Regret and Anger - Fury and Indignance.
The emotions ran rampant through the Ghost of Walkerway as his breaths felt laborious. A splitting pain dragged him to the brink of consciousness, but his desire fueled him. His cause and his reason.
Regret nauseated him, the pain echoing deeply in his heart. It filled him, his heart hammering in defiance. The regret overflowed, his chance to blast the bastard to pieces gone.
Anger took place - anger at his foolishness, at the rashness and eagerness to grow. Anger at his weakness, at the way he was at the world's mercy. A mercy never given, not for an outsider like him.
His anger roared, its flame mounting into fury. Fury at the gang leader and his scheme. Fury at the suffering he was causing him, the agony almost masking the mockery he was making of him.
But once he stared into the cold abyss that was the gang leader's sunglasses, fury became indignance. At the world, himself, and everything his mind could think of. There was always resistance at every step of the way, always a wall and a block, always to kick him while he was down, always to put him at death's door-
Yet, he would stand up. He wouldn't let a thug take him down, someone with a heart darker than black. He wouldn't let his limbs falter, not against the worst that the world had to offer. Yet in spite of that - in spite of his efforts, in spite of his indignance - they fell short, his arms heavier than metal.
Then his mind shut down as two flashes marked the searing of his chest. Screams of pain turned into wheezes, and any power his body held was sapped by the lead embedded within.
The Gamer could look no more. His eyes locked themselves shut, a part of him wishing that the pain, the agony, would go away. That he was merely within a dream, a nightmare, but the words, clear within the ringing of his ears, doused such a wish with a lack of mercy.
"I have respect for you, but in the end, if you're not with us, you're against us. May the Brothers give you peace in hell, Atlesian scum."
He could hear the words, yet his mind could barely comprehend them. As the energy ever so slowly returned to him, his mind lagged behind, the torment ensuring his weakness.
With the faintest bit of power he could muster, he raised his head to look at his enemy, to burn his features into his memory. He would haunt this man like a ghost until he, too, suffered much the same, and both would only rest when one ended in a grave.
'But, that's how it was always going to end, wasn't it?' he asked himself.
So when the smoking barrel was all that was in view, his body resigned itself to its fate.
When the world fought back, more and forever more, he had no more to give in return. Powerlessness reflected a glimpse into what the world desired of him - a destiny he could not refuse.
A destiny he would not accept, yet one forced upon him anyway. For that, his trembling fist tightened, but no more could he feel.
Yet when his eyes closed, he began seeing.
When his ears muffled, he began hearing.
And when his heart stopped, it began beating.
Ringing filled his ears as he staggered out with a feather and a mountain in his grasp.
"I'll kill you all!" he roared before charging forward into the hallway, his target an unfortunate thug that was bringing his rifle to bear. The thug didn't get any further as a mass of limbs was shoved into his face, and a pistol in his gut. He expired within two pulls of the trigger.
The Gamer quickly switched targets to another whose gun was already flashing, the bullets lodging themselves in the dead body with a shake and shudder but otherwise blocking the projectiles. The infiltrator retaliated with a quad of bullets, three fourths meeting their mark.
More thugs streamed out of the entrance of the hallway with angry shouts and even more rifles to bear, laying fire into the bonafide firing range - riddling the blond with blood and lead. Aura chipped off as the meat shield became a mockery of cheese, the bullets enacting the massacre of rock-paper-gun with sparks on every pierce.
An attempt had been made at retaliatory fire, but the gun in his hand immediately clicked empty. Surprise led to a moment of panic as the thugs redoubled their efforts, his Aura being shaved off more than it should have been. His body recoiled with every hit, but such erratic movements only served to motivate him further. A reflection on the ground all but screamed for him to pick it up, the rifle's weight unfamiliar in his hand, but its power trusted.
Taking aim, he immediately opened fire from behind his already expired shield, taking down one of the thugs in the spray, but otherwise missing the rest of them as the gun barrel violently pointed up from the recoil. The click that followed sent a spike of annoyance through the blond, and resulted in a new, smaller, gun replacing the rifle.
The rain of fire wasn't halted much longer, and after taking a couple pot shots at his enemies he was forced to charge ahead into the hallway lest he ran out of Aura. The meat was just for show at this point, it acting more like a screen than a shield.
The Gamer launched the weight in his hand as he crossed the distance, his speed surprising him as much as the rest of the combatants. While the thugs scrambled to avoid the trajectory of the mangled remains, the blond grappled with the last thug in the hallway by his rifle, wrenching it out of his hands and whipping it back with a crack to his head before sticking the barrel in his pleading face. The corpse slackened instantly, becoming meat shield 2.0 that the blond immediately held up .
The two thugs had already recovered; the first of them rushed the Gamer with a shout and a swing of some kind of cleaver that found itself lodged in the shield with a spurt of crimson. The blond shoved his own rifle forward and folded the wannabe butcher like a sheet before discharging three bullets that sent him falling down the stairs at his accomplice, tangling them together in a heap of limbs.
His reprieve didn't last two full seconds before bullets riddled his shield and body alike, forcing the Gamer to hastily redirect the body before ducking behind the corner.
Taking a moment to orient himself, he realized he was now back at the stairway. He tried to peek from his new position to take aim only to be faced with five rifles and just as many thugs now lining the middle segment of the spiraling staircase like a firing squad.
He only had the chance to widen his eyes before they opened fire at the wall, chipping away at it along with his Aura whenever a bullet punched through its thin corner. The bullets rained for seconds on end, causing the blond to clench his teeth and resist the rubble and dust raining on his head.
Soon came his chance when three loud clicks and clear lack of bullets was noted, and that dictated his next move. With a huff and a yell, the Gamer tossed his meat shield 2.0, the improvised weapon spinning lazily in the air not unlike a frisbee before impacting the group.
A series of shouts and cries filled the hallway, the distraction allowing him to take aim at the three who weren't incapacitated. Their frantic attempt at recovering went to waste as the blond tightened his grasp on his rifle and drew a dotted line of death across the top of the stairs, scything through any thug who stood within his sights.
He kept aiming at their general location, waiting for the last two to poke a head or limb, but suddenly found himself staring at the ceiling, his legs sliding forward as realization hit him with the same power of his skull smashing into the steps.
Groans filled the area, and his head swam, but clarity was quick to come back when he felt someone trying to wrench the rifle out of his grasp. Before he could register what he was doing, he drove the weapon into their gut and pulled the trigger. Confusion filled the blond when instead of the crack of a gunshot, a dark colored brick smashed into his mask, shattering the item in question without doing any meaningful damage.
He could remember stopping to stare at the scattering bullets, but no more time was given before he saw an enlarging fist.
Catching the thug's telegraphed punch with one hand, the Gamer looked down at his other - at the magazine-less metal stick he was now wielding - then back at the thug.
Feeling baffled was an understatement at that point.
