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The Misfits meet System-san
[1.33] The Misfits in Manifestoria

[1.33] The Misfits in Manifestoria

Aragon:

They were now in Manifestoria, in their new accommodations. It was one entire wing of a disused boarding school, containing two bathrooms and ten bedrooms. Aragon got the room closest to the entry, Esther and Evereena had the next room along, while each couple from the Misfits had their own room at the other end.

The group was expected to look after their meals; all the government would do was deliver enough food to their communal kitchen.

At their first breakfast in their new location, the teenagers were excitedly discussing what to do for the day. Esther and her daughter, on the other hand, were very timid. They had to be encouraged to sit down with the others. Aragon calmly ate his meal and listened to the Misfit's conversation.

"Isn't it amazing to have a proper sit-down meal for once!" said Alice.

"Yeah! With vegetables and spices and a soup! This is practically heaven!" said Bronsen.

Aragon noted that all four Misfits had enormous appetites. The fuel for all of that overpowered strength had to come from somewhere.

Cassy leaned back and patted her now slightly bulging tummy. Then she burped loudly.

This amused Aragon, although he tried to hide it.

"Ark! Cassy! We're in company now, you know!" said Alice.

"I don't think anybody minds. But, more importantly, we need to talk about what we will do today," said Cassy.

Aragon finished his meal and shoved the plates to one side.

As if on cue, Esther gathered her plates and Evereena's and piled them on the kitchen bench. Then she added Aragon's and the Misfits's. She and her daughter started boiling water on the wood stovetop, intending to wash the dishes.

"Ah, thanks, Esther," said Aragon.

He leant back on his chair and contemplated Cassy's question.

Yeah, what do you intend to do?

But he got a system message before he could go far with his thinking.

Ding! Gentle hint, Aragon: Is expecting the two ex-slaves to clean up after you maybe a bit much? After all, you have sworn to look after them until they can function in normal society as free individuals and not slaves, so expecting them to do your chores is, maybe, not indicated.

Gulp.

"Ah, ladies, The Voice of the World has suggested that it would be better if I do the dishes."

The ladies in question looked puzzled.

Then Aragon noticed that the Misfits were also looking a bit startled.

"I'm sure we can help you too, Aragon!" said Bronsen, "Because System-san has kindly suggested we could..."

"So just sit down, ladies, and watch us do the cleaning up!" said Alice.

With slightly anxious looks on their faces, not to mention befuddlement, the two ex-slaves watched as everyone else except them cleaned up.

In the end, they were all back at the table.

"Say, Aragon, how common is it for people to have maxed-out strength abilities?" asked Bronsen.

"Not all that common. Even less common for four teenagers to have maxed out anything."

"I guess most teenagers don't get to fight off an enraged Lesser Grass Eating Hippoxilla all by themselves all that often," said Alice.

They fought off a what!

Nobody appeared to notice how shocked Aragon looked.

"Anyway, if we're so overpowered, can't we be some sort of guard or something?" said Drayden.

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Apart from the complete lack of discipline and maturity?

He didn't show this, however.

I know!

Let's get some of our abilities out in the open; let's have a combat training session.

They're too confident for their own good.

Which is why, an hour later, they were all gathered in the courtyard next to the dormitory. There were also the three extra guards consigned to protect them. Only one was officially rostered at this time, but the other two decided to hang around a bit for the novelty. Aragon and Bronsen were the centre of attention. Both had wooden staffs in their hands.

Bronsen was supremely confident. "With my maxed-out abilities, this should be easy. Please don't take it too badly, Aragon! We've got System-san on our side!"

One of the guards lifted his voice and said, "Go!".

Ten seconds of furious, high-speed action later, the match ended abruptly, with Aragon's staff smashing around Bronsen's head.

Bronsen flicked off some splinters and looked puzzled.

"How did you do that? I mean, I've got four times the number of points in speed, strength and combat ability, and you still beat me?"

Big smirk from Aragon.

"Ha! There is more to life than just numbers, you know. The Voice of the World may have granted you high abilities, but practice is still important. I have been training since I was a teenager. It's gotten me points, but my experience then amplifies those points."

