Viscus hummed as he stared at the hunk of metal in front of him, the safe as impenetrable as the moment he saw it. The blond didn't doubt that he could come up with a way to crack the safe, but it would most likely employ more destructive means than the hotel owner would like.
So he decided to store it back in his inventory and wait till the next day dawned. He sat on a chair with a cup of coffee in hand, its dark color as blunt as its taste, but it was something he couldn't help but appreciate.
As he took careful sips, he recalled the way he escaped from the building. He should have predicted it. When he first saw people loitering around the building, he should have expected the incident to gather more and more onlookers, but he was still surprised when he saw an entire horde outside the hole his Dust made.
Thankfully, there were no cops or huntsmen standing outside, so all he had to do was run away from the area. Unfortunately, some people were a little too eager to know who he was and chased him for nearly 10 minutes straight, but he was able to evade them by running into an alley and utilizing his [Stealth] skill till they lost interest.
Viscus shook his head and glanced at his new clothes, a blue shirt with an oasis drawn on it and brown shorts, a combination that he didn't know whether to cry or laugh at. It was the best he could find, and it would do until he could meet Blayne.
He held himself from crushing the cup in his hand, taking deep breaths.
"I'll get the job. It was worth it." He muttered to himself before downing the rest of the drink.
In the meantime, he decided to inspect his gains from the System, and plan his next moves. With a new level came stat points, 4 to be exact, and a new quandary of where to slot them. Had it been the Viscus of yesterday, he would have chosen STR or DEX, but he found himself hesitating while hovering over them.
Some things didn't make sense. Things like his sudden spike in accuracy at times of need, especially apparent from the moment he held a gun in his hand. Prior to Remnant, Viscus had no experience with using guns beyond some general knowledge and some snippets on what a gun was, which meant he shouldn't have been able to handle a gun like he currently was.
His shots hit when he desperately needed them, but how?
And that was where last night's notification came into play. Always when he scrolled through his notifications, he would pass by ones mentioning Luck, but he never gave them any thought. Clearly, he was unlucky for even being in here, but once he discarded that thought, some dots began to connect.
The biggest and most prominent was last night's fights, and he focused on the time he shot the Dust canisters along with the other when he shot the boss's gun out of his hand.
"There's no way I could have done that." He muttered to himself as he placed the cup in the bin. "Luck must be playing a role in this."
And it made sense that way. His aim being dead-on when he was flailing around with the gun, when he was most stressed and unstable, should then be attributed to his Luck doing something - anything really.
"I'm going to need all the Luck I can get." He took a deep breath and closed the status screen.
For the rest of the night, he would try and raise more of his stats, and curb his expectations for what might happen tomorrow. Viscus dreaded what he might do if he was majorly disappointed by then. As such, he wouldn't give himself the chance to do so.
"Alright." He hyped himself up, and the night passed in a blur.
-CEM-
Viscus had a bit of a conundrum. A small issue, not helped by the size of the object in question. When he left the hotel and got in viewing distance of the shop, he realized he wasn't exactly carrying anything in his hands, and from the glassy tint above the store's door, he knew he wouldn't be able to take the safe out of his inventory and be done with it.
"Time to find an alley." He huffed and a minute later stood in front of the shop, his vision half obscured by the massive load in his arms.
With his current strength, it didn't feel as heavy as it should have, but it still brought some strain to his arms, and he didn't want to use his mana wantonly. Hiding his inventory was hard enough, and enhancing himself with mana made his body glow blue, which was not his Aura's color - lime green.
He stood for a few seconds, wondering how he might enter the shop this way until all his hair stood as he felt two taps on his shoulder. In an instant, the safe was up in the air and Viscus was face to face with the aggressor, arms held ready for combat, adrenaline surging.
"Woah there, bud." The aggressor, Blayne, took two steps back with surprise in her eyes, "That's one heck of a reaction."
Viscus blinked, and a loud crash came as the safe touched down on the road, a fissure forming in the asphalt. Blayne whistled, and the Gamer lowered his stance while trying to calm his breath.
"You know, I didn't expect you to straight up bring me the safe." She chuckled, "But you came to the right place. Grab it and come on in."
The Gamer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay, give me a second."
Once they entered the shop, Blayne dragged him behind the reception and into the corridor. She tapped her lips while glancing at the rooms until she exclaimed with an "Aha!" and rushed to unlock one of the doors.
Viscus was barely able to see what was happening courtesy of the hunk of metal in his arm, but he soon regained his sight as she ordered him to place the safe on a table at the end of the room. In the meantime, she began rummaging through the items splayed on the ground, kicking up dust everywhere.
Taking the chance to look around, Viscus noted a high amount of weaponry stacked on top of each other on one of the tables, and tools of unknown nature right next to them. When Viscus tried to move, he hit a piece of metal that slid under one of the tables, making him wince as it slammed into the wall with unnecessary power.