The gun-turned-glorified-stick cracked into the thug's skull, throwing him off the Gamer's body and against the wall. "Fucking-" a pistol replaced the empty firearm in a blink, and a grand total of four bullets were planted into the thug's cranium before the blond shoved the blood fountain away, leaving it crumpled against the stairs. "Bitch!".
Huffing, he got onto his feet. The Gamer would have given the offender a kick had he not been assaulted by a barrage of bullets. Instinctively, a blue shield materialized and was directed towards the source as he tried to stay on his feet despite the recoil. In that, he succeeded, and his pistol came up to end the shooter at the cost of wasting Mana. The first shot hit the thug's shoulder, throwing off his aim before the recoil had the weapon flying out of his hand and leaving him at the blond's mercy.
Of which, he had none.
A bang sounded, followed by silence and confusion. The thug was still standing, and the Ghost looked at his pistol. In terms of sliders, the pistol was now missing half of it, and another pull of the trigger saw the trigger itself falling off with a pathetic clink. It was at this moment he understood what the System meant by Extremely Low quality.
The thug, having realized he wasn't yet dead, jumped the stairs and charged the apparently disarmed infiltrator. His non injured arm was mid swing when the blond's focus returned to him. Even while startled, he made sure the strike never landed, the pistol's remains smashing into his opponent's chest, air exploding out of his lungs before the blond's other hand caught his throat.
The thug struggled and thrashed in his grasp, clawing at his mask and throwing weak punches that were all cut short by a [Mana Shield] with a dull pop. Beneath the thug's tearful eyes, the Gamer saw desperation. Madness fueled by a need for survival highlighted by hatred.
With narrowed gaze, the blond's grasp tightened, the thug's throat seemingly creaking as wheezes escaped the man before a crunch had the flailing limbs go limp, making meat shield 3.0 a reality. His arm shivered for a few moments before he held up his new shield in anticipation for incoming attacks, yet none came, and the Gamer had to look down the steps more closely before understanding why.
No thugs were in sight - at least none alive. All that remained were the bodies of the three thugs he had mowed down earlier, and the mangled remains of his previous meat shield strewn over the last thug. Said thug was limp on the floor with his head against the wall, and his neck was bent at an odd angle. A nudge of the Gamer's foot to his side elicited no movement. Supposedly dead.
The blond pulled the trigger once to ward off any surprises, then set his sights to the next floor in his descent.
He took deep breaths as one step came after the next, the smell of copper and lead becoming all too familiar in his new life. The shield shuddered as he reoriented it for better handling, and his gun shook as he felt his limb scream out in exhaustion. He wasn't done yet, a few floors remaining, but he could smell victory. The blond didn't worry when he heard a rush of steps below, especially when he was prepared for such an ambush.
How wrong he was.
Regret was immediate as a click sounded from his right and he did his best to turn his meat shield toward the danger, but the attacker was faster.
A slug slammed into the Gamer's shoulder and sent him half spinning half staggering back into the railing. The moment of shock passed as soon as it came, and his pistol was up and pointing at the new opponent now cocking a second round into his shotgun, his finger seized around the trigger.
The bullet that flew out never met its target as the Gamer flipped over the railing, and the ground below filled his vision. The reason why stared back at him with blank lifeless eyes, still clutched in his off-hand. Mocking him.
The blond barely had the presence of mind to brace before he splattered on the concrete with a meaty thud, his bones rattling as his breath drained.
Consciousness never left him, but headache and dizziness made themselves known the moment he tried to get up on shaky arms. He settled on flipping his body over to weakly glare at the sneering thugs up top.
The thought of revenge was abandoned as soon as he sat up and processed his surroundings. He found himself rooted to his spot, a gulp unconsciously hidden by an immediate rush to his feet.
"Shit…" he quietly muttered.
In front of him were a pair of double doors wide open allowing access to the main area on the ground floor. Said pair of double doors also happened to be where every other thug in the building was camping in front of. It felt as if the only reason they had yet to shoot was to gloat, but the tenseness in their poses, and the shakiness of their limbs hinted at a different story.
That was all he could see before a drop of sweat fell to the ground, his body following as no less than a few hundred bullets scythed through the area he occupied a moment prior. While it saved him momentarily, it did not shield him from the pair of slugs that blasted into his back from above. Imminent death had him rolling across the floor in avoidance, only to eat a few smaller bullets with a grimace, followed by his Aura shimmering around him with a green glow before cracking like glass when another slug planted itself in his other shoulder.
Light suddenly gave way to darkness as he rolled out of the firing range and through a door before slamming into a wall, the content of the shelves spilling over him with a wince. Groaning from the sheer amount of pulsating bruises he felt, he shakily made to stand up and inspect his new surroundings. He entered some kind of utility room, it seemed, with all the brooms and empty detergent bottles that he had to push aside to get to his feet.
The hail of fire halted for a moment as the thugs no doubt wondered where he had disappeared to. It wouldn't take them long to find him, the blond thought as a round metal object clinked its way into the room. With widened eyes, the Gamer soccer kicked the grenade out of the room only a second before it exploded, no doubt confirming his position and the fact that he was still alive. As heated air rushed against his mask, he groaned before a bullet popped out of his arm, hissing as the wound healed.
Shivering, the blond took a quick look through his inventory and status, but current resources revealed a sorry state. He was almost out of Mana and definitely out of Aura, and in terms of weapons he had a few, but not nearly enough for the numbers he saw outside. Even when counting the few Dust canisters he still possessed.
"How could I manage this?" The blond questioned helplessly while scanning the room he was trapped in. That was when he noticed a glaring oddity: the back wall was weirdly angled with a gap on one end. Upon hearing footsteps getting closer outside he set his doubts aside and tried pushing the wall forward. To his surprise it gave away easily, revealing a staircase leading down.
The Gamer took the escape route for what it was, closing the door behind him as he took to the stairs with careful but quick steps. The stairs exited into a dark hallway ending in light, but the little illumination showed two doorways into two dark rooms, one of which he shuffled into with the hopes of taking reprieve. With the illusion of safety, he attempted to meditate. Seconds agonizingly moved forwards, but time became null till he felt his Aura and a sliver of strength return back to him, and the System quickly confirmed his tanks filling.
The blond couldn't trust that the thugs wouldn't stream down looking for him, so he pulled out a gun and snuck toward the source of light deeper into the basement.
The Gamer froze for a moment as he took in the scene.
Tables lined the room from one end to the other, on them were a variety of chemical equipment like flasks, vials, and loops of glass tubes scattered around like a miniature roller coaster. On the other end of the room were piles of white bricks, which upon closer inspection was revealed to be all some kind of powder. More items littered the walls and shelves around the entire area, with some papers strewn about with chemical formulas scribbled upon them.
It was a drug lab. A massive one at that. No wonder there were so many thugs around so quickly after he cleared this area before.
But that wasn't what made him freeze. Rather, it was the dozen men in white hazmat looking suits who stared back at him in various poses of moving boxes and packing stuff around the lab.
