"History is the poisoned well, seeping into the ground-water. It's not the unknown past we're doomed to repeat, but the past we know. Every recorded event is a brick of potential, of precedent, thrown into the future. Eventually the idea will hit someone in the back of the head. This is the duplicity of history: an idea recorded will become an idea resurrected. Out of fertile ground, the compost of history."
― Anne Michaels
-To War by Jingo-
-Arc Start: New World, Same Sins-
-New World, Same Sins: Chapter 1-
Cotton.
Fields of cotton as far as the eye could see.
The white gold of the American south.
The cash crop so influential that it finally cemented the shift of the world's economic center from China and the Silk roads, where it had been since before the time of the Romans, to the New World and the Atlantic trade routes.
But this cotton wasn't for selling, in fact no one was even farming this cotton, no one had in decades. Instead this cotton was wild, with the farm long since neglected and no native animals able to eat them, the crops had run rampant, growing out of control until it was nothing but a sea of white.
The only evidence of human existence was the neatly cut road through the fields and the old wooden house it led to.
The house was old, that much was obvious, made without any modern electrical equipment, and only rusted metal lanterns & the occasional chandelier to light the inside. But despite its age, and the thin sheet of dust that coated every surface, the house still managed to give off an impressive feel. Large rooms full of rich rugs and cushy furniture, long hallways lined with oil paintings of people long past, closets full of elegant dresses and expensive coats, and a cellar stocked with walls of finely aged alcohol.
It was the home of a man who had clawed his way to the top, and embellished said life at the top for all it was worth. Look closely however, and you'll start to notice little details that spoke of a far darker story, than that of a simple self made man.
A small pile of rusted chains on the outside porch.
A cattle branding iron lost in a hurry, rolled under the couch.
A braided leather whip left on a hook in a back closet… its tip coated in dry blood.
William cringed as he saw the whip, immediately regretting letting his curiosity open the door.
"What am I doing here?" He asked himself as he kicked the closet closed with his boot, hopefully to never be opened again.
The house had an eerie aura that seemed to permeate the air, it spoke of pain, and dark things that had happened long ago on these very floor boards. He hated it… but he owned it.
Well, his family did at least. It had been hand built by his great great grandfather over the course of the man's life, gradually adding on and expanding it from a small hut in the rat's end of nowhere to one of the largest cotton plantations in the state.
Although while they did technically own it, no one had lived here in decades, because-
A floorboard creaked under his foot, and an icy cold breeze blew through him from out of nowhere.
-reasons.
And it wasn't like there were people lining up to buy the place either, no, they were stuck with it for the time being, which brought him back to the reason he was here.
The man who ran this plantation was a cruel bastard through and through, but he was a successful bastard, having painstakingly carved his way from a dirt poor German immigrant to a fortune holder, over the broken backs of those on his leash. That had set a precedent, a cruel precedent, but a precedent nonetheless. He expected his son to do just as, if not better than him financially. Which, well, he did. Moving far away from his abusive father, he caught the railroad boom and filled his coffers full from the very lucrative transportation business, before finally cementing his place at the top of the financial pyramid when his company was bought by Vanderbilt.
And so the cycle continued. His son saw the breakup of Standard Oil's monopoly of the oil industry and quickly weaseled his way up the greasy pole. After all, if the biggest company in the world was being split into twenty little pieces, well then surely all of those little pieces would need someone to help run them? His son saw the shifting public opinion, and decided to abandon oil altogether, gambling his money into real estate, buying up land all around expanding cities, waiting a few years for the city to start running out of space, and then selling his land on an exuberant markup, making ludicrous profit margins. His son had taken one look at the world's affairs, and, with a large loan from his father that he swore to repay, had thrown his lot into the weapons industry, a move that proved to be prophetic when the United Nations was torn apart by disagreements in its own security council… Nearly every piece of American military equipment in the cold war that followed, had his company's logo stamped on it.
And then there was William.
Cheap land wasn't exactly a common thing anymore, with all but the Alaskan tundra having been long since bought up. Oil was a dying business, with public support lower than the dwindling underground reserves, kept alive only by the needs for plastics and rubbers. The cold war ended when every major player in it had crashed their economy in the arms race. Railroads had long since been made obsolete. And cotton farming was, well- no, just no.
The world in 2075 was a very difficult place to make a fortune. Most commercial fields were held in a pseudo-monopoly by a handful of multi billion dollar companies that didn't exactly like sharing, volatile world tensions and political clashes led to an unpredictable and unreliable economy, add onto all this the every growing number of lunatics, seemingly hellbent on getting ahold of their very own shiny red button of World War 3- and the fact the replacement for the UN, the Organisation of Free Nations, is basically useless in doing anything about any of this, and well…
William sighed as he trudged through the halls, after he had finished his private schooling at 17, his father had told him had four years to get together a financial base and build up contacts before he tossed him out. Well, he turned 21 in two and half weeks, and, if it wasn't obvious by now, he didn't have the slightest bit of a good plan.