Blayne was clicking her tongue while throwing around tools, one of them nearly hitting Viscus in the head before he automatically dodged, and the item broke the pyramid of weapons, the balance gone and with it the weapons to the ground and around.
"Here we go." She stood up with a grin while holding something that Viscus couldn't decipher.
"So.. How are we going to unlock the safe?" He tilted his head, and she hummed.
"Watch."
With the tool in her hand, she stuck it to the safe near the lock mechanism, and it started glowing. Two seconds later he heard unlatching, and that was enough for the Vacuan to laugh while removing the tool away.
"Remind me how we were going to split things?" She asked while pulling the safe's door open, and Viscus responded with the 25 to 75.
The ratio still made him frown, but he reassured himself that the immaterial reward was worth more than whatever was in the safe. While he was in his own head, Blayne whistled while laughing. "Hehehehe.."
Viscus peered over her shoulder and he couldn't help but gulp at the content. Wads of lien, too many to count, stacked neatly in one compartment, along with what glimmered enough for the Gamer to consider gems, and some papers in the compartment below.
"They didn't call themselves the Hoarders for nothing, huh bud?" She began taking out the lien and rearranging it on the table. "Help me sort them out."
It took around 30 minutes for them to be done, and the loot tallied to 20 thousand lien excluding the various gems they collected. "Alright, so these should be your 5 thousand, and I'll take the rest."
"And you'll vouch for me with your dad, right?" Viscus raised his brow, and she blinked in return.
"Right, right. I'll go tell him right now." She bundled up the lien, and Viscus couldn't help but wonder.
"If you don't mind me asking, is all this lien yours?" At that, she raised her own brow.
"Of course not, we only paid 5k."
"Are you going to give the rest back to the other shops, then?" That made her chuckle.
"What are you talking about? I'll give dad back the 5, and I'll keep the 10 for myself. Also, you can keep the gems, though I'd like if you left out that one for me, and we'll call it even?" She pointed at one large ruby.
Viscus's mood clouded, but he sighed and nodded. She handed him his lien and gems before dragging him out of the room and telling him to wait back in the store proper. That gave the blond some time for himself, and he decided to explore the shop with it.
While standing with his back to the desk, he couldn't help but note how nearly everything was visible for him to see. More likely than not, the shop was designed in a way to allow the employees to be observant in all cases, and that's excluding the cameras hidden in the corners.
With the shiny silver and gray aesthetic of the shop, he couldn't help but wonder how often they had to mop up the dust and dirt. Along with that, there was a large selection of components that he didn't understand how one could memorize and be familiarized with all of them. He groaned, realizing that he had to do the same once he started on his crafting journey.
Trying to test the System, he walked to one of the shelves and began inspecting it, sighing as nothing appeared to explain the world to him. That led him to the magazine section, something he could at least read and pass time with. On his way, he couldn't help but marvel at the holographic weapon floating near the rack, so he tried poking it.
His finger passed through it, an obvious result, but he wondered how it even worked considering it was in Remnant. Was it a light thing, or was it the hardlight Dust in play? He got bored after a few seconds and picked up a magazine, words nearly illegible but it was something to pass time with. Fortunately, it didn't take long for Blayne to enter back into the shop, though with a frown on her face.
"Alright, Viscus, I have some good news, and some bad news, which do you want to hear first?" She leaned on the desk, and the Gamer's face darkened.
"Let me guess, he still said no?" She solemnly nodded, then made a small smile after.
"Good news is that I've talked with him about you still wanting to learn our craft, and he agreed on one situation only." Viscus urged her to hurry up, and she continued.
"Basically, we can set up time every week for some private lessons with yours truly, but they come at a fee. 100 Lien per session, that fine with you?"
"Wha- Really?" Viscus pinched the bridge of his nose, holding down his anger. "So you want to tell me that he really doesn't want to employ me that much, just so he can squeeze some lien out of me?"
"Stop there, bud, that's not the reason." She clicked her tongue, "I don't know what he exactly sees in you that makes it so difficult, but at least we found a compromise."
"And that compromise is me paying lien to learn what I could have if I was just employed." His words reeked with venom, "After I got you back the money and got rid of the gang that's been harassing you, that's how I get paid back."
"Bud, look here. I tried talking him into it, and that's his limit. Believe me when I said I tried to convince him, and he was thankful for what you did, I was barely able to make him accept that idea. So yes or no?"
"No, I'll just look elsewhere." He stomped away, "Good day."
"I see. If you ever change your mind, don't forget that the offer is still there. We don't forget what we owe."
The shop door closed with a ring, its sole inhabitant sighing.
-CEM-
Viscus didn't understand how people functioned in this place. He does something for someone, and he gets paid back with nothing but a fraction of what he was owed. "I hate Vacuo."
