I was warm.
Just bathing in the soft light of the seas, working my ass off on a yacht owned by a billionaire.
I was technically the heir of that billionaire—one of many. One of several, even. One of over a thousand, all in a long line of succession. An empire. A dynasty.
My future was secured. Maybe I’d have a job with the company. Maybe a job with the uncle, or aunts, or my cousins. Maybe a brain dead job and a nice house in one of the blocks they had bought out, allowing me to pay it off at a subsidized rate. I’d share it with my beloved significant other, and we would live happily ever after, creating more children to send to the preparatory school that every child in my family had gone to for the better part of two centuries.
Unless Uncle Zeke, who was set to inherit the mantle from my old grandpa, had something to say about it. I didn’t think he’d oust me. I didn’t think he could, not with my mom holding a high position in the company. But who knew what someone could do when driven by hate?
And he really hated my guts. Seemed to hate me ever since I was a kid. Was it when I wandered off into his giant rooms? Or when I broke some of his fine china while reaching for the napkins? Or when I accidentally broke more of his fine china on a shelf that had just happened to be sitting on the edge? Or when I threw up on his favorite couch while sick with a stomach bug?
Yeah, I don’t like him either. But only because he didn’t like me first.
I was still sixteen, so I couldn’t take too many jobs. Maybe I could volunteer in one of the many poor countries to buff up my resume, but I didn’t want to go on the trip with the cousins who had gone. They seemed nice enough, but they knew Uncle Zeke didn’t like me. They were always a little awkward talking to me.
I cleaned, polished, then reorganized the supplies. The decks and surfaces were surprisingly dirty, covered in a fine layer of dust, salt from the sea air, and so many bird droppings. I scrubbed them down with a soft brush and marine cleaner, restoring their shine.
The windows, too, had salt residue. I wiped them clean with a microfiber cloth and water. The hull was the trickiest part. Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about that until maybe two or three months later when the buildup grew bad.
I then checked and topped up the fluids, making sure the oil and coolant levels were just right. I inspected the battery terminals, cleaning off any corrosion. Finally, I ran the engine for a while so that the battery could recharge and the engine stayed in good working condition.
Work done, I sat on the sunbed and began eating through the snacks I’d stolen in my backpack. I looked longingly at the driver's side of the yacht. I knew how to drive it—one of my uncles had taught me—but I still needed to go through the whole boating safety certification. My dad would never want me having fun, now would he? I was half certain the reason Uncle Zeke hated me so much was because of my dad. It was nothing more than guilt by association.
I hated him. He was such a party pooper.
He made sure that every minute of every day was carefully scheduled for:
5:00 AM – Wake up and high-intensity gym session with Morrison, my personal trainer.
6:00 AM – Shower, brush teeth, and have a high-protein, boring breakfast (oatmeal).
7:00 AM – Attend school.
3:00 PM – President of Archery Club.
5:00 PM – Golf practice.
6:30 PM – Dinner.
7:00 PM – Homework and study time with Lorrie, my personal tutor.
8:30 PM – Piano practice.
9:30 PM – Evening routine.
10:00 PM – Bedtime.
So, I would never have the time, or even the money, to spend on such a course, even if my dad would let me take my grandpa’s yacht out for a joyride.
I enjoyed what little time I had now, just being able to do nothing. I had done all my tasks fast enough that I could, presumably, still be cleaning and maintaining the yacht as part of my “Weekend enrichment.” The only good part was that it was mostly unsupervised.
I had to keep one eye open, making sure no one snuck up on me. That’s why I made sure to sit just away from the waterfront. The two yachts beside me completely covered up my little yacht, but I wouldn’t mind the sailors, even if they could see me. They were always nice to me as a kid.
Then I got the dreaded call on my stupidly outdated flip phone. I waited three rings. One, two—
Huh? Why is that plane going down?
It had come in the direction of the airport. And it couldn’t exactly land in the ocean, unless something had happened to the motors and they had to make an emergency landing.
I flipped open my phone to call 911, just in case—
But first, I had to answer my dad.
That’s when people suddenly started screaming.
I bolted to my feet. Was someone drowning? Was there an accident? Did two boats collide?