Oh he had plans alright, it would be hard not to come up with any plans with almost 21 years to scheme up a few, the problem was his lack of plans that weren't almost certainly doomed to fail.
Well… perhaps that was a bit dramatic.
Could he be successful? Yes, quite easily if he played his cards right.
Could he live up to his father's expectations of success? Very unlikely.
The weight of hundreds of hours of custom economics classes being completely useless, and the past, at least, 6 years of his life seeming more and more like a complete waste of time, had led him to do some thinking. Which, he supposed, was why he was here, the place where it all began. Maybe here he could find some clue, a hint as to what to do. Find the inspiration he needed.
What had been his great great great grandfather's motive? Was it simply greed? Was it some desire to not die a 'nobody'? Why had he gone to the horrid lengths he had to achieve his goals?
Would solving any of these questions help him? Probably not.
But hey, it was something, and that was a lot more than most of the options he had left.
Unfortunately, the young entrepreneur hadn't found any answers so far, only broken dreams and things better off forgotten.
Scoffing, he trudged back the way he came, before pausing as he passed by a large painting. One of the largest in the house in fact, it was of William's great great grandfather, dressed in an expensive looking coat, one hand around his wife's back, the other on the shoulder of a young boy, no older than 9, with wide smiles adorning all their faces.
How?
"How could someone so horrible, look so happy?" William asked himself, even though he already knew the answer.
The world was just a terrible, terrible place that was full of terrible people.
And all the evidence he could ever need was right in front of him.
Right next to the old painting of a smiling family hung an old musket, it's bayonet still sharp, the wood treated, and the barrel polished- a fine display piece, as any musket that fought in the american revolution was. But the problem came from the fact it had been passed down as an heirloom, and used again in another war… as was abundantly clear by the flag elegantly carved on the butt of the gun… the confederate flag.
A creaking sound broke him from his thoughts, and he turned his head to see the old closet door slowly creeping back open, the whip inside just barely visible from the shadows, causing him to scowl.
Glancing back to the musket an idea came to him, a stupid idea, but one that turned his little old frown upside down.
He grabbed the rifle from its harness, aimed at the whip, lined up his shot, pausing to adjust his footing, and with a deep breath, pulled the trigger.
And the world went white.
-To War by Jingo-
William blinked rapidly and shook his head, trying to fix the white spots in his vision and the high pitch ringing in his ears.
"...an't be...It wor...real...rked.."
'Stupid, Stupid, STUPID!' He ranted to himself. 'That gun had been hanging on the wall, for God KNOWS how long, why the fuck would you fire a gun that's had old gunpowder sitting in it since the fucking VICTORIAN ERA! Of course it would fucking blow up! It was a display gun, why was it even loaded in the first place!?'
"...reat Her...lease sav...r worl..."
Squeezing his eyes shut to block out the blinding lights, he was vaguely able to make out a person- no, multiple people, talking. Whole lotta' good that did him though, considering he couldn't understand a damn word they were saying.
Bringing his hand up to massage his temple, he blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear the large black and white spots from his vision. He was making great progress in his endeavor until a heavy object lightly wacked into his side, causing him to look up and be bewildered at the sight of a man dressed like he was a knight from the middle ages.
William flexed his skill in diplomacy by sending his best "What the fuck?" expression at the man, who displayed a similar mastery of communication by responding with a nod in the other direction.
Following the guard's prompt, he turned to the front of the room which only served to give him more questions. Standing at the front were seven people, four of them were wearing some weird occultist cloaks with hoods, while the last three were dressed in normal 21st century clothes… if you ignored the medieval weapon replicas they were carrying.
The first was a tall blond with a cocky smirk and a spear long enough to be overcompensating for something.
The second was a raven haired boy… no girl… no definitely a boy, no, yea a boy… but they look really feminine, so maybe a girl? Bah, anyway they were holding a sword built with form taking top priority, and function maybe being taken into consideration somewhere at the bottom of the list.
And the last one was a guy in his late teens, looking just about as bewildered as William felt, staring at the shield on his arm in confusion. Although could that even be called a shield? It was far too small to provide any real protection, if anything it was closer to an arm guard.
"Well I guess we can hear this offer out, but this 'untold fortune' you're offering better live up to its name. C'mon guys let's head out." The blond haired boy snorted with a smirk on his face. "And that goes for all you extras as well, this is gonna be a pretty big deal, you should all come and check it out!" He laughed as he walked towards the door.
"Well ain't y'all just a happy' lil' bunch?" William growled "Leavin' a fella on the ground is fun 'n all, but when ya' go an' start tellin' em' what ta' do, an' without so much as a lil' explanation? Well…" He forced a chuckle as he pushed himself up "We should best start on over again', wouldn't wan' any misunderstandin's now would we?"
"I-I'm sorry," one of the priests stammered. "But the king has requested your presence as soon as humanly possible, and he can explain in much greater detail than I, so if you would please follow us this way." He finished before quickly hurrying out of the room
"Sorry, I didn't even see you there," The sword wielder apologised in a soft voice that just added more confusion to the guy/girl question. "but this seems important, so we should probably hurry." They nodded to him before following after the blond haired one, who hadn't even stopped to listen to William.
