Ruthless: Path of Conquest

After James completed his shopping trip and placed Dungeon Core Carol carefully in his bag, he met back up with Alan and Mitzi. Alan reported that they had collected all the potatoes in sight in their bags, and then the trio resumed their voyage.

The flight was largely uneventful, though there was a surprising moment when they had to take a detour to stay away from what appeared to be an epically large and dangerous thunderstorm. The surprising and disturbing part was that James sensed a massive and powerful life force at the center of the largest cloud.

In other words, that was no naturally occurring storm. It was simply a marker of the outer boundary of a Ruler’s territory.

I suppose I’ll have to deal with whatever that is myself eventually, he thought. He did not look forward to the idea of fighting some kind of monstrous thunderbird inside of a thunderstorm. James sent a silent instruction to his other flying monsters not to worry about looking for Wendigos after all. He would have to assume that the whole world was hostile and threatening from now on. The Wendigos were just the tip of a very large iceberg. Seeking them out would just be making trouble for himself for no good reason. It wouldn’t make his world particularly secure to eliminate their kind. Better to start with my neighbors.

James was beginning to regret agreeing to help clear out whatever monster infestation Dean and the surviving population near the firm were dealing with. I have plenty of my own problems, given the number of growing monster territories in this area. He estimated he still had at least a few days before the nearest one could reach the edges of his own territory, but those were days that would have ideally been spent preparing.

I can rely on Mina, he thought. He sent a message to the monster he’d left behind with Abhi, and he ordered it to ask Abhi to present it to Mina. Then James put the Fisher Kingdom at the back of his mind. They were arriving.

The trip had taken longer than James had hoped. His creatures were still slower than he’d have liked. But at least they’d made it while the sun was still out. He estimated sunset would be there in an hour or two, but there was enough time to get the lay of the land.

As they approached, James saw the old law firm building, separated from the main road by a big fissure. Surprisingly still just as intact as Alan had conveyed, despite both the movement of the Earth generally and the existence of that big, gaping crack in the ground specifically.

I guess it’s a relief seeing another building still standing, James thought, but man, I do not miss this place. It was surreal to think that just a couple of months ago, he had been employed full time in this place, managing files and reporting to partners. Bleh!

There were also figures walking around outside. Working, he thought. Dean had assembled more people than just those who had worked in the building previously. There were eighteen figures walking around outside, including two men in prisoners’ uniforms. One wore an orange uniform, and the other was dressed in deep red.

A serious criminal, James thought. Dean has to know what that color means, right? The man in orange was no angel either. James thought he recognized him from his days as a prosecutor. Arrested for breaking his wife’s jaw, I think? Domestic violence offenders had always been the lowest of the low in his eyes, a position that was universal in the State Attorney’s Office where he had worked.

But the other man’s uniform indicated a serious threat to public safety. A particularly violent murderer. Serial killer. Terrorist. Serial rapist. There were a variety of horrendous crimes that could earn the red jumpsuit. But inevitably something vile and dangerous. If James had run into someone in a uniform like that just out wandering the Earth, he would have considered whether to avoid him or simply kill him.

But now I’ll be helping him, he thought. Or at least the man would be among those he would be aiding if he assisted Dean. James tried to reserve his judgments for now. The System onset would have changed everyone’s lives. Some people had changed for the worse—the images of Officer Ross and Cliff came to mind—but others would undoubtedly have changed for the better.

I remember Mina and I used to talk about when Yulia would finally grow up. She’s so nice and accommodating that we thought she might fall in with the wrong crowd, like their sister Yelena. Now look at her.

Everything he’d heard about Mina and Yulia’s Orientation told him that Yulia had really come into her own. She wasn’t someone they needed to worry about in the same way as before. Probably never would be again. She was growing into a strong adult.

Alan and Mitzi had been rather heroic in Orientation.

Damien had gone from an ordinary man to a Werewolf who took on the responsibility of protecting a group of people until James showed up to relieve him of that burden.

