My relationship with smoking cigarettes had been a rocky road over the years. An on/off switch controlled by an inner child too hopped up on ice cream and without regard for consequence. Whether as a coping mechanism or to fit in with my peers, I always dropped the habit just as soon as my bags were packed and I was refreshing my life. As if that ever helped.

  The remaining pirates had crumpled like beer-soaked playing cards once the grip of fear washed over them. A few quick stabs and they shuffled off this mortal coil. Now I sat here at the edge of the motel bed, a dog-eared packet of the misery sticks in my idle hands. Retrieved from the bedside table as my mind sought… something. No lighter and only three of the squished bastards left. A forgotten vice left here for who knew how long. Had the owner been able to give them up? Doubtful.

  As to why I held them? I wasn’t even sure. It had been long enough since my last that the smell of them would probably make me turn up my nose. Uncomfortable memories dredged up as my aching mind connected the dots from my past. Not all of them bad times, but miserable all the same in retrospect. It was the way of life, but… everything had been left behind.

  Friends. Hobbies. Decent jobs. My younger self was spritely and bushy tailed, the future an orchard of ripe fruit fresh for picking. I had gotten lost amongst the trees, too busy trying to find the forest. Ended up… here.

  Another half-rate motel and almost nothing to my name.

  There was some irony in this being my current predicament. Before the end of the world, it was a temporary lapse in paranoia that had earned me the cut across my palm. It was less than a week ago, but felt like a decade.

  Just like now, I had sat at the edge of the motel bed, staring at a pack of cigarettes. Trying to decide if I wanted to fall back into bad habits and drain the last of my funds. I had decided I’d take it easy, instead. After being on the road for a while, the prospect of an early night and first proper sleep in an actual bed for a while was just too big of a draw.

  But I had been followed.

  Barely five minutes into switching the light off and closing my eyes, the door burst open. One of the private investigators sent by Rico to track me down. Of course, calling them a PI made them seem official. Like they weren’t just a glorified thug paid to kidnap me.

  I remembered the panic and fear I had felt. That strong cedarwood aftershave he wore way too much of. The baseball bat that I always slept beside was quickly taken out of my grip before I could do damage, but the asshole wasn’t a fan of how scrappy I was. That was a failure on his part, as my history should have told him that I wouldn’t go down without a fight. Shitty investigator, in my opinion.

  As if his strength and weight advantage weren’t enough, he lost his patience and drew a blade. I was reckless, even before this System bullshit. Took my chance and grabbed it so that he couldn’t attack, and clocked him with a hastily snatched metal bookend from the shelf next to us.

  He dropped like a half-ton cow, stunned and ready for slaughter. I fled immediately instead, self-preservation overriding any other thought. My hand bled profusely. If anything, I was lucky no permanent damage was done, but it took several days and the last of my bare medical kit to keep it bandaged and prevent infection.

  From there, I drove for days until reaching the diner.

  Now I had come full circle, almost.

  The latch of the bathroom clicked, and the door opened. A fresh-faced Sally emerged, preceded by a still-damp Bucky. The dog rushed out into the biggest open space by the corner of the bed and shook himself off.

  “Scarlet…” the waitress stepped forward, her brow furrowed. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  My eyes went slowly from the window and over to her. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  I had closed the door after kicking the arm of the captain out with the rest of the dead pirates. A bandage had slowly relieved me of any injuries, up to my current 90% maximum HP. After taking a seat and regaining my breath, my brain had all but shut off.

  “The blood, for one.” She crossed her arms, looking down at the crimson that had darkened patches of the carpet. “I’m pretty sure my singing wasn’t that bad.”

  For all the exhaustion that weighed down on me, I smiled. Sally was wrong, but the fact that she diffused the situation with some levity made her one of the few people in my life that were consistently tolerable.

  “Bounty hunters,” I said. “They came knocking for me while you were busy, and I answered.”

  “Who won?” she asked, stepping over the dog to peer through the blinds. After a few seconds of looking about, she turned back to me. “Hmm. Hard to tell.”

  I rolled my eyes. Despite them being human in appearance, my brain subconsciously saw them as no different from monsters. I killed them without any of the usual hang-ups I had over dealing with actual ‘players’, as the System called us.

  “You could have called for me,” Sally continued, turning back to admonish me. “Even if they’re only after you, that doesn’t mean you have to face them alone.”

  I sighed and crumpled up the cigarette packet. “You’re exhausting, Sally. Here.” From my Inventory, I withdrew the tricorne I had repaired for her.