I had seen two boats collide at the docks before. It was bad. The crunch of the two ships and the screaming were burned into my mind. It was on the news in minutes, and it had completely changed travel in the Red Isles, forcing vessels to move in one direction.
There was a sudden horn blast.
Bwaaaah!
Other horn blasts sounded out.
Bwaaah! Bwaaah! Bwaaah!
What was going on? Now that I thought about it, there was no crash. No explosion. No crush. Just some screaming. Like they were running away from something.
Gunshots—
I hit the ground.
—rang out. Multiple at a time, even.
Bang. Bang-bang-bang, bang-bang-bang...
“A shooter?” I whispered.
Dad wouldn’t mind if I took the yacht, right?
A shooter was a good enough reason to do anything. Even burn down a mansion or two.
I crawled towards the helm. The engine was still running. I just had to grab the steering wheel and turn up the thrusters.
Wait. I still had to untether the yacht.
No bullets had torn through near me yet, but the gunfire was near constant, as was the screaming.
I half-crawled, half-ran to the cleats. When I got there, I raised my hands just high enough to undo the knots. If someone were looking across my boat, they’d barely be able to see my hands behind the lines and the thick clump of knot.
My fingers felt clammy and cold, my head heavy with the sound of my racing heartbeat. But I undid one knot after another, feeling the tension loosen, then fall slack—the stern line, the bow line, and finally the spring line. With no time to coil them neatly, they all fell into the water.
I crawled to the helm. As soon as I reached the door, I stuck my hands out to unlock it, then dove in, slamming the door shut behind me.
Using the momentum of my slide, I pushed off my elbows and scrambled to the steering wheel. The routine was starting to feel familiar, but the stakes were oh so much higher.
I stuck my head up, then quickly ducked it down.
The coast was clear.
I started driving. Fast. The throttle was all the way down.
I shook, wracked with adrenaline.
I could have died. I could have died.
But, as I calmed down and the yacht got farther away, with the distant gunshots replaced by the blasting horns, I wanted to facepalm.
“I’m so dumb.”
I could have just laid down. Pretended no one was on the yacht. There was no reason for people who were trying to kill or intimidate to target my yacht specifically, when at a glance, there was no one on it.
Unless they decide to sink all the ships?
I slowed the yacht to a stop. I was sure I was far away now, and the other ships that had gotten away were the big cruise ships, and they were giving each other a wide berth, mine included.
As I rolled up the mooring lines–fortunate they didn’t get caught up in the engine–I looked back. It was hard to make out because it was so far away, and there were all sorts of boats blocking my view. But when it jumped up from the waterfront and onto one of the escaping fishing boats...
I didn’t see it for long. It jumping onto the fishing boat had tipped it over, capsizing it. It didn’t look like it had arms. It was just one big creature, kind of like a dinosaur, as tall as a human, muscular, and with two legs.
There was also something at the edge of my vision… like a migraine aura I had when I was smaller, how it shimmered and seemed to be a grid that overlaid my vision. This one, though? It had words.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
System. You have witnessed a monster.
Pick your weapon.
- Swords
- Daggers
- Axes
- Spears
- Maces
- Polearms
- Blunt Weapons
- Bows
- Guns
- Throwing Weapons
- Blowguns
- Slings
- Whips
- Flails
- Custom
So. Clearly not a shooter, but monsters?
I was horrified. All those people that had been screaming.
Had they all died to monsters? Eaten? Torn apart?
But, then, more selfish worries occupied me.
What am I going to do? How am I going to get to my flight? How am I going to get home?
I closed my eyes, centering myself. Breathe in, breathe out. Anxiety still clouded my mind, but I pushed it aside for now.
I opened my eyes. Clearly, the military would deal with the monsters. I just had to hold on long enough until they helped me. And there were other people out there, maybe police officers or concealed carriers, trying to kill them.
I clicked “gun.” Even if it was the only logical choice. Who the hell would use a cold weapon in the modern age when it was proven through bloodshed and war that guns were clearly superior?
I would have preferred a cannon for my yacht, or maybe some artillery, a missile launcher… but I would take anything at this point.
A drop box appeared–
- Handguns
- Rifles
- Shoguns
–and a warning.
System. You do not have the required “technical” stat. Because it is deemed “modern” technology for your world, you need to know how to create a gun and have made one yourself, including procuring the materials, in the past.
