Chương 102: 15 - LAWS OF MAN

"What the hell is your problem, man!?" The man on the ground spat at him through two missing front teeth. T'balt had his forearm pressed against his throat, holding the God Slayer Sword in the other. The other men in the place were armed and ready to defend their host, but were halted still by five glowing, floating bows, a bulky wrestler, and a kid making all their furniture levitate. Though they were all looted themselves and they heavily outnumbered them, the men stood down.

These powers they weren't willing to deal with, so a few of them ran out while the rest slowly backed out of the building, leaving the man to fend for himself. Once they were gone, Cannon grabbed the chain around Lila Bloom's neck and snapped it easily. Gently, he helped the woman up from the ground.

"Hey, hey. That's mine. You can't steal a man's property!" The man on the ground squirmed. T'balt pressed harder.

"I know the world's gone to shit, but that doesn't give you the right to make this woman a slave." The man broke into a greasy laughter.

"What kind of fuckin rights are you talking about? The rights of this city say that what I own I own. And ain't nobody taking it away from me." Cannon sat Bloom down on a wooden stool.

"It's alright now," he reached for the brace around her neck that was hooking the chain to her. But when he did, she grabbed at it, protecting it with her hands.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was depleted, like she desperately needed water.

"I don't want to make anything worse for anyone."

"What do you mean?" Cannon asked. That was when a bunch of people burst through the front of the building, filling the room around them.

"Graceland Police!" One of them shouted.

"Stand down and come peacefully!" Though none of them looked like any sort of police. They were in the same tattered, unwashed clothes that the rest of the people of this city were in. The only difference was the set of black vests with a piece of tape in the front with the word "police" chalked in white letters. Again, he couldn't help but compare things to the Hunter's mansion and their uniformed armed guards. Still, he stood up, releasing the man from his grasp.

The man grabbed his throat, coughing to catch his breath.

"It's them! They're the ones that ruined my show!" He pointed.

"You four are under arrest!" the lead policeman shouted. It was an older man with the posture of someone who might've been an actual policeman before.

"Get down on the ground, now!"

"What do you wanna do?" Ellie whispered. T'balt knew he didn't want to make this a bigger mess than it already was. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that they could grab Lila and fight their way out of here, but that would likely turn this into the "saving a singer" iteration rather than the "finding a Redeemer" one. And overall, he was curious as to what kind of backward logic led a place called Paradise to have laws allowing for slavery.

In his mind, the best course of action was to go with them, see what they had to say, and if things got bad, escape from there. If that wasn't an option, then he'd have to try again in another month and a half.

"Let's be compliant for now," he told the others.

"And see what they have to say for themselves." But before he got on the ground as they commanded, he approached Lila Bloom, still shivering but slightly warmed by Cannon's coat.

"We'll come find you." She lightly took his hand in hers. That's when he realized how aged she was. Despite the youth in her face, she couldn't hide her wisdom in her hands. Mid forties, most likely.

"I'll be alright. Just take care of yourselves." That's when one of the policemen kicked him in the back of the knee. He felt it coming with his reflex loot but chose not to fight it. Instead, he let them handcuff him and take them to wherever they put their prisoners. It turned out to be a flat building somewhere on the east side of the city. It continued the trend of everything being made of the same white stone, even the bars of their jail cell. A stone-looted man raised the bars upon their arrival.

They tossed all four of them in the same one, and they weren't gentle about it. Then it was closed.

"Our chief will be back to interrogate you soon." The man said, walking away. There was barely any light in the room.

"Uhh, T'balt," Cannon was laughing to himself.

"I uhh… broke my handcuffs." He lifted his hands to show that he was, in fact, free of them, the chain holding them together being shattered. T'balt sighed, "Try not to tell them that when they come back in here." Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

"It isn't my fault. We've got magic everywhere. They're gonna need something better than some dollar store handcuffs to hold people." Acelin broke out of his, too, bringing the chain down under his feet and telekinetically breaking it.

"Do you mind?" Ellie presented hers to the boy for him to do the same.

"Come on, guys," T'balt said.

"Can you at least pretend to be captives?"

"Not when I've done nothing wrong," Ellie said.

"And the security is so bad."

"These cops kinda suck," Acelin said, stretching his arm across his chest.

"So when do we break out?" They did have a point. These cuffs and bars would hardly keep anyone locked down in the old world, let alone the loot-filled one. Everything about these police felt lazily put together. It wasn't a wonder that this city looked so run-down. He almost felt bad for them… well, he would've if they didn't allow people like Lila to be abused like that in public.

