Chapter 59: Akul has Everything

Clark Fiddle twiddled his thumbs, scanning the surroundings for any sign of kaiju or rebel activity from his station, despite being near the center of the city.

He was currently guarding a ‘correctional facility’ with a fearsome reputation, known as ‘The Pit’.

None of that was true. There were no prisoners, only more guards who lived on-site, wearing prisoner outfits for the sake of the ruse.

No one wanted to break in to a prison, and the average citizen was happy enough ducking their heads and thanking their lucky stars they hadn’t been sent to The Pit, never really questioning why they didn’t know anyone who’d been housed there.

What they really had was a kaiju, restrained smack dab in the middle of the city.

Clark had watched the outer fences for two years before they had trusted him enough to take a rotation on the inside, and what he saw horrified him. A team of mages with strong CC Abilities keeping the monster asleep and restrained at all times.

There was a team of excavators and masons constantly working to make the pit the kaiju was in deeper, strengthening its prison around it.

That made him feel a little better, but if those crowd control mages ever missed a day…

It answered some questions about how the city was so unblemished by kaiju spawns, typically spawning outside the city and in fewer numbers, making a city a workable concept.

The Tower must’ve had a hard limit on the distance kaiju could spawn from each other and how many could be active at a time, allowing Baron Akul to restrain some exceptionally slow or weak kaiju to create a ‘safe zone’ upon which a city could be built.

‘Exceptionally slow and weak’ was a relative term, as the beast that slumbered underneath the prison could still cause untold destruction if it were ever roused.

Clark knocked on the wood post beside him.

It never hurt to be a little superstitious with these things.

In the distance, Clark could make out a wagon train coming down the road that ran adjacent to the faux prison exterior, causing his heart to skip for joy.

That must be the monthly kit.

Since it housed hundreds of guards who had limited contact with the world just beyond the range of the fence, supplies were shipped in on large wagon trains, from flour and beans to metal utensils, salt, cloth, toilet paper…

Everything the prison needed to keep running.

Those cans of cinnamon rolls preserved in honey…Oh, gods I hope they have some of those. Hopefully I can get some before the ‘lifers’ snag them all.

The guards who played at being prisoners were the ones with higher clearance, and not allowed to leave the facility until their term of service was over, at which point they were under Contract to lie about their time there, accepting the stigma of being a ‘former criminal’ in exchange for a generous stipend paid by the Baron.

It was a devil’s bargain, but there were always men willing to accept it.

Clark was not one of them. He could freely come and go to his wife and home in the city, and as a result earned a commensurately small amount for his work, as well as not being privy to certain classified secrets.

Which was fine with Clark, who had discovered that knowing more did not always make him feel better. In fact, the opposite was true, as he’d been having nightmares about the earth erupting as the sleeping giant buried under the city woke and unleashed death and destruction.

Soon as this contract is up, I’m moving out of The Tower. Me and Maggie can try for a baby. Much safer to have a baby outside, and I’m sick of pulling ou-

The wagon train took a left at the gate, the guards at the outer gate waving them in, prompting Clark to stiffen and ready himself at the second gate, putting his game face on.

The inspector halted the wagon before it came through the second gate, peering inside the lead wagon.

The inspector peered inside the first wagon, nodded, then waved them through, proceeding to the second and third.

Clark and his partner, Jacob, who was an enormous tool, got on either side of the second gate and opened it for the wagon.

The man driving the wagon was gaunt, almost skeletal, with sunken cheeks and an amiable grin. Like a happy corpse. He was wearing an oversized straw hat and overalls.

On the bench beside him was a wicked looking scythe that radiated ominous energy.

Did the inspector not see that, or what?

“Excuse me sir, that weapon…” Clark said, pointing it out.

“Oh, it’s nothing but a family heirloom,” the skeletal man said, reaching up to tip his hat. “but I understand and I’d be happy to leave it here at the gate should you-“

The man did not tip his hat, instead grabbing hold of something hidden under his straw hat and slipping it down over his face.

A mask of purest Abyss.

On the other side of town, Will was eating breakfast while he walked, pondering his Build.

Will only had two of the five fingers of Phantom Hand slotted with any kind of item.