Well, shit. Who’s crazy enough to do that?
I looked over the other weapons. I wanted none of the melee weapons. I was on a yacht, after all. Anything that got here would probably sink it, and I was scared to get up close and personal with whatever was tearing people apart. That meant the bow was the best option… and the worst option.
“I can’t believe Dad was right.”
Mentally willing for the option, it expanded.
- Compound Bow
- Composite Bow
- Crossbow
- Longbow
- Recurve Bow
I had always used a recurve bow, but the more modern, stronger bow was a compound bow. I chose it.
The drop boxes all disappeared, and before me, the bow materialized.
Beginner Compound Bow
- Draw Weight: 50 lbs (20-50 lbs)
- Let-off: 80%
- Durability 100/100
Durable Wooden Arrow
- Material: Cedar
- Stack: 100
- Durability 10/10
It was more arrows than I thought I’d get.
You probably think I’m foolish. A bow and arrow? What happens if I run out of arrows?
If the system could magic things into existence, it could probably magic other arrows into existence. Worst case, I could just retrieve the arrows once I had killed all the monsters nearby.
There was an inventory, and I could just take the bow and arrows in and out with a thought. The bow was also already set-up according to my draw length.
I steered the yacht back towards the waterfront. I had a weapon now. If I could distract one of the creatures for long enough, I could probably get others to safety. And I’d be safe enough in my little yacht, far from where the monsters could possibly get to me.
I did not think those monsters with no arms could do more than just float. More likely, they’d panic and drown.
The ships steered themselves out of my way, but as they passed, they waved frantically at me and seemed to shout something.
Probably telling me to turn around.
In response, I raised my bow. Seeing that, they nodded, waved, and sometimes blasted their horn, before leaving me behind.
As I neared the deck, I had to maneuver myself around some of the boats that were empty, but which had been set adrift from all the damage the monsters had done to the ships themselves or to the posts they had been tied to.
By the time I got near enough to see and hear everything, there was nothing to see. The gunshots had long stopped, as had the screaming. It was completely empty aside from the broken boards from where the monsters had propelled themselves off… and where they had landed on their victims.
I made sure to watch the water the entire time for any of the monsters that had fallen into the water, but they all seemed to have gone back to the shore with their ridiculous jumping strength.
I also checked the water for any survivors. If there were any, I couldn’t find them. I could only hope they had gotten all on the other boats or ships that had passed me.
There were also bodies. No human bodies. No monster bodies.
I was relieved to see no human bodies. Even if it meant they were eaten. I didn’t want to see their bodies… of happy people, up until minutes ago, just going for a stroll down the coast.
What made it so surreal was that it could have easily been me. If my dad had called a few minutes earlier and made me do something, or if I’d decided to take one of my family’s taxis to explore the city, I’d be right in the thick of it...running on foot through heavy traffic, hoping a car or a monster wouldn’t crash into me, or that the people running by wouldn’t trample me if I fell.
I hugged the coastline, staying far enough away that the monsters couldn’t possibly jump to me, but close enough that I might help someone.
I could only see their aftermath in what they chose to destroy—and what they didn’t. All the lifeguard towers were knocked down, looking more like debris. Cars in the parking lots were scattered everywhere; some were totally crushed, doors hanging open, while others were mostly intact aside from shattered windows or being flipped over. The porta-potties suffered a similar fate. Some were flattened. Others were not.
It was like a dream. All that destruction. All that fear. All that blood, and probably very painful screaming, right next to the beauty of nature. The coastline, with its gentle slope and sandy dunes leading down to the beach. The fresh air, the deep blue sky with small tufts of white clouds.
I kept going.
The usual fixtures on a public beach gradually faded. No more volleyball nets. No more umbrellas. No more trash bins. No more concession stands and food trucks.
Jst the large impressions left in the rocky coastline and a road swinging dangerously close to the waves. And from that road, I could actually see the monsters, and cars, and what looked to be a college girl on her bicycle, desperately trying to get ahead.
I put the yacht on autopilot and left the helm. Stepping onto the deck, I pulled out my bow.
The bow was robotic. Weird. Strange. It didn’t feel as natural. It didn’t feel traditional.
