The System Apocalypse Books 4-6: The Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG Fantasy Series

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The System Apocalypse Books 4-6: The Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG Fantasy Series Page 76

by Tao Wong


  “Kelowna’s third most valuable export. Useful for basic and medium fire resistance potions.”

  “Well, I’m sure we can discuss an increase in trade between our settlements.” I pause as I get ready to switch topics.

  “Oh, how forgetful of me. I had a gift for your visit,” Ikael says in the gap I left. He drops a small ivory-inlaid box in front of me.

  I smile slightly at the box, a memory of Mikito mentioning that elephants are no longer on the endangered species list surfacing briefly. It seems those gentle giants are no longer gentle. In fact, there are numerous zones where the Alphas are mutated elephants.

  Perhaps mistaking my smile, Ikael’s lips twitch slightly as he pushes the box to me. I take it, curiosity warring with mild disgust at the bribe. Still, I’m involuntarily impressed by what I see within.

  Ring of Greater Shielding

  Creates a greater shield that will absorb approximately 1000 points of damage. This shield will ignore all damage that does not exceed its threshold amount of 50 points of damage while still functioning.

  Max Duration: 7 Minutes

  Charges: 1

  I stare at the small box and the ring within, picking it up and turning it over. The ring itself is made of bone, a curious, almost brittle-looking bone that refuses to bend even under significant pressure. All around it are small glyphs, letters, and drawings I cannot understand. A mental prod makes Ali drag further information about the ring from the System, and my initial guess pans out. This is an Earth creation.

  “This is a very generous gift. And an amazing piece of work,” I say. “The Artisan is highly Skilled.”

  Ikael beams while gushing, “He just managed to reach the third Tier of his Advanced Class. It’s taken a lot of resources, but Marcus can produce work like this once a week now.”

  I’m not much of a crafter, but my talks with Lana and others have indicated this would be a brutal workload. Creating enchanted works is difficult, prone to failure, and requires a high Level of Mana. Each inscription, each enchantment requires more than a hundred times the amount of Mana to cast a similar spell or Skill. At the very least. Layering multiple enchantments or more powerful Skills adds to the cost in ever increasing amounts.

  “Well, thank you. And him.” Under Ikael’s urgings, and after verifying there’s nothing to be worried about, I slide on the ring. It’s not exactly my style, but it’s still a powerful accessory. “I don’t really control any of my people, but I can certainly see items like this being useful for our police or security force. If you have a list of what you can offer, I can make sure my people send the information to the right people. I’m sure they’ll be happy to have a more local customer.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Ikael says, his smile wide. “And there’s another thing I was hoping to speak with you about.”

  “Oh?”

  “The Planetary Vote. Your settlements took little part in the previous vote. Your orders, I presume,” Ikael asks cunningly.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. In fact, at the time, Lana was looking into how they could potentially put enough votes together. But with the weight of the entire settlement on her shoulders, she and Katherine had decided the task was too impossible to handle. So they’d taken the most minor of actions, gathering information rather than actively participating. “I was incommunicado at the time.”

  “For a long time, I understand,” Ikael says. “It is dangerous for one of us to go away for such a long period. It’s amazing you were able to hold on to your settlements, even after such time. Your people must respect and fear you greatly.”

  I shrug at the statement, unsure of how to answer him. Fear me? I rather hope not, though it might be a tad naïve to think so.

  “Then, if you are not looking to abstain, perhaps I can convince you to vote for me.”

  “You could, but it seems to be a pointless move. There’re no benefits to having more votes, not unless we can get the Galactic Seat,” I say, leaning back to stare at Ikael. Interesting how Ikael hasn’t asked me why I came, instead happy to guide the conversation to his own desires. But if he’s willing to talk, I’m willing to listen.

  “I see you understand the matter,” Ikael says, pounding on the table slightly. “The aliens have taken too much of our land. But it is a small detail. I’m already moving to secure additional votes—including from the aliens.”

  “Oh?” I say softly, curious if he’ll elaborate. He disappoints me though.