The blond instantly trained his pistol on them, but before he could pull the trigger one of the workers raised his hands in alarm and shouted in abject horror, "Wait! Don't shoot you fucking lunatic! You'll kill us all!"
The words were almost enough reason for the Gamer to fire then and there, but after a quick glance at the various warning signs littering the area he lowered his gun, but only slightly.
The moment of calm didn't last as a pair of arms wrapped around his torso from behind, causing him to unconsciously shiver before revving up his Mana. In his moment of distraction, he heard footsteps rush from in front and back, no doubt the lab workers escaping and the thugs entering.
The Gamer was only held for as long as he allowed it - which was only a few seconds. His arms flexed and the thug staggered back, but not far enough from the dagger that materialized at his throat. That was as much as he could do before a line of enemies came into view, eliciting a click of his tongue before taking steps away from the tight hallway.
When an edge dug into his spine, he realized he backed directly into a table, and a thug made to capitalize on that. Said thug instantly received an order of Mana-empowered fist to the jaw, teeth flying into the air as the bone cracked. With a growl, the Gamer grabbed onto his near-unconscious opponent's face before throwing him away and out of sight, the shattering of glass like music to his ears.
Quickly came the second with a yell, a mixing flask in hand that swiped over the blond's mask. Widened eyes caught the miss and the retaliatory fist before it dug into his gut, and an elbow from above forcing the man to crash to the ground. Shards littered the floor along with the teeth, the steps becoming uncomfortable beneath the Gamer's feet, but the incoming stream of thugs had both him and his thoughts fly away.
Before they could catch him, he shakily clambered onto the tables, knocking equipment away as his limbs flailed about, and the thugs stared in confusion before he hurled one such piece of equipment at them - a bunsen burner. The burner, unfortunately, missed, but deterred the Gamer not as he had an assortment of throwables just begging to be used.
It wasn't as if they left him to his own devices, however, and rushed to tackle him off the table, but he, with his newfound AGI, began hopping from table to table, sometimes slamming his feet on a few faces and therefore tripping himself as well, but his improved DEX saved him each time.
Until it didn't.
His erratic pattern of hops failed him at the last minute, but not because he tripped. Rather, the thugs anticipated and made sure to line up ahead of where he was aiming to land, smashing half a dozen flasks and vials and cutting off his route by widening the gap between him and the next table. With attempted grace, the blond had the bright idea to empower his legs with Mana to bridge the gap.
One last solid step had him soaring into the air, but his vision cut off suddenly with an audible bang and his momentum died an ugly death as he met the ceiling noggin first, his mask scraping over a neon lamp. Hazily, he registered his body returning to earth towards a set of panicked faces and primed glass weapons. The blond extended his arms in a mimicry of a big hug as he finally made contact and slammed at least three bodies against the table beyond.
Groans filled his ears as he opened his eyes to the floor flush against his face, with splinters of wood, shards of glass, and some liquids that did not look nor smell like water, though the act of smelling in of itself was difficult from all the sweat that surrounded him.
Getting up from the floor proved more troublesome than it needed to be thanks to his trembling arms and the slipperiness of the liquids, but he managed to get back on his feet eventually to witness his handiwork. The table he landed against was a shadow of its former glory, reduced to countless pieces under his and his cushions' combined weights.
The cushions in question were not as knocked out as they appeared to be as one of them rushed to push the blond away in a bid to gain the higher ground. That same thug soon found his head caved in, and that dissuaded his companions from attempting a similar thing, though that stopped the Gamer none from repeating the execution.
Before he could slam his glowing fist onto the third thug, a pair of arms hauled him off the beaten cushions and directly into a table flush with glass. Mask met dust, and he was used to mop up the equipment, the endless clattering and smashing drowning out the taunts of the thugs along with his own thoughts too.
Using the table as a crutch, the Gamer pushed back against his temporary captor, and wiped a lump of glass out of one of the eyeholes of his mask to see where he stood. Around him were the thugs, encircling his position and cutting off every escape by sheer body count. Clenching his teeth, the blond infused his body in Mana, cementing himself to the ground and halting the attempts to haul him aside from behind.
Taking a deep breath, he raised one foot for a fraction of a second before stomping down onto the thug's toes, meeting negligible resistance while rewarding him with a distinct crunch of bones and a yelp of agony. The move had the thug tightening his hold, but it mattered little as he reached over his head and grabbed the thug's shoulders, putting his Mana to work with a kick to the thug's shins. The result was one thug sailing overhead and completing a perfect arc over the Gamer's head before slamming down on the table with a grinding of glass and bones.
The blond wasn't done however, and had a new item in hand, having spotted it during the impromptu cleaning of the table. A flask full of definitely-not-water liquid, what's with the greenish color and all the bubbling. The look of horror that stared back was doused with the flask's contents along with its remains digging into the flesh. A loud scream silenced the yelling gallery, the thug weakly clawing at his melting skin before the blond hurled him at his allies with a roar of anger.
His chest heaved, and his lungs burned not unlike his likely reddened eyes, but they still surrounded him. The mask flitted left and right, and with each glare a thug took a step back, though not fully retreating.
"Who wants more!?" his throat vibrated hoarsely, and his fists tightened.
Whoever would approach was going to die, his mind repeated. They wouldn't live for more than a second in his hands, not these thugs - these abominations of society, these propagators of corruption and immorality. He felt his heart pump faster, and his muscles strain further. He was one step away from pulling out a gun and shooting some random part of the room, hazards be damned, but he was smack dab in the middle.
He wouldn't die, not yet. Their lives, however, were only seconds away from midnight.
Yet, they stood stock still, glancing at each other as he did them, each with a different purpose. Whenever their sights landed back on him, they would grow tenser, their bodies more aggressive and their intent clearer, but they didn't move. The seconds of inaction were mind numbing, but precious for his heaving lungs. It was precious for them, too.
"Now!"
Electricity ran rampant through his limbs as his body suddenly arched backward, a loud screech sounding as he felt a table dig into his spine. It was the distraction they needed, one that had his eyes widened as he saw a wall of bodies incoming.
With grit teeth, he threw up several blue plates that turned the wall into a mass of flesh filled with groans. His solution was only temporary, however, and did not save his own head recoiling forward and bouncing off of the Mana shields like a ping pong.
Seeing stars stopped him not from lashing out with his hand backwards and catching an arm, bringing it and its owner forward into the horde as his shields collapsed. Shouts of triumph turned into curses and panicked shrieks as mass crumbled under its own weight, giving the blond enough space to slide across the table.
His hands rummaged as he slid, grasping onto the first thing they touched before stabbing it into the first set of eyes he landed before. A smash and a sizzle sounded as the recipient howled and fell with the remains of a face. Not to lose any momentum, the Gamer stabbed the next face over, a spurt of blood splashing harmlessly against his mask, a socket now eyeless.
