Chương 48: 47-I Am Lawman

Montoya watched helplessly as the zealots escorted a new group of prisoners into the compound. There were already almost 400 Fed prisoners inside it, all of them with their hands bound behind their backs. Montoya had never been tied before and had no idea of the considerable personal discomfort involved. Even worse, some of the soldiers here had been tied for most of a day. Didn't that break some sort of convention, Geneva, Gin Ever, or some shit? Zealots were creepy.

They always had that serene, almost beatific smile plastered on their faces, even when committing atrocities that would make Colon. L. Hawking look like Mother Teresa. Montoya gasped when he recognized one of the new arrivals: it was Noah. He was hard to miss with that manbun. Noah recognized him too, and quickly straddled towards him, as fast as his bindings allowed him to.

"How are you doing, man? They caught you, too?" he whispered as he sat down behind him.

"Yes, when the dungeon imploded, I tried to stay put, but then everything went south. I ran north, trying to escape from the Circlers. Seems it was the wrong choice."

"Same here. What do you think they are going to do with us?"

"Nothing good, I am afraid. Sometimes they take a few soldiers outside. They never come back."

"We are not like them, Montoya, my man. We have leverage." Montoya was about to ask him what he meant when he was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a group of three zealots escorting someone he knew—Sergeant White. He had met him a few times at HQ. Montoya knew the Sarge was a Recruiter, a class tasked with inducting people into the Federation army.

They had a class perk that allowed them to issue a special quest that, when fulfilled, stripped the quester of his powers, resetting him at level zero and allowing him to pick new Competencies and Choices. The idea was to allow Avatars to renounce their classes and join the Army, acquiring a new, officially sanctioned class. He knew all this because the class's original design had been his—Hawking, that anal retentive control freak, had gutted his design, using the ideas of GM, that creepy guy, instead.

The good sergeant had been captured by the Answer in that clusterfuck they had sold as a great Federation victory. Seems he was back.

"I am sorry to have to meet you in these circumstances," the Sergeant started apologetically. He looked malnourished and scared. Montoya suddenly noticed the bruises on his face and arms and realized the man had been subjected to repeated beatings. This did not bode well.

"As you know, I can grant a quest that will erase your class. Our hosts have graciously allowed me to use this power on you, to cleanse the evil system from your bodies," White said in a monotone voice, as if rehearsing a script.

"Unfortunately, my power has a six-hour cooldown, so I can only cleanse 28 of you in the next seven days." He was interrupted by one of the zealots, a chubby fortysomething woman with a beautiful smile.

"Those lucky enough to have the system expunged from their bodies will become members of our community. Who knows? Maybe someday you could be chosen, and become zealots—apostles of Mary Beth," she said jovially, as if sharing great news.

"The rest will die," she added—the smile never left her face.

"So I guess most of you are volunteers," White said, looking both ashamed and frightened at the same time.

"Please, all of you who have kids, stand up," he finished. Noah chose that moment to stand up.

"Sit down, you moron, don't draw attention to yourself," Montoya whispered. Noah ignored him.

"Do you know what all these people have in common?" he asked confidently, striding towards the three zealots escorting White. God, there we go again, with the salesman attitude. He is going to get both of us killed, Montoya thought. Noah had worked selling insurance over the phone and thought himself Leonardo DiCaprio in The Wolf of Wall Street.

"Every power they have, every ability, every perk, has been designed by me. I know how they work from the inside out." By you, you little shit? Montoya wisely remained silent.

"You infected all these people with the system?" the jolly woman asked him, not an iota of emotion marring her perfect smile. Noah realized he had committed a serious blunder and tried to backtrack.

"Well, my contributions were modest. He is the real brain behind all the work," he added, pointing at Montoya. Then he stared stupidly at his own index finger, as if he could not understand what was happening. Montoya was near enough to realize what was wrong: Noah's finger was melting. His colleague started to scream in horror and pain as the strange condition went up his arm, infecting the rest of his body. He melted slowly, like an ice cream in the sun, howling the whole time.

The zealots smiled approvingly as he thrashed and screamed, as if watching a toddler play in the park. Then the happy woman turned to Montoya. Oh, god.

"I have information," he screamed. The woman approached.

"Not only about the Federation. About Babylon, too," he hurriedly explained.

