behind some crates, being that there were still some people working, packaging up some kind substance. They all worked in their underwear, which is something she thought they only did in movies. A small workforce of mostly naked people, bottom drawers only, no bras, shuffling about various burners, mortars and pestles, and even a few bubbling cauldrons. Magically powered fans sucked all the smoke into ductwork above, depositing it somewhere outside. Everyone in here had masks over their mouths, and she wrapped a bandana around her face herself.

Carefully, she pulled a large bundle of her wands out her cloak, and placed them on top of the crates. Right above them was one of the fans. She then darted from cover to cover, with another bundle of wands, trying to find another spot.

Outside, Anya waited with the Reverend. He cleared his throat, "I think he will clear the place out of customers, but I still don't feel right about blowing this place up."

"We need the distraction. You're good, but don't get full of yourself."

"We don't know how many of them are in there."

"How many, if you had to guess. You've been here longer."

"There could be thirty or more in there. And your friend is running out of wands."

"We'll manage. We just pop this scumbag and get Kevin outta there."

"Why are you so suddenly keen on Vito's demise?"

"I'm ex-military. Some threats you don't let hang around. They come back."

"Hm. If you say so." They were both standing in an alley, watching the front door. "They could just shoot at us as we approach."

"Break those shitty binds and run, then. Qiáng will blast the basement, and then we storm the place."

"In the midst of a stim haze from the fire."

"Hey, you're standin' here next to me, so don't complain. I ain't keepin' ya here."

"This unfortunately seems to be my best shot at this. And I can't let that boy stay in Vito's hands."

"...he better not have hurt him."

"He most definitely has. Get over it now, instead of getting angry inside."

"Don't tell a soldier how to fight, priest."

Inside, Qiáng placed the second bundle of wands. They didn't look so conspicuous; just some wood wrapped up with twine. Well, polished wood with pistol grips. Still, they were sitting on wooden barrels. They sort of looked like they belonged there.

She slithered back to the egress window, and pulled herself out. Once outside, she made sure she could shoot both bundles, and called Anya.

Player menus could be set so only the owner could see or hear from them, but people would still hear you talking into them. Qiáng whispered to Anya she was set, and Anya left her menu open, so Qiáng could hear everything going on.

Anya faked dragged the Reverend across the street, who howled about the indignity of treating a servant of the Lord this way. This got the doorman's attention, who immediately made a call inside. People waiting to go in were freaked out by what was happening, some of them calling the police. Anya and the Reverend Kelley ignored them, instead walking up to the doorman.

"I wanna see Vito! Now!" She knew her tiny ass dragging a six foot man looked idiotic, so she tried to make up for it by growling her demands.

"You can't just…!"

"Now, goddamnit!" She looked at the people in line. "Can't you people see there's serious shit goin' on here?"

They looked back at her.

She roared, "Get, the fuck, OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

The line dispersed, people running this way and that.

The doorman was fuming, but Anya repeated her demand to see Vito, and to clear the place out. She wanted to meet Vito in a wide open space, not in some office where she could be cornered. The doorman gritted his teeth, and listened to his wrist. "Fine, fuck it. Let's go, you crazy bitch."

As they went in, Qiáng watched as the naked workers were cleared out of the basement. She took a deep breath. "Here we go."

Anya, the Reverend, and the doorman pushed through the stream of people flowing the opposite way. By the time they reached the main restaurant floor, the customers were gone, and instead there were a ton of gangsters holding guns or staves. Nobody was going to chance getting anywhere near close to these two. Anya dragged the Reverend to the center of the floor and demanded to see Kevin.

Kelley tapped his foot on hers. "There. That's Vito," he whispered.

Vito was a large man squeezed into a dinner jacket and pants. He looked ridiculous in a room where some of the occupants had chainmail on. The whole place looked wrong, with the light purple/pink lighting (some glowing magic crystals took the job colored lights would) softly landing on the tables with pristine white tablecloths. There weren't any goblets or wooden cups, but instead fine glassware. The carpets were a nice mahogany color, and probably cost an average weeks salary to clean every day. The bar was off to the left, stacked with a lovely collection of bottles, and the stage had a grand piano, a drum set, and some weird looking table inlaid with crystals. She'd only heard of those; if you were magic attuned, you could channel it into your hands and wave it over the crystals, producing ethereal sounds. A strange invention the players came up with, and very expensive.

She smirked.

It was going to be fun blowing all this shit up.

Vito was standing on the stage, holding a pipe. He pointed at the Reverend Kelley. "Do you think that's a good enough reason to interrupt us this evening?" He motioned at the crystal table. "We had some entertainment planned."

She pushed Kelley forward a little bit. "Where's the kid?"

"No retort? You're no fun."