Speaking of William, he scowled as the other members in the room funneled out.
"Assholes." He muttered to himself as he finished getting to his feet.
'Well all of 'em except for one,' He glanced at the only person who hasn't left yet.
"Hey are you alright?" The shield guy asked as he approached "You're not hurt are you?"
"Nah, I'm- well, I ain't fine, but I'm alive."
"Good, um, my name's Naofumi Iwatami, sorry about the other guy's behavior back there, they're just really excited is all."
"It's fine, I just had a gun blow up in my face, so I'm not exactly in a great mood right now," He sighed as he stuck out his hand for a handshake "'Name's William Dixie." He said with a grin as they shook hands "Now go on ahead, I gotta' dust myself off and get my bearings."
The southerner scolded himself as he waved Naofumi off, both for losing his cool, and for slipping into his southern drawl. He usually had a good lid on it, but it tended to slip as he got more exhausted or, as in this case, really pissed off. I mean really, he wakes up in the fuck-know's middle of nowhere after nearly getting his head blown off, and no one even bothered to check if the guy passed out on the floor was even alive, much less if he was ok.
Shaking his head, he caught a look of his reflection in one of the ostentatious, and stupidly expensive looking, giant crystal pillars in the room.
Just a quarter of an inch over six feet tall, William was reasonably tall, with messy blond hair sticking up in random directions, partially due to having a bomb go off in his face, and partially because his hat had fallen off when he landed in whatever corner of comic con he was now.
He was happy to find that the explosion hadn't damaged his clothing much, just a few light burns here and there. He was dressed in a charcoal colored longcoat his father had gotten him for his 18th birthday, to help deal with the rapidly dropping global temperatures. He had a black dress shirt, blue jeans, and steel toed leather boots. Slung around one shoulder was an old leather bag he had taken from his great great grandfather's room out of curiosity, and around the other…
"Is that a bow?"
Reaching up he found that yes, it was a bow. A golden and obnoxiously gaudy bow yes, but a bow nonetheless. Why was he wearing a bow over his shoulder? Did someone put it on him? Was that why Naofumi looked confused as well, because they had put the shield on him?
Taking a closer look, he decided that while he thought the thing looked ugly as hell, it was exactly the thing that collectors would pay a really pretty penny for, and he just so happened to know a few rich idiots dumb enough to buy it.
So he'd hold on to it for awhile.
Breaking away from the crystal image, he turned to the floor, grabbing his hat, a sturdy cap with his father's company logo on the front of it, and spared a glance at the old musket. Which, by some divine intervention, hadn't been blown to pieces.
Reaching down to grab it, he sighed, might as well take it with him, who knows what idiot would wind up hurting themselves with it if he left it lying aroun-
CRACK
"Shit! Ow, what the fuck?"
Only to drop it as the damn thing zapped him like an exposed electrical wire.
…
He glared at the gun.
The gun didn't glare back.
…
CRACK
"Owch, okay, so it wasn't because of static charge," William shook his hand, trying to wave away the numbness.
Nudging the leather strap with his foot a couple times, he carefully grabbed it, and lifted it up.
'Okay, so the leather is fine, just don't touch the main body. Jeeze, I didn't even know wood could conduct electricity like that.' He grumbled to himself as he tossed the gun over his shoulder, on top of his great grandfather's old bag.
"Okay then," he took one last moment to dust himself off before turning to the doorway "Let's go find out what the fuck is going on."
-To War by Jingo-
"I am Melromarc Aultocray the XXXII, King of Melromarc. I have summoned you here to this world to fight against the waves of calamity! Heroes, please introduce yourselves." The king introduced himself, looking down at them as he spoke. His tone was dry and rather focused, not like the mage from earlier.
"... What?" William blinked, blinked again, and then blinked one last time just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. 'A King? What is this, the Victorian era?'
Before he could ask for someone to skip the script and just tell them what this whole setup was playing at, the spear guy stepped forward.
"Well, I suppose introductions are in order. I'm Motoyasu Kitamura, 21 years old and a university student." The now identified Motoyasu said in a pompous manner, with a quick but clumsy spin of his spear that displayed some rudimentary skill in swinging long sticks around.
The black-haired teen scoffed and walked two steps forward. "I'm Ren Amaki, age 16. Highschool student." Short and to the point, Sword girl(?) stated her piece.
The king's gaze moved to William.
William raised an eyebrow.
Naofumi took his opportunity and moved to introduce himself, "I'm Iwatani Naofumi, Twenty-years-old, I'm also a university student."
"Err, yes, very good Shield Hero," The king sighed "What's your name sir Bow Hero?"
"My name's William Dixie," He said as he stepped towards the throne "And I hate to interrupt all… this," he gestured to all the strangely dressed people around them "But I'm a busy guy, and I've really got places to be, so if you could just tell me where we are, and point to the nearest exit, that would be great."