  She took it and placed it on her head. “I’m being genuine. You’d help me out of a pickle, right? So let me return the favor. As an equal.” The waitress looked me up and down, inspecting the damage I took. “Did you want to shower before we go? Looks like you had a rough time of it.”

  A little amount of luck and hard-headed ignorance. The gunshot to my leg had thankfully avoided any major arteries. Slacks now had a bloodied hole through them, however. Left bracer was once again split where I had decided to take a sword to the arm instead of anywhere less desirable - like my face. Most other injuries had been minor and hadn’t taken long to heal up.

  I was still covered with blood, both mine and that of the monsters. My body ached, hating me for skipping out of the potential nap to get beaten to shit once again. Maybe ‘luck’ was the wrong word.

  “I’ll wash with the sink, but I’ll repair my clothing as we walk. I’m getting tired of fighting in this shithole.” My tired eyes looked down at Bucky, who was now sitting by my feet and watching me eagerly. He was quite the handsome prince now that he was cleaned up. Still a little goofy looking, but who among us was perfect? “Don’t worry, I have a second layer of clothing, so I’ll look partially presentable.”

  “Sounds good. I never wear a skirt without gym shorts anymore. Learned my lesson the second time I accidentally flashed everyone my undies.” Sally pulled a face.

  The packet in my hands vanished into my Inventory, and I stood up with a groan. “Second time, huh?”

  “Three times and people start thinking you’re an exhibitionist.” She wrinkled up her nose. “First time was the classic skirt-gets-trapped-in-door, and it tore off. Second time I fell down some stairs, but that wasn’t as embarrassing as I was more focused on the broken wrist.”

  I walked around the bed to the bathroom. “This might come as a surprise, but I’ve never broken a bone.”

  “Bullshit.”

  As I wiped off the condensation from the cabinet mirror, I smiled again. “Well, no major limbs, right? Fingers and ribs don’t count. Or dislocations.” Perhaps I was trying to fool myself here.

  The rusty springs of the mattress squeaked, and I imagined the waitress had hopped onto the bed. Despite being everything unlike it, the situation reminded me of one time I stayed over at a friend's house as a preteen. A time more carefree.

  “And I thought my middle name was ‘danger’, but you’re something else, Scarlet.”

  It was probably easy for her to imagine those injuries were sustained in my time as a bouncer, or during some other underground brawl. They weren’t, but I’d allow her to believe that. Truth was, although I’d been told by a couple of people I’d suit a career as a boxer or MMA fighter… I didn’t like getting hit. Probably a laughable revelation given current proceedings, but at least I got to kill those trying to harm me these days.

  “Why don’t you be a peach and loot the pirates?” I asked as I put the plug in and turned on the water to fill the sink.

  “They dropped loot? Did you get experience as well?”

  “Yup.”

  The bed squealed again, and I watched as she stepped into view on the left, standing beside the main door. Bucky followed her, but his eyes were waiting for my permission to continue.

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  “So this bounty thing is sending a group of level relevant loot pinatas direct to your door once a day? Where do I sign up?”

  I shrugged. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Providing I survived the assault of whatever monster groups decided to ambush me, the process was actually making me stronger with loot and experience. A risk, sure, but I hoped that Rico was self-absorbed enough to continue the charade.

  At least until the day I could kick his ass myself.

  Jury was still out on whether I’d kill him. His petty desire for revenge had… ruined my life. Sure, I never settled in any one place for long, but it had been different once he had set his dogs on me. The fact that he was still grinding his teeth over my escape drew me to the obvious conclusion to make that stop. Permanently. An end I could recover from.

  I eyed the waitress up as she opened the door and put her hands on her hips, as if she was disappointed with all the corpses littering the hall. If Rico wanted to funnel me more power, fine. Maybe he’d grow bored or some monsters would kill him for me. Wishful thinking. He was the type of turd that always rose to the top of the bowl. Probably had a new gang loyal to him already.

  With a sigh, I washed away those thoughts with a splash of water. There was a high chance I’d be getting bloody again sometime soon, so a shower was just asking for trouble. If I could clear the dried gore from my face and arms… that’d be enough.

  I put both my shirt and slacks to repair, standing in an undershirt and shorts instead. Bracers would have to wait, but I took them off to wash my arms properly. Using some of the unlabeled shampoo as soap, I was able to clean away the sweat and blood to reveal the healed wounds across my arms.

  It seemed like the System just accelerated the normal process of healing, perhaps. There were pink lines here and there—with a particularly gnarly one where the hook had torn me open—remenants of the magical repair work. Some of the earlier wounds had faded, so I expected the newer trophies to do the same over time.