  “Yes. While I don’t expect to win during the next vote, I expect a strong showing will convince even more humans to side with me. I might even manage to get the American to vote for me. I know he’s in desperate need of more help,” Ikael says with a smirk. “I’m sure with my army, we could convince some of his more stubborn members.”

  I blink, turning over his words in my head. As I do so, I freeze, my heart rate spiking as a sense of danger shoots through me. In another second, I see a shadow-cloaked figure step out of a gap in space and slam a blade into Ikael’s back. His force Shield flares, blocking the attack, but the assassin doesn’t stop, her movements a blur as she strikes again and again, each attack tearing apart layered Shields.

  “Assassin!” I yell, standing swiftly and lunging forward.

  The reaction is automatic but predictable, and shadow tendrils grab hold of my feet, yanking me off balance and pulling me back to the end of the room. Strong as I am, the attack catches me entirely by surprise and it takes me a second to tear the shadows apart. As I do so, the door slams open, Ikael’s guards pouring in.

  The assassin doesn’t stop. A swift twist of her body cuts into Ikael’s flailing arm and pins it to the desk as the last of his defensive Shields go down. As I raise a hand to throw a Soul Shield around Ikael, his guards are opening up their attacks. A projected Power Strike, a Molten Beam, and more lash out at the assassin. Before the Soul Shield can take effect, the entire room plunges into a darkness that even the beam rifle’s attacks cannot disrupt.

  “Ali! How is Ikael?”

  “Nearly dead. But uhhhhh… boy-o…” Ali’s voice is hesitant, almost confused.

  Another second and a new notification pops up.

  Ingrid Starling (Level 43 Shadow Assassin)

  HP: 643/2780

  MP: 754/2330

  Conditions: Shadow Body, Death God’s Embrace, Shadow Doppleganger * 2

  “What…?”

  My surprise is more than sufficient time for the other notification floating in front of me to flatline. Ikael’s dead, slain by an old friend of mine. Right in front of me. I kneel there, blinking in surprise even as the guards scream and shout, attempting to pierce the darkness. In a minute, the darkness fades, revealing the headless body of Ikael, stripped of his rings and other enchanted items.

  Within seconds, I find guns and hands pointed at my face. A few hasty guards even take potshots at me, which bounce off my Soul Shield and do little other than shake me free from my surprise. The guards shout and scream orders at me and finally, rather than cause any further issues, I comply.

  Thankfully, my Soul Shield keeps the rough handling to a minimum. Still, I’m treated like a dangerous prisoner, one forced to sit in the middle of an empty courtyard where they’re able to point field cannons at me and cluster multiple Advanced Classers as guards. I absently note they’ve strengthened the quantum lock around me, shutting down my escape options.

  Through all their barked orders, I comply. I play the good guy, the polite and self-effacing Canadian who definitely did not assassinate or take part in assassinating their leader. And all the while, I’m chatting with Ali.

  “How the hell did I not see her come in?” I ask Ali.

  My answer comes in another notification.

  Shadow Plane

  User is able to travel through the shadow plane, a dimension that exists between most other dimensional planes. Quantum lock and other dimensional-locking effects are less effective against users of the shadow plane, for shadows exist everyw
here. Spending too much time in the shadow plane can have adverse effects on an individual and attract unwanted attention from residents in the Shadow Plane.

  Effect: User may enter or exit the Shadow Plane. Dimensional-locking Skills, spells, and technology have a 50% reduction in effectiveness.

  Cost: 500 per entry / exit

  “So she wasn’t sneaking in, she just walked in through another dimension. And paid the extra cost to punch through their lock. Must have been where she lost her health too,” I say, musing to Ali.

  It makes sense. I’d noticed the quantum lock they were using in the city was a disruptive one, rather than a stasis lock. It’s the cheapest quantum lock method, but anyone willing to take the damage can punch through such a lock, unlike a stasis lock which basically blocks all such movements. Of course, the negative of stasis locks are that if you have enough Mana or strength, you can pierce them and appear without incurring any further damage.

