Chương 52

Kiki munched on a bag of chips she'd purchased from the gas station, her helmet tucked under an arm. The noise of her chewing was magnified by the void of sound around them. No birds chirped. No wind blew. No voices to be heard. Just them in empty suburbia. After piecing together that James had been here, Oliver had made the executive decision to investigate. Ben insisted that they continue on their way, on to the next biome. But something didn't sit right with Oliver.

Perhaps against his better judgement, he had accepted the quest offered by the gas station clerk. Usually, when he encountered a vague quest like this with a mystery reward, he'd decline it. But he thought this would be an easy one to complete. He simply needed proof that James had been responsible for the disappearance of the people in the Suburibia Biome. Simple. Though, he shuddered to think what he might find left over from the [Flesh Weaver]'s activities.

After realizing that Oliver was dead set on investigating the empty neighborhood, Ben had set his drones to a new task. Back in front of the gas station they'd left, they were meticulously repairing Kiki's armor using the spare tech hardware Kiki had purchased from the shop. It left the [Neon Samurai] without armor for a few hours, but Ben hadn't believed there to be much of a threat in this biome and Oliver was inclined to agree. Kiki appeared far smaller looking outside of her armor.

It made the two swords strapped to her back look out of place. Her normal katana wasn't too strange on her with its slick design, but the Vanquisher of Shadowspawn was bulkier. Oliver doubted she even had the ability to wield the blade without her armor boosting her strength. Not seeing a reason to stare at [Technomancer] while he repaired the armor, Oliver walked over to the pristine lawn of one of the nearby houses. Unlike some of the other houses nearby, this one had a dog house behind its picket fence.

There were signs that a dog had lived there, like a water bowl, a bit of dog shit, and a half-eaten bone. But he saw neither human or beast as he strolled across the green grass. He stepped onto the back porch and peered through the window.

"Are we looting?" Kiki asked. She dropped the empty bag of chips and wiped her hands on her black shirt. Oliver stared down at the discarded bag.

"What?"

"You're littering."

"It's not like this is a real environment. It's all artificial. Why does it matter if I litter?"

"The plants are still real," Oliver pointed out.

"Plus, you're leaving evidence that we were here. A trail someone can use to track us down." Kiki rolled her eyes. She lifted the bag with the point of her katana and tossed it into the air. As the chip bag drifted down, Kiki leaped into action. She sliced the bag hundreds of times over in a matter of seconds. The movements were so quick that Oliver struggled to follow the blade as it weaved through the air. When she finished, fingernail-sized triangles of the plastic bag drifted away.

The [Neon Samurai] crossed her arms and grinned smugly.

"That's arguably more of a trace," Oliver pointed out. Rather than listen to Kiki's pouting, Oliver turned away and opened the window. He was pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Crawling through the opening, he examined the recreational room he found himself in. Two video game consoles hooked up to a big television, controllers strewn about, bean bag chairs, trading cards, and remote-control airplanes. A teenager's paradise.

Oliver even spotted what looked like tabletop role-playing books strewn out on a table off to the side, with dice scattered around them. He remembered a childhood friend's older brother had been really into those. He'd never learned to play himself. Though, he had once stolen one of the brother's obsidian black dice. He smiled at the memory. Then he wondered if that stolen dice was still in his desk drawer back in his bedroom. The smile slipped away.

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"Cool room," Kiki said, climbing through the window after him.

"Any hints where this guy disappeared to?"

"Girl," Oliver corrected, gesturing over at a family photo on the wall. Unless the infant in the photo was really into trading cards, he suspected this room was designed around the family's daughter. Her 'Roll for Sarcasm' shirt in the photo also hinted at the room's owner's identity.

"Whatever." Kiki rolled her eyes.

"I meant 'guy' like as in person. Where'd she disappear to?"

"Still investigating," Oliver said.

"As for looting, if you see anything you want, feel free to snatch it up." He moved on from the recreational room and stepped through the door into the family's sitting room, where even more family photos clung to the walls. Since Oliver didn't immediately find anything useful or that hinted at the location of all the missing people, he passed through to the next room. A bedroom with a cradle and purple elephant wallpaper on the walls.