Some people had been criminals going into Orientation. James knew Rostov had been convicted for murder, and he had ended up being the worst human in James’s Orientation.

But there were a couple of Moloch cult members who James felt had redeemed themselves in the end by fighting Flame Elemental Rostov alongside him. So anything was possible.

Then he remembered that he didn’t have to think about this by himself. Maybe Alan knew something.

“Hey guys,” James said, speaking up just loud enough to be heard over the wind, which was louder at their height in the air.

“What’s up, James?” Mitzi asked.

“Do either of you know the people down there?” he asked. “I’m wondering about the men in prison garb in particular. That red uniform usually means a really dangerous inmate.”

Alan looked down, frowned, and shook his head. “I think I recognize some people from the building, but not those two. They must be, uh, people Dean invited,” he said hesitantly, brow furrowing with the beginnings of worry.

“Hopefully Dean knew what he was doing,” Mitzi said. “There is a woman I recognize down there.” She pointed at a woman in a Mage’s robes. “I’ve been volunteering at the library since I retired, and she’s a librarian at the local branch back that way.” Mitzi pointed a thumb in the vague space behind them.

“Guess she found the group too,” James said. “Probably good for her chances of survival.”

“Yes,” Alan agreed. “One thing Dean has to his credit: he’s organized. You know he’s been imagining the end of the world for years. Some of these people are probably from his community.”

Still kind of a small group, though, James thought. No way they could survive out here like this. Not with these numbers, and no Ruler present to scare away potential invaders. He didn’t feel the aura of a Ruler, at least. Though James knew it was possible to conceal the power to some degree. He’d been containing his own power within himself as they flew this way, to avoid provoking any fights.

“What do you suppose they’re moving down there?” Mitzi asked, pointing.

James looked at the ground again and saw the prisoners hefting what appeared to be some form of heavy equipment toward the fissure.

“Looks kind of like military hardware,” James said.

“It is,” Alan said, squinting. “Now that you mention it, I recognize what they’re moving. They have some canisters of—no… No, they wouldn’t have let these guys get it off base. How did they manage it?” He trailed off into a troubled silence.

James tried to let him work things out, but as they drew closer, he felt the need for an answer more pressingly.

“Alan, what is it they have exactly?!” he asked, barely controlling his tone. But the urgency must have come through.

“Chemical weapons,” Alan said, speaking quickly and quietly. “Some kind of gas. What kind, I don’t know. I recognize what the canisters look like from the Persian Gulf. But I don’t know what the army was storing in their Orlando base. I just know they got a lot of funding for new projects way back in the war with China. That was when they put up the new base. I guess they were storing some of this stuff there.” He shrugged helplessly.

“Good enough,” James said. “Now I at least have an idea of what we’re walking into.”

He ordered the Skin Balloons to release their hold on him and slowly lower Alan and Mitzi nearby.

Then James dropped the thirty feet or so that had separated him from the Earth. He landed just a few feet to the side of the former prisoners. As he touched down, he felt the distant presence of a Ruler. Somewhere below ground. But his mind was immediately pulled back to the surface.

Both of the men put the canisters they were holding down and turned to face him, their guards visibly raised. They looked bigger up close.

I wonder what their Orientation was like. He was betting on violent.

“Hello there!” James called, raising a hand and waving casually. “I hear you guys have a monster problem?”

The convicts visibly relaxed a bit and looked at each other before either of them spoke. James used that moment to Identify both men.

Viktor Cremieux, Lv. 8

Olivar Cruz, Lv. 9

Neither of them has been through Race Evolution. They’re just naturally this size. Viktor was the one in the red jumpsuit, while Olivar sported the less stylish but also less concerning orange.

“Who are you?” Viktor asked gruffly, clearly not the brightest bulb.

You could’ve just used Identify, James thought. I have a False Impression up, but it has my real name on it.