"The Colonel had the place bugged, and I know everything they discussed in their meetings. We needed the information for our work." She placed her hand on Montoya's face.

"The woman called Dawn can destroy classes with a thought. Much faster than White. She does not need quests to do so, only consent," he almost screamed. That worked. The zealot drew back her hand. Montoya sighed. So close.

"Sister Molly, I think this one needs your delicate touch," she said, turning towards an older zealot. The other woman placed her hand on Montoya's head. Every thought he had ever had, every memory he had ever stored in his mind, every emotion Montoya had ever felt jumped from his brain into the zealot's. Montoya's head exploded. Sister Molly turned towards her companions.

"It is true," she said. Dawn threw herself flat on the ground, trying to hide her presence. A troop of female archers mounted on stags patrolled the city just three hundred feet in front of her. She waited until they had vanished from view, then started walking again. She had fainted in her apartment after touching that weird polyhedron and woken up inside a nightmare. She was surrounded by people who should not exist, doing things that should not be possible, in the middle of a war.

She was young, but cynical enough to know what happened to strangers in the middle of wars: they got conscripted. Luckily, there was a lot of chaos around and plenty of opportunities to escape unseen. She joined a group of refugees walking towards a glowing rift in mid-air. No, thank you. She broke away from the group at the last possible instant, taking advantage of the chaos, and left the camp. She went north. It seemed to be less heavily patrolled. The buildings reminded Dawn of Erela, fifty years ago.

This seemed to be a technological civilization, not as advanced as her own. They had probably not grasped the secret of Essence yet. Many buildings lay in ruins, and strange things were afoot. Dawn gasped as she passed by the corpse of a three-headed humanoid, riddled with the javelins those female warriors used. What was happening here? That thing was an affront to the laws of biology.

It did not appear to be a malformation—that beast was supposed to have three heads, but there was no valid evolutionary reason for that. She kept dodging among the buildings. She was tired, hungry, and thirsty. She began to wonder if leaving the camp had been a good idea after all. She studied her surroundings—she was in the middle of a park. It looked oddly peaceful, after all she had been through. She sat, her back against a huge elm in the middle of the park.

She noticed all its branches were full of ravens, which seemed to study her with weird intensity. She felt something was off. She stood up and resumed walking. She looked up. The ravens sat in perfect formation on top of a building, still glaring at her. She started running. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. She did not stop until twenty minutes later, when her legs gave up, and she felt like throwing up with exertion.

She looked up, fearing what she would find—all the lamplights around her were covered with ravens perched on them. The birds suddenly launched themselves into the air. They descended near her, forming a noisy whirlpool of wings. They collided with one another, coalescing into a single form. A weird guy with a fake smile plastered on his face and clothes that seemed to be at least a century old, faced her. He greeted her in a language she could not understand— Rejoice, for you have been found. Mary Beth is with you.

More people, dressed just as strangely as he, came out of the empty buildings. She counted four. Dawn understood then that the birds had been driving her to this exact location. Billy soared through the sky in one of the vehicles granted by his new powers, an almost invisible glider with advanced sensors. -Vehicle of the Law x 6: Once per hour, Lawman can summon a personalized vehicle, containing up to six ranks in different abilities, at least one focused on movement.

The current vehicle must be dispelled for the cooldown to begin. Bob and Jenna were required to create and maintain a Celestial Gate for the last batch of refugees traveling to Belona. That gave him a free morning. He used it wisely, patrolling the skies over Milwaukee invisibly, trying to detect stranded refugee groups. At first, he tried to rescue them himself, but he found it much more efficient to radiate his findings through the Blood Link and let the Amazons escort them to camp.

He started his rounds at 6: 00 a. m. By 11: 00 a. m., he was pretty sure that there were no more people to be rescued in the zone controlled by the Circle. He contacted Jenna, but she was busy.

"This is going to take long, Billy, much longer than I thought. I don't think we will finish before 5: 00 pm," she said. Perfect. That gave him six hours to spy on the Answer. An invisible glider equipped with sensors, piloted by a master of stealth? If he could not find information without being detected, no one could. He was not overconfident, though—he kept his distance, trying not to overfly large concentrations of zealots. He knew nothing about their powers, really.