"Sir Bow Hero," the king said with a frown "I already told you, you've been summoned by a magic ritual to the kingdom of Melom-"
"Yea, yea, yea, whatever," He raised his hands and cut off the king in exasperation "Magic, Shagic, I genuinely don't care what bullshit script you're reading. I will pay you to just drop the act and explain what's really happening."
"I do not lie to you sir Hero, and if you would open your status magic you will see I tell the truth."
'Status magic?'
A nearby priest took that as his cue and walked towards them, spreading his arms. "Oh heroes, if you could please confirm your status so we can properly proceed."
"You mean you guys haven't figured this one out yet? It's just like BraveStar, the little box at the bottom right of the screen or whatever." Ren said, rather annoyed.
"OHH! You're right! I see it!" Motoyasu exclaimed. "Let's see, it says here that I'm the Spear Hero, sweet!" The newly nominated spear hero looked rather excited; Ren shook his head sideways, and Naofumi looked like he was concentrating on trying to bring his screen up.
William felt a growing sense of dread creep into his gut as he noticed the box that Ren was talking about, a feeling that grew when he opened it.
-[William Dixie: Hero Lv.1]-
-[Equipment: Legendary Bow (Legendary Equipment), Otherworldly coat, Otherworldly clothes, Leather sack, ? #?%!.]-
While William was busy processing that A: There was magic displaying stuff in his head, and B: That he might actually be in some fantasy world, The shield hero spoke up.
"That's fine and dandy, but our levels are at one." Naofumi stated out loud, the other heroes also taking notice of the detail.
"We would like to ask of you four that you strengthen your Legendary Weapons before the next Wave of Calamity. The fate of our world rides on your shoulders, oh noble heroes." The mage from before spoke again.
"About these Waves of Calamity and whatnot," Ren spoke out "you haven't even explained why we are here. Hoping for our cooperation, yet withholding information from us; I hope you don't take us for fools." Harsh words came from Ren, causing him and Motoyasu to suddenly assume a basic fighting stance with their weapons.
"That's right! You can't expect us to work for free, right? Say, if we were to fight in these waves you speak off, what guarantee do we have that you won't simply send us off with our hands empty after we beat it?" Motoyasu spun his spear and clanged the butt end on the ground.
Naofumi, although a bit startled by the sudden aggression of his fellow heroes, had to agree to their line of thought. Shifting into a fighting position to mimic the spear and sword, holding his shield in front of his vitals.
"Rest easy, heroes! It would bring utmost shame upon our nation to not reward their saviors. Of course, you'll receive rewards, glory and fame. We ask that you trust in our word and fight the waves." The king spoke loudly, many of the nobles around them also nodding and lightly clapping to their sovereign's words.
And while all this was happening in the background, William's mind was running fifty miles a minute.
Magic was real, he was in a different world, a world that must run on different laws of physics in order to accommodate said magic, different laws of physics means a different universe that the one he was from. Was it just the two parallel universes, or were there other universes out there? If so, how many? Three? Four? Infinite? Infinite universes meant infinite resources, limitless fuel, unlimited energy. The fact he was dragged here meant travel between universes was possible, which opened an entire can of worms. Trade routes, colonization, screw world domination, why only settle for one when you could have as many as you want?
An empire that spanned across the multiverse, one that could colonies planet after planet, leaving behind old ones as they fell to ruin, dodging planet killing apocalypses that would have otherwise spelt doom.
An empire to last 'till the end of time...
A weak smile of awe formed on William's face as understanding dawned on him. The magnitude of what he had stumbled upon was, in layman's terms, "Fucking Insane."
Aultocray cleared his throat as he began his speech, snapping William from his daze.
The king said that since ancient times, Waves of Calamity had cursed the world from a dimensional crack in the sky, pouring in all types of demons that threatened the world with destruction. To fight back against the waves, Heroes were summoned to help combat the demons, their strength necessary to end the Waves as they would become harder and harder to fight off.
A large hourglass called The Hourglass of the Dragon's Era counted down the time between the waves, with the first one having already happened just over a week ago.
As the king finished his explanations, he smiled and held up his hands "But all that is for later, come Heroes, let us feast for the successful summoning! I shall have my servants prepare a feast to remember! So please, rest, we shall have our maids summon you when it's time for the banquet!
-To War by Jingo-
The king hadn't lied when he said "a feast to remember", it was almost 2 in the morning, and William could still hear the music and laughter happening three floors below him. And considering they had started about half past seven, it had been going on for almost seven hours now. And while the other Heroes were down drinking and dancing, the Bow Hero wasn't.
When you wanted to expand into a new industry or field, in order to be successful there were two things you needed above all else.
Networking, and information.
The first had been majorly hampered by the fact Aultocray had restricted the party solely for the Heroes, meaning no nobility or influential people. He had decided to shift targets and hit two birds with one stone; during the opening stages of the party, he had caught all three of his fellow Heroes alone, one at a time, to talk to them. The purpose for this was twofold, one he wanted to get on their good side, but second, he was also drilling them for information.