  “Good day, Mr. Lee,” a small, wiry Caucasian man in a full light-grey suit and tie comes up to me, conjuring a chair and a table before sitting across from me. “I’m so sorry about the delay, but I’m sure you understand how busy it’s been?”

  “Of course,” I say, inclining my head.

  A servant comes up with a jug of iced tea and a pair of glasses, which he sets down between us.

  “I’m Inspector Jacques Lamar,” Jacques says, flashing me a smile as he fumbles in a pocket, pulling out a small notepad and a pen. He grins at me slightly then nods at the jug. “Do you mind? I’ve been talking non-stop…”

  I blink, then shrug and pour the man a glass and myself one too. I push it toward him and watch him drink before I sip on mine. No poison then, or truth drugs. Of course, neither of those things are something I’m terribly concerned with, with my resistances, but it’s always something worth noting.

  “Thank you so much,” Jacques says. “And again, for your patience. Now, I understand you arrived four hours ago?”

  After glancing at the clock, I say, “Five and a quarter.”

  “Right, right.” Jacques scribbles on his notepad and begins to question me seriously.

  I note that he keeps bouncing back and forth, asking questions sometimes out of order or returning to previous points, but eventually, he drags the entire story out of me. I hold nothing back. After all, nothing Ikael or I spoke of was particularly surprising or secretive. In one of the breaks between questions, I find time to ask my own questions.

  “Why don’t you buy all this from the Shop? I can’t believe you can’t afford it.” I say, my brows drawn.

  “We tried. Unfortunately the assassin has a Skill which makes such purchases extremely expensive. As a mere inspector, I cannot approve an expense of such magnitude,” Jacques says with a self-deprecating smile.

  “And Ikael’s successor?”

  “Has yet to do so,” Jacques replies. “He is extremely busy right now.”

  “There’s rumblings of a civil war, boy-o. I’m picking up quite a few skirmishes going on outside of the compound, and data sieved about the kingdom’s status shows substantial swings in all tracked statistics from Credits to safe zone areas. I’m guessing they’re losing territory,” Ali supplies.

  Question done, Jacques moves on to the trade deal, probing into the details of our discussion. Of course, since we had barely even begun speaking about it, I don’t have much to say. That becomes a long-winded explanation about how I’m a lazy-ass settlement leader who leaves the real work to his subordinates. Which of course leads to another question.

  “If you aren’t involved in the settlement affairs, why did you come? It doesn’t sound like you were looking for a trade deal.”

  “I wasn’t,” I answer truthfully. “I was hoping to speak with Ikael about the Planetary Vote.”

  “Ah,” Jacques breathes the word, scribbling on his notepad.

  I wait while he scribbles, patiently until the inspector looks up and raises an eyebrow.

  “What?” I grump at him.

  “Nothing. I thought you had something more to say on the topic,” Jacques says.

  “Nope,” I say with a shrug. “I’m trying to understand where everyone else stands on it.” A beat, then I decide to be fully truthful. There’s little reason to hide it. “I want us to win a Galactic Seat, but we need to sort out the votes.”

  “Eighty percent, yes?” Jacques says after flipping backward in his notebook. I absently note how he goes well past the point where he began writing at the start of our interview to find this information. Obviously this has come up before. Though I have to wonder the context and reason.

  “Yes.”

  “But Ikael would never agree to anyone but him being on the seat,” Jacques says, his voice neutral with just a little hint of curiosity. Charming, without the Skill. A subtler use of his attributes, a self-effacing manner rather than an overt push with his attribute. But I see the notification that he’s actively using it to affect my emotions and thoughts. “How did you intend to convince him otherwise?”

  I consider his question and the context of our interview. Right. Motivation. From the outside, this looks like really good motivation. Crap. I take a moment to be more careful about what I say and how I say it, but I note the slightest tightening around the eyes as the inspector processes my hesitation. Crap.

