Chương 163: Chapter 162: After Party

Meno slapped himself hard across the face in an attempt to clear his head. It accomplished almost nothing beyond making several nearby people glance over, decide PrayerBeadGod had finally crossed from drunk into completely gone, and return to whatever they were doing. That was a serious issue, although for some reason, the thought made Meno chuckle, which did even less for the image he was trying to project.

His brain kept trying to drag him back toward the Celeste disaster, the platinum hair, the missing shirt, and the enormous Chain break, but that was irrelevant now. Three military-looking guards had vanished from a room they were supposed to be protecting, and one equipment bag was sitting unattended beside a bar. Maybe nothing had happened. Maybe there was some harmless explanation that would make him look like a drunk idiot in ten minutes, and Meno could live with that.

What he could not live with was realizing afterward that something had gone wrong, he had noticed the warning sign, and then he had sat on a sofa doing nothing. He pushed himself upright.

"Brine, come with me. Girls, you stay here, okay? Don't move." Rina lifted one hand in vague acknowledgment.

"Okkii." Celeste interpreted the request very differently. She stood immediately, put both hands against Meno, and pushed him back onto the sofa before he could take a step.

"Don't." Meno bounced off the cushion, gathered his balance, and stood again with considerably less stability than he intended.

"Relax. Brine, come. This is big." BrineSaint remained seated long enough to assess him properly.

"How big? You are very drunk. What are you trying to drag me into?" Meno forced every available part of his face into maximum seriousness. The result was probably somewhere around 50% convincing, but BrineSaint's expression changed enough to show that he had finally realized this was not another Honeyjuice-induced joke. Celeste moved to follow, but Meno raised one hand in front of her. There was no room for drama. If she came with them, she would be a major distraction.

"Rina, please keep her here." Rina took the assignment with far too much enthusiasm. She lurched across the gap, wrapped both arms around Celeste, and tackled her sideways onto the opposite couch while giggling. Meno used the opening, catching BrineSaint by the arm and pulling him into the crowd before either woman could untangle herself. They disappeared between groups of dancers, weaving away from the sofa until Meno could no longer see Rina's pink hair through the lights.

BrineSaint followed with growing suspicion.

"Where are we going?"

"One sec. I need to recruit." Meno needed people who were competent under pressure and sober enough to remain useful. Then he spotted Kestrel. The Crownfall leader stood in a quieter section near the atrium wall talking with a man whose long dreadlocks fell over an expensive jacket. Neither looked particularly drunk, and as much as Meno hated admitting it, Kestrel knew how to operate when things went wrong.

They approached, and Kestrel broke off his conversation as soon as he noticed them, squinting at Meno's bare torso.

"Why are you half-naked?"

"I need you to come with me. This is serious." Meno pointed toward the man beside Kestrel.

"Who is this guy?"

"I don't think so. You look like you are out of your mind." Kestrel glanced toward BrineSaint instead, raising his eyebrows as if asking whether there was an adult present.

"Don't look at me. I have no clue what this is about either," BrineSaint said. The man with dreadlocks stepped into the opening, clearly waiting all night for a proper introduction.

"Hello, guys. I am Patro the Solo King. Number one player who has never been in a guild. Never carried, never joined a party. I am the best." He turned toward Kestrel like the next sentence had been prepared for a much larger audience.

"I will not join Crownfall." Meno liked him immediately. The speech almost made him laugh, but laughing now would ruin what little credibility he had managed to build.

"You are at a party right now, so that's a fail already. Clearly joined." Patro gave him a wounded smile.

"Funny. Very funny." Meno realized he had been sidetracked again.

"Anyway, irrelevant. I need both of you guys to come with me. I'll explain. Seriously, it's not good." Nobody moved, so he stepped closer and lowered his voice. The music was loud enough to cover them, but the room contained hundreds of drunk creators, and it only took one person overhearing the wrong sentence before somebody decided to shout it across the atrium for content.

"Come closer. Look, I came here with three security guards. High-tier, not commercial event security. Military for sure. Each carried an extension pack." Meno pointed toward the nearby bar, where the black bag still sat against the wall. That changed things. Kestrel's irritation weakened as all three men followed Meno's gesture.

"The thing is, they were supposed to stay here protecting me, but they're gone. I don't think they would leave those bags around for no reason." Patro considered the problem.

"Maybe they are taking a piss, or dinner break." If Feltforge's security team had collectively abandoned their assigned positions for a quick sandwich, Meno would have to reconsider everything he understood about reality. His high school had done a better job preventing him from smuggling energy drinks into class.

"Yeah, no. They were either called upstairs to protect someone more important, or called down as reinforcements because something is happening. I'm leaning up, because that's where the important people are. Like Morlando Felt." Kestrel's attention sharpened for entirely the wrong reason.

"He is here? I want to talk to him."

"Are you listening?"

"This is pure speculation. What exactly is an extension pack?" BrineSaint asked. Patro answered instantly.