Ren specifically had caught onto the "Status Magic" suspiciously quickly, and had mentioned it being similar to a 'Brave-Star'.
And oh boy did he hit the jackpot, apparently both Ren and Motoyasu had played games that matched this system perfectly, even going as far as to closely resemble the world they wound up in. And more than that, they were apparently both from different versions of his world, alternate timelines where history had gone different paths, confirming his theory of there being more universes out there.
Talking to Naofumi, on the other hand, revealed two things.
1. Naofumi was a really nice guy.
2. Naofumi didn't know jack shit about the system, making him useless for info.
Although Will couldn't rail on the poor guy too hard, it wasn't like he knew anything about the magic system either, prior to being summoned.
After talking to the Heroes, and scribbling down everything he could as notes, he had asked for a map of the palace and beelined to the royal library ('though not before helping himself to a nice plate of steak), grabbed a handful of books from every section of the library, and cracked the first one open… where he realised that everything was in a different language, foreign from all the ones he'd learnt in his world.
He had grabbed the closest maid and dragged her over to read the books to him, before going and grabbing a different one because the first didn't know how to read.
Many hours had passed, and most of the books sat on the ground, their content already read. Some had been put back on the shelf when he had realized they contained nothing of use, and others taken down as new subjects became of interest.
Most of what he had busied himself with was world history, kingdom politics, and everything he could get ahold of about magic, with more than a few science books thrown in the mix to get a feel where this world was at in that regard.
Now he sat at an empty table in the library, the maid long gone, and his status window open.
-[William Dixie: Hero Lv.1]-
-[Equipment: Legendary Bow (Legendary Equipment), Otherworldly coat, Otherworldly clothes, Leather sack, ? #?%!.]-
The magic bow he was carrying was apparently some sort of key that allowed him to access the 'Magic System' easier than most people, allowing him to not only grow at an accelerated rate, but also upgrade it to drastically improve his stats.
The one trade off being the fact that he couldn't equip any weapon other than the bow, or else the system would punish him. Explaining the zap from when he tried to pick up his gun.
Ren had explained that the weapons were able to 'upgrade' by unlocking new forms, and that the best way to unlock new forms were from feeding the weapon materials such as mob loot or rare materials, or from copying other weapons in the same class. So for example, Ren could 'copy' a bronze great sword, and his legendary sword would be able to transform into it, gaining its stats.
And William was 90% sure this explained the large error text in his equipment box.
He glanced at the old musket laying on the table with a frown. The legendary ranged weapon was registering another ranged weapon on him, one it should be able to scan and transform into, but it was a weapon from an entirely different class than it was built to accommodate.
Some historical records had recorded the past Bow Heroes transforming their weapons into crossbows and repeaters, and even into things that shot shit closer to lances than arrows, at supersonic speeds, proving that the 'balance' of the weapon wasn't the problem. But apparently the shift from string propelled to gunpowder was really fucking with the weapon's system.
Shrugging, the entrepreneur decided to do the thing that was always necessary to make money.
He decided to take a risk.
Reaching his bow over the gun, he activated a scan of the weapon to see if he could copy it.
-[ERROR]-
-[IDxœíÝMÌ\W}ðqp2¶‰‹8DAj6l'5 "YQAP*ÑÐÒ0QTš« j»]-
Well that was expected, shame, it would have been cool to copy a gu-
-[NEW CODE DETECTED]-
-[Loading, please wait]-
Huh?
-[WARNING]-
-[NEW UPDATE DETECTED]-
-[WOULD YOU LIKE TO INSTALL NEW UPDATE]-
-[Y/N]-
Double Huh?
William blinked, before glancing back at the old musket as a smirk grew on his face.
"Upgrade from bow to gun? Yes please!" he smiled as he clicked the Y option.
-[WARNING]-
-[This update has not been playtested, and edits fundamental system code, this may cause game breaking bugs, would you still like to continue?]-
-[Y/N]-
"Yes, give me a gun!"
-[WARNING]-
-[Are you sure?]-
-[Y/N]-
William froze, his hand only a few inches from the button. The system really seemed to be warning him away from this, and the system probably knew how it operated better than he did.
He sighed before steeling his resolve, "Every empire began with one guy dumb enough to say 'I deserve better'."
And with a click, he sealed his fate.
-[PROCESSING]-
-[UPDATE INSTALLING]-
-[PROCESSING]-
…
..
.
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "Passive Skills" has been removed]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "Bonus Skills" has been removed]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "Item Skills" has been removed]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "Permanent Item Stat Buff" has been removed]-
"Wha?"
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "WeaponBranch=SLAVE" has been removed]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "WeaponBranch=TRAINER" has been removed]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "WeaponBranch=COMPANION" has been removed]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "MainBranch=MOB" has been removed]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "MainBranch=MATERIAL" has been removed]-
"Wait no-"
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "MainBranch=ATTACHMENTS" has been added]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "MainBranch=COPY" has been updated]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "PartySystem" has been updated]-
-[WARNING]-
-[Tile ID: "StatGrowthChart" has been updated]-
William leaned back, trying to get away from all the notification bubbles that covered his entire field of view, only to remember he couldn't get away, because they were being displayed directly into his brain.
