Chương 137: 50 - MONANLAND

Despite everyone's skepticism, Monan stuck to his word, giving them free rein over Graceland. He never enforced the Monanland moniker. But the Gracelandians, on his command, were actively seeking out T'balt and Tyene for instructions on what to do in the city. It was a little surreal. In their minds, the Redeemers were extensions of Uriel, so whenever one of them gave a command, they would extend praise to the Bestower. And even more people went to the statue to pray since his body was still there.

He was still alive, of course, but he mostly stayed unresponsive. Still, they were a faithful group, mostly friendly besides a few deviants. They didn't get into nefarious things like that sketchy saloon as long as there were clear rules about it. But most importantly, they were hard workers. They had to be to build this whole city in a matter of weeks, even with the added benefit of loot. T'balt watched a group of men construct an entire house in less than an hour.

One of them created a floor plan while the others built and molded the walls of white stone. They were building it under his instruction. Ellie had pointed out that the entire city had only one medical building for a place so large, so they were constructing a second. It was fun in that way, kind of like playing a city builder game.

"We could probably do this even faster if we had more builders," T'balt said. Uriel's assistant David was looming over him, holding a notepad.

"But more builders take away from other essential roles."

"Well, since we have the loot thief, a role change can be temporary. Some people can build some days and cook others."

"Understood," the tall man said.

"I go to pray for more builder loot."

"Huh?" Oh right," He remembered. One of the things that kept the Gracelandians so readily in line was Uriel's loot, the Bestower. He wasn't completely inactive up there. People still went to ask him for certain powers when they needed them. Then shortly after, a piece of loot would fall from the sky. It must've been like a magical shrine to them.

"Even now they still treat him like a God," he thought. Tyene found him shortly after David left. She was in a sour mood. But she had been since they arrived.

"What exactly are you doing?" She asked.

"I'm making sure this place is livable. It'd be hard to stay here if it was in as bad of shape as it was when I first saw it. And since Uriel's up there, it's up to us to make this place the Looter's Paradise." His answer didn't look like it satisfied her at all.

"Don't you think you might be putting the cart before the horse here? None of that will matter if Corlander gets his way."

"We've still got time. Last time, it was about a month and a half before Corlander attacked, which means we have a little under a month to deal with him. If we don't do some housekeeping, Graceland will go to waste regardless, and I won't have people making slaves in a city I'm in charge of."

"Why don't we just figure out how to beat him now and figure out Uriel's shit next life?" He sighed, "Do you have something in mind?" She shrugged.

"I'm working on it. Mainly I need a way to get someone close enough to him to pull the Collector out of his neck before he can react. But it's that part that always gets me killed. The bastard always has a reaction loot or some scanner so he sees the Loot Thief coming from a mile away." He considered for a moment.

"I wonder what happened in the lives when Uriel considered this place perfect."

"Corlander didn't attack then, if that's what you're thinking. At least not when I was here."

"So then Uriel must've stopped him somehow, right?"

"You're right. He must've. Do you think he killed him?" He could hear the sudden excitement in her voice.

"There's only one way to know, but he's already made it clear that he isn't going to tell us how to win here. He's stuck in his penance." She groaned.

"Then screw that guy. We'll figure it out without him."

"What about Monan? He's known Uriel a while. Do you think he knows?" As soon as he said the name, Tyene's expression grew even more sour than it already was.

"I'm not asking that guy for help either. I'm surprised you even stomach him considering you were one of his victims too."

"It's not like it makes me comfortable. But since he's shown up again, I can't point to anything that he's done wrong. And fighting him would likely bring more problems than it's worth. So at this point, we might as well use him, right?" She gritted her teeth.

"Are you sure you dealt with him before? His whole thing is waiting till you feel comfortable, then doing something fucked up just to make fun of you for letting your guard down." If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Yes… I dealt with him." It was the first time that T'balt felt himself getting angry with Tyene. He wasn't trying to make an argument, but he wasn't going to let her downplay what he went through. Since they'd been together, it was something he was morbidly curious about, but it was always a topic both of them generally wanted to stay away from. But since Monan was here now, it seemed they couldn't avoid it.

"Then tell me. What did he do to you?" she asked, staring at him.

"It's… probably not something worth going over." She raised her chin.

"I told you my life story... now you wanna play shy?" She was clearly being pissy with him, which he hated, but she was somewhat right. She was an open book with him about anything he asked. It wouldn't have been right if he didn't return the favor. And he had to admit that he was curious about her own experience with Monan. So reluctantly, he found a quiet space to talk for a while.