“My name is—”

“James!” Dean Crocetti’s voice cut through the background noise and interrupted James’s self-introduction. He turned and saw the law partner rushing toward him from the firm building.

“Well, I guess we have a friend in common,” James said, turning to the convicts with a small smile. Neither of their expressions showed anything but suspicion as they looked back at him. But that was fine. He didn’t care if he won them over. The reverse was what mattered.

Alan and Mitzi landed beside James just as Dean reached them.

“Guys,” he said breathlessly, “so good to see you made it back here! James, you’re looking, uh, large.”

“Race Evolution,” James said. “Once you get your Race to level 10, you get some new options for how you want your body to function.”

He Identified Dean as well.

Dean Crocetti, Lv. 10

Huh.

“Oh, I just got there myself,” Dean said, answering James’s unspoken question. “I’ve been too busy to go into Race Evolution, though. Someone else in my Orientation did it, and I realized it took about an hour for him.”

“Busy doing what?” James asked.

He could see in his peripheral vision that Alan and Mitzi were looking uncomfortably in the direction of the canisters of gas the convicts stood beside.

“Just trying to solve problems, man, same as always,” Dean said, a smile playing over his lips. “You probably know how it is, with the power grid down and the gas and water disconnected. But before we can deal with any of that, we have more immediate problems. Right now, we’re playing whack-a-mole.”

James was slightly startled by the sound of Cruz beginning to laugh off to the side. He turned his head and saw Cremieux affixing Cruz with a disapproving look.

“Whack-a-mole, huh?” James asked, turning back to Dean.

“Would you explain the situation, Dean?” Alan asked. “What’s the nature of the problem? I know there are monsters, but when I left, we didn’t know what kind.” He lowered his voice. “Who exactly are these guys? And, um, why do they have military-use canisters of gas?”

“We’re right fucking here,” Cremieux said loudly, taking an aggressive step forward. “Anything you want to know about us, you can ask us yourself.

Alan took a step back. Cremieux’s face took on the satisfied look of a bully whose victim was ready to hand over his lunch money.

And James released some of the aura he was holding in.

Cremieux’s expression changed. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

“What are you—” He looked at James. Then Cremieux stepped backward several paces, until he stood behind the canisters. James reined his aura in a bit.

“Sorry about that, guys,” Dean said awkwardly, casting a disapproving glance in Cremieux’s direction. “Vik, these are my friends from work. Alan, one of my partners, and James, one of our associates.” He looked at Mitzi. “I assume you are the famous Mitzi I’ve heard so much about?”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, trying to put on a winning smile but landing more on the side of obvious discomfort. “Although I don’t know what I might have done to get famous.”

“You can’t spend time around a guy like Alan and not know about his wife!” Dean said. “Anyway, these two gentlemen are Viktor and Olivar. Got to know them a bit in Orientation. They both have a bit of a temper—” He threw them a look that seemed to carry an emotion somewhere between impatience and indulgence—“but they saved my ass more than once in Orientation. They’re good guys. Solid. Brave.”

Brave when they know they can win, James thought. Olivar was definitely the man he’d seen in court for smashing his wife’s jaw. And Viktor had just demonstrated he wasn’t any more patient than Olivar.

“Hopefully we can all get along,” James said, not bothering to hide the deep suspicion with which he regarded the two convicts.

“I believe we can,” Dean said, not giving either former prisoner the chance to respond. “In fact, I would say it’s more like we have to. We need to work together if we’re going to rebuild the world.” He was clearly warming to his subject.

James gave him the thinnest of nods, to convey, Yes, go on.

Dean turned to Alan. “When you left, Alan, I had an inkling about what the monsters in that deep hole might be,” he began.

James’s Ring of Truth began throbbing on his finger for the first time. He realized this was its way of indicating deception. Since he had owned it, no one had outright lied to him. At most, he had felt a twinge from the ring when someone told him a half-truth. Dean was lying about something.