Glancing down he noticed that the bow had absorbed the musket and transformed into an identical replica of it. Only the small, now quarter sized, amber gem on the side told them apart.
...Does that mean he gets to use a gun? He reached to pick it up from where he had dropped it, and-
-[WARNINGWARNINGWARNINGWARNINGWARNINGWARNINGWARNING]-
-[ERROR]-
-[IDìzËí28öò‹ÿ18V•ùª[SáµØúÚ*;ùý=þÇ'Çv{{x
?›Óý*ñÃ=ûcÿ'ÆWéçÊÜ¿kçôƒS}G õß=ÆþÌIŒoîïÛØ 1 # 1 êÐ[ËÖÕy6;{2ÏAkéª* ÝÒøÚ]-
…
Fuck.
-To War by Jingo-
Time had passed, he was dead tired, and the sun was just starting to peak over the horizon, but he's pretty sure he had managed to figure out what had changed in the system, and there was good news and bad news.
Good news, the system had managed to auto debug out most of the errors.
Bad news, compared to his original kit, and what the other Heroes have, he had probably just neutered any long term viability of his 'class' and made life way harder for himself.
Let me explain, the whole 'bow' idea, totally shot to hell. The supposed 'update' had completely overwritten anything with string based propulsion, he couldn't even change the damn thing back to its original ugly form. But that wasn't what had William worried, he couldn't even care less about that.
The first and most troubling was that the warning text said the "MainBranches" "MOB" and "MATERIAL" had been removed. Well the "MainBranches" part was easy to understand when considering it was talking about the weapon system. Ren had said there were three ways to unlock new forms to upgrade your weapon, by feeding it monster drops and rare resources, and then by copying other weapons.
The warning text suggested, and some basic testing supported the idea, that he had just locked out two of the main ways to upgrade his weapon, the Mob drop, and Material paths, so no "zombie flesh gun" sadly.
Which just left him with the copy option. But considering this was a fantasy world from the middle ages, finding another gun to "copy" into his weapon was going to be literally impossible, making that whole path basically just a joke.
The next big problem was actually a solution to a different problem. The gun didn't really shoot bullets anymore, it shot some sorta mana mock-bullet that used MP to fire instead of ammunition. Now that was a good thing, considering it meant he didn't have to try to make bullets and such, but every shot from his current gun took 20 MP, and he only had 200 MP in total. At his current MP regeneration rate, it took twenty minutes to fully recharge.
This meant that he had a ten round clip, with a twenty minute reload time.
AKA: suicide in any sort of real combat.
Which put him in a catch twenty two, he needed to fight to level up and increase his MP limit and regen rate, but actually fighting anything of value would get him killed.
The next next problem was a byproduct of the previous one: his weapon shot mana wannabe bullets, not refined enough to call magic, but because it's still mana based, it's not considered a physical attack even though it's a solid object. This meant that the two stats that would usually help this, "Attack" and "Magic Attack" were completely useless.
The way this world's laws work is that when you hit something, your attack stat is added to the attack stat of the weapon, and then the resulting number is the force that you attack with, which meant he was going to be forever stuck hitting half as hard as he should be.
Speaking of stats, the whole "Permanent Item Stat Buff" the error log mentioned meant that even if he maxed out proficiency with a weapon, or "mastered" it he wouldn't be given the small stat buff that they sometimes gave as a reward.
He had hope for the "StatGraph updated" bit, but after dragging out the error log, what it was talking about was changing his class from 'Archer' to 'Gunner', and the stats that he gained every level. Long story short it gave a decent boost in the Defence, HP, and MP he gained every level (Yay!), while reducing the absurdly high Agility the archer class was known for, down to pretty garbage levels (Nooooo…)
Another big problem was the whole "Skills Removed" thing, Motoyasu had said some weapons would give access to special skills like "Sword Beam" or "Air Shield" that you could use at the cost of MP, but NOPE, why would he be allowed to use those?
But don't get him wrong, it wasn't all bad news.
Mostly bad news, yes, but not all.
Attachments, now those things looked promising!
What he had gained from sacrificing two entire evolution trees, was the Attachments & Accessories tree. Which was exactly what it sounded like, it was a tree of unlockables that he could attach to his gun.
After trying to shove a bunch of random junk into the thing's gem, he had eventually unlocked a bayonet attachment from a kitchen knife he stole from the kitchen, a canteen attachment from a cup he also stole from the kitchen, and a compass attachment from, well, a compass he had found in his great grandfather's old bag.
[Bayonet-Attachment]
-Attack 5
Equip Bonus): Intimidation (Small)
[Compass-Attachment]
Equip Bonus): Compass
[Canteen-Attachment]
Equip Bonus): Small canteen to hold any liquid
And even after reading all the text twice over, he couldn't find a set limit to how many attachments he could have at once, so theoretically he could have infinite, so long as none of them overlapped and took up the same space when strapped to his gun. (Like the compass and canteen did, for some fucking reason).
