“Run, Ziegler!” Chris shouted at me. I weaved underneath a sweeping arc of blue-white plasma, then brought my guns to bare. My dual-deagle pistols were playing a steady beat in the song of this battle, and I was almost intoxicated with adrenaline. I couldn’t and wouldn’t run. Chris was just trying to play it safe, and I was not. I quit strafing, instantly beginning a bee-line for the giant mech spitting glowing orange bullets that would tear any person to pieces, and swinging a plasma blade capable of shearing sky-scrapers from the earth, and dropped my guns.

Chris let out a strangled groan as he noticed what I was doing, and I knew that he would have faith in me. I brought my hands down faster than the pistols could fall, slapping the sides of my thighs with my hands, and felt my Victrol churn as two energy pistols, which looked no different from normal pistols, were summoned to my hands.

I raised my guns and was just in time to notice the mech had squared one of its massive turrets on me. A goofy grin escaped my lips when the bullets all slowed and I saw them all approaching me. My hands jittered for a moment, before I unleashed my talent which earned me my moniker.

My fingers flickered as I unleashed a torrent of energy cells, all of them finding purchase on the center of my opponents rounds. I continued my charge, all the while shooting down opposing projectiles. When I was within arms reach of the mech, I tossed my guns to the ground, and reached across my body with both arms, and slapped my hips, grabbing the air. I yanked.

Two swords the color of snow appeared as if from an invisible sheath, and they looked very unfriendly. I brought them down parallel to each other, right through one of the four mech legs, shearing it from the body. 

The machine lurched at the loss of one leg, and I slid underneath it, discarding my weapons and arriving underneath the center of the mech, where a glowing blue core sat. I reached for my left abdomen with my right hand, and pulled free of the air a gun. A strong gun. A R.A.I.L. gun. I braced myself against the ground, and began the three second process of firing.

Three. The mech recovers and is regaining its assessment of its surroundings. It re-trains its turrets on Chris, who is now retreating at a speed with proper respect to what is about to happen.

Two. An alarm blares as the machine notices an enemy presence underneath it. It brings its legs up, a massive, twenty-ton body now falling directly over me. My RAIL gun began to glow like the sun was cocked in the chamber.

One. The core is now inches from the barrel. My eyes feel hungry for the spectacle about to take place. There is no escape. My arsenal will make the world tremble. 

Zero. BOOM. One moment ago, the mech was there, the next, it was replaced by a column of fire that reached all the way to the heavens. I began to laugh, my eyes fixated on the beautiful spectacle of a column of white fire, its wild, whipping shape looking more like a dance to me.

Chris approached me at a jog, his heavy armor made of plates of lead, fused to steel and titanium. It was impossibly heavy to anyone without a Victrol. Even most with a Victrol. 

Chris stopped in front of me, panting as he hoisted a shield made of a thrice-sturdier material to his back, and sheathing a comically small rapier at his side. “One of these days I ought to make you tank your own missions, you ungrateful bastard!” He shouted angrily.

I couldn’t stop laughing as I slapped a hand on his shoulder. Between laughs I said, “I never let you get sloppy, though. Also, can you complain about that view?” I said as I gestured to the still-towering pyre of godly magnitude.

Chris took a blank glance at the top of the pyre, or in its direction–it was impossible to see from the ground–and nodded appreciatively. “I’ll say. That is pretty damn magnificent. But still, you could have rendered those turrets inoperable if you had dropped the whole ‘Put on a show’ bit. I took a beating just so you could look cool, and now we can’t even scrap the mech for Arc.” He dejectedly turned away from me, but I knew he was smiling.

After all, he would have left me alone long ago if he really minded the whole deal. I cheerily walked in front of him, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Ahhhh. Don’t be like that. Despite my tendencies, we’re still one of the most efficient teams of Vics out there. I just don’t see the point in doing things like all the others.”

Chris exaggeratedly hinged his back and swung like a crane, his mouth open and crooked with obvious non-comprehending. “Are you joking? I do. We would take less damage, make more Arc, kill more monsters, and enter higher social rings. I know we could climb the ladder to the top. We’re good enough.”