Down a weapon, but not down an opponent, he slid along the edge of the table to dodge a retaliating fist, grasping a new item in the process. With a yell, he brought his hand around and planted it in the thug's other eye with a loud crunch that ensured the thug's blindness was complete.
Blinking slowly at his hand, the blond recognized the crumbling plastic bits and pieces as what should have been a pipette. He shed a silent tear - for such a fine tool to be wasted on scum, its sacrifice would not be in vain as the thug thrashed before him in a futile attempt to return the favor. One fist was caught before the Gamer had to duck under the second, but not without a startled cry as it connected with a skull behind. A twist of the thug's arm saw his shoulder rearranged, and a kick ensured he blocked his own allies' path.
When an opening presented itself, the blond made a break for the empty space he created, narrowing his eyes as he spotted an untouched pile of potential weapons. His hands only scooped a few before his vision cut off with a rattle in his skull. The elbow he sent reactively crunched something, but a clang sounded as another hit connected with his head.
With a growl, he lashed out with his arms, catching faces with a bonus of what was surely some kind of stick weapon that settled itself into his palm. An unseen grin formed as his movements turned into big sweeps accompanied by muffled smacks and the noises of cracked bones.
Feeling a lull around him, the Gamer removed the item obscuring his vision, taking a moment to feel his rage spike upon inspecting it.
It was a trash can.
Someone, possibly one of the dead flesh bags strewn before him, decided to dunk a trash can on his head. The metal canister crumpled beneath his hand, for he would-
Crack
His musings were cut short as he saw more than felt a plastic chair break on his skull and fit snugly around his shoulders. There was a pair of hands attached to it too. Only a breath was released before he swiveled around to face the dead waste of space. Terrified eyes before him turned inward as he felt a pair of pops when his Mana-empowered shoe rose from below.
He tore off the offensive plastic as the body crumpled before him, forming a puddle of red on the floor. Focusing back on the task at hand, the blond scanned the crowd before him, noting how many knees were shaking, before a movement caught his eye. Specifically, right before his eyes. A new weight settled on his shoulders, and he could see the rest of it extending beyond his face.
A step ladder. They were definitely mocking him, and he would show them similar kindness.
The weight increased as more hands found purchase on either end of the metal ladder, "restraining" him. The Gamer decided to cure their collective delusions and channeled Mana into all his limbs. Startled eyes stared as he effortlessly lifted the ladder above his head, lifting the dozen or so bodies attached before twisting around with another burst of Mana in a move he would patent as "The Helicopter."
Their screams were music to his ears as bodies struggled to stay on the ride and were flung across the lab in different directions, cracks and meaty crunches sounding as the foolish attempted to replenish the passenger count.
With a final huff and a sliver of Mana, he sent the ladder and its contents flying at the stunned crowd. Like a propeller torn off an aircraft, the ladder spun into the group, the unfortunate nearly losing their heads with the rest only delaying what was next. Seeing as he just created himself a breather, the blond quickly turned to the yet untouched pile of items with a hungry grin, and those within sight trembled before his gaze.
Items entered and left his grasp as he sent them flying at incoming fools or into the eyes of those unfortunate to enter his swinging range, a blender of death forming around him. They stood no chance of breaking through or so much as touch him with the amount of glass and various chemicals that presented a hazard of their own around his feet.
The Gamer heaved in oxygen with deep and fast breaths that bordered on hyperventilation, but he knew he was well past it as his arms burned with exertion on every swing and every punch, the sensation cathartic enough that he felt a smile mix into the sneer he had under his mask. On the other hand, the rivers of sweat that ran down his face and into his eyes were far less pleasing.
He managed to wound at least half a dozen thugs before his onslaught fell short. The blond was mid kick when someone tackled him from behind and took off in a sprint with the Gamer at the helm. He had instantly channeled Mana to his legs, of course, but the same liquids that saved him proved to be his downfall as he slid like a slab of concrete towards the oncoming swarm of thugs.
With an agitated snarl, the blond forced an arm free out of his captor's shaky hold before swinging at the wall of meat ahead. Miscalculating his momentum, his fist flew wide enough to shift their direction towards a new destination. The far less populated set of unmarked crates that decorated the farthest corner of the lab.
The spluttered curses behind aligned with his own as the two met the floor with negligible loss in speed. A futile "Watch out!" rang before the thugs flew in sync with the sparking of his Aura. In the midst of the collapse of the wall of thugs, the Gamer still felt arms wrapped around him, so he opted to grab the cause of his current predicament and feed him a few knuckle sandwiches for the joyride.
Said joyride ended with his noggin stabbing clean through a pallet in an explosion of white, and striking the wall beyond. Inhaling the bitter cloud proved to be a mistake as it burned his throat and lungs, and opening his eyes was another. He felt like he was drowning in quicksand as his arms failed to dig himself out of the blinding powder, his eyes sizzling as puffs of white dust backfired into them at the slightest movement.
Speaking of movement, something was moving on top of him with the same difficulty he was having, and he reactively latched onto them. The movements turned panicked, but it mattered little when they were both restrained and slowly suffocating under the white sand.
The Gamer felt lightheaded, and could imagine the edges of his vision darkening if it wasn't already dark underneath the pile of bricks and sand. Distant shouts filled his ears as he felt his consciousness slip between his fingers, but he was dragged back from the depths once he and the thing in his arms got yanked out of the sand.
Light invaded his eyes and shocked him back to the waking world as he croaked a puff of white, his lungs receiving an instant dose of oxygen. The shouts were clearer now, and their sources seemed to be in his arms and around him.
"Get him off! He's crushing me!" the one in his arms said. The blond didn't catch what the response was as he had his lights knocked out when something brained him, slackening his arms and letting his prey escape as he fell back into the powder.
Stunned, he failed to react as a couple sets of hands forced his head back under, powder-boarding him. Arms thrashed and feet kicked to no avail as the white burning sand refilled his lungs and eyes, and this time he could witness the edges of his vision darkening in real time with a backdrop of the all too pleased faces choking him.
He was helpless.
His emotions were immediately doused as his vision nearly blacked out. "No!" he screamed to himself. "This isn't how it will end!"
He refused to suffocate at their hands, to lose against these lawless monsters! His eyes snapped open with a deep inhale of the offending powder as Mana answered his call and filled his arms. With a roar disguised as a gasp, he took hold of the limbs drowning him, momentarily enjoying the surprise that replaced their glee.
In one swift motion, he pulled the arms apart like the bars of a prison cell, hearing the startled yelps as both bodies traded places with his own as they slammed into the pile of white now beneath him. With a final twist, he rearranged both shoulders within their respective sockets with a loud squelch.
Silence followed, and the Gamer forced his eyes open against the burning agony they were in, but it was an exercise in futility. His vision was like looking through a glass of murky water, and the eye holes in his mask were almost completely filled in with a layer of white. His hands clawed at his mask to get the powder off, but to his confusion, it only muddied his vision further.