How this had managed to get the green light, but not guns? Ridiculous. Making this seemed as sophisticated, if not more so.
On the first pull, I nearly fumbled with the release aid, nearly loosing it too early. The pull weight that was normally so difficult to manage when I held the bow at full draw was just… gone.
So that’s what the let-off is.
There was still some weight to it, but it definitely wasn’t 50 pounds.
I didn’t bother with the sight. I had never used one before, and it was a moving target. I didn’t think I could keep my eyes on the target with any magnification.
My normal eyesight would just have to do.
I neared.
There were too many monsters to count. It was a full wave, filling my vision.
Thwack!
It was loud. My first arrow went straight into where they were crowded around a body. I didn’t hit the target I was aiming for, but it sank deep, crumpling the entire head like it was made of papier-maché.
Actually, the monster straight up died.
Killed Mana Golem.
Experience +1.
System Quest. Defeat all the mana golems. Rewards: ???.
Whoa. Double whoa. I had half expected the arrow to just… bounce off. Or deflect off its tough-looking skin. And a quest?
Their heads snapped toward me. Roaring, they abandoned their pursuit and chased me as I effortlessly glided through the water on my yacht.
I went back to the helm and turned the yacht around in the other direction, away from where the girl and the cars had appeared. Then I came out and began shooting at them.
The dumb mana golem ran straight into the arrow, like it could eat it. Again, its head crumpled.
Killed Mana Golem.
Experience +1.
I shot again and again, arrow after arrow. I expected them to get the memo and stop trying to bite my arrows after the third shot.
Okay, maybe the fifth shot.
The ninth?
They never did. They just kept chasing until they were nearly buried under the waves, then continued running parallel to me. And when they caught up, waiting for my yacht to pass, they hopped in place. Up. Down. Up. Down.
At first, I thought they were patiently waiting for me to shoot at them, like in whack-a-mole or target take-down. But they weren’t patient. None of them were. They roared at me each time their heads surfaced above the water.
From far away, they resembled dinosaurs—their scales and size—but up close, they were more like snakes. The way they’d uncurl their tongues, flicking them around, smelling the air. Then their utter revulsion when they got a mouthful of salt water.
I was glad the salt water stopped them from doing that. A creature’s tongue shouldn’t be that long.
“You can’t do shit to me over here!” I shouted, even as I nocked and loosed another arrow.
Even if I didn’t hit the head, it would still die as long as I hit the middle of its torso, causing the entire thing to collapse in on itself. That happened once when one of them was jumping above the waves and couldn’t control its momentum down to snap the arrow out of the air. The rest of the time? They went out of their way to headshot themselves.
“What the hell?” I muttered.
If it was so easy, why were other people struggling so much? The draw strength of my compound bow was average, and the arrows didn’t have any special piercing power—they never went through to the other side.
That could only mean their bodies were weak.
But that reasoning was contradicted by all the cars, buses, and trucks totally wrecked along the roads. And you can’t tell me that everyone swerved out of the way. The mana golems might be as tall as elephants, but a trucker had to have tried driving full speed into one.
My train of thought was totally derailed when I heard honking. Not from a boat, but from a car. And listening to the honks, it moved from one side of my hearing to the other in moments. Fast.
I looked up to see a sleek black Civic zip across the final stretch of road, easily going over a hundred miles an hour.
Intentional or not, it headed right for a group of mana golems that had been attracted by all the roaring.
Boom.
The ground shook.
The mana golems were sent flying back.
The car?
Totally wrecked.
The mana golems got up a moment later, seemingly none the worse for wear. They swarmed the car, and the lucky one swallowed the driver. Then they came down toward me.
I kept shooting at the mana golems, numb.
When I reached for the next arrow in my inventory, it didn’t come. All one hundred, gone. There were just a handful of mana golems left, hopping up and down.
I went back to the helm, increasing my speed until the ECO on the dash disappeared. I slowed down until it appeared again.
The mana golems followed.
So… what now?
I couldn’t do anything to them without arrows. My arms were also throbbing.
After I was five minutes away, I turned off the yacht, then went to the sides to let the anchor down. I pulled out a sunbed and watched them.
They howled and bayed, hoping against hope that my yacht would drift closer to them.
I could just wait for the military.