"High-speed, low-drag, motherfucker. Where's the kid? Then let us go." She knew they were surrounding her, and tried to ignore it. She didn't know how many there were, but it was certainly far more than three.

Vito puffed in his pipe, then pointed it at Kelley. "You've been a real pain in the ass."

Kelley smiled. "I live to serve."

"I'm going to have real fun with you." There was then the sound of some pained breathing, and Vito pointed. "There's your man."

Anya turned to her right, and saw Kevin being held up by two men. His eyes were both almost swollen shut, his lips were cut up and bleeding, and nearly his whole head was purple. He swayed back and forth on his feet, blood dribbling out of his mouth.

Vito massaged his knuckles.

The Reverend grabbed Anya's arm and squeezed. She took a deep breath.

In for four.

Out for four.

She looked at Vito. "He's only a kid."

"I don't believe it."

"I don't care."

He breathed smoke at her. "My line to you."

Qiáng aimed at both bundles, which were each under ten yards from her.

Vito puffed on his pipe. "I don't really believe you betrayed the priest."

"Don't. We were never on his side in the first place."

"Where's the other one. The other woman."

"Waitin' to start shit if you start shit, naturally."

"Where is she here." Vito pointed at the floor.

"She ain't here."

Vito looked at the man who was holding Kevin, and flicked his head towards a door. The man started to drag Kevin away.

"Oh, fuck this," Anya said. "Blow it, Guo."

Qiáng was shook. "Wait, now?!"

"Yeah. He's pointing a gun at Kevin."

Qiáng believed the lie, and fired at both bundles.

Nobody really saw what happened next, unless they were outside the building. Two pillars of white hot plasma blasted through the basement and out the roof of the restaurant. Each pillar had about a two meter diameter, and burned bright white in its center. People five miles away thought they were spotlights.

The air in the restaurant quickly felt arid, and everyone's eyes went completely dry, even as they shut them in the wake of the unreal beams of light which erupted from the floor. Anyone who had the rotten luck of being engulfed by the beam was found to be mostly skeletal afterwards. As Anya blinked her burnt out eyes and took that in, she thought to herself that naturally, if something was that hot, even if you were far away from it, you would get burned.

It was about then that she realized she was partly on fire.

Even Qiáng, outside, was rolling back and forth to put out some flames, blinking furiously until she could see again.

"What the fuck, Qiáng?!"

"I told you my wands were more powerful, Anya!"

Anya ignored her and tried to pat out the fire on her legs. The Revered Kelley broke his feeble bonds, poured a pitcher of water from a nearby table on himself, and then started to help Anya. He apologized for panicking and using all the water on himself, but the speed of his hands helped get Anya's situation under control. They both looked around and took stock of the room.

The carpet was starting to go up, as well as any curtains on the windows. Most of the goons were still on fire, and were busy trying to save themselves. However, the man holding Kevin had dropped him, where the boy now lay motionless on the floor, and was smoking.

Anya gasped and ran for the boy, ignoring that one of the goons was aiming a staff at her. The Reverend grabbed one of the table cloths that was on fire, and using it like a whip, snapped the flaming side at the face of the goon.

It caught the man in the face, causing him to shriek and fall back into another who had a rifle. This man was fighting a losing battle with the flames, trying to keep them off his bullet belts, but both these goons collided and toppled into one of the flaming curtains. A few seconds later, the bullets overheated and started firing off in all directions.

Any of the goons who hadn't succumbed to the flames dove for cover as the sporadic shots began to shred nearly everything in the room. Vito ran off to the backstage area, screaming at everyone to try and save the merchandise. The two holes which the beams punched through the floor had flames beginning to poke out and lick the air.

Qiáng got her eyesight back just as a door to the alley slammed open, a flaming man screaming as he ran out of it. Two other goons came out behind him, each holding a bucket of water, but stopped when they saw her lying there. They dropped them, and pulled their dragoon pistols on her, firing.

She rolled until she hit a wall, her arms extended out as she did so, returning fire. She usually wouldn't use her explosive shots, but the situation didn't really allow that. Her wild firing blasted off their legs, all four of them, causing what was left to fall backwards and hit the ground. She jumped up to her feet and obliterated both their heads simultaneously. Afterwards, she dropped the spent wands on the floor, and pulled open her singed cloak to check how many wands were left. She grit her teeth at her low stock, then ran inside through the open alley door, the forgotten flaming man finally ceasing his screams.

Kevin wasn't moving when Anya got to him. She pulled a few flower vases off the tables and poured them all over the kid, dousing the flames. She went to stand him up when a bullet smacked into the wall. She spun, shield up, and ran towards the rifleman. He recharged the weapon, moving to aim at her head. In desperation, she activated her shield throw skill, which locked her in an animation of throwing it like a discus. The shield flew at the rifleman like a boomerang, striking him in the ribs, and doubling him over. She couldn't move until the shield completed its flight and returned to her hand, but what choice was there? That metal couldn't block bullets. So, she stood there, arm outstretched, hoping like hell nobody shot her in the head.