With blood rushing in his ears, he failed to react when an edge slammed into him and staggered him to the side as he tried to remain upright before another blunt edge halted his momentum. The sudden stop bent him against his elbow and drove his own fist into his still uncleared mask, posing him as if he was punching himself while his other arm uselessly flopped over his head.
Trapped he may have been, there was a silver lining - the impact shook the powder out of his mask and allowed him to see the blurry figures now surrounding him.
Or, clearer as his vision slowly returned, surrounding the table trapping him. Discomfort and alarm had him attempt to push back, but the table and the men behind stood firm. He was too distracted trying to free himself that he barely noticed them signaling to each other, the ringing ears masking what they were screaming in plain view.
Their plan revealed itself when something smashed against his mask, followed by another exploding in a shower of glass against his chest. He ducked under the next assault on instinct, but it couldn't protect him from the hail of glass and liquid as it smashed on the wall above.
Like a revving minigun, the first assault heralded the incoming barrage. Items came flying at him in a way that momentarily broke him out of his haze, his eyes widening behind the mask. With a twinge of fear at the sheer amount, he pushed his hands forward to try and slap away whatever he could, but it could only help so much. If they didn't shatter against his slaps, then they knocked his hands off-course, opening him for a-
Once the shadow closed on him, his head rattled and his spine creaked as it dug further into what was behind. He blinked weakly, spotting a chair sliding over the table with part of it in splinters, the only respite he got before the torrent restarted in earnest.
"Don't stop!" he heard someone shout within the noise, and that enraged him.
Growling, he refocused his eyes and managed to catch something mid-air - a piece of ceramic. The gangsters' eyes widened and their target shifted to his hand, but he was faster. With a roar, he swung his hand forward, the piece cutting through the air into the unwilling skull of one of the thugs holding down the table, his body flying back into the conga line behind him.
The instant he felt their hold weaken on the table was when he finally acted, his Mana responding in an instant to his command. A loud groaning echoed from the thugs, the table screeching as it was shoved back onto them, and it was then he finally grinned.
A wall of men toppled, some managing to escape while the others were run over not unlike those done in by a car. With unrestrained glee, he lifted the table to see no less than three thugs were on the ground, but that wasn't what he wanted. He flipped the pile of wood so that its flat board would face them, spraying all manner of remains overhead.
One brave thug attempted to stop him, but the Gamer was quicker. The hateful table smashed onto the group, one of its legs breaking off into his hand. As soon as the foolish thug came within range, the table leg shattered like glass on his head, and he was finally standing free.
No more table, no thugs harassing him, only the stench of fear - their fear. Yet, he only heard a whoosh before glass broke on his head, but this time it was different. He felt his body heat up, and the lighting of the room change while someone yelled, "You idiot!"
Regardless of what he was feeling, he wasn't going to let them go free. He spun to face his attacker, but could only gasp as he saw one of them hold a fire extinguisher in hand before blasting him in unending foam. He spluttered, the foam spraying over him and even into his mask's holes, bringing blindness back onto him.
As if realizing that this was an effective strategy, the foam kept coming, and he kept moving backward, nearly slipping at times until his back met a familiar edge. In desperation, he shielded his face with one arm while his other rummaged behind him, and soon the foam stopped with a smack.
He coughed, gasping for air while thankful that whatever he threw actually hit. The blond couldn't see anything, but the lack of footsteps was an easy indicator that he was either unable to hear or that they were unmoving, and he would earlier bet on the former than the latter.
His suspicions about his own hearing turned out to be untrue when he heard something click repeatedly directly in front of him followed by a frustrated huff. It was all he needed to send a brick in that direction and enjoy the sweet sound of its impact and the subsequent noises of its target hitting the floor.
"Now!" exclaimed the same voice from earlier, sounding farther away.
The Gamer threw up a [Mana Shield] to one side while bracing himself for a hit from the other, but stars filled his blindness as something heavy met his skull and nearly lost him his footing. While dizziness reintroduced itself, light invaded his eyes with a vengeance, and his vision returned as blurry as when it left, but with an added layer of moving duplicates.
Focusing on the dented object on the floor before him revealed it to be the fire extinguisher that was used on him. Looking back up to gauge his situation, it took him a moment to process what he was seeing. A few figures littered the area around him, but at least half of them were deposited on the floor in various states of brokenness, while the ones left standing were either giving up ground or straight up running away.
Only one figure stood anywhere close, the one who threw the extinguisher if he had to guess, while another was angrily shouting and doing all sorts of gestures at the remaining group surrounding him.
The blond's vision finally cleared enough to reveal the unarmed and terrified state of the thug before him, so it was no surprise when he was downed with a single brick to the chest.
The constant shouting was starting to get annoying, and the Gamer turned his full attention to its source. One very animated thug who was now just hurling insults rather than directions at everyone. A single brick was not enough to repay the headaches he caused for the blond, for he deserved a baker's dozen.
The first few bricks missed their target with a generous margin, alerting the thug. The second wave was on target, but the thug showed a cockroach-like tenacity, jumping and rolling behind cover with a trail of white dust behind. He showed valiant effort to dodge and weave between the projectiles while aiming for the exit, but his luck ran out as soon as a brick clipped his leg, his dash turning into a tumble before his entire being was enveloped with projectiles.
Brick after brick, package after package, the man's futile resistance and screams for mercy turned into blubbering words and groans. Not a single spot showed the mook's skin color, only blotches of red breaking the white. Quantity prevailed, however, and the first to go were his legs, followed by his abdomen, and finally his chest and face. The crumbled body that remained was as white as the floor surrounding it when the blond was finished with him.
Heavy breathing filled the silence that followed, and the Gamer realized it was his own when a cough escaped him. For a moment, his arms stayed in place, stuck from his last throw, but he could see them trembling, his muscles aching beyond even the power of [Gamer's Body]. He knew that this exhaustion wouldn't last, but the best he could do was to let them rest if even for a moment.
Once his eyes scanned the area and no danger was observed, his arms came to rest by his side, his clenched fists relaxing. A shudder ran down his entire body as he felt something slide down his cheek, a drop that came from his hazardous hair filled with all manner of chemicals and glass.
"I fucking win!" his chuckle grew no more than weak and hazy laughter, but that deterred him not.
When he finally looked - when he finally observed his handiwork, he was left in minor shock. The room was a mess, not even a shadow of its former state. Tables that were arranged became walls and splinters, lab equipment became traps and danger unseen.
And the mockeries of man became obstacles on the ground, strewn like dolls and toys he played with in his childhood. Some seeped blood, others lay in positions abnormal, some both.
In the midst of all of that, a white fog filled the room, though slowly settling down on the ground with the lack of turbulence. Thinking about it, he grabbed a white brick from his inventory to observe, and his reddened eyes widened at the realization.
"Is that.. Cocaine?" he blinked, then shook his head before depositing it back in his inventory. Drug or not, it was a viable weapon in a pinch.