"Something that extends their capability."

"See?" Meno pointed at him.

"He gets it."

"That doesn't mean anything." Kestrel shook his head and began turning away.

"I think I have had enough of you for one night, PBG." Meno caught the front of his black shirt before he could leave. The grab came out sloppy, but he held on and forced his voice level. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"I am not joking. I need you to stay. I am too drunk, you seem fine, and I need someone competent. Don't have time for this." Whether the seriousness worked or competent hit exactly the right part of Kestrel's ego, Meno could not tell. Either way, Kestrel removed Meno's hand from his shirt and turned back.

"Fine. What do we do?" Finally.

"You two go look for the other two packs. Must be near walls or corners. Then we meet next to the elevator, okay? Keep a low profile. If anyone asks what that is, say Crownfall merch." Kestrel gave him a long, unhappy look.

"PBG, if I get arrested for this, I will make it my life's mission to destroy you." Good. His head was finally in the game. Patro looked strangely excited for a man whose entire brand was avoiding people, and both of them checked the abandoned bag once more before splitting off toward the far side of the atrium.

"What was that with my wife back there?" BrineSaint asked. Meno did not have time for this conversation, but BrineSaint had already locked onto it, and a distracted tank was useless. Celeste had wanted him to keep quiet earlier, but that was not happening. Meno had been just as drunk, just as wrong, and just as slow to catch the mistake. Terrible timing, but clean hits were faster than dodging.

"Look, I mistook her for Rina and we danced. Are you going to crash out now?" BrineSaint's eyes narrowed.

"That's not all, is it?"

"She thought I was you, I thought I was me. I mean, I thought she was Rina." Honeyjuice still had his brain in a chokehold, so Meno slapped himself again. BrineSaint's anger remained cold and controlled, likely the only reason Meno was not already lying on the floor.

"I should be the one punching you."

"We are at a party. You should have been with her instead of sulking in the corner. I realized it too late, okay? It's nothing. Irrelevant. We won't even remember it tomorrow."

"I will."

"Let's hope that's the only thing you need to worry about. Focus, okay? You can punch me after." Meno started toward the abandoned bag before BrineSaint could continue. Walking in a straight line required far more concentration than expected. The floor kept shifting under him like a dungeon mechanic, and when one step went wrong, his mind tried to fix it. Meno jumped for Airwalk. There was no Airwalk. BrineSaint caught him under one arm before his face reached the floor.

"Pull yourself together."

"Keep thinking I'm in Veyrath for some reason. So stupid."

"For some reason? The reason is obvious." They finally reached the bag. Meno grabbed the handle, but BrineSaint pulled it from his hand and took over carrying it, which was wise. They crossed the atrium with Meno focusing on each individual step until Scuzzy emerged from the dance floor with one arm wrapped around a very sweaty Oxy. There was no universe where Meno was adding Scuzzy to this party. If the bags contained anything dangerous, he would test it on the crowd as a joke.

Scuzzy noticed the cargo immediately.

"What you guys up to? BagSaint, didn't take you for the dealer kind. Open that bag. I got the creds." Oxy managed to keep a straight face long enough to protest.

"Scuz, shut up. Don't joke about thaaat." Then she burst into laughter and buried her face against his armpit. Meno briefly wondered how she could tolerate the smell. The man's name was Disease. That could not be safe.

"It's Crownfall merch. They lost it. We're returning it." Meno pointed back toward BrineSaint's corner.

"Go back to our table. Rina and Celeste are there, and stay there until we return. If you leave, I'm kicking you both out of the guild." Oxy lifted her head.

"I am not in the guuuild now, Menooo." Scuzzy looked down at Meno's bare torso.

"Listen to the bossman. I can see his twelve-pack. I mean the place where they should be. BagSaint, visit gym more, one-pack loser." He laughed at his own joke and pulled Oxy away. Meno was glad to see them go. Listening to Scuzzy was another dungeon mechanic he had not solved yet. He and BrineSaint continued toward the elevator, taking a wide route around anyone who showed even mild interest in them. Kestrel and Patro were already waiting on the far side when they arrived, each with another black bag.

Kestrel still looked sour, while Patro looked delighted. Meno waved them toward a staff door at the back of the atrium. They carried all three bags inside and found a storage room filled with bottles, boxes of snacks, spare serving trays, and enough shelves to block them from view if somebody opened the door. Kestrel set his bag down.

"What now?" Meno ignored the question and crouched beside the nearest bag, easing it open in case something inside was rigged. The largest piece was immediately familiar. Grandpa's extraction team had carried something similar when they stormed Carl Sorell's penthouse: a large zapper, only packed in pieces.

The rest of the bag contained several small buttoned spheres, battery modules, AR glasses, a protective vest, a fist-sized camera drone, first-aid supplies, plastic restraints, a tablet with a cable, and enough earpieces for a small team.

"You weren't kidding," Kestrel said. BrineSaint looked at Meno.

