“Sir? This is the last stop. Would you please exit the train?” a middle-aged train staff member asked, looking down at the emaciated young man, trying not to stare too hard at the mess of short-cut hair atop his head.
Freddy sighed. “Thanks for letting me know.” He dragged his ass out, catching a glimpse of his head in one of the windows.
He hadn’t exactly dodged much of anything during his five-day berserk bender, and his poor, unfortunate hair got caught up in all sorts of nasty business. He’d cut it short enough that there was almost nothing left, but…
Well, he sort of looked like a lollipop that fell on a carpet. Looks like I’ll be going bald for a while…
When he first stepped out into those plains, he’d expected to blow off some steam for a few hours and then dip. It turned out there had been quite a bit more steam boiling than he noticed.
“Ugh…” He groaned as he stretched out his drained muscles. They weren’t sore—his wonderful talent took care of that much, but they were sapped of all strength. “I really need to build my muscles back…
He couldn’t use his abilities—except for the spirit abilities—without worsening his soul damage, but that didn’t stop him from using raw essence manipulation. Sure, he couldn’t do much with it, but it was better than nothing. Barely, though.
His muscles had been wrung dry.
Thankfully, those monsters were a lot easier to deal with than those that had invaded Repentawa. Other than that golem at the end, nothing had posed much of a threat to him, and even the golem hadn’t been that big of a threat.
As he left the train and stepped out into the street, he took a few steps forward, only to suddenly pause. “Where the hell am I even going? I’m homeless.” He wondered for a short bit, eventually finding a bench in a small park.
The city was truly stunning. It was late in the Faralethal day, with the false sky already darkening. Far above him, flying constructs of all kinds buzzed about like flies in a field, and the buildings lit up, the windows showing the briefest glimpse of human presence within.
He clicked his tongue and scratched the back of his head. “Lobotomizer? Really? What a stupid nickname.” Hopefully, nobody would ever connect him to that embarrassing moniker. And really, they were throwing around such cool names at first. They could pick from all that, and this is what won? “Fucking perpetual lobotomy machine, I’m gonna kill the dude who made that joke.”
He pulled his phone out of his storage ring. As it reestablished connection, it buzzed with the notification of a missed phone call from Vladimir. Freddy sighed. His finger went to the call button, but he put it down, storing the thing away again.
There was about another whole week until he saw the soul therapist again. In the meantime, well… he supposed this was as good a time as any to decide what he was going to do.
The city of Starhold was… well, it was fun. He couldn’t deny it. He was filthy rich, and this place was teeming with cool things to spend money on. But…
He wasn’t sitting far from the street where people were walking, blaring their auras like there was no tomorrow. Many of them turned his way, and sneered, be it at his shitty haircut, his simple clothing, or the lack of medals upon his chest.
Freddy was trying not to be bothered by it, but fuck did it bother him. His eye twitched as he resisted the urge to shout “The fuck are you staring at!?” at the few glancing his way, but the odds of starting a fight were well above zero, so he refrained.
This was the problem.
Starhold had a pretty gross culture. Almost everyone living here was the exact kind of person Freddy hated the most. And sure, if he whipped his badges out, he could enjoy a rather privileged position, and could turn those sneers into respectful nods in an instant.
But…
He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands as he released a slow breath, trying to clear his head.
He knew himself well enough at this point. He had just spent five days straight in a blur of gore and death. And he’d had fun. A lot of fun. The piercing headache had been eased, and he felt at peace with himself.
When was it that he’d fallen so deeply in love with violence? Or, well—”Bloodshed, huh…?” He snorted. Perhaps this was the real reason why the little skeleton was so enamoured with him.
Despite the fact he had soul therapy to attend, he didn’t have to live in Starhold. He could move back to Pittersville somewhere, maybe even a neighboring city. Somewhere smaller, with fewer people; fewer assholes. Maybe take up a hobby or two, and take a break from all the bullshit.
Or…
He could stay here.