With a breath of finality, he began walking forward ever-so closer to the thugs on the ground, beings that were not yet XP. Their chests were rising weakly and with a stutter, some groaning hoarsely with each breath, and he wouldn't leave without finishing his job, the reason he entered this cursed building in the first place.
It was as he was claiming one such bounty in the middle of the lab that he heard a screeching noise. His head snapped towards the source as he dropped the limp corpse in his hands, and a curious sight greeted him.
Crawling away with a small trail of white and red was a thug covered head to toe in what he now knew to be cocaine. There was only so much distance he could make before the Gamer grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and lifted him up to eye level. The thug struggled in his grasp not unlike a fish out the water to no avail.
The blond's grip was steady enough to not allow such an easy escape. It was as he wound up his fist to end the thug that he begged for his life. His fist was halted for a moment as he recognized the thug as the one he barraged earlier. No wonder he was so covered in drugs and broken.
Begging for life wouldn't save him still.
With that thought in mind, his fist sailed forward for a moment before the thug opened his trap again.
"The guns!"
The Gamer's fist was only a mere inch away from the thug's chest cavity when he stopped. The guns? Like a flash of lightning, he remembered.
"The guns…" the thug heard his would-be killer mutter.
Sensing he was yet to join the dead, the thug hesitantly opened his eyes , his weak body trembling as it reflected the Gamer. Where the thug was painted in white with splotches of red and exposed skin, his eyes cast back an image of red with spots of white, and some charred patches. The thug's eyes widened further when he was pulled closer to the Gamer's wild eyes.
"Speak," the blond growled.
Parted lips and the clattering of teeth was the thug's response. Any words that he tried to form ended up as disjointed letters and noises. Feeling impatient, the Gamer held the thug with both hands and shook him a couple of times.
"Where are they!" the blond shouted, but the thug's trembling got worse, and he seemed to start fainting in the Gamer's hands, as his trembling tapered and his eyes began to roll upwards.
A loud crack sounded in the lab as the blond's palm met the thug's cheek. When he didn't utter a word, the same hand went back around for another slap. On the third he seemed to finally return to alertness as his eyes snapped open with a startled yelp.
"Alright! Alright! stooo…" he trailed off when his eyes met the blond's again and swallowed his words with a weak gulp. "I-I'll tell you, but-" The Gamer's palm closed into a fist, "Wait! wait! I just… I just ne-need you to promise not to kill me… first?" the thug forced out, wincing as he did.
For a moment, the Gamer stared at the mook in his hand. He could kill him, and he definitely would have had he not spoken, but the thugs were wielding rifles and grenades. They had an army equipped in such a small base, so he couldn't help but imagine what their stashes would look like. What other weapons they would have.
All for the price of one thug's guaranteed life.
His hands lowered a little, and the thug dared to open his eyes.
"Speak," The Gamer ordered firmly, his grip not slackening any.
"Y-your word first, or just… just end it!"
This piece of- "You have it, Talk!" The blond spat. Should this thug delay any longer or lie…
"So… uh…" the thug seemed to struggle with where to start his life saving speech, but he seemed to finally find it when he inhaled deeply.
"Yes, uh… I wa-was just stationed here… or not here here, but up- upstairs…" The thug managed to get out before looking away from the Gamer's eyes.
"It- we were… We were supposed to move some stuff around," the thug's eyes roamed over the blond's shoulder before settling back on his brown eyes, causing his body to seize up for a moment as he took in another sharp breath.
"We moved supplies. Needed- Had to be unpacked upstairs," the thug looked up at the ceiling and his brows furrowed as he visibly considered something. The Gamer's eyebrows mirrored them for a different reason.
"We also had to… uh, no… we were ordered to reorganize the warehouse too. It was a mess when I- we arrived," the thug nodded to himself as if to confirm the truth behind his words. The only effect it had was spawning a new vein on the blond's forehead.
"We had to move out a lot of… scrap to- to make space! The trucks were large, you see-" the thug continued his epic tale, but a sudden pull had him facing the cold white mask of his captor, with a very clear view of the eyes within. The Gamer's words were slow.
"The," he shook the thug to add emphasis. "Guns."
The thug's eyes crossed as he tried to stutter a response, but all he managed was a salad of "I"s and blubbering noises, prompting another shake to resettle his faulty brain to working condition.
"Right. Ye-Yeah! The guns!" The thug hit an epiphany as his eyes lit up, and the blond's hope plummeted to new depths.
"The guns, of-of course! The guns we unloaded. The guns we unloaded while reloading. Those guns- Ack!" the thug choked on his words as the Gamer's hands tightened their grip around his very exposed neck, drawing him even closer to the blood soaked mask that separated their faces. The hands shook in tandem with the thug's terrified eyes.
"I'll repeat this one last time…" The Gamer spoke with remarkable steadiness in his voice. "Where! Are! The! Guns!"
Tears formed at the edges of the thug's eyes as he struggled to form words, and his lips paled in real time. The Gamer's hold eased before the thug could fully suffocate, making him cough and hack for air.
Seconds ticked for almost a minute before the thug regained a shred of composure to talk. Eventually, he opened his mouth for a second only to clam up immediately. The thug's eyes flicked between the Gamer's eyes and over his shoulder. Unlike earlier, the thug's eyes seemed to look in a specific direction rather than wander.
A crunch of glass sounded from within the white fog that filled the lab as he spun around and used the thug as a shield like the many before him, but this time with a dagger before his throat.
A silhouette moved through the heavy fog, coughs sounding closer with each step. The shape tripped right before emerging from the smoke with a stifled choke.
"What-" he coughed, "What the fu-"
The new thug froze in place as his eyes registered the scene before him. "Fuck."
"He-Help…" the thug in his hand said before his hold tightened around his trachea, making the other thug shake with rage.
"The weapons stash or he loses his neck," the Gamer said, the dagger in his hand grazing the flesh under it in warning.
Rather than acknowledge the situation, the new thug began scanning around the two. Grinding his teeth, the Gamer drew blood with the dagger, and that snapped the thug's focus on them. "Weapon stash for his life."
The thug cleared his throat, his shoes breaking some shards as he posed himself, "No."
Just as he spoke, the System flashed his opponent's level: 22. Cursing under his breath, the blond barely caught the thug's coiling body. Suddenly, the thug was within his guard, making his eyes bulge at the incoming fist aimed for his head.
A spark of Aura on metal flashed as his dagger intercepted the hit, followed by the hostage being shoved at the other incoming fist before he hopped away to gain some ground. With surprising gentleness, the Aura powered thug caught the hostage and set him down on the floor.
"Go! I'll deal with him," the other thug didn't need to be told twice to limp towards the exit. The Gamer couldn't let him escape so easily, however, and launched the dagger in his hand with a small burst of Mana right at the back of his head, but it bounced harmlessly off the Aura user's palm as he turned to face him again.