Most of the goons ran after Vito, trying to save what they could from the basement, some more were lying on the ground being eaten by flames, but a few were still looking to kill the Marauders and the Reverend. Kelley saw a few of the remaining men aiming at the woman frozen in place, and acted quickly. He kicked chair after chair at the shooters, striking a few but distracting all of them. He closed the distance on one, hands like claws, and swiped his face, leaving bloody rips in it. The man screamed and started to fire wildly, not pointing at anything but the ceiling; what was left of the man's mind knew he needed to shoot, but it wasn't taking the time to aim at anything. The Reverend kicked him in the chin, collapsing the goon, dashing off as more goons started to fire at him.

He ran at another, knowing that as long as he kept close, they wouldn't fire on each other. He tried not to notice one's head catching on fire as Qiáng ran into the room, firing lighting wherever she could.

Anya's shield came back, and she sprinted at the man she hit. She drew her sword, and with a quick swipe down, decapitated him. She reached through the arterial spray–ignoring the shocked look on the severed head–picking up the lever-action rifle and firing at the remaining goons. She hated lever-actions–those mock up Mosin-Nagants, the bolties, were easier to fire and rack once you got used to using your middle finger on the trigger, and your index and thumb on the bolt. You could fire quick and keep the rifle better trained on target. These fucking levers threw everything off for her; she made a few of the goons duck, and hit one guy in the shoulder, but that was it. She tossed the gun down once it was empty, and grabbed up Kevin, moving towards Qiáng.

Both her and and the Reverend spun Anya the other way; the whole front of the building was on fire now, with sections falling on what was left of Vito's men. With no choice, they went through the door Vito escaped through.

The smoke ran a stampede along the ceiling, looking for any window or crack to escape through. Tendrils of it snaked down and stabbed into their noses and eyes. Kevin's breathing became more shallow and laboured; his feet were dragging on the floor as Anya and Qiáng held him up by his shoulders. There was no choice, Kevin weighed too much for any one person, and the two women were closer in height, with the Reverend being around six feet tall. He took the lead instead, hands up and ready in some sort of kung-fu pose the others couldn't identify; they only hoped it was real. The smoke was now dropping over them like a curtain, a foul blackness covering everything as they hobbled forward. The walk felt like an eternity, the hallway stretching into the endless awful haze. There was popping and loud crashes coming from behind them, and they sped up their steps. Finally, the Reverend reared back and kicked open a door, and the smoke poured up into the sky like a waterfall in reverse. The four of them stumbled into the alley, with a fence to their left, and what remained of Vito and his goons to their right.

And also, the street.

No one even said anything. Two of the men dropped their boxes, and went for their rifles. But this was close-quarters, now; the Reverend sprinted up to them, slashing at their hands. The weapons were dropped, and suddenly both were being pummeled with fists and kicks.

Nobody drew a weapon after that; instead, the goons surged forward in an angry pile, thinking they could overwhelm their opponent. All they did was put themselves in reach.

Neither Anya or Qiáng ever saw anyone move that fast. Kelley would have still looked fast in slow-motion footage. His hands snaked out and smacked about the heads of his attackers, who were pretty much throwing themselves onto his fists. Someone drew a knife, and he was kicked through a window which belched flames. The Reverend swiped at the broken glass, sending it into the remaining goons.

Anya and Qiáng followed behind, dragging Kevin as the fire roared louder and louder. The Reverend grabbed a man by the head and smashed his face into the wall, chopped another in the throat, snapped someone's knee, struck an elbow hard enough to bend and break it the wrong way, and cut up flesh with his claws. The two Marauders didn't know when the man would run out of energy; it seemed he never would. In those close-quarters, Vito's men didn't stand a chance. Kelley cut through them like someone slashing apart a sandcastle.

The fight lasted all the way until they reached the street, which left Vito standing there, all alone, as horns bellowed in the distance. He was holding a wooden box of some kind, and seeing Kelley approach him, he threw it away. It smashed on the ground, spilling broken glass all over. Vito reached for one of the many coin-pouches recently tied to his belt. "Stop! You hear that?!" The horns got louder. "The greens are coming, you fuckin' assholes! They ain't gonna listen to ya! Just leave!"

The Reverend slowly approached Vito, his face blank. Vito spat on the ground. "I'm lettin' ya walk, ya fuck!"

"It will never be over with a man like you," said the Reverend.

"Ya sunuvabitch! Who the hell do ya think ya are!"