He could not be completely sure they had no way of sensing his presence. Two hours later, he had gathered quite a lot of useful info. Zealots seemed the soul and mind of the Answer. They were few, perhaps no more than one in a hundred followers, but they were easy to pick out—they walked proudly, with a perennial smile on their faces. They almost never spoke, and then, only when addressing a non-zealot. Interesting. Perhaps zealots shared some kind of group telepathy, much as the Babylonians did?

They usually walked alone or in small groups with other zealots. The rest of the followers gave them a wide berth. Non-zealots gathered in small groups, walked hunched, as if trying not to draw much attention, and spoke among themselves in whispers. The glider's sensors were powerful enough to pick up those snippets of conversation. … not as cold as yesterday, praise Mary Beth… … she has not eaten since yesterday, perhaps we could ask Hannah for some food… … Mary Beth, guide my steps, Mary Beth, illuminate me…

Mary Beth was almost constantly praised and venerated. But Billy was not fooled. Lawman was, before all, a detective, and he was good at finding what made people tick. -Profiling x4: Lawman makes a Mind against Mind attack against a person he has previously investigated or met before. The enemy need not be present, and Lawman ignores the attack's results. If successful, he can divine the target's plans. Complex plans may need several activations. If the attack fails, Lawman will get false information.

Reading the room was child's play. These people did not pray out of faith or respect. They were terrified. They threw prayers at Mary Beth like one would throw a steak to a rabid Doberman. The zealots lived together in large residential buildings that were transformed into churches for Mary Beth. The rest of the followers lived in their own homes. There were two large tent camps, separated from the rest of the town by a barbed-wire fence. Zealots took captured Federation soldiers to the one on the right.

The left was occupied by children and the elderly. Children and the elderly? What did they have in common? Dignity was more than seventy years old when she got the system—she now looks in her thirties, Billy suddenly realized. There were plenty of elderly people still around, but they no longer looked it. These were not any elders—they were the systemless. The same reasoning could be applied to the kids: the Teaching Competency would not activate the System on anyone under 14. What were they doing?

What exactly was the Answer? One hour later, he struck gold. Two zealots smiled their way back from camp, taking two prisoners with them. One was a Federation soldier, his hands tied behind his back. The other was a ten-year-old. Billy watched the group from his aerial hiding-place. He was determined to rescue them both. The quartet walked at a leisurely pace towards the Circle-controlled zone. They seemed to be looking for something—a tropical patch of vegetation in the middle of Milwaukee. Damned idiots!

They were walking right into the midst of an inverted dungeon, a low-level one, probably only rank one, but dangerous nonetheless. Suddenly, the ground erupted in front of the group, and a giant man-eating flower surged from it. Billy swore as he dove with the glider. His carelessness was going to cost the hostages their lives. Before he could intervene, one of the zealots pointed at the flower, and it erupted in flames. The dungeon began to shimmer—it was an only-core dungeon.

Removing its only anchor to reality had effectively destroyed it. The dungeon vanished without releasing a single drop of Essence. Bill altered the glider's trajectory, making it rise into the air. The command screen, still focused on the group, showed the ten-year-old shaking and falling to the ground. When he rose, he had the same creepy smile all the zealots had. Billy swore. That was how they created new zealots. A systemless human had to be present when one zealot destroyed a dungeon.

The man-eating flower was the dungeon's sole boss—its death had been used to transform the boy. Everything about it looked fishy to Billy. He knew they were being fooled, but he could not understand how. Suddenly, the three zealots stood up, as if hearing a voice only they could perceive. They marched at a brisk pace, jerking the Fed hostage behind them. Billy followed on his glider. Thirty minutes later, they reached a clearing and stood waiting.

A disheveled and dirty woman suddenly appeared at the other end of the clearing. She was being pursued by a flock of ravens, which readily transformed into another zealot, the fourth one. Billy immediately recognized her—she was Dawn. What the hell was she doing here? He ejected from the glider and dove towards the group. They were all praising Mary Beth as Dawn sank down to her knees and started to weep. He was not going to get a better chance: I AM LAWMAN!

Class Perk: When you say your signature phrase, it triggers a subtle Spirit attack that inflicts a 20% debuff to all stats of opponents who fail to resist. If Lawman announces himself with his signature phrase to an enemy who is unaware of his presence, the initial attack receives a 20% boost to Spirit. The leader was turning around when Billy's right foot contacted the zealot's face at more than 100 miles per hour.