"You fucked up, you know that?" the thug said conversationally, suddenly relaxed now that the hostage was out the door. "You come and attack us. Kill almost everyone here. And for what?" The thug gestured at the blond and the destruction around them. "Some guns?"
The Gamer's eyes narrowed, and the thug only smiled back with too many teeth.
"You think we're dumb?" The thug snarled. "You won't find them here!" the thug continued. The blond wasn't too surprised at the information. What did he expect from a bunch of scum but lies?
"What do you take us for? Rookies?" The thug sounded genuinely insulted. "Of course we moved them after your little stunt yesterday!" he added, "We're the-"
A block of white lodged itself into his open mouth, making him gag on it. When he spat it out, another came flying at him, but he slapped it away and glared at the blond with a new vein appearing on his forehead.
The Gamer had one specific finger held up in each hand. The universal sign of insult. The thug shook in place, and his muscles bunched up before he was interrupted by yet another block of white exploding on his face making him splutter and opt to run at the blond instead.
A few more bricks were thwarted before he finally reached the Gamer, at which point he redirected the dagger aimed at his throat before shoving his palm into the blond's sternum.
The Gamer choked under his mask and found himself sailing away in the air with wide eyes. 'What the-' He crashed into a table and snapped it in half.
Dazed, the blond failed to dodge the foot that stomped down on his abdomen, and the hand that dragged him by the neck up to eye level with the thug.
Before the thug could say or do anything, the Gamer poked his eyes, feeling his nails grate on Aura, but that did not mean it spared the thug the pain as he snapped his eyes shut with a howl. The thug did not see the white brick that slammed on top of his head with a puff of white mixed with blue, releasing his hold on the blond.
He didn't make it far before the thug caught up with him. Another white brick came out and was obliterated instantly as the Aura thug punched right through it and into his mask, making him stumble in an effort not to lose his footing, but it was in vain as his legs were swept out from under him.
Mask met hard concrete before he skidded to a halt. This time he immediately rolled across the floor away from the stomp that followed, then again from the hands that sought to hold him in place until he managed to get on his feet.
What little distance he gained was reduced to nothing as the thug dashed into his guard. As soon as he looked up, he realized an axe kick was already halfway to connecting with his neck, forcing the Gamer to ducked under the ridiculous assault before folding over the knee that followed, leaving him open for the third and final kick that sent him flying away again.
His Aura wasn't going to last much longer at this rate, the blond thought as he shakily got up from the floor. The thug wasn't even breathing any harsher, and he doubted the few strikes and bricks he landed did much damage.
A quick glance at his surroundings revealed that he was now a lot closer to the exit, and another glance brought all the hazardous chemicals littering the area into perspective. An idea lit up in his head, and he instantly took off in a dead sprint for the exit.
"You won't get away so easily!" The thug shouted from behind, sounding a lot closer than the Gamer had anticipated, forcing him to enact his plan prematurely.
A gun appeared in his hand as he neared the exit, and he spun around to take aim at the thug. To his credit, the thug held his hands up to block the shot. His eyes became confused when the first shot missed him entirely, and they became alarmed when more shots followed.
"Fu-!" was the last word shouted by the thug as he almost reached the gun before the Gamer's target finally caught fire and set off a chain reaction.
The world instantly erupted in flames.
It wasn't until he gasped did he realize that he had blanked out, his face resting peacefully against the dusty floor. Dizziness, heat, ringing, and a mix of other sensations suffused him as he slowly registered how his body was oriented. He was lying on his belly on an uneven surface. He cracked open his eyes one at a time and took in the scene.
Rubble was all around him. He was in the ground floor again if what he was seeing could be considered the main room that used to be brimming with thugs. It was missing some sections in the floor, and the remaining floor was cracked and upturned as if an earthquake rolled through.
The Gamer slowly stood up and dusted himself off while scanning the area with his eyes. He was near the utility closet or rather the entrance to the basement. What was left of it anyway. The door was gone, and the closet was full of rubble now. The stairs leading up were gone as well, reduced to mere markings on the crumbling walls, and bodies were scattered around the floor. A look at the main ground floor area revealed the extent of the devastation as not only was the floor uneven and sunken in some areas, the main entrance to the building was destroyed as well. Caved in and blocked by a mix of rubble and crates.
The blond stood there taking it all in. The destruction, the silence, his own ragged breathing, and his trembling hands.
He won.
It took a short minute for his breathing to even out enough that he could start moving and looting the various dead bodies in the area. Rifles, pistols, and ammunition were shoveled up into his inventory.
It was as he reached the middle of the room that he heard a noise behind him. The sound of rubble shifting. His head snapped around so hard he felt whiplash, and he saw the area around the stairs covered in a cloud of dust and smoke. His eyes blinked as an object came flying out of the cloud. Right at him. It was on fire too. Somewhere along the way his brain finally took notice of the danger, and he threw himself aside out of the way of the large flaming concrete chunk as it crashed on the ground behind him.
His eyes returned to the cloud of smoke just as a large body broke through at full sprint. The Aura-wielding thug was still alive!
"Aaargh!" was a statement said in two very different tones and voices. For the gang leader, it was a cry of rage. For the Gamer it was his heart sinking to his shoes.
The blond avoided collision and grabbing very narrowly, feeling the thug's hand glide past his hair before he slid past on the dusty floor and crashed into more rubble, buying him some time to make a break for it.
The Gamer discarded the main entrance of the building in favor of the former stairs. He reached them in record time, and suffused his legs in- he had no Mana! Looking back at the downed gang leader revealed him already halfway to catching up to the blond.
Out of options, the Gamer did the only thing he could and jumped anyway, and to his surprise, he almost made it completely up to the first floor, only having to clamber up with his legs to bring the rest of his body up. He bolted up the stairs three steps at a time immediately, already hearing the heavy crash of the large thug making the same jump behind him, and the heavy foot falls that followed. A little too close for his liking.
The inventory was frantically brought up again, and a canister was sent rolling down the stairs behind the Gamer, with a bang following it. A curse sounded as wind flushed through the stairways, sending the blond up the stairs, and hopefully hindering the gang leader. He couldn't but only hope as he saw the roof access at the top.
He made it. The blond jumped out into the night air, and switched his sight to the other roofs around. He would have to jump again, and time was running out as the heavy steps came closer and closer.
Decision made, the Gamer sprinted towards the edge at one of the lower roofs. If nothing else, it would give him a better chance at making the distance. With a final push on the final step, he was airborne.
For a moment, he had felt weightless, soaring through the night sky with his target roof getting closer and closer. Gravity chose to disagree far too soon, however, as his heart plummeted to his feet along with his trajectory, making the roof he was aiming far less likely a landing zone. With extended arms and a pinched face, he managed to grab the edge of the roof by the upper half of his body.
