WVKWnovel 228 (II) Volunteer [I]
228 (II) Volunteer [I]
228 (II)Volunteer [I]
***
Adam said again, mind crushed by utter disbelief.
Shiv grunted, licking the insides of his mouth. The aftertaste of bleach and absinthe wasn’t great, but it did do something to lessen his impression of Matlock. He walked along a stretch of broken pavement as a groaning automaton extended a rusted hand, asking for mithril. The Deathless handed a coin—taken from a certain blonde-haired victim—to the beggar and kept heading for Monster Mystery Meats.
The Gate Lord’s incredulity grew and grew.
Shiv asked.
Shiv had a hard time processing that.
the Gate Lord muttered with reservations.
Shiv stopped dead in his tracks.
A gagging noise came from Adam. Shiv scoffed.
Adam replied.
Shiv's vicious hiss interrupted Adam, and they proceeded toward their fate in silence.
The directions to Monster Mystery Meat had taken him to a Jump Station at the far north end of the city. He couldn’t see Phoenix Academy anymore. Even Flamecrown Castle and the volcano were barely visible over the horizon. In the distance ahead, a massive shroud of churning darkness marked a final threshold for the capital’s borders, and Shiv tasted Harlock’s lingering presence even now. But that didn’t bother the locals in the Wastecourt district. They had other concerns on their mind.
Out here, it was mostly magical industries. Huge flames churned up in the air as rotating rigs spun by the wayside. They were actively forging something, working with heavy metals. Shiv could feel the Geomancy working along with the Pyromancy. Aside from looming factory buildings, the only thing here was old, run-down residences. They were made from reinforced concrete—pure, brutalist structures made to last, not to inspire contentment.
On the streets, Shiv encountered humans and human-looking automata that were dressed most questionably. Some of them propositioned him for unnamed services, and he ignored them. Adam was currently a passenger in Shiv’s cape, taking a break from his own tasks to recover from his mental fatigue. Apparently, the Dragon Brokers were sending a representative later this night. After Shiv finished his first Medic-301 session, he would have that to look forward to.
Shiv thought aloud.The Monster Mystery Meat establishment was described as a pillar of nature amidst a realm of urban decay by some of the locals. But thus far, he saw nothing but decay and concrete. There wasn’t even a single blade of grass sticking out from the cracks in the ground.
Adam said.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Shiv said. He looked upon the people here with new sympathy. It wasn’t long ago that he would have considered himself one of their number. In a certain way, he still did.
Shiv frowned. It made sense, but it still felt like they were being leeched from; that things could be better.
Adam replied, but his words felt weak and empty.
Shiv turned a corner, and the marker pointed straight ahead. Suddenly, the pavement wasn’t so cracked anymore, and there were columns of trees leading straight ahead. The masses of beggars and sex workers disappeared. Instead, he found a long line leading out from what looked like the open jaws of a dragon’s skull—
Shiv realized. Patches of leaves swayed from the sides of the massive skull, but it stood a bleached white presence with two simmering braziers in its eye sockets, surrounded by smaller residential clusters molded of cracked concrete. The home of Monster Mystery Meats was popular. A flapping banner was wrapped around the dragon’s head, declaring:
Shiv blinked. “I can’t say I saw that at the Swan-Eating Toad before.”
Slowly, he made his way forward and walked past the crowd. They were a varied assortment of individuals. Some were guards, others were dressed in fine silks and gleaming armor, and a few were even wearing robes of faith. They weren’t limited to just a few races, either. Here, Shiv saw all the Republic’s races and a few he didn’t recognize in the line. There were what looked to be winged lizard men who were dressed in straps and bronze harnesses. Not far away, there was a large treasure chest sprouting two bare legs and with teeth between its lid, looking at a menu. Finally, there was a big slime that bounced along, carrying a group of goblins on its head as they brainstormed new slurs for elves.
Shiv thought.
As he made it to the front of the line, he found himself greeted by a tiny rat person standing atop a tall desk, who was actively telling a very agitated goblin to wait.
“I’ve been out here for three hours!” the goblin seethed, wiping at his sweaty brow. “Three! They’ve been full since the morning. The fuck’s going on?”
The rat, comparatively, was dressed in a small, green dress and had a bow wrapped around her head. “Oh, it’s been a real struggle today, friend. I’m really sorry. It’s been bad for me too, you know? I’ve been out here all this while with you, right?”
“Right.” The goblin nodded.
“I should have been shifted off-duty hours ago, but the kitchen is having She noticed Shiv approaching. “I’m sorry, but—”
“Temp Commis,” Shiv declared. He pointed at himself. “Volunteer for E-333. I’m supposed to help out today.”
The bow-tied rat person sniffled at him and used an Analyze Skill. As soon as she did, she gave him a once-over again and sighed. “Are… are you sure—ah, never mind. You’re one of Matlock’s. We'll take any help now. Just… be ready.”
And there it was again: the warnings. “Uh, why? What’s going on?”
“Yeah,” the goblin said, leaning on the table. “What is going on?”
“Just a kitchen caught in the desperate struggle for control and culinary miracles,” the ratkin said, clasping her tiny, clawed fingers together. She leaned toward Shiv and whispered, “If you have a weapon, leave it at the door. Sneak into the kitchen, if you can. The head chef will tell you what to do.”
Shiv wanted to ask her what was going on, but when she went straight back to placating the waiting guests, the Deathless shrugged and decided to keep going.
Adam muttered.
As he ventured into the dragon’s open jaw, he found himself standing before a massive set of crystal doors that was decorated by what appeared to be a group of cavemen cooking a large dragon. To his surprise, he also noted the strong wards lining the doors—so strong that he couldn’t sense any life signatures past it.
Shiv pushed on the door, but it swung open without resistance. The moment he did, a set of clawed hands seized his wrist, and Shiv felt himself get pulled in.
His mind screamed. He prepared to retaliate—when he was pressed against a wall and told to shush by what looked like another lizard-man. Except this one was a bit different from the others. It wore a full chef’s getup, and it had a headband wrapped around its forehead.
“Quiet,” the lizard-chef whispered, placing scaled digits over Shiv's mouth. “We can’t let the bread hear us. They’ll kill the hostages, otherwise.”
Shiv breathed, struggling to process the lizard-chef’s words.
“They are awake. They weren’t fermented properly. They staged an uprising. They hold the kitchen and parts of the second floor now. They’re trying to take the first, but we are holding. They took some hostages, though. Esteemed guests—long-term clientele. We cannot afford to lose them, and we cannot afford to let the bread cook them. But they are watching. Listening. We must move quietly and retake this place. You are the volunteer? For credit?”
“I, uh, uh, yeah, I’m Shi—fucking, Marcus Unblood!” He caught himself at the last moment, so staggered by the chain of weird events that he nearly gave his actual name.
“Shifuking Marcus Unblood?” the lizard-chef asked for clarification.
“Just… Marcus.”
“I see. I am Hero-Chef Velly C. Raptoior. This is my restaurant, my kitchen, and today, you are one of mine. Today, we take this place back from the Faebread that weren’t taught how to die properly.”
Shiv blinked.
Psycho-Cartography: