I broke into a run to see what the pawn shop clerk would do. He didn’t appear to be the most athletic type, and my observation proved true when he barely managed to trot for about twenty yards before stopping. Turning the corner, I ditched the guy and looked for the nearest bus stop. It must have been the coins. One or both groups that were after me must have hit up every pawn shop in LA, offering big cash for information on anyone trying to trade in those coins.
In hindsight, I would have passed out a dozen or so of the coins to random people around the city just to have every pawn shop in town calling about people bringing them in. My plan to melt the silver down was looking better and better. To make that happen, I planned my bus trip to hit one of the jewelry supply stores I’d found through my earlier search.
Several hours later, the evening brought no relief to the Southern California heat. I’d made it to the Luxury Road Motel. It was about the farthest thing from luxury you could think of, but it was cheap and the lady at the desk didn’t even ask for an ID when I tipped her in cash. The room was gross, and dirty, but I would clean it myself with the supplies I’d bought from the supermarket down the street.
My second-floor location had a small deck that would be perfect for when I needed to use the crucible. I’d have to snag a few bricks to set the contraption on so it wouldn’t burn down the motel, though burning this place down might be an improvement. For the next two days, I kept a low profile, just going to the store a time or two to get groceries, and avoiding my neighbors whenever I could.
I tried to think of anything I might have missed that could lead someone to me. There was nothing I could think of, but that didn’t mean I was home free. The fact that neither the cultists, nor the corporate goons had tracked me down was a good sign. I’d just have to be careful where I sold my silver. Melted down into bars and using a fake ID shouldn’t leave a trail. I’d also make sure I took a long bus ride to a pawn shop or jewelry store nowhere near the motel I now live at.
It was all really depressing. I had felt I was going nowhere before, renting a tiny apartment, and barely making ends meet when I was working at the insurance company. Now, I was a few steps below that and just a couple of bad summoning sessions away from being homeless. What should my end goal be? Even if I somehow amassed great wealth, which Minerva seemed to think was eventually possible, I’d still have a target on my back.
Was I really that tied to things here, or might there be a place for me on one of the worlds I kept traveling to? I pondered the question as the days passed. Surprisingly, I found that I really missed my martial arts classes. I’d have to do some research and find a nearby school. I felt bad for bailing on Sifu Dan without saying goodbye, but I was pretty sure my normal haunts would be watched closely now.
At least I could do basic exercises and practice what I had already learned. Oddly enough, my knowledge of fighting with a mace had followed me home to Earth. It was close enough to a club, so if I could find a stout stick or a wrench while I was out, it would make it a lot easier to defend myself. I’d have to keep my eye out for a suitable mace substitute when I was out shopping.
After a few days of moping about my motel room, I finally received a new system prompt.
The conditions for your extended summoning contract have been met. Prepare for immediate summoning.
Your summoning parameters are as follows:
1. You are being summoned by the mage Fitzfazzle.
2. Summoning tier, 0.
3. Summoning rank, 7.
4. Rewards level, good.
5. This summons is combat related. Prepare accordingly.
6. Limited compliance is active. Full autonomy is active.
7. Your Tier 0 armory loadout has been activated.
I was pulled from the tiny deck where I had been sitting and watching the world go by. My time in the void was brief, and before I knew it, I was stepping out of the portal and back into the same gnome cave that I had visited before.
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The cave was a bustle of activity last time, now, it was even busier. There were a few tents set up and armored gnomes patrolled the area. There were also a lot of children and older gnomes moving about. Everyone had a look of fear and concern on their faces, and more than a few furtive glances were cast toward the cave entrance, as if they expected some enemy to appear at any moment.
“Rico, you made it. I wasn’t sure that Fazzlemore’s spell would work the way he said it would. The undead are out in the woods, heading this way, are you ready to go?” Fitzfazzle said.
“Ready to go, just tell me where,” I replied.
“Ha, that’s the gnomish spirit, we love a can-do attitude. Here, you’re going to love the MESS we made for you, the boys are just placing the finishing touches on it and loading the wands. Hey, you do know how to use a wand don’t you?” Fitzfazzle asked.
“Not really, I did receive one as a reward and it said I could push mana into it to cast the spell, but that was just because my world eats any mana that shows up there,” I admitted.
“Well, if you can push mana into a wand, you can link to one no problem. Just reach out with your mana and touch each wand on your MESS, once you’ve attuned to it, it’ll do what you order as long as you aren’t more than ten feet away from the wand,” Fitzfazzle assured me.
“I was wondering, for when I get home, how much mana does a compact magic missile wand take to activate if its drained?” I asked.
“Ah, the compact model. I love the size of it, but they aren’t used much since they only hold six missiles. If the thing was completely drained, I’d say a single point of mana would charge it up enough for one shot,” Fitzfazzle advised.
“Thanks, that’ll be a big help when I get home. Woah, you have been busy,” I said as we walked over to a half dozen mechs that were lined up near the cave entrance. Five were like the one I had tested the other day, but one had a larger humanoid torso on it, and looked to be sized up to fit my body.
A group of gnomes were loading magic wands into each of the tubes on the mech. Fitzfazzle’s crew had gone with a twelve-tube weapon under each arm, and one over each shoulder. I’d have forty-eight wands of magic missile at my disposal, each of which held somewhere between twelve and fifteen shots. The mechs also had long bladed spears welded to each hand, giving us some melee attack capacity other than just stomping on stuff.
“Hop inside and I’ll give you the crash course on how everything works,” Fitzfazzle said.
I climbed up inside the cockpit, surprised to find it fit well enough and the gnomes had even mounted some padding inside to make it a bit more comfortable. They’d closed in the cockpit with metal armor save for a few small view ports. The viewports had small metal doors I could close over them if there was danger. Overall, my vision would be slightly restricted while inside the mech, but not to the point where I couldn’t function.
For movement, I had a joystick to move the upper torso, and foot pedals to control the walking. The throttle was a small knob on the control panel that was a bit awkward to use, but all in all, it wasn’t bad, and I figured I could drive it well enough after a few minutes of practice.
As the last magic missile wands were sealed in the tubes, I reached out with my mana to see if I could activate them. I targeted the ones on my mech’s right arm. It was strange but as I concentrated, I could feel a connection. It took only moments to make the connection and I now knew that I could activate all twelve wands when I wanted to.
I couldn’t link to any more than twelve, that seemed to be the limit to my connection. When the wands I was using were out of ammo, it would just take me a bit to link to the next set. Fitzfazzle also confirmed that the magic missile spell operated like it did in many games, just identify your target, and the missile would home in on it with reasonable accuracy.
“The dead are here!” one of the gnomes guarding the entrance to the cave yelled.
“No, they should still be miles away. Rico, get that MESS fired up, you’ll have to figure it out as you go, we need every MESS fighting if my people are going to survive this,” Fitzfazzle said before running toward one of the other mechs. Other gnomes were climbing into their cockpits as I gave my mech a nudge of the throttle. It walked forward at a slow pace, and I practiced swiveling the torso around.
“Okay, I can do this, it’s just like a game,” I said to myself as the gnomes nearest the entrance started to scream in terror.