  “Holy shit.”

  Without hesitation, I turned and stepped away from the sink. Muscles tensed up.

  Sally stepped into the doorway, her silhouette briefly obscuring the item she was holding in her hands. I narrowed my eyes, barely picking out the odd shapes.

  “Is that a… compound crossbow?” I asked.

  “Sure is!”

  “Fuck. That’s a great find. How many bolts do you have with it?”

  She pulled a face and lifted it up to check. “Looks like I have six-” The weapon clunked, and a bolt slammed into the bedroom wall a foot away from my head. “Er, five.”

  I eyed up the rod of dark metal that had gone halfway through the cheap wall and was poking into the bathroom. “I’m not… entirely convinced letting you keep that is a good idea.”

  “That’s just because I’m not actually equipping it right now. There’s a minimum Guile amount required and I need to get to the bunker to assign my stats.” She let it vanish into her Inventory. “Once I can use it, I won’t be so clumsy. I promise.”

  As much as I was slightly envious she had found such a modern weapon amongst all the medieval shit we seemed to receiving, I found myself trusting the fact that she knew how the System worked better than I did. If our stats also worked as competencies for certain things, then I’d wait and see how she handled it after getting the necessary Guile.

  “Well, finish up,” I said. “Usual loot rules. Split gold and consumables, and divide gear by who could use it better.”

  She hesitated slightly, as if she was going to argue the fact that I had done most of the work… but she knew better, and got back to looting.

  I hadn’t earned any new skills from the fight, but a few had leveled up. Another group like that and I’d hit level 6, and be one step closer to choosing my next Class. Or to continue being a Dreadknight. I returned to the bathroom and got dried up.

  Two minutes later and the three of us reconvened on the bed, where Sally proceeded to lay out a few of the items she had found, like the world’s most drab flea market.

  “Two flintlock pistols, with four shots.” She placed them on the faded bedcover. “There was a third one, but it was broken.”

  “Any stat requirements?”

  She shook her head.

  “One each with two shots, then. Something for emergencies.” I’d need to double-check if Killing Blow was restricted to melee weapons only, but given that it was a sure-kill thing, it would be a waste to use one of the shots for that.

  “Here’s your share of consumables.” Sally sent a trade request through the STAR. “Only one token, but feels right that you have it.”

  [250 Gold]

  [Bandages (2)]

  [Solar Shard (1)]

  [Lunar Shard (2)]

  [Questionable Rum (3)]

  [Bounty Token (1)]

  I ignored the alcohol for now and put a pin in getting the token information up. It was probably similar to the Boss ones in that they opened something like a key. I’d check once we were moving and away from here.

  “Penultimate prize is this mean-looking weapon. Very mall-ninja-chic, so it fits you perfectly.”

  “Are malls even a thing these days?” I gave the waitress a dull glare as she produced said weaponry.

  It was another knuckleduster, although not only did the business end have spikes on it, but one side had a wide, three-inch dagger jutting from the metal. Almost a dagger with a hand guard, but the weight of how it was built determined the intent was a punching-thing that could also stab, rather than the other way around.

  [Hungry Spiked Knuckles]

  [+2 Power, +1% HP restored on kill]

  If I replaced my other knuckledusters with these, then I’d lose out on 1 Stamina, in exchange for 1 Power. At least stat-wise, as I could use one on each hand just for fighting. Given that I could gain temporary Stamina in combat, that wasn’t the worst drop. It made Power a potential target for Adjustment now, should I need a temporary defensive boost instead of the extra damage.

  The System may favor me using two-handed weapons, but it was good to have options.

  “There weren’t really any good equipments. A Knowledge and Stamina hat for Bernie, but otherwise nada.” She shrugged. “Lastly, two books - which I think we should take one each, but I’ll let you pick first.”

  She placed them on the bed. First up was a familiar green one - an uncommon random skill. But the second was… different. It wasn’t random at all, but a set skill. I raised an eyebrow and gave it a read.

  [Skillbook (Actually Competent)]

  [Increases your highest stat by X, for X seconds, where X is your current Level. 1 hour cooldown]

  [The better you get, the better you get.]

  “Huh.” I tilted my head to the waitress, who was currently beaming at me as if there was really a choice to be made here. “You realize this is pretty significant for me, right?”

  Sally raised an eyebrow. “But think of the possibilities of random. Are you not a chaos gremlin? An hour cooldown sounds so boring.”