He closed his eyes, and just took it in, both the bustle of the city, and the silence resting beneath it, and the madness, further down, simmering like a pan of hot oil. As he opened his eyes, he looked up, far into the sky, to the many pieces of property floating above the city. Reaching a hand out to them, he smirked. “I wonder how much one of those costs…?”
After extracting the phone, he called up Vladimir. The man had offered to show him around the city, and there was no way Freddy would say no to that. Besides, he was in a mood to see his favorite business—
“Oh, good, you finally picked up.”
“Hello, Vlad! Took me a while, but—”
“Shut up and listen. We have to meet, now.”
Freddy’s expression darkened. “What’s going on?”
“In short? We’re royally fucked.”
***
Inside a massive apartment in one of the bigger buildings in Starhold, Freddy sat beside Vladimir in the man’s luxurious home, a gruesome scene splayed out on the table before them.
A number of organs of different sizes were lined up on the table, the two men looking over them with dark expressions.
Freddy massaged his temple, veins visible across his forehead. “I think I’ll have to go kill something again…”
“I was afraid of this…” Vladimir said as he took a big gulp of his whiskey. “Fuck.”
The organs laid out before them were Freddy’s. But they also weren’t.
The world of archumans was unpredictable. People had all sorts of incredible powers, and innovation was a constant. Those who got hold of an advantage rarely held on to it for long.
Pale Moon Industries, a business conglomerate that reigned as one of the biggest players in Starhold, owned by the Severe Clan, a family famed for birthing a wide variety of geniuses in different fields, released a new product. One of their recently-acquired companies started practically printing high-quality organs.
Organs that just so happened to match Freddy’s DNA.
Somehow, they had managed to clone the tissue. Usually, that wasn’t enough to keep all the supernatural properties. Usually. But they had either gotten their hands on someone with the right talent, or invented a new method of tissue cloning, and now, they could not only keep all the juicy benefits Freddy’s organs provided, but could also add more.
Freddy clenched his fists. “Its my fucking tissue! My body! My goddamn DNA! This has to be illegal; can we sue them?”
“Nope,” Vladimir scoffed. “Well, legally, we’re in the right, but it doesn’t matter. They have more than enough money to bully us indefinitely. There’s no precedent for something like this, either, so the law would move especially slowly.”
“What if I called on the—”
“Umbra Clan? Forget about it. Their neutrality necessitates staying out of legal disputes like this. Besides, they wouldn’t go this far to protect you. Or anyone, for that matter.”
Freddy gritted his teeth. “Hey. Could we—”
“If you’re suggesting we go and beat up one of their higher-ups, I’ll kindly remind you of the clan that owns them, and the Overlord who reigns as their current head.”
“Hey. Vlad. Be honest with me—can we even do anything?”
Vladimir looked away. “Not really. We can keep selling, maybe. But the price will keep dropping, and dropping, and dropping… I know how Pale Moon do things; they won’t just stand by and watch us drive the price down. Odds are, they’ll eventually knock on our doors. They can’t kill us, but they can bully us in a billion other ways. It’s not worth the trouble.”
“So you’re saying—”
“That it would be for the best if we stopped selling altogether, yes.”
A vein showed on Freddy’s neck, so crisp and clear that it looked like it was about to explode. “What about our contract?”
Vladimir laughed. “You know damn well what.”
Freddy looked away. The contract was skewed heavily in Freddy’s favor. Heavily. He had no legal obligation to pay off the debt in any way other than through the organ sales, and if they couldn’t sell… he didn’t have to pay. “How much more did I have to pay out?”
“270 billion dollars.”
Freddy winced. “Fucking ouch, dude… I’m so sorry.”
“How sorry are you, exactly?”
Freddy cocked an eyebrow.
Vladimir scratched the side of his jaw. “I don’t exactly want to pull this card, but…” He suddenly jumped, grabbing Freddy by the leg. “Holy Lord, Freddy, you gotta help me!” He broke into panicked tears. “That was almost all my wealth! I’m screwed!”
“Okay, buddy…” Freddy tried to pull his leg back, but the man was holding in an iron grip. “How about you let go of me first!?”