"Why did you have them bring these to an event?" Patro crouched beside the open bag with immediate interest.

"Holy smokes. That's a Novatek AR-11 Disabler. Long-range taser without the clunky cables." Meno handed him the main assembly.

"Are you a crafter? Can you put it together?" Patro laughed.

"What do you take me for? I just saw it in an FPS." Kestrel rubbed one hand over his face.

"Very funny, PBG. You got us good. Now we should leave these as is." Meno pulled one of the long sections from the bag and checked the disconnected parts. Useless like this, and none of them had time to admire the craftsmanship.

"I am serious. Worst that can happen is we do this for no reason. But if we don't and something actually happens, we are finished. No respawn. Get it?" Kestrel's patience was thinning again.

"So what, we gear up and wait in ambush in this storage room? This is lunacy."

"Absolutely not. We can't let anything get near the party. We turn off the elevator and take the stairs."

"They would have turned off the elevators from a higher floor by now if you were right," BrineSaint said. That was good thinking.

"Patro. Go check if the elevator works," Meno said.

"Me? On it!" Patro charged out of the storage room and nearly collided with a staff member in the doorway.

"You can't come in here now, okay? Secret guild meeting. I will give you a big tip." Kestrel had enough presence of mind to step between the man and the gear while Meno lowered the component in his hands out of sight. The staff member looked exhausted. His salary was not high enough for this, so he turned around and left. Patro closed the door behind him. Good save. He returned about a minute later, and the jolly energy had vanished.

"Elevator is off." Kestrel pulled out his phone immediately.

"We should call the police." He tried the call, waited half a second, and his expression tightened.

"Dammit. It's not going through." BrineSaint checked his own device.

"Net is also blocked." Meno opened the second bag.

"Okay. Speed up. Everyone take a vest. We need Defense. Patro, try to put these things together." Patro took the disconnected equipment, turning the pieces over in his hands.

"Me? This is not crafting. I have no clue."

"There are only three bags. Since you're the lowest ranked, you're on tech and drone duty. Your summoner brain can't handle the dodging," Meno said. Patro nodded, then laid the components across the storage-room floor. Patro attached the barrel. Wrong way. Removed it. Dropped the battery. Found the battery. Inserted it backward. Removed it again. Forced two pieces together. They separated. Rotated one. Still wrong. Tried another slot. Jammed. Pulled harder. Something clicked. The barrel fell off.

Patro put the barrel back on, twisted the middle section, knocked the battery loose again, caught it against his leg, shoved everything together, and somehow made three separate pieces lock at once. A green light appeared. Patro lifted the assembled unit.

"Easy." Meno nodded like he had expected that outcome. BrineSaint was already putting on a protective vest. He initially managed to wear it backward, noticed something was wrong, fixed it, and added a pair of AR glasses. Meno and Kestrel followed. The vest scratched unpleasantly against Meno's bare torso, but the glasses were incredible. The moment they activated, a transparent interface settled over his vision, tagging nearby objects and feeding basic context across his field of view. Real-world UI.

Meno looked toward the wall, but the glasses did not come with wallhack. Disappointing. They divided the remaining equipment. Patro took the drones, tablet, and smaller technical gear while everyone fitted an earpiece. The little buttoned spheres remained a mystery, so Meno filled several pockets with them anyway, because unknown consumables were still consumables.

"Comms check," Patro said, tapping his earpiece.

"Can you hear it? You guys look legit. But are you planning to go out into the atrium looking like that with three disablers?" Kestrel looked down at himself in silence, and Meno could almost see the thought forming behind his eyes. Somewhere in his life, a wrong turn had led to a Streamline storage closet, high-end security gear, and a shirtless guy.

"Yes," BrineSaint said.

"I can hear you."

"I am standing right in front of you. I can't tell," Patro said. Meno adjusted his own earpiece.

"It's working. Buzzing into my ears. We put the disablers into the empty bags and dash to the stairway. Then we can discard the bags."

"Fine. Someone will notice, so let's hope they're wasted enough. I need one bag for the tablet and drones, though."

"How do we know whether to go up or down?" Kestrel asked.

"Drones," BrineSaint said, gesturing toward Patro's equipment.

"Scout both directions." That was enough of a plan to move. Patro slipped out first to check the route while the other three shoved everything back into the bags, just covered enough not to announce the zappers to the entire party. His signal came a moment later, and they burst from the storage room like three rogues with no Stealth. Meno crouched because it felt appropriate, but the Honeyjuice disagreed.

He accelerated too hard, overshot the stairwell door, and lost his balance when the floor shifted underneath him. Instinct took over at the last second; he twisted, caught one foot under himself, and turned the fall into a sloppy landing instead of eating the floor. BrineSaint and Kestrel disappeared through the stairwell, and Meno lunged after them before the door could swing shut. In Veyrath, this party would have been overpowered. Here, they were drunk idiots with zappers. Meno liked their odds anyway.