The phrase repeated in his mind, the word Vacuo itself beginning to sound like an insult to him. He hated it so much that he couldn't find words to describe the degree of hatred he had.
While walking, he nearly bumped into some people, but he was in no mood for apologizing. Anyone who looked at him funny rushed off when he looked them in the eye, and that made him feel even more awful.
"So now people fear my glare. Great." Viscus saw the silver lining, but it didn't replace the bad of it.
He couldn't help but pause when he saw a patisserie, and that made him gulp for a second. "Maybe I should treat myself with some cake. I have the lien for it, after all."
The near 6 thousand lien he had in his inventory wasn't lying, the number surpassing that of the quest objective by 5 times. So he didn't hesitate further, and minutes later he was out with a bag in his hand, and eyes filled with vigilance.
No one was stealing his sweets, not today. Normally, he would beat them up if someone tried, but he would simply kill in his current mood if anyone attempted it. No heist was to be made on his food.
That didn't stop people from looking at the bag in his hand, though, so he made sure to let them know what would happen if they came within arm's reach. Midway through, he passed into a convenience store to grab himself a bag of paper plates and some disposable utensils, a kitchen knife, and a bottle of soda. They would do, he thought to himself.
Thankfully, no one made an attempt on his sweets, and he was soon back in the hotel in his room and preparing the table for his attack on cake. Some might have said his gaze looked murderous as he stared at the cake, but there was no one to point it out, so he was none the wiser.
A few minutes later he was sitting in his chair, a piece of cake on his plate, and a sad smile on his face. He savored the first bite, closing his eyes while listening to the TV. It seemed to be the ending of some random show, and some advertisements came after.
Bite after bite, he felt sadness consume him.
Nothing was going right. Everything was just getting worse and worse, and he felt himself getting more and more desensitized. His heart didn't hurt as much when he looked into the future as he imagined more blood, blood on Viscus Lime's hands, and he would be painted by it.
He would be surrounded by death, in a world not his own, and he would be alone, for no one could empathize with him. Especially in this cursed place called Vacuo, and he couldn't help but repeat a string of curses for this place in his mind.
After he took one bite, his ear picked up a voice on the TV, and his eyes caught the sight of a burning building.
"Yesterday, one of the buildings in Walkerway street caught on fire that, according to the authorities, was due to the fire Dust accident." The screen zoomed in on the roaring flames, and Viscus saw the heads of people below.
The spokesperson then went into a warning about safety hazards and careful use of fire Dust, but Viscus closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Right. Remnant."
No doubt, there was censorship occurring here, and why wouldn't it? Had it been about a gang fight, negativity would mount, and more Grimm would be attracted to the city, more than they already were. He sighed after finishing his first piece, then went to grab another.
"Happy birthday, Viscus." He muttered to himself, "3 Days late, but better than never."
It should have been on the 2nd of July, but Viscus didn't know when exactly he was in Remnant. He forgot to check the calendar, but it didn't matter.
For today, he would enjoy himself, because tomorrow, he would be back on the job hunt. Thankfully, he wouldn't need to go on his nightly hunts, the bounty giving him some leeway.
"Cheers." He drank the bubbly drink, the feeling in his throat distracting him from the single tear sliding down his cheek.
Pasta reawakens for a mid-course chapter. A curious thing, indeed.
So we conclude the brief yet messy heist, with another disappointment for Viscus, and a night of loneliness to seal the deal.
Had it been Pasta from a while back, the chapter would have reached a more favorable ending for Viscus, but I saw an opportunity for a better story. I took it, obviously. If you want to blame someone, blame Maakl2001 for encouraging me to go on like this (don't, we are both accomplices here).
Now then, you may skip onwards if the rest won't matter to you, but this is a "tiny" complaint on something that made me really upset.
See, sometime on the website RR, I found a Gamer story that I quite enjoyed. It featured some things I disagreed with, like a ton of "Inspect" and word count bloating brought to you by the System, but I trudged on.
Here is what Pasta is really complaining about, and you might recognize it if you read that story, but I won't mention any names.
Interludes.
At one point, nearly half the chapter count was interludes, stalling the real story for so, so long.
Now I'm saying this, not as a writer, but as a reader just like everyone here. Please. When you read a story, you look forward to the events that are happening, and the progression the character goes through. So when a writer halts everything and releases weekly, and decides to give you weeks of two or three interludes in a row, then something is wrong.
I strive to avoid that in Dragged Along (hence currently only one chapter not of Viscus's POV), and all of my stories really, because I try my best to look at things from the POV of the reader.
This went on for too long, and I'll try to avoid long rants like this again, but I hope anyone who wishes to write be mindful of what I said - from reader to reader.
Pasta bids you a great day/night, and promises that there is more to come, though with an unspecified date. Take care.