But yea, attachments for the win, they were gonna come in clutch, he could feel it!
… oh who is he kidding, what's he gonna do, shake a compass at people, while they obliterate him with high level skills?
Besides, there's only so many things you could attach to a gun to make it better. A bayonet, a silencer, a scope, maybe a laser pointer… and yup, already out of ideas.
Screw it, it was 5 in the morning, the sun was up, and the king wanted them to report sometime before noon, he was gonna go and grab whatever sleep he could.
-To War by Jingo-
The now Gun Hero stood in the throne room the next morning along with his fellow heroes, with the weapon in his title hidden beneath his coat as best he could, it was a miracle that the others were so caught up in everything yesterday that none of them had noticed he was carrying it yesterday, he wasn't about to take the same risk now that he knew the stakes he was playing for. And while the other three were chatting about the party last night, William was busy going over every bit of information his 'Status Magic' could give him for the second time.
And his conclusion was the same as it had been before.
If Ren and Motoyasu were right about the stats that were common in end game characters, he was royally screwed.
[Aged Musket- Legendary Weapon]
[Attachments: Bayonette, Compass]
-Ranged Attack: 40
-Melee Attack: 2 (7)
-MP cost: 20
Equip Bonuses): Extended Reach (Moderate), Intimidation (Small), Compass
Who knew choosing a gun over a bow would be the wrong choice? It didn't mean he was hopeless, but he'd definitely have to use his head, because as the game was being played right now, any of the other Heroes would be able to mop the floor with him anytime after the four of them hit level ten.
40 damage was a lot for lower levels, but in the big leagues it was chump change. And because he couldn't add his own attack stats to it, he was, as stated, screwed.
"Noble heroes," The King spoke with a booming voice, far too loud for this early in the morning "I hope you had a most wonderful rest. Today you will embark on your journey to defeat the waves and to help you on this most perilous task, we have acquired the best adventures in the city." At his prompt, the doors opened and a large group of adventures poured in and presented themselves.
"Now adventurers, choose the hero whom your heart wishes to serve." The king waved his hands, and the group moved forward, dividing themselves amongst the four heroes, or rather, just between three of them.
"Wait, what's going on?" Naofumi voiced his confusion at the event as, to his utter bafflement, not a single person had opted to stay behind him. Instead they were split 4-4-4 between the other three Heroes.
"This certainly is a unique situation." Aultocray sounded bored. A priest came to speak in his ear, the king looked off to the side. "It seems rumors about you have been circling around the castle," The king stroked his white beard as he pondered. "Apparently you know less of this world than the others."
William took that moment to be happy he hadn't been dumb enough to say anything about his lack of information out loud, and had dug everything under the guise of friendly chatter.
Naofumi looked at his fellow heroes with somewhat pleading eyes. "Could you guys please help me out?"
"I'm normally a solo player, so I don't do squads," Ren stated, with a scowl "anyone that can't keep up with me will be left behind." No one of his followers moved, all of them nodding to the sword hero. He gave a sorry smile to Naofumi and shrugged his shoulders.
"Can't fault a guy for being popular, can you?" Motoyasu smugly boasted, not helping the situation at all.
"Atten-SHUN!" William wheeled on his group, causing them to all stand up straight. He might not be used to commanding soldiers, but he had seen how various sergeants and officers spoke to their troops in his time at his father's weapon company.
"Listen up y'all! In case you haven't caught the hint by now, us Heroes were summoned from different worlds, and I was summoned from one with much more advanced military theory than yours! That being said, we will be attempting to implement new and advanced military strategies and formations that combine my theories with this world's magic! With that in mind, if you are a caveman that only likes smacking things, or some kind of traditionalist, then you can pack your things and get in a different line, because I don't want you here!"
A man in expensive looking knight armor, clearly related to nobility, scoffed and walked over to Ren's line. Surprisingly though, everyone else stayed, even the brown haired girl in the front that was shaking like a leaf, some of them even looking more excited at what he had said.
Even more surprising was that one of Motoyasu's party members, the only guy in the group, looked at the scantily dressed women in his party, looked at Motoyasu, and then waddled over to William's line. Making it a 5-4-3 split with Ren coming out on top.
Motoyasu didn't really seem to care that he had lost an old guy, and went back to chatting up the girls.
Naofumi, on the other hand, did care because he still had zero people.
"It looks like you will have to gather your own followers, Sir Shield. Fear not, we shall provide you with slightly higher funds for your journey. I take it that all agree with this?" The king spoke.
The three offensive heroes nodded, and Naofumi sighed.
A guard came and gave each hero a leather bag that was full of metal coins. Naofumi's was slightly larger, but he could tell it wasn't by too much.
"Each of you has been given 600 silver coins, except the Shield Hero who has 800. Please use these funds to equip yourselves and your party accordingly and push back against the evil that assails our land."