  She was laying it on pretty thick, but I got it. Three or four seconds of extra Guile might help her out in a pinch, but for me it was a build enabler. Probably all but guaranteed that I could hit Deny Life off against anything around my level. The extra point of Vitality from Shroud of Fear could save me in certain circumstances - even if the cooldown was rather dire.

  I shrugged. “Take your random ability then, chaos gremlin. I’ll settle for something guaranteed to get me kills.” Starting a fight with Deny Life made every encounter so much easier once I could start drilling fear into my opponents.

  “Cool. Let’s get to the other bunker. Looks like it might rain later.” Sally scooped up the book into her Inventory and turned to the door.

  I looked down at the sparkling dog, his tail wagging as soon as we made eye-contact. He had been waiting patiently for his share of the loot, and I felt a little guilty that the pirates were ill-equipped to fulfill Bucky’s needs. Not even a packed lunch for their murder mission.

  Food seemed to stay good within the Inventory - if the several meals I had gotten from the crates were any indication. I scoured for anything taken from the diner, but pickings were rather slim. A couple of slivers of uncooked bacon would have to do for now, rather than trying to pick apart some of the full meals he couldn’t eat all of.

  “I’ll find you some proper food soon, I promise.” I let him take them from one hand while I rubbed his head with my other.

  Not that I had a history of making good on promises, but… new leaves were made to be turned, or something. If anyone deserved that from me, it was Bucky. He yapped up the meat as he followed me out onto the pathway strewn with dead bounty hunters. The waitress wasn’t that bad either. Clearly had her own agenda, but she was almost as earnest and straightforward as the dog. Accepting with no real judgements.

  Probably a few screws loose, but I could think of worse people to try to survive the apocalypse with.

  We hopped the short barrier and made a beeline for the other bunker. Dark clouds hung on the horizon to the south. The northward breeze would eventually take them our way. Rain complicated matters. The prospect of fighting in it with reduced visibility, the chill soaking through my clothes, and unstable footing as the desert shifted was… unpalatable.

  “At least we'll get some cardio in,” Sally said, with slightly less enthusiasm in her voice than usual.

  I looked over at the city in the distance. All things going well, we were supposed to wrench it from the clutches of the aliens. Then what? Assuming we could pull that off, that was just one city out of countless across the world. Putting in the effort and succeeding, but still ultimately failing due to the lack of strength of others was…

  More questions to level at Richard.

  Maybe we’d even see him at the bunker. Either I’d taken too many blows to the head, or he hadn’t been clear on whether we’d only see him in our bunkers, or there would be a different Guide there.

  I learned Actually Competent, which was the most passive aggressive skill name I had encountered so far. An hour cooldown was annoying to work around, but I was playing into the STAR here. Anything that gave a boost to Morale or interacted with my skills was a bonus. Every new skill had the possibility of having unintended synergies with the ones already amassed.

  Long story short - I was a few good dice rolls away from sweeping the house.

  “Ooh.” Sally grinned as her eyes left her screens. “I got another riposte based skill that stuns the target for three seconds.”

  “Very nice. Debilitating monsters seems like the safest way of getting through encounters unscathed.”

  Her grin widened. “Now who’s the nerd?”

  I rolled my eyes, but perhaps she had a point. She was still expecting that cozy chat about my favorite video games, and… I still had some trepidation due to some adjacent memories I didn’t want to unearth. Soon, but not yet.

  The waitress didn’t press me to talk any further as we continued. Bucky remained stoic, looking ahead and sticking by my side. While I tried to think about anything but the next set of monsters that would hunt me tomorrow, the gloom kept rolling in from the south. My clothing finished repairing and popped back onto my person. I started to wonder who I might be able to murder for some coffee.

  But it wasn’t long before the Map led us to the location.

  From the outside, it looked no different from our own. Constructed in the same manner using the same materials. Just as new and out of place in the desert. Door was closed, which wasn’t unexpected.

  I looked around us as I withdrew Threadcutter. Sally followed suit, bringing out her spear. We couldn’t be too careful, knowing what people were like. The surrounding area was clear, aside from distant groups of monsters.

  “Let’s do this carefully,” I said.

  Handle turned, the bunker opened up to a similar metal staircase leading down to a second door. The thought of being trapped underground caused me to tense up once more. I made the executive decision to leave the door ajar, just in case. We made our way down the stairs, and I spun the handle of the interior doorway.

  I braced myself as it opened, and we stepped through. The hairs on the back of my neck were up immediately. Some of the usual lighting within the chamber flickered, while others were just dim.

  Still, that didn’t hide the two dead bodies laying on the floor in clear view.

  Nor the repeated phrase of Repent Sinners scrawled across the walls.