Something inside him cringed at the sight and he took a moment to acknowledge and dissect why he had that knee-jerk reaction to the room. It was the baby. Whatever had happened to this family, the infant likely suffered the very same fate as the rest of its family. And he doubted that everyone in the neighborhood was currently out at a big, multi-day barbecue. Especially if James was at all involved. No... he forced his mind away from the subject as he turned over to the next room.

The parents' master bedroom was nothing like the last master bedroom he'd visited. This was a very standard pre-experiment layout. Big bed with tightly tucked in sheets and a fluffy comforter, a television on the wall at the foot of the bed, a side bathroom for the occupants. All normal things. Unlike the last rooms though, Oliver didn't immediately turn away from this room. He went up to the nightstands and opened the drawers. Inside the one on the left he found magazines about cars and a handgun.

Oliver doubted it could fire silver bullets, so it was likely far less effective than his blunderbuss. Still, he tucked it into his bag. With the pistols side-by-side, he noted with a bit of disdain that it was so much less tasteful than his current weapon. The modern gun was blocky and square whereas his biome's version was elegant with its curves and the engravings on its barrel.

"When did I become a gun snob?" he muttered to himself as he shook his head.

"Point, shoot, survive. That's all that matters with these things. Otherwise just another fancy chunk of metal." The nightstand on the other side of the bed produced a wider assortment of random things. The bottom drawer he slammed shut after a mere glance inside it. He didn't want anything to do with that stuff. The top drawer, though, held a first aid kit, some chocolate covered peanuts, and, most importantly, a diary. With his Strength, Oliver snapped the tiny lock on the journal with ease.

Then he leafed through the pages, skipping to the last few entries. Nothing particularly notable happened in this woman's life. The lady had a rivalry with her daughter's high school homeroom teacher whom she suspected of her husband cheating on her with. She hated her daughter's latest boyfriend, deeming him a loser and wished her husband would stop buying their daughter more geeky stuff to fill up the recreational room with. The baby was adding additional stress on her life.

Especially since she suspected it wasn't actually her husband's.

"A lot of trust in this journal's flimsy lock," Oliver noted. Finally, he found more interesting bits of info as he turned to the final pages. Unlike the prissy and perfect cursive from before, this handwriting was a frantic scrawl with a less thought out message. A newcomer had arrived into the Suburbia biome and proclaimed himself their new overlord. The journal writer included that he'd had disgusting abominations at his heels and everyone hid from him.

Then something had emerged from beneath the elementary school. A shadow beast the size of a house. Many people were absorbed into the shadow.

"How the fuck did the gas station employee miss all of this?" Oliver wondered out loud. He figured there must be some measure in place to keep the shop keepers safe, because nothing else made any sense. Though, if that were the case, then when Ventri burned some shopkeeper would have survived the event.

"Then again, it's not like I exactly thoroughly searched the market street." It was possible there had been a surviving shop somewhere in the ashen ruins. The more he considered it, the more he thought that might very well be the case. If someone powerful went around and killed all the shopkeepers in each of the biomes, it would only hurt the experiment as a whole and make Mel useless as a reward.

He'd seen shopkeepers die in his years living in the experiment, but not the complete elimination of all of them in a biome. The one here had also been weirdly alert and normal, despite working in the gas station for over a day. The end of the journal was the woman talking about how scared she was. The last sentence though stuck out.

'Mrs. Jamie told us to go to the community center.' It was unfortunate that reading the journal hadn't been enough to fulfill the quest requirements. Still, Oliver supposed that was as good of a lead as he could ask for. He snapped the book closed and tossed it on the bed. He continued to wander, room to room, not finding anything particularly interesting. He switched out bits of his outfit that he thought matched his style well enough. New black trousers and socks were a welcome addition.

Then he stepped into the garage and, after scanning the workbench and stepping around the family's minivan, his heart missed a beat as he took in the most gorgeous beast he'd ever seen in his life. A motorcycle, unlike anything he'd ever seen, rested in the garage, facing the exit and begging him to ride.