"Listen. I just want to see if there's a way out of this without becoming fugitives of some sort. Since this place seems so loose with their rules, maybe we'll just get a slap on the wrist."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that one," Ellie gestured at the small army of police coming to invade their cell. There were about 15 men and women, all in those same taped-together police vests. When they came, the others hid their hands behind their backs as if they were still cuffed. Except for T'balt, who didn't bother breaking out of his. Two of them stood out in front, a man and woman, whispering to each other. The man heard her words and looked at them.

"I know our bracelets leave a lot to be desired, but if you're not gonna wear them, then at least sit your asses in the middle of the floor so we don't start no problems." The man had an old Western accent. T'balt regretted not asking Acelin to break his too, since their hosts were gonna be so cool about it. They did as he said, sitting in a bunched-up circle in the room as the police surrounded them.

"Is this the kind of manpower you usually need to interrogate people in a bar fight?" T'balt asked the leading man. He listened to another whisper from the woman next to him before saying, "I don't give a damn about no bar fight. You lot are stowaways. See, no one here's ever seen you before. No one at the bar neither. Which means you don't belong here. And the only way you could get in here is if you had some help. Tell the truth now. You all are Corlander spies."

"Spies?" T'balt asked. The man ignored him, instead listening to his advisor again.

"Mm.. so that's the deal of it. You did come here with Corlander's help. But what's this about a deal, and what the hell is a Redeemer?" The more the man talked, the more he realized he was just talking around them and not to them. But his information was weirdly accurate. The only way he could know that was… He looked at the woman, who turned her eyes as if that turned her invisible.

"You've got a telepathic loot, don't you?" That's when the main one snapped, "Now don't you talk to her. I'm your interrogator, damn it! Now I don't care who you y'all are, but if you think you'll be allowed another step in this city so Corlander can get at our Bestower again, then you—" He was interrupted by the sound of a metal canister hitting the floor and gas spraying in the room. There was a sharp chemical smell attached to it. When they smelled it, all of their eyes started to glaze over in unison.

Then 14 bodies hit the floor. T'balt tried to keep awake. He didn't have any loot to defend against the gas. He tried to cover his mouth, but he was still cuffed. Not that it would've helped. Acelin fell over, and then Ellie, and then Cannon.

"What the hell is this…" he muttered before his eyes turned to a black blur. But before that happened, he saw one of the policewomen affix a gas mask to her face, looking down on him. They awoke imprisoned. Not the same prison. This one felt more like a dungeon, deep underground. Nothing but plain walls on all sides of them and a small light protected by a glass case, brightness flickering.

"Hey, wake up." Cannon rocked T'balt's shoulders until he came to.

"What happened? Where are we?" The others looked just as disoriented as he did. But they weren't surrounded by police anymore. It was just them and one other. The woman with the gas mask. She was standing straight, hands behind her back, wearing a violet track jacket and black yoga pants. It looked far too casual, considering the gas mask and the serious expression they could see in her eyes. She had short black hair, cut far too finely by the ears for someone in an apocalypse.

Her posture was stiff as a telephone pole, like someone with a strict military background, which made the casual clothes even more off-putting.

"What's the meaning of this?" T'balt asked her. She said bluntly, "You've been placed in a place to better confine you, where I might be able to question you personally." She said it in a blunt monotone. In a strange way, her manner of speech reminded them of German. Cannon scoffed, standing up.

"I'm getting tired of you people. Sorry, T'balt, but I'm not putting up with this mess. If you want to ask questions, then ask questions. But if you think you can knock us out and expect to stay in your crappy little lockup—" BANG! A muzzle flash went off, and Cannon dropped to the ground, leaving them all shocked. He started yelling, grabbing onto his foot, yelling for the pain to stop. The masked woman held a pistol in her hand, the muzzle still smoking.

"I think you'll find I'm a little old-fashioned when it comes to interrogations. I prefer the old tools over the new."

"Hold on," Ellie called, running over to heal Cannon's foot, a gunshot fresh inside it. But when she put her hands over it, it didn't glow. In fact, nothing happened at all.

"What's going on here? I can't use my loot." Acelin snapped his fingers.

"I can't use my loot either." T'balt squinted his eyes. His first thought was to summon his sword, but when he tried, nothing came. He felt the back of his neck, feeling for the scar tissue of the tattoos, but they were gone. He only had the one.

"What did you do?" he stepped towards the woman. He stopped when she pointed the gun at him, with a look similar to boredom in her eyes.

"I want my questions answered first."

"Listen, we don't have anything to do with Mitas Corlander. He helped us here, yes, but we don't work for him." She sighed.

"I'm not worried about your association with Mitas Corlander. No. What I want to know is if you were sent here by Monan Ryker."