And as T'balt recounted the story of his war with Monan, he watched Tyene's expression get angrier and angrier the further it went on. Until she started yelling expletives, and eventually marching away. The door to the library bashed open as Tyene stomped down the stairs, straight to Monan, who was sitting back on the couch, still shirtless. He raised an eyebrow as T'balt chased her down.

"Monan!" She seethed. He was lying on the couch, looking like he had just woken up from a nap. She stormed up to him, grabbing him by one of the chains around his neck.

"How fucking dare you take it easy on the new guy!?"

"What? Take it easy…" T'balt was perplexed to say the least. Monan traded glances between them, mentally catching up to what she was referring to. Then he immediately burst out laughing.

"To be honest, I was drunk for most of it, and I felt bad since the kid didn't remember anything. So I gave him a handicap and only used the loot in the area. But don't take anything away from him. He beat me fair and square."

"A handicap?" T'balt couldn't help but feel offended. Monan teleported next to him.

"Yeah, there's some shit out there that'll really fuck with your mind." he then appeared on the other side of him.

"But you were already pretty fragile."

"Sounds like you were already pretty lazy." Tyene mouthed off. He teleported in front of her.

"You're just mad cuz it took you over a hundred tries, even with your bodyguard."

"Fuck you."

"You'll get over it one day. Uri did."

"Maybe, but that day isn't today." She pointed to T'balt.

"Give me the Loot Thief."

"What? Why?" he asked.

"Cuz I hate the idea of this guy walking around with the Wanderer. He doesn't need the power to appear wherever he wants. Thinking about it makes my skin crawl. Plus he's only using it to be a dick." Monan frowned.

"Come on. You're a bigger buzzkill than T, here."

"You want me to tolerate your being here, then this is the price. You only get loot that we approve of beforehand. Otherwise there's no way I'm staying here with you." He suddenly looked like the conversation was boring him. Then he held eye contact with Tyene, who wasn't backing down any time soon. He moved the long hair from the back of his neck, exposing the Wanderer stamp. Tyene took the Loot Thief from T'balt and snatched the Wanderer.

Before anyone else could say anything, she stormed back out the door, looking even more annoyed than when she entered. That left T'balt and Monan standing there alone. They glanced at each other. And the question was now burning in T'balt's brain.

"What did you do to her?" Monan just smiled and laid back down to finish his nap. German Casas had been an employee of Mitas Corlander all of his life, he remembered. There were few things in this world that filled him with the dangerous toxin known as pride. His work ethic was one of them. It brought him from a personal assistant to a promise of the seat as vice chairman once he turned 40. Years and years of dedication to one man had grown into the fruit of his labor.

He would have the salary, the title, and even the wife. But none of it ever came to fruition. Instead, they were greeted with an alien meteor shower that scorched the earth with demons and magical powers. They were out of the office on business. Corlander was meeting someone in secret. Not that German ever pried, but it was one of those excursions that even he, who handled Corlander's day-to-day affairs, couldn't know about. German was preparing for a gala involving all their partners.

He had spent a day getting it prepared for a weekend event. All the who's who in the industry were going to be there. He wouldn't have figured that those preparations would turn into the Hunter's Club and that Corlander would decide to make this place where they would ride out the storm. He often thought the only reason he was alive was Corlander. He had the mercenaries, the mansion, the protected walls to hide them from the demon outbreak.

He felt comfortable saying he owed the man his life for allowing him to be a part of his. And the man himself had taught him that nothing meant more than a debt. It was an unspoken promise to pay back what one had received. And one couldn't do business with someone who didn't fulfill their promises. It was one of the things he respected most about his boss. He knew that when he promised German that he would inherit Corlander Automotive, the man would do everything in his power to make sure that happened.

He wondered what that meant now. How many promises would he be able to keep now that so many things had changed? There was one promise that he had found himself longing for the most. His marriage to Tyene. Even though neither had the choice in the matter, she was the only being in the world as tied to Corlander as he was. But she had escaped him. Finally freed like she always wanted to be. He assumed that he'd never see her again and tried to accept that.

Then he received a letter, stuck inside a tree that she somehow knew he would see. She was vague about where she had been and how she had survived. But she still wrote him, despite her clear hatred for Corlander. He'd received one every day for the past three days. Today he wanted to leave one back. He wanted to tell her that he missed her. However, he couldn't abandon his promises to Corlander or his debts.

But if he were ever to be released, he would come find her, and maybe that might make an attempt at being happy together. But he was never the poetic type. He only ever wrote in numbers and facts. The words he wrote down looked mangled and jumbled to him, as if he were suddenly afflicted with dyslexia. German stood at the tree with his letter in his hand and decided not to leave it. But when he turned to go, he heard her voice.

"Hey there, slick." Tyene Demue stepped from behind the tree, with her red hair and a sad smile.