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ZachSkye
ZachSkye

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Knives & Levels - Chapter 67

Colt snuck toward the apartment he’d seen the face in, using a burst of Movement to close the distance from his open position on the street to being near the towering eyesore in only a second. Julia still stood in the middle of the road, shuffling through the rubble that had been their enemies. It was her job to pretend as if everything was normal. In seeing her looting, she would lull them into at least some security.

Neat and tidy. Colt pressed a hand against the wall and then, with one quick Phantom step, went straight through it.

The room he’d entered was a barren place, with plants taking over the bottom floor—a tree broke out of a nearby window, like the streets outside. Here, too, nature had kept on its endless march, taking over every single battleground it came across, untested by humans.

Leading to the main stairway, though, Colt saw a footpath. He crept closer to confirm his finding and felt a flush of encouragement at seeing the stamped-on plant life here. Whoever came here came frequently enough to cut through these things, which said a lot. It significantly lowered the chances of this being a scout from New Nashville.

Feeling reasonably sure this wasn't a New Nashville scout on their way to hunt him down and get him killed by Denny, came the question of how to approach. He went over his options.

He could of course phase through the floor and approach as a ghost—that kind of method would give him the drop on these people and have him far more prepared for a potential conflict than them. Another was to make a show of walking in, giving them the space to prepare their own defenses and have all the leverage.

He could be arrogant and assume whatever they had didn’t add up to anything he couldn’t handle.

That had been his method with New Nashville, and with how that had turned out, it wasn’t a road he felt eager to tread down once more.

Information.

That was the trick: spy, then adapt the strategy. So, like a ghost, Colt jumped upward, pulling a bit of Movement and activating his Phantom’s Gambit to go directly through the floor. Once there, he waited, recalling that they seemed to be on the fifth from the face he saw in the window—but, waiting, he listened for steps above, trying to be sure that no one was there.

Once confident, he jumped floors again, phasing up to the next level.

———

Phantom’s Gambit (Intermediate) has gained a level!

———

Colt blinked away the notification, feeling the wash of pride over him at yet another advancement of the Skill. It’d turned out to be one of the most versatile in his arsenal, and he felt himself stretching it more and more through use.

Most skills were like muscles; they just needed the right amount of abuse and stretching to grow.

He focused in again, listening to the above floor. There still weren’t any people, not that he’d expected them until one more floor—and when he felt reasonably sure no one was watching out for invaders there, he took another leap of faith.

It was there on the fourth level that he heard the people above. And he lay, quiet. Thinking.

“What’re we gonna do? It’s that city, I know it is. They found us.” An older voice grumbled as they paced back and forth above.

“Calm, calm. Pops, we don’t know what we don’t know—it’s not like they seen us.” Another voice said—this one lingering closer to the window.

“Yeah, then why is that girl picking around rocks like it’s her job? We’ve killed one of those things before; there’s nothing there—and God, did you see the way that guy just tore it apart? Like it was nothing? We’re fucked! Why didn’t we leave!” began the first.

“Ssssshhh. Easy, easy.” This time, a softer voice called out. This one was a woman.

They kept at it like that, arguing and discussing the fact that they should go, while others kept protesting that it was better to stay and asking what they would do about food. Colt listened with an apt ear, tracking the movement above and putting the locations to the voices.

There were about eight people up there, camped out. And now, for sure, with their confirmation, they weren’t in league with New Nashville; they didn’t exactly seem the ‘bandit’ type either, but in a world like this, it would be hard to say conclusively until he got a look at them and talked. Even then, in desperate situations, people resorted to desperate measures.

Colt waited, having gotten enough of a sense of their power as a group with how they talked about the monsters. Sure, he was a bad match for the rock creature, but any real threatening groups wouldn’t have been surprised with how he dealt with them.

He also reached out with his Soul—it was… Well, his awareness grew with it through every single point of Soul he invested. It felt like almost a sixth sense at times.

Above, he felt the trace of a couple of Edicts imprinted on the people. Some of them had managed to wield the might of the universe in their hands, but none felt all that dense to him. Not like a Greater Edict—so with that last bit of information confirmed, he used Movement and propelled himself downward with another Phantom’s Gambit.

This time, he struggled with stretching movement and his skill to slip through all of the floors until he reached the very bottom in a single motion.

He softened his impact by stealing the momentum at the last second, taking in one deep puff of breath at his continuous and rapid burst uses of his Edict. Movement was more cooperative than ever, fully in the depths of having it as a Lesser Edict.

Eventually, he would be able to drive forward to the Greater status—but he was too afraid to cross that threshold. What came after that, he still wasn’t sure. With Cut, it felt like there was a wall there blocking progress.

Colt got up and walked to the wall he’d entered, phasing through with another burst and then finding himself right back on the misty street with Julia nearby. Colt fought the instinct to give another look at the building and then called over Julia for a chat.

The simplest, more amicable method was initiating communication and coming to even grounds. Not that he thought they were a particularly threatening group.

Colt knew they were watching, went over the details with Julia…

And then, he cupped his hands on his mouth and shouted, making sure to use his Edict to know without a doubt that the words Cut directly through to the people up there.

“We know you’re up there. We’re not with New Nashville. We want to talk. We have an offer.”

It was straight, to the point, and maybe not the most diplomatic one could imagine, but between Colt and Julia, they didn’t really fathom a better approach. Knowing that if these guys turned violent, they could handle themselves was plenty enough.

Time passed.

Colt saw shuffling near the window. More discreet now but present. These folks weren’t experts at stealth either.

Another ten minutes passed. He sat on the corpse of one of the rock monsters, his eyes always keeping a firm lookout should any others appear or if another person decided to wander down the wrong road and run into them.