In the first slot was his ring of accuracy, with the mancatcher mutation, which increased his Strength by a drastic amount and allowed him to tug enemies around the battlefield.

In the second slot was Cold Harvest, which added modest lifesteal and strong frost debuff to every attack.

Will had already confirmed that the frost debuff applied when used with-

Will’s eye twitched as his hand dropped to his waist, where The Tomahawk of the Serpent used to rest.

The weapon’s psychic AOE was an excellent way to piggyback status effects past a monster’s – or person’ – defenses, and he was already missing it dearly.

It looks like the next job we’re going to take is the Phantom Thief. I want my axe back.

That was something they would work on later. For right now, it was time to finally visit the legendary marketplace of the 5^th Floor.

The marketplace sprawled out onto one of the main streets, with trinkets and consumables and less valuable Relics lining the streets.

There was food, too, with stalls of baked goods and street meats cleverly sandwiched between far more expensive Relic stalls, which made the inflated price of their wares sound reasonable by comparison.

Will bought some ‘french toast’ as they strolled through the market, almost unable to hear each other over the crowds.

“Rings, got rings for all ‘types here, I got fire rings, water rings, poison rings. Rings that blow up when you get hit! Rings that hypnotize, pulverize, womanize, you name it, I got it!” A hawker shouted right into Will’s ear as they passed by. He gave the stall a glance but the rings weren’t even behind a case, which implied they weren’t valuable enough to steal.

“You’ve got rings that blow up when you get hit?” Will asked, asking between bites of fluffy goodness as he stopped to look.

“That’s right, try this one on for size, kid,” the merchant said, pulling a chunky-looking ring out of the display for Will to appraise.

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Ring of Explosive Retribution

+3 Resistance

When the user is dealt damage, creates a nine-foot radius explosion around the wearer that deals moderate bludgeoning damage.

“Does it protect you from the explosion damage?” Will asked.

“Obviously, it raises your resistance. Just imagine, a jumper hits you in the back and BAM! Flings that little shit right off of you.”

“But it says damage, so if an attack is stopped stopped by your armor, it won’t count, will it? And if it’s a ranged attack from beyond nine feet, it still triggers the explosion.” Will said. “Meaning someone could pelt you with little darts and you would just keep exploding for more damage than the darts themselves, right?” Will asked.

“You know what? Move on, I got real customers to worry about.” The merchant said, waving him off.

Will shrugged and moved on, grabbing another piece of french toast out of his bag and dipping it in his syrup cup as he walked

“You probably aren’t going to find anything amazing in the street stalls.” Loth said. “You’re also going to get fat.”

“Nah, I got another five years before my body gives up on me,” Will said, rolling up the delicious fluffy egg-bread and shoving it in his face.

“If you even live that long.”

“Exactly.”

Loth nodded. “I guess that’s fair. Ooh, there it is.” She tugged his sleeve and pointed at a store.

Exotic Sacrifices

Will nodded, swallowed his meal, rolled up his bag and dipping cup, tossing them in a nearby trash can before heading over to the store, navigating the river of people streaming through the streets.

Will had seen streets almost this crowded once, during a festival in a larger town, but every day? It didn’t even seem possible.

Finally the two of them arrived in the store.

“Welcome, welcome!” the man behind the counter said, waving them in.

Everything on display was protected behind thick glass that shimmered with some kind of enchantment. Will was curious to see if his Phantom Hand could get through it, but not enough to risk starting a fight with the bouncers.

‘Bouncers’ plural.

This is more like it, Will thought, approaching the man behind the counter and opening his mouth to speak.

“You’re William Oh, correct?” The merchant said before Will could open his mouth. He had a wild mane of black hair and broken front teeth, looking far more wild than Will would’ve expected from such a high-security place.

“Steve told me about your Party’s needs. Here’s what I have.”

He reached down under the countertop and pulled out a shallow box, with nearly a dozen Sacrifices on display, each on their own individual silk pillow.

“May I?” Will asked.

“Of course, but if you Sacrifice it, you’ve bought it. And if you don’t have the money, Mo and Edmund here will be more than happy to beat it back out of you.”

Will reached out and touched the solid bar of metal as he read the description.

Erosion Golem

A rare enemy on the ninth floor.