As Naofumi began to grumble about being alone, a pretty redhead raised her hand, one of Motoyasu's women. "Sir, I could serve the Shield Hero."
"Are you sure?" The king asked, oddly concerned.
"Yes, I'm definitely sure." She skipped over to Naofumi and hugged his arm. This had the side effect of making Naofumi blush, and Motoyasu look like he was about to have a stroke,
"Will anyone else volunteer and join Naofumi' s party?" The king questioned.
No one moved. And Naofumi was stuck with one party member.
Now with all four heroes having voiced their satisfaction with the situation (Motoyasu protectively wrapping his arms around his two remaining girls), they all nodded and moved to exit the castle. As they exited the castle gates, William bid the other three farewell and headed in the opposite direction as them.
The others were undoubtedly going to go off and start grinding, maybe look for other weapons to copy, he wasn't going to be doing that. First priority was to find a place to sit down, think, and make a plan.
God knows, he was gonna need one. Luckily using his head was something he'd been trained to do all his life, he already had a few ideas that he needed to write out and see if-
William froze dead in his tracks. His eyes wide as saucers as he stared across the road.
"What…" He breathed "What is that?"
He raised a hand and pointed across the street where there were two demi humans, the first a fox girl, and the other a dog boy. Both of them were covered in bruises and wore torn rags as clothing. Frail, and obviously malnourished they limped in pain as they dragged heavy boxes to and fro', loading them into a parked wagon… the rusty chains they wore, scraping the ground as they moved.
The woman in his party he had noticed before, the one with brown hair, looked like she was about to speak up but someone else beat her to it.
"Oh that? Pssh, don't mind them, it's just some demi slaves doing what they were born to do."
The man that had left his party walked towards them. Having come from an old noble family, Mald was used to making others wait, and had lagged behind when the groups dispersed, when he overheard William's shocked question.
"I get where you're coming from though," He said with a sneer "Demi's are ugly as hell to look at, them just being here practically stinks up the entire city."
"Slaves?..." William asked quietly.
"Yeah, you should snatch one if you ever get the money, they make great stress relief- though that's only if you can stand their stink! Ha!" Mald laughed and began to walk off "See you around Bow Hero, can't wait to see how your 'advanced theories' stand up against the military formations passed down from nobility traditions!"
When he was finally gone, a heavy silence sat in the air.
…
"S-Sir, I wou-" The brown haired girl started before William held up a hand to stop her.
He told his party to go on ahead of him, to the market, and stayed behind as they left.
He stared blankly at the slaves, as they stumbled and fell, as they forced themselves up and continued to drag the boxes despite the pain they were in.
He stared until the cart was packed up and drove away, and even then he stared at the empty spot for a long while.
Abruptly he spun on his heel and marched down the street, after his party, a newfound resolve and determination burning in his eyes.
He had a plan to make.
-End Chapter-
Howdy everyone, I hope you liked the pilot chapter of this fic. I always thought the bow hero was a weak character, that didn't really contribute much to the story, and his whole "Justice for Justice!" shtick always seemed kinda hollow.
So, here's my attempt at fixing that. And yes, that means I'm sticking to the premise of the Bow Hero being a "Villain" to Naofumi- "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions" yada yada, you know the rest.
*Sips Hot Chocolate*
Now this fic is still going to function on the premise that Naofumi is the "MC" of the world, meaning he's going to be the one to stumble upon BS world shaping stuff, and juicy lore. IE: Meeting the Filotale Queen, getting Filo nominated as the next queen, randomly running into the Scythe guy by sheer luck, stumbling onto the unintended consequences of not just one, not just two, but all three of his fellow Heroes' stupidity. (The plant, zombie dragon, and famined refugies)
Any world plot advancing William does will be through direct action on his part, not just, "His Filotale is now a legendary class monster."
(Just to be clear, I'm not harping on Filo, she's to cute be be mad at)
*Sips Hot Chocolate*
Now the gun thing was something I originally wrote down as a joke. It seems like every other fic has someone bring in and replicate ballistic technology, and dominate everything they come across, so what if we have a guy bring tech from earth and have it totally backfire on them?
Like for instance, the system of the legendary weapon they're using, not being made to accommodate it, and causing a shit ton of bugs that lock out all the useful features, and just make life unnecessarily difficult.
But the irony of the joke grew on me, until I realised I liked it way too much, and then I started realising I could totally use it unironically in ways to give the story more depth, so yea.
Shitty gun hero.
*Sips Hot Chocolate*
Also yes, I know how to talk 'southern', actually I lived most of my childhood out in the countryside and then my teenage years in the suburbs. So I'm in the odd position where I can, and usually do, talk like a normal person to the extent you wouldn't even know I'm from the south save for the occasional odd saying (Also how is 'pretty as a peach' a definitevly southern saying?), I can flip at the drop of a hat, though usually it leaks out in small bits when I'm tired and/or angry.
So don't get all uppity in the comments about how you city fellas think any southern talk sounds fake, because ya' know... it ain't.