"I am but a lowly messenger, one who tells of forgiveness by those who seek it."

"Say that to the guys behind ya!"

"They spoke their piece with their fists. I replied in kind."

He tugged free one of the coin-purses. "...look! Listen! I have…!"

Two kunai hit Vito in the throat, and one buried itself in his right eye. He fell over on his back, still looking afraid.

Anya sauntered over, leaving Qiáng to struggle with Kevin. She pulled out her knives, and cut away all the coin-purses. When she met the looks of the others, she said, "High-speed, low drag."

She pointed at the Reverend. "Let your boss sort 'em out. I don't have the goddamn patience."

===+++===

Qiáng realized they only had the luxury of a bed for three days. But, at least they hadn't paid all their bills. Plus, they killed a mob boss and took all his money. Which they didn't spend yet, because the closest town probably wanted all of them dead. Well, the mayor at least. Maybe. And the cops, if they cared at all.

For now, it was the woods again. The woods, and she still didn't have pants. And her cloak was singed, which meant she needed to have it repaired or remade, and the color needed a specific dye made from rare berries…

She was trying to ignore the preacher bent over Kevin, who didn't sound like he was breathing. Anya was squatting nearby, hugging her knees while resting her head on them, watching the preacher work. You couldn't see her mouth, or tell much about her expression.

Kelley had what was left of Kevin's supplies to work with. Most of the boy's face was bandaged, red showing through the white. Open jars of salves and potions were scattered about. The teen was stretched out on his bedroll, face turned to the stars in the sky, eyes closed.

The Reverend sat back on his haunches, wiping his hands on a rag. "He's stable. He'll probably wake up. It's not great."

"That fucker," Anya whispered.

Qiáng looked back towards the town in the distance. "What's going to happen to them?"

The Reverend shrugged. "Vito mostly ran things. The others followed, and they might break apart. Or, at least, leave an opening for some decent folk to have a say. People like Cynthia. I think they'll be all right."

Qiáng nodded.

"I'll have to stay with you, for the time being," the Reverend said. "I can't leave the boy like this. We need to get him away from here and someplace he can be properly tended to."

"We can't go south," Anya said.

"I know, he told me you were after his sister, right?"

Both Qiáng and Anya looked from the unconscious boy to Kelley. "Oh, fucking come on," Anya said.

The Reverend smiled, putting up his hands. "I tend to bring these things out of people."

He stood, dusting off his robes. "Come on. I know a waystation and shelter for the homeless we can hide out at. Thomas owes me a favor for taking care of some wolves."

Qiáng cocked her head. "You… you beat up wolves?"

"Of course not! I walked to a town and hired some hunters. Thomas is too busy to leave, you see?"

"...oh."

Anya shook her head. "This is nuts. You're fuckin' nuts. How much shit have you stirred up around here?" She pointed at Kevin, then Qiáng. "We already have enough problems."

"Why, yes, you killed three men to the south, and then maybe forty more here in three days."

"...well, fuck."

The Reverend smiled. "Fear not, because the Lord will not turn his back on a child in need. Behold! He stirs!"

Kevin did mumble and fidget a bit.

"Do not be afraid, my fellow sinners! Because who is without sin? The Lord looks upon you and your righteous journey with favor! How else can you explain our meeting here, and your sudden accumulation of wealth, except providence! Look! at how our Lord God blesses those who think not only of themselves, however flawed they may be! This dear, sweet, innocent child must be reunited with whom he has lost! Such is the holy power of forgiveness and righteousness!

"Also, from what I've seen… you two could certainly use some Jesus in your lives."

They stared at him.

The Reverend reached into Kevin's bag with a flourish, retrieving a capsule of smelling salts and breaking them under the boy's nose. Kevin sat up with a start, gurgling and coughing, and the Reverend raised his hands, "The boy lives! Praise be to Jesus! For He would not let such a pure heart suffer so! Stand, my child!"

Kevin shakily got to his feet, and the Reverend clapped him on the back. "Do you feel the power of the Lord healing you?!"

Kevin kept coughing.

"Can you feel the love of the Lord?!"

The sun started to peek over the horizon.

"Can you not feel the warmth and embrace of your Lord and God, Jesus Christ?!"

Kevin threw his hands in the air. "I feel alive!"

"Do ya, child?!"

"I feel it!"

"Say it loud!"

"I feel it!!!"

The Reverend spread his hands wide. "A miracle! A testament to all that is good in the world! The Lord will not let evil win! This is the power of the Holy versus the darkness!"

Birds started singing. And flying away from all the noise.

"Now, let us travel, friends! Brothers and sisters! My companions in Christ!

"Because I'm pretty sure the cops are gonna start searchin' this here forest soon."

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