I guess he doesn’t ever really pay attention to the other Vics, huh? “Listen, Chris. I know we could do that too, but why? It's plenty fun down here, and I like making it fun! We live comfortably and happily, with only a minimal downside of greater risk of death. But have you ever seen the faces of those hyper-efficient Vics? They always look more like the mech we fought than humans.” I said in as sobering a voice as possible.

Chris shook his head and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I guess you are right in that we don’t lead bad lives. But still, it wouldn’t hurt to pick up the pace a little, would it?”

Now it was my turn to concede. “Hm… I’ll think about making my skills a tiny bit more efficient, happy?”

Chris laughed and slapped my shoulder again, “Very!!! Hahahaha” He laughed the entire way home.

……

I yawned, nearly dropping my hot cup of herba. I set it down and stretched one of those long and freeing stretches. Chris came up as silent as a big man could-apparently very silent-and snatched my herba straight from the table. “Hey!” I reached for it, but the man was already back-peddling while drinking deep of the refreshing and energizing herba.

I slapped my thigh and summoned a small literal-pea shooter, firing with just enough force to shatter the clay cup in his hand. Too bad all the herba was already gone. I fired again, hitting him in the forehead, making him spit out the mouthful he had. He started coughing while I dove out of the way of the fountain of herba which erupted from his gullet.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“That's what you get for trying to take my shit, kiddo.” I said. Chris looked up at me, a glint in his third eye, a red mark surrounded by green pea mush on his forehead.

“Son of a… Anyway, on that note, what are we doing today? I don’t really want to deal with mechs or the like anymore. I’d prefer some classic monster bounties.” Chris said. I nodded, silently agreeing with him. Then my eyes hardened like red-hot steel dipped in oil. Chris dropped his hips, fists to face, elbows in, feet prancing, shoulders rolling.

I laughed and gave the man in a boxing stance a pat on the shoulder. “I hope you haven’t forgotten about that herba you stole a moment ago. I’ll definitely be taking that into consideration when we visit the board today.”

Chris was about ready to retort when he recalled that he was the Thief of Herba. He grit his teeth and nodded. I gave a taunting smile, then turned heel and walked out the door. I pushed open the old-earth door which was in desperate need of mending. My porch had a nice street view, and nothing zoomed around on these once-busy streets.

Chris tailed me out of there and we nodded to each other and headed for the garage which was not a part of the house. Chris pulled the fulcrum style door up, and I walked inside and over to the horse on my side of the garage, and Chris went for the war-boar he kept on the other side of the partitioned garage.

I led the horse out to the street, so did Chris, who closed the door. I mounted my steed.

“Giddyap, Gunner! Hiyah!” I spurred the horse on. He whined with gusto, reared back majestically, then tilted forward as if a war-horse, only to set an awfully slow pace. I kept my hardened bad-ass expression on my face as I had done and practiced a million times, and it never got easier.

Hell, even the fatass boar carrying a veritable mountain was casually keeping pace with my “warhorse”. Clearly, I was a fool when I bought Gunner. I hadn’t thought about anything except being a magical cowboy striding through ranks of monsters when I purchased him.

Chris yawned as we peddled down the road which hadn’t seen proper automotive use in five years. The suburbs were a pretty low-cost place to live, and it certainly showed. They were unrenovated and hardly maintained, not to mention the lack of walls, and the typical lack of Vics. 

Fortunately for our neighbors, Chris and I were pretty damn good Vics. Hm… should we go for something worth more today? Maybe Chris was right, but I still want to get revenge. “Chris, when we get to the Wall, let's split up and look for some high value single-target bounties. You find five and I’ll find the Crowner of the day.”

Chris nodded, yawned, and, faster than thought, whipped his head up and to the left, right at the sun. I lazily looked up, and saw a wyvern approaching, using the sun as cover. He was still a long while away, maybe ten minutes, but I decided that would be the first kill of the day. 

“Ziegler, take it down. I don’t want to come back to a ruined home.” Chris said. 

Jokes on him, though. I’d already put my hand on my left abdomen, drawing from thin air a very long gun. I didn’t stop Gunner as I took aim, the horse slow enough that it wouldn’t affect its flight, looking through the veritable telescope on my gun. I centered my crosshair on the dragon-esque thing. Its ugly maw brimming with venom and disease looked quite unhealthy. Like a tumor.