"Oh," said Bronsen, looking very crestfallen.

Aragon laughed again. "Don't worry; your sheer speed and strength were still pretty good. I had to exert myself to win there. How about we have another little bout? I'm sure you could win against me."

They had another. Aragon still won.

"You're too predictable! You're bloody fast, but I can still manage, just, to avoid you!"

Aragon fought with all four teenagers. He and the watching three guards were impressed despite Aragon not losing once.

"Not bad, not bad at all. It just goes to show how far maxed-out abilities can take you. Nevertheless, may I suggest you spend a few hours each day in training? I’m sure the Treasurer can arrange a few guards for that. Plus me, of course."

The teenagers, looking chagrined, readily agreed.

"And, it is certainly amazing; you four are exactly equal in your fighting abilities. It feels like I've had four fights against the same opponent!"

The watching guards nodded their heads in agreement with this.

Aragon looked at the other two in the audience, who, up to now, had been silent observers. Since Evereena was the closest, he asked her directly.

"And, what did you think of that?"

She looked at him, then at the MIsfits.

"Ahh, you are very fast? I couldn't see anything; it was all too fast."

"Yep, that's because I have a good speed ability, and, of course, the Misfits are maxed out."

Aragon and the others already know that neither mother nor daughter had much in the way of any ability, and they were certainly not very high.

The Treasurer:

Well, that's something. They are willing to train to improve their already considerable fighting abilities. And they're eager to do any suitable manual labour.

He skimmed through a thick stack of reports.

Yep, I got some suitable jobs that are doable by brute strength without much skill.

I wish they hadn't made such a public vow about ending slavery, but.

We are definitely going to be attracting attention. I hope that Crysteth is sensible and helps out.

Nimbus (The prime minister of Crysteth):

Nimbus was one of those who received notification of the Mistfit's intention to end slavery. Consequently, when he received the initial communications from the Treasurer about the Misfits, he was willing to devote quite a bit of attention to the matter.

It was just a bit unfortunate; the day he learned about the Misfits was also busy in other ways.

It started with his brother.

"Hey, Nimbus! Can you deal with Lena for me? She's hopeless, and I've found someone who appreciates me much more! We go together so well, and she's pretty good with the you-know-what!"

He gave his brother a nudge-nudge-wink-wink routine before waltzing out of Nimbus's office.

Nimbus stared at the door his brother had gone out of and then facepalmed.

I'm so glad Mum isn't alive to see her beloved son's appalling behaviour. He’s dumping Lena after only a year to chase after the local barmaid. Who, I'm sure, is nothing but a golddigger. And he expects me to look after Lena?

And then, he got another report, delivered by hand from his chief of guards.

Shit, another group of slavers found!

A small group had tried to make a run for it and got caught by a front-line border patrol.

If that group had managed to gain a stronghold and start catching people and turning them into slaves, we could have had a full-scale battle!

Fortunately, the high-level slavers are such a disorganised, backstabbing mess.

But when the slave emperor orders them to cooperate...

The guards had fought them, and, as usual, the grey-collared slaves had never given up. The guards had no choice but to fight them to the bitter end. At least, once the grey-collared slaves were dead, the high-grade slaves didn't put up much of a fight.

But, for once, there were some survivors: two children, a girl and a boy.

Bloody hell. We can't allow them to run about without supervision; someone might get nasty ideas. And I don't want to have them killed; that'll make me no better than a slaver myself.

A dim light went off in his mind.

"Hey, I got a good idea for once! I'll get Lena to look after them! And I'll send them all to Manifestoria! That way, they have all the slaves in one location. Course, I'll have to send extra guards and resources to help. It can't be helped; we've been too complacent for too long; we'll have to increase the military resources in that area. And to the Rimwall."

Oh, bloody hell. These slavers are going to be the end of us.

But hopefully, we can fight them off for a few more decades.

He wrote up some orders and then set about convening a planning meeting. Not just for his guards and military but also with representatives from the much larger country that was clockwise of Crysteth. When, not if, Crysteth fell to the slavers, they would be the next in line. So they were highly motivated to help.