  “I didn’t. I hadn’t thought of it. I wanted to talk to him first, get an understanding of the man himself,” I say. “Maybe he would have been fine to be the person on the seat. If so, I’d throw my backing behind him.”

  “You didn’t want it yourself?”

  “Not my style,” I say, shaking my head. “The settlements are more than enough work as it stands. I just want Earth to have the seat.”

  “Why?”

  “You should know why,” I say.

  “Indulge me?”

  “Taxes. Duties. Control of the Mana flow. Access to information,” I say, chanting the answer I’ve given to everyone else as if I’m bored by the topic. Which, truth be told, I am. But it also helps conceal the other reason, the most important reason for me, for Earth to get a seat. Access. Access to Irvina, the capital of the Galactic System, which has gated entry. Sure, if I receive sufficient Galactic reputation or fame, I might be able to get in. But the likelihood of that, in the short term, is incredibly low.

  “Ah, a patriot then,” Jacques says with no derision in his voice, even a touch of admiration. But I’m fast realizing the inspector is smart and gifted. He’s an interrogator who knows he’ll get more information playing nice, taking his time and asking questions rather than trying to strong-arm his way through this.

  “No. A humanist maybe,” I say with a smile.

  “Then you’d be happy to inform us who it was who killed Ikael.”

  “Sorry. Information was blocked,” I say.

  “Really? Because your Spirit is known for being able to call up such information,” Jacques says, suddenly going on the attack.

  “He is. But the assassin’s skill was good enough to stop him. It was a bit hectic in there.”

  “Really? Because the guards said they could get some information on his Status.”

  “Well then, why ask me about him?” I say, playing along.

  “Because the information they got from her wasn’t complete,” Jacques says, flipping backward a few pages.

  “Her?” I frown, cocking my head to the side. “I thought you said him.”

  “Oh, yes. I did.” Jacques shrugs before sipping on his iced tea.

  I can’t help but chuckle at his antics, even as I look around the area and note how the guards are being changed out again. They’ve been rotating portions of the guard around me this entire time, keeping their people rested on the off-chance I’ll do something.

  “Well done, boy-o.”

  Interrogation resistance skill increased

  Deception skill increased

  I blink away the notifications, chuckling within as Ali shows off the results of my h
ours-long interrogation. It’s not something either of us bothers to directly track on an on-going basis since skills—unlike Class Skills—are statistics tracked about actual skills I possess. While my Perk Subterfuge allows me to develop certain skills—like the above deception, interrogation, or stealth skills—at a greater rate than normal, it seems more an ability to accumulate experience faster rather than a sudden surge of information which gets planted within me. So instead of taking say a month of classes to learn something, I only need a few weeks. It’s a gradual change over time, but the actual statistics of where I am don’t matter. I’m kind of glad there’s no weird information download. It’d be even weirder Leveling up something like dancing and finding myself able to do the cha-cha even though I’ve never taken a class.

  On second thoughts…

  “Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Lee?” Jacques says, interrupting my musings.

  “Just thinking about when this is going to be over.”

  “Do bear with me. I have just a few more questions…” Jacques says, and I don’t even bother hiding the roll of my eyes.

  But I stay seated, happy to play along for now. The last thing I need is to be associated with an assassination attempt while trying to get other settlement leaders to meet with and vote for me.

  ***

  The interrogation continues for another couple of hours, but eventually Jacques gives up on getting any further information from me. He shows an amazing amount of Willpower and commitment, but I somehow get the feeling the entire interview process isn’t much different than what he’s used to. Unfortunately, the interrogation ending doesn’t mean I’m released, so I get to sit in the courtyard for a few more hours.

  As I’m guided out of the courtyard, I receive a rather sternly worded statement that boils down to “Your presence is not wanted” before I’m sent back to the teleportation portal to be bounced out. They don’t even bother paying for a long-range teleportation, dumping me at the nearest settlement outside their borders. It’s a bit annoying actually, considering it probably cost them nearly as much to drop me in a non-padded location as it would have to send me back properly. It’d be a major inconvenience if I didn’t have my Skill.

 

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