“You wouldn’t let me take the fall like that, would you? Remember all I did for you! I gave you a city, Freddy! A city! How many others would do that!?”
“I get it dude!” Freddy somehow flung the man off. “Jesus!”
Vladimir turned to face him, eyes full of tears. “You’re gonna leave me holding the bag, aren’t you!?”
“Just calm down, okay?” Freddy shouted, raising a palm in the man’s direction. “Let’s think for a moment. You’ve helped me a lot, and I don’t want to be ungrateful. But let’s not pretend like you’re some selfless saint who was helping me out of the goodness of his heart. I can help you, but let’s be realistic, here. I don’t owe you that money.”
Vladimir’s lips twisted into a frown. “I see.” He wiped the tears with a sleeve. “You’re right. I’ve gambled with everything I owned to give you a vast sum of money, and now I’m gonna eat shit. I even went down two stars to protect the city I gave you but that’s hardly worth mentioning.”
Freddy’s eye twitched.
Vladimir turned around, dramatically staring out the window. “I even lied to the investigators about your friend…”
“Okay, I fucking get it, dude. And again, I didn’t say I’m not gonna help you. Just be reasonable.” He sighed. “What do you want?”
“Form a party with me.”
Freddy scowled. “Dude. My soul is still cooked. I can’t even use my abilities yet.”
“Not even your spirit abilities?” Vladimir raised an eyebrow. “Such as the one that summons the massive skeleton?”
Freddy narrowed his eyes at the man. “I can, but…”
“Then what’s the problem? Let’s be real Freddy, you make for the perfect tank, even with just your physical power and talent. Fully healed, you’re the best two-star anyone could wish for in their party.”
“Do you see these?” Freddy raised his arms, which barely had any muscle on them. “You want me to tank with a body like this?”
“Didn’t stop you from fighting on the plains for five days, did it… Lobotomizer?”
Freddy winced. “Goddamn it.”
“Freddy, you have to help me!” Vladimir begged, dropping to his knees again. “I’ve already taken the severing elixir! I don’t have an easy way back to the fourth star anymore! And now I’m broke! What fucking Lordship, I’d be lucky to make it back to the peak of the third star at this rate!”
“Okay, fine! We can delve together if that’s what you want. But you’ll have to respect my limits, and I want seventy percent of all the money we earn.”
Vladimir choked. “Seventy!? Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Oh, please, we both know who’ll be doing most of the work, anyway.”
“Hmph! Don’t forget that I used to be an adjudicator. Unless you beg the Umbra Clan, without my influence, you’ll struggle to get access to good dungeons.”
“I could just beg the Umbra Clan, though?”
“They’d expect favors in turn, and we both know it.”
Freddy clicked his tongue. The man was right. “But why would we even need quality dungeons?”
Vladimir paled. “Freddy, please don’t tell me you think we’re gonna delve into the wild interspace…”
Freddy cocked an eyebrow. “I mean… isn’t that easier than dealing with all the bullshit politics of private passages?”
The man burst into laughter. “This isn’t an ether desert, man… the wild interspace is insane here.”
“I know that,” Freddy said, crossing his arms. “But I’m still confident I could at the very least survive. And from what I know, that’s the best place to earn money.”
“Have you ever been to a quality dungeon before?”
Freddy was about to cite his visit to the Fortress Dungeon, but… that place wasn’t exactly it. He did get a very nice unique cursed item there, but that was just because he’d accomplished something incredible. And even that had basically closed the dungeon down. “No, not really.”
Vladimir grinned. “How about you and I go for a little test?”
“Hold the phone.” Freddy raised a finger. “I’m dead tired.” He raised a second one. “I’m homeless.” And a third. “And I still haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
Vladimir nodded. “You can rest here if you want.”
“Still—”
“Just trust me on this. I will get you into a dungeon I think you’re going to like very much. It won’t even be hard for you. Promise.”
Freddy eyed the man. “Fine.” He crashed on the man’s couch, rolling over. “I want something nice to eat when I wake up.”
Vladimir smiled. “Anything for my golden goose.”