As he sat in the light of the day, less coated by the mist he’d grown used to in Nashville, his nerves began to fire. Second guessing his approach, wondering if he couldn’t have tackled it differently. They wanted to cooperate with others… But to do that, you had to extend trust toward them so they could meet you at the table and come to an agreement.

However, for him, extending that trust… was always a hard goal to reach for and even harder to follow through with.

Even now, he felt his hand tightening on his knife, shifting left and right.

Julia set a hand on his shoulder. “You’re nervous.”

“A little.”

“Why? Man, you can take down stuff and go in and out of buildings like a ghost. Your rogue build is broken. I know your type would much rather sneak around—but everything will be fine. Just relax, you’ve got this.” She reassured him, and Colt felt just a little more at ease.

“Besides, if they’re trouble, you can take them down, and I can spray them with my water like a firefighter. There is no need to worry.”

Colt disagreed, but there wasn’t time to go back and forth about it as the door to the apartments opened—an old man was first out, his shirt stripped off and glowing lines all over his body; he had a wispy gray beard, and a face that was more used to smiling than the current scowl he was wearing on it, in his hand was a mace. Behind him came a younger man, about ten years on Colt, who shared the same nose as the old guy, but no beard. This one came armed with a sword.

Two out of the eight.

As Colt did an Inspect—Levels 47 and 43—they were probably the strongest among these survivors, and so this group thought they had the best chance of dealing with this. They’d see something similar for himself—maybe his Edicts. He felt one Inspect run across him. It seemed to be a very common skill.

Maybe they only sent two in their own attempt at a more ‘peaceful’ negotiation.

Colt scanned the windows; one of them was open. Ah. Someone was probably up there providing support with magic or a ranged weapon. Peaceful… Only went so far.

“Whatd’ya want?” The old guy said, rattling his mace in his one hand.

Colt took a step forward, keeping his knife low, and bowed his head. “We wanted to talk to other people. I take it you’re not with New Nashville either. Are you willing to speak with us?”

The old man snorted.

“I’ve seen that fancy stadium city. Its politics are filled with shit. I’m not about to let someone tell me how I can or can’t live in my city.”

“Pops…” the guy next to him began.

“Bah, it’s just the two of them. If they were lying, they’d already be trying to kill us, not getting us out to talk. You heard the message last time we ran across those bastards, ‘ship out or die,’ I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’m not giving it up because some asshole has got illusions of being a king—“

Colt smiled, these people… “I feel the same way. I moved to this city years ago; I loved this city. I don’t know if you’ve been to the stadium lately, but your worst fears are coming true. The man there is a tyrant. And he’s using the people in it.”

“Not surprising. Anyone with two wits about them can see it going that way. Just got to have the balls not to tuck your tail in and get in line.” The old guy scratched at his nose and frowned. “But if you got three wits, you should be asking, ‘Why is a stranger coming up and asking me and mine about a city we don’t care for,’ he said.

“Let me ask you this: are you going around attacking anyone? Are you bandits?” Colt didn’t answer the question, folding his arms.

Julia was silent behind him. She didn’t have the best social skills, so she tended to give these sorts of things away to Nate or him. Right now, she was clutching her staff, scanning the building. She was probably figuring out what Colt had. These guys had aerial support. Not that it mattered.

By the second, Colt transitioned to an ease. These were the type of people he figured through his eavesdropping. They felt more liable to toss an insult, wander back into their apartment, and hole up from the world than start a fight. Exactly the sort of people he wanted to champion for this cause.

“Of course not! Jesus, what do I look like?” The old guy’s face reddened, and the younger guy stepped in—trying to defuse his father.

“Sorry, wanted to be sure. You know that New Nashville is shoving everyone in their city, forcing everyone here to obey—he claims everyone outside is bandits, but I know better. There are many people, and there are still enough resources going around that most will find it hard to take a step to truly desperate measures. People often aren’t bad just to be bad. But he’s pegged all of those outside of the New Nashville as villains to get those inside to go along with whatever he wants.”

“Preaching to the choir,” the old man shook his head, pushing off his son. “But your angle. Shoot straight. I’m getting tired.”

“We have a plan. You can Inspect me if you want—see my power. But my plan is this: that warlord needs to be dealt with, and we need the right people to do it. Within that city, it’ll be impossible to overcome him and all of his defenses. But we can draw him out. Defeat him. Turn this ‘New Nashville’ into a true place for freedom, a refuge for the people who’ve survived this calamity. All we need is some help.” Colt began, making sure to mentally switch ‘off’ his Hide Status—letting them get a full grasp of what he was working with.

The old man laughed, turned around, and started walking to the apartment. “Oh lord, I was wondering when an idealist would come around and try to get us killed. Filling out my apocalypse bingo card,” he waved Colt off and left the negotiation.

The son stared after his father, working his jaw.

The gears were turning in his head—he Inspected Colt and then looked back at the door. His eyes widened seeing the information; whether it was the skills, the level, or all the above, it seemed to change his perspective. He knew Colt was powerful. And that’s what Colt needed.

Julia gave a small smile at Colt’s side, he saw her give the guy a thumbs up as he registered just what they were. “We’re the heroes!” she added, though the reassurance wasn’t needed.

What he’d seen was enough to bring him to the table for cooperation.

Then, he asked the most important question. “How?”

Like that, he’d taken the bait. Colt walked forward, offering a hand, a smile on his face, “First of all, My name’s Colt. You’ve seen it from the Inspect, but I have a feeling we’ll be getting to know each other a lot better.”

“Harry.” The man responded, and then Colt got to the business of recruiting.


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