The impact was so great that it sent him crashing into a nearby abandoned car, crushing its metal frame like an egg. The stricken zealot rose, hurt, but not down. Gone was any doubt about their supernatural nature. Billy jumped into action—the trick with Lawman was never to stop hitting. How can he move so fast? x3: Each time Lawman makes an attack, all other members of the same group within 20 feet have a 30% chance of suffering a similar attack.

Lawman can finish the maneuver at the position of any of the hit targets. He jumped toward a zealot with a bushy beard, landing a flying kick to the middle of his chest. The impact threw the zealot backward, and Billy did a backflip, ending with his fist in the face of a middle-aged woman. He grabbed her by the ankles as she fell, throwing her towards the zealot leader before she could recover. He felt something grabbing him and looked down, watching as grass tendrils grabbed his ankles. The kid had plant powers.

Not good, he needed mobility. He threw a smoke bomb at his feet. Gadget x5: Create one small tech item that duplicates the effect of any rank 4 ability, as long as it is used for combat, infiltration, or investigation. The gadget only works for one minute, or until a new gadget is created, whichever comes first. Lawman can create a new gadget every thirty seconds. Creating a gadget with a function similar to one created within the last hour has a -2 rank conversion penalty.

When the smoke cleared, he was no longer there. Where has he gone? x2: Once per ten minutes, Lawman can teleport to any place where he has been for the past ten minutes, as long as no one watches him leave or arrive. Even a momentary loss of visual contact is enough to trigger the power.

"Where is that clown?" the kid asked, peering through the smoke." HERE," answered Lawman, clocking him one. Rabbit Punch x 3: When Lawman attacks an opponent who is unaware of his presence, his Body is effectively doubled. If the opponent knows Lawman is nearby but cannot see him, the Body bonus is reduced to 50%. A Rabbit Punch will never result in death or permanent injury. The kid fell unconscious to the ground.

The rest of the zealots were already recovering—they were at least the equivalent of level 25 Avatars. The bearded fellow roared as his body grew larger and more bestial, his claws lengthening as he approached Billy. The woman was shooting fireballs at the vigilante, who dodged them as if he were playing dodgeball against a three-year-old. The leader had transformed into a pack of rabid dogs, which jumped on Billy. Not only ravens, then—any kind of swarm, he thought.

Billy conjured a new gadget, a whistle he blew, disorienting the dogs, who howled in pain. They transformed back into the leader, now holding both hands over his ears. The werewolf swiped his claws, once, twice, thrice… Billy dodged them with the grace of a ballet dancer. On the fourth strike, he grabbed the arm and turned the beast's own strength against him, throwing him on top of the woman who was readying a new fireball. They were just in front of the shuttered window of a long-abandoned business. Perfect.

He sent a mental order to his glider. The machine flew over them, the pilot's cockpit becoming pitch-black as it approached. He struck a vital point in the throat of the leader, paralyzing him, grabbed him over his shoulder, and charged with his full strength at the other two zealots, who were still trying to regain their footing. The four crashed through the shuttered window, falling into the darkened shop.

Unseen Passage x4: Once every thirty seconds, Lawman can stealthily teleport to any target within sight, provided that both ends are covered in shadows. He can take others with him. No. Not into the shop. The four fell into a cramped, dark space. Lawman continued to batter them, as if Bruce Lee had made a cameo in the Stateroom Scene in A Night at the Opera. Gravity started to do weird things. Up was down, and down was up, constantly changing.

The leader tried to punch Lawman, but his fist struck a cold, glass surface. What was this? Weren't they supposed to be inside a shop? Where had all the room gone? Why did gravity behave like this? Suddenly, he understood.

"He has teleported us into the bloody glider. We are in the cabin of the plane. It is in mid-air and without a pilot. We are going to crash!" But Lawman was no longer there. He exited through the shop window, just in time to see the glider crash into the ground, turning into a ball of fire." I GUESS WE WALK," he said. They walked. Two hours later, the zealot kid woke up. They had not finished him. They had held him defenseless, then simply let him go. Why? He had a hard time understanding how things worked.

Was it because this body was not yet fully grown? Could it be so simple? The boy smiled, his cold, cruel, mirthless smile. The day had not been a total loss.