For a second, he was breathless and struggling to calm his beating heart. He may have been dangling precariously off a roof, but he had made the jump, and all that was left was to clamber on with his feet and he would be home free.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, had a pair of feet slam down a small distance ahead of him and send their owner rolling onto the roof. The sudden impact made the Gamer pause in his climbing attempts, and stare at the man who just landed to just confirm the fact he not only jumped after him, but also outdid him by several meters. His eyes quickly snapped off of the recovering thug and around himself for any escape.
Looking down had him seeing an air conditioning unit not too far below his feet, and his grip loosened immediately as he fell towards it. He landed with a metallic clang and a rattle as some screws popped out of their place in the wall, but the unit remained stable. A quick glance around his new position revealed a window next to the unit, and his fist made short work of the glass, allowing him to clamber through and into the dark room beyond.
His eyes zeroed in on the only door in the room, and he quickly burst through it within a couple steps out into a bigger room, the living room if the couch, table, and small television were any indication. His eyes scanned for a way out again, and was met with three more doors. He ran for the sturdier looking door of the three as it had a deadbolt mounted on it, but unlocked. His hand grabbed the handle and twisted as a crash sounded from behind.
The door did not open.
Panic shot through his veins as he twisted the handle again and again, then looked closer at it, finding a small knob below the handle for a second lock. Twisting it proved futile though as it only clicked instantly telling him the door was, in fact, unlocked as he first assumed. Hearing a second thud behind accompanied by the crunch of feet on glass heightened his panic to double and manifested a new idea. He should have some mana regenerated by now, as such, he took a step back and planted his foot into the door with all the mana he had channeled through it.
The mana was depleted instantly, but proved enough to shatter whatever lock held the door, and burst the door out against its hinges just enough for the Gamer to cram himself through the tight opening.
Outside he was met with a hallway lined with more doors on both sides, but on one end was a dead end, and the other had what appeared to be stairs at the end of it. The blond chose the stairs and started sprinting towards them just as the door behind him was smashed further beyond what its hinges were designed for, but surprisingly, the smashing was not followed by more heavy steps, rather it was followed by angry shouts and threats from the thug.
Curiosity won over once he made it to the stairs, so he glanced back to see the thug struggling to squeeze himself between the disfigured door and the doorframe. The Gamer couldn't help but sneakily smirk as he saw the door scraping against the floor as it further trapped the spitting thug.
The Gamer took to the stairs three steps at a time and made it to the roof access in just a couple flights, having already been at the top most floor of this building. He burst out into the night air for the second time this night, and quickly considered his options as noises that spelled his doom played out from the stairway. First, he locked the door of the roof access to hinder his pursuer. Second, he took a good look at the roof. There were some ladders, planks of wood, and a tool case left by one of the antennae that covered the roof. A plan sprung within his mind and was acted upon just as the door to the roof bulged outwards.
The Aura-empowered thug kicked the door off its hinges after a few slams, and came running out only to be met with no one on the roof. Turning left and right yielded no prize, yet the roof didn't have any places to hide in. In fact, the next buildings were taller too, which left only one route of escape. A crash sounded behind the thug, beyond the access door, so he sprinted to the edge of the roof. Leaning over and expecting to see the blond intruder splattered in the alley below, he saw instead the dented trash can below with what appeared to have been a toolbox. Confusion didn't last long as another crash sounded on the opposite side of the roof and the thug turned around with realization painted across his face.
Clambering into one of the next building's windows, the Gamer glanced back at the thug he duped, only to see an active volcano sprinting at him from across the roof. Whatever triumph he had felt evaporated as he hastened his efforts to get inside and start running again. One more door busted later, he was met with a bigger hall, and a choice. This building actually had an elevator, and it was only on the floor below. Another plan formed as he pressed the call button and watched it make the trip up within seconds. The plan was set in motion as the thug finally made it out into the hall just as the elevator doors closed with a ding, and the carriage began its trip downwards.
Contrary to common sense, the thug wrenched the double doors of the elevator shaft open before jumping down onto the carriage itself and ripping open its ceiling hatch, finally within reach of his prey. Save for one small detail.
The Gamer was not inside the elevator carriage.
The blond had only pressed the button for the ground floor before jumping back out of the elevator and taking the stairs up instead. If a diversion did not work once, why not try again? He had asked himself, and the answer was clear.
For the third time in a single night, the Gamer arrived at the roof of the building, and quickly made his way to the edge. Luckily for him, not every pair of buildings had an alley between them, which meant he had a few roofs within easy reach of each other.
So he ran.
Building after building were crossed, and his trail took a few lefts and rights as he switched directions multiple times before making his way down a fire escape ladder. He kept running through empty streets and dark alleys, until he deemed himself far enough to finally be safe.
Leaning on the wall in an empty alley, he gulped down air as his lungs were finally given a chance to properly compensate for all the oxygen he burned. His heart soon followed, going from a hammering sensation to a more tolerable knocking against his chest. Sweat covered him from head to toe, and his legs were alternating between agonizing pain and near cramping.
Yet, a chuckle escaped his lips. The chuckle was followed by another, bigger chuckle. A dam broke and laughter flowed out into the night, turning into full blown cackling as the tension finally left his body.
He had survived. No…
"I won! Hah…" The gamer caught his breath with a few more gulps of air, and a new thought crossed his mind.
"My Semblance…" the words passing his lips were enough to spark him into finally claiming his Quest rewards. Anticipation built as the rewards were given to him. 200 EXP, enough to bump him up into level 11, followed by the unlocked status of his Semblance. He quickly went to check out its description.
"Semblance: Liquid, and no description…" His anticipation was not hindered by the one word description, or rather the name. Of course the system wouldn't tell him what it actually did. That would have been too easy.
"Liquid… does that mean I can turn into liquid? Or do I make liquids? Do I control liquids?" The possibilities sounded great to him, so with a smile nobody but him could know of, he pushed himself off the wall, faced the alley, and held his hands out.
Seconds passed in silence as he tried to activate it, similar to his [Mana Heart], he had to search for his semblance first. Merely thinking "Liquid" wasn't enough apparently, but it didn't take him long to find a new sensation within himself and draw it out.
A splash was his reward, followed by the sound of shattering glass as his Aura dissipated around him. Looking at the wisps of light in confusion, he was sure some of his Aura regenerated during his run. Shaking his head, he looked at his hands, feeling and seeing them wet, then down at the ground.
"That's it…?" he whispered. The puddle was barely big enough to amount to a fifth of a water cup. A shake of his hands only added an extra droplet of water, and it was just water, too. Crystal clear H2O: in "Liquid" form.
His left eyelid twitched dangerously, but a deep breath followed it. He was just low on Aura, and he had just unlocked it. His Mana was no better early on, he recalled.
Gnashing on his teeth, he stared at the small puddle at his feet again. It did not take long for the torture of his teeth to stop, and for an ugly grin to form.
"If my semblance disappoints," he stared out the alley. "Then nothing has changed."
He stepped out of the alley.
Bang!
This chapter was brought to you by the Maestro of Akl, 2001st of his name (Maakl2001).