Chương 16: Book 1: Chapter 6 - The Favor [Part 4]

Another level up, another strengthening of his personal power. What was of note was that with him having objectives on partial, or failed, his rewards upon going up a level had been reduced. The system was basically telling him to do better, so he could do better. Pretending to count the coins, he instead assigned his points. He slammed two points into Body, because that was always the safest bet. Then he put a single point both in Mind and Spirit on a whim and because it felt balanced.

The two skill points were not for balance, and put both points into Swords because specialization was a thing. Their next visitor was the shrine priest. He had changed into fresh robes but still looked uneasy, still carrying the memories of the forest on him. In his hands were two small charms wrapped in paper and tied with red and white cord. He gave one to Tarō and one to Shimon.

"Wear this close," he said.

"Do not open it. Do not boast of what you killed. Do not speak their number after midnight. If you dream of teeth, wake and wash your hands with salt water." Shimon went as still as a mouse, and the priest's mouth tightened as he looked at him.

"Yōma have siblings. Not always by blood. Not as men understand it. Hunger recognizes hunger. The dead may leave echoes." Ayanokouji thought of the strange eye again and now the paper charm felt warm in his palm.

"Will this stop them?" he asked. The priest hesitated for the smallest possible moment.

"No," he explained.

"But it may make them look elsewhere first." Shimon appreciated the honesty even as he hated the content of the holy man's words. He tied the charm inside his clothing, close to his chest, because every superstition in this world he suspected was practical advice. At last, after that, they were left alone. The room was simple but clean. Tatami under them. Sliding doors on one side leading to a narrow veranda. A painted screen in one corner and two futons laid out in the center. Tarō lay down first.

He did not undress fully, and neither did Shimon. Both kept their swords within reach, that was not discussed. It did not need to be. Nor was the slight tremor in Tarō's hands. For a while, Shimon lay on his back and listened, letting the sounds of the inn breathe around him. Wood creaked, somewhere distant, water was poured, and somewhere else a servant walked softly along a corridor. Outside, civilization settled into the night, the occasional bark of a dog the only real disturbance.

Despite his recent trauma, Tarō's breathing eventually deepened, but Shimon remained fast awake. He checked the chip again: no network, no company channel, and no convenient emergency protocols, unknown carrier signal intermittent, and the spiritual mark still undefined. He checked his status again, closed it, and thought about the mechanics of the system, his mind mulling over it.

"What do you want?" he whispered silently into the dark behind his own thoughts. Nothing answered, and nothing continued to answer as exhaustion eventually took him. But, it was a restless sleep and he woke in the middle of the night with the chip screaming silently across his vision. [WARNING] Hostile Presence Approaching. Shimon's eyes opened. And, for a moment he did not move. The room was dark, lit only by weak moonlight leaking through the paper doors.

Tarō slept on the next futon, one arm thrown across his chest, mouth slightly open as his sword lay beside him. [WARNING] Hostile Presence: Close. Direction: East / Veranda side. Movement: Rapid. Auditory detection confirmed. The side door slid open and wind entered the room, cold and sudden. Before Shimon could sit up, something landed on his chest and a weight pressed him into the futon with awful intimacy. Knees, perhaps, or hands, or something shaped like them. His ribs compressed and his breath stopped.

He could see only the ceiling beams above him and the pale rectangle of the opened door beyond the edge of his vision. There was nothing on top of him, at least nothing he could see at least. And his treacherous body refused to move. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. This was not the paralytic of fear. He knew fear now, and had become unpleasantly familiar with its many textures. This was, he knew, quite different. His arms lay beside him, useless. His legs would not answer.

His jaw was locked and his tongue was thick and dead in his mouth. He tried to scream.

"Mmmmmm!" was all the sound that barely escaped his sealed lips. Tarō slept on.

"Mmmmmm!" The invisible weight leaned closer as if annoyed by the attempt. The air above his face bent slightly, as if heat shimmered there, though the room had gone cold. A smell came with it, something like the inside of a sealed box opened after a hundred years. Then the voice spoke. Do not be afraid. Shimon's eyes strained so wide they hurt. That instruction, he thought wildly, had never worked in the history of fear. The weight increased a fraction, pinning him more firmly as if in gentle correction.

You are difficult to visit. The little thing in your skull bites at shadows it cannot understand. The chip flickered temperamentally. [UNKNOWN CARRIER SIGNAL] Signal Strength: Extreme Source: Non-local / Overlapping Connection Status: Forced Warning: Unauthorized neural interaction detected. Countermeasure failure. Thank you… glad that the company had not cut corners, he thought cynically as he tried to move again. The voice was warm now. Almost fond. Be still.

I did not save you to waste you by taking your life in an inn.

"Mmmmmm!" Soft amusement brushed his mind. Yes. That is the spirit. There is fire in you, though it hides beneath fear and clever little thoughts. Good. Fire is useful. The invisible thing shifted. Shimon felt pressure at his throat, not choking, merely reminding. His heart hammered so hard he thought his ribs might crack beneath the weight. Listen well, Shimon Ayanokouji. Hearing his full name inside that voice was worse than pain. I am your friend. No, Shimon thought with every remaining piece of himself.

No, you are most certainly not. The thing ignored the thought or enjoyed it. I take care of those I choose. I raise them. I polish them. I place them where they may grow sharper still. Those I choose, Ayanokouji focused on, the words landing like a collar around his neck. You will go before the lord of this castle. You will enter his service. You will let them name you brave, useful, strange, blessed, cursed—whatever small words men require. Shimon tried to shake his head, but his head did not move.

You will become a hunter of yōma. A fine role. A necessary role. Men will fear you and praise you. Priests will mutter. Lords will reward. Enemies will reveal themselves. You will gain renown, strength, and wealth. The orange screen opened in his vision. [QUEST RECEIVED] Go Into Service With The Local Lord Issuer: Unknown Patron Objective: Enter the service of the castle lord. Objective: Become recognized as a yōma hunter.

Reward: Patronage, Reputation, Advancement Path Failure: Displeasure of Unknown Patron Accept? Shimon stared at the final line, " Failure: Displeasure of Unknown Patron," and shuddered. That was not a failure condition. That was a threat. The voice lowered, intimate as a whisper against his ear. And when I ask a favor, little lightning blade, you will do it. Suddenly, the invisible weight lifted. [CONNECTION LOST] Unknown Carrier Signal: Low Hostile Presence: No longer detected Motor control returning...

Shimon sucked in air through his teeth. Then, he sat bolt upright, gasping, his hands flying to his throat, chest, face. His lips worked, his tongue moved, and his body was his again. Just a bad dream, he rationalized to himself, but the side doors to the room stood open. Cold night wind poured in, stirring the paper charm tied inside his clothing. Moonlight lay across the tatami in pale strips. Tarō woke with a strangled sound and rolled toward his sword.

"What—?" Wind snapped through the room as Tarō stared at the open doors, then at Shimon, who sat drenched in sweat and shaking so hard his teeth clicked.

"What happened?" Tarō demanded. Shimon tried to answer, but for a moment, all he could hear was the voice. When I ask a favor, you will do it. The orange screen waited in the corner of his vision with a simple demand for him to "Accept." Shimon looked at the open doors and the darkness beyond them. He was not merely lost anymore. He had been recruited.