I decided to excise it. A giddy grin split my face as I squeezed down on the trigger and felt the round begin to draw from my whirring Victrol. It became a little bit darker in the area right around me. Then, with the precision of a surgeon, I released the trigger. Of course, the release wasn’t precise, it was my aim. The round hit the wyvern in the bottom of his jaw, and removed via explosion the ugly head entirely.

Unceremoniously tossing the rifle behind my back, I continued to trudge along. I occupied myself with greeting all the folks in my neighborhood. They were all friendly with me, and it made sense considering I sniped creatures like that which tried to attack us often.

When I made it to the Wall, a giant… Well, wall, which contained bounties and odd-jobs, Chris wordlessly separated from me and I went the other way. I tied Gunner to an old stop sign, not that he’d wonder off if I just left him. He was hopelessly attached to me. He’d just follow me around like a duckling. I stroked his mane a little bit, giving a modicum of comfort to the horse.

I turned my attention back to the wall. I strode over, and immediately spotted a biggun. Chris always seemed to think that I don’t want to advance, but really, I do, just not by sacrificing a well-lived life. But, if a big monster bounty like this showed up, which was rarer than rare, it could easily place you on the podium for promotion.

I snatched it, and a hand went to snatch it right after I did. I was faster though. I stuffed the bounty in my satchel and turned to face the would-be snatcher. My eyes met the fierce gaze of a small girl, around age 16. I cocked an eyebrow, crossed my arms, and said, ”Don’t you know it's against the code of conduct to try and snatch a quest? I could have you reported.” 

She offered me her best contemptuous smile, and adopted an equally haughty stance. Crossing her arms, she said, “You’re talking out your ass right now. There isn’t a code of conduct, and I was only trying to take it off the board. You know, I feel offended that you would accuse me of thievery. I might feel better if you gave me that bounty.”

I scoffed at the blatant attempt to guilt-trip me out of my bounty. I shook my head, offered her a flipping bird, and turned heel, only to run into a particularly light-fingered-looking individual. He sprawled, as stealthy folks always seem to when getting hit, and I gave both him and the now-panicked girl an inquisitive glance.

I sighed and reached down to the pack at the boys side, and rummaged through it. I whistled, “Damn, you’ve been busy, kids! There's some quality stuff in here, and you just about got a bounty you could sell for a fortune. Too bad I’m putting an end to this.”

The girl looked at me, swallowed a lump in her throat, and looked like she was about to start screaming, when a big man shoved her aside to grab a bounty. I shook my head and walked back to Gunner. I hopped upon my majestic steed who lacked majesty, and strode off, forgetting about the little thieves. 

I didn’t really feel like messing up those kids' day more than I already had just to quash some small-time thievery. It would drive them well, as long as they stopped the stealing and began the slaying.

I reached the meeting point and sat down on the fountain edge and began to inspect my Vic. I always tended to get a bit lost in it, but so did all the other Vics I know. It looked like a man made of metal shrouded in shadow, holding a gun in one hand and a karambit in the other. It was the very essence of “Cool,” well… it was to me. 

That makes me think, why do Vics take the form of the thing we love, or hate, the most? I’ve always loved cool people, guns, swords, and fire, but some people form things like suffering. Why? Do they genuinely love those most, or is it a matter of transformation?

Chris gave me a smack on the shoulder, and my head darted up. He fanned five contracts like playing cards and gave me a grin. I pulled the contract from my satchel, and showed it to him. His triumphant smile turned to defeat when he saw it. Then again to happiness when he thought about what it meant.

Chris grabbed my shoulder and began bellowing a laughter so loud people nearby fled. “Finally, Ziegler! You are finally taking this seriously! I never thought I’d see the day. We’re definitely going to get promoted when we bring this one in.” He shouted while laughing.

I grinned and stood, giving him a smack on the shoulder. “I always took this seriously, I just never sacrificed my life for this. There's a difference. Regardless, we need to head out. Todays going to be busy.” I said while stretching my back. We both mounted and set off shortly after.