YoTS: Lord January ~ 23!

CHAPTER 23

A whistle blew, and Grant rubbed at his tired eyes. “Must be closing time?”

<You should get going. While you walk, I’ll explain to you how you can increase in cultivation achievement level.> Sarge chuckled as he thought over their previous conversation. <There’s a reason that the different cultivation methods are complicated, but most of them are at least a little intertwined. Sorry if I blew you away with too much information at once, but it was the minimum that I could impart to give you a basic understanding.>

“It’s… it’s fine.” Outside, Grant patted February Twenty Nine at his hip for reassurance. He had too many memories of being jumped and beaten or robbed, but this wasn’t New Dawn. Grant felt safer here amongst the warehouses and cobbled streets, particularly after the reception he’d received from the steelworkers. He arrived at the junction of Candlestick Lane. “Take a left at Candlestick Lane… or… was it a right?”

He couldn’t remember. “Left or right, either way, I’ll probably come across Iron Circle soon.”

Grant took the right path, heading towards the center of Mid January. He walked until his feet were sore. “That must be more than five minutes… I better head back.”

“Halt! Who goes there?” A bulky guard was jingling down the road toward him, poorly-fitting armor and barely-strapped-on weapons creating a cacophony every time he took a step.

“Um…” Grant tried to think of a good excuse. “Just a steelworker heading home after my shift.”

“Come over here and let us have a look at you. No one is meant to be out after curfew!” Grant hadn’t seen the second guardsman behind the first, but since the first took up most of the path; that wasn’t overly surprising.

What was surprising were their words. “What’s a curfew?”

The first guard spoke up dark suspicion in his voice, “Curfew. A stay-at-home order. There’s a criminal on the loose, and House Friday is in hot pursuit. A curfew has been enforced to protect the citizens.”

“You’re not… House Tuesday?” Grant was told to be wary of the Peacekeepers, as they didn’t mess around. If they were after them he was in serious trouble.

“No. We’re with House Friday, good sir. Come here, so we can get a better look at you.” The second man spoke up with a much more friendly tone than the first.

“Ah, not guardsman as I had thought. Bounty hunters.” Grant’s feet were glued to the ground. He didn’t know what to do, but there were really only two options available to him. He could turn and head back in the other direction, but he looked and saw another two men–probably more bounty hunters–headed his way. That left only one way out of the situation, because he wasn’t going to let himself get flogged.

“Abyss.” Grant slowly started to draw his weapon. “I’m too tired for this.”

“What was that?” Demanded the closest man. “What did you say?”

“I said... feast. I'm, uh, starved.”

“You and me both!” The cheery bounty hunter held his lamp high to get a better look at Grant, then his face hardened immediately. The two bounty hunters shared a swift look. One immediately went for his weapon, while the other for a steel whistle. Grant freed February Twenty Nine in the moment it took the man to blow three high-pitched notes, and couldn’t stop him from shouting at the top of his lungs.

“It’s him! The murderer, Grant Monday is here!” He took a deep breath and glared at Grant. “Make it easy on yourself, son. Obviously, there’s not enough proof that you’re a murderer, or House Tuesday–as you feared–would be after you. Come in for punishment of your own accord, and we’ll go easy on you.”

“I doubt that.” Grant brandished his sword like it was a flaming torch keeping the night at bay. There was a faint whistling noise, but before Grant thought to react to it, he found himself tangled in a net and dragged to the ground.

The angry bounty hunter slammed his weapon into its scabbard, then came and gave Grant a kick in the side. “Aww. That was too easy, Norman. I wanted to play with him for a bit first!”

“There will be plenty of time to play with him later when we get back to headquarters. My whip has been freshly oiled and awaits a bare back to cut its teeth on.” The bounty hunters that had been coming down the path behind him had finally shown up, and brought a nasty surprise with them. They laughed and slowly closed in on the squirming Grant.

The previously cheerful man tried to stop him, “Calm yourself. You’re just making it worse.”

The more Grant struggled, the tighter the net became. Then he managed to maneuver the edge of February Twenty Nine, getting the point in between the holes in the net. It made a ripping sound as it tore open, and he managed to free himself after a moment.

“He's getting away!” Grant heard another faint hiss and managed to dodge a second net before it closed over him. A large man cracked his knuckles and approached from the rear. None of them were wielding edged weapons, instead relying on fists or clubs. Grant ducked under the arm as a huge fist swung out ponderously, yet powerfully. It met only air, and Grant slapped the flat of his blade against the man’s back.

Damage dealt: 6 (Nonlethal).

The huge bounty hunter stumbled forward, and the three others laughed at the insulting attack. Grant looked around, then carefully put February Twenty Nine away. They weren’t brandishing weapons, and he didn’t want to seriously hurt or kill one of them accidentally. That would only bring more wrath upon him.

“Putting away your little pig sticker, Monday? We were looking for a challenge.” Mr. Angry Man taunted him.

Grant shook his head slowly, “I don’t want to hurt you. I don't care what that bounty says, I didn't hurt anyone. This is literally a case of a rich man not wanting to pay me the money that I am owed, instead using it to punish me for refusing to marry his daughter!”

“How sad. Good to know you’re single. I've a new lady to introduce you to: meet Jackie.” Norman pointed to the remaining man behind Grant. “Well… he considers his left hand a lady, at least.”

“Hwaaah.” Jackie’s hand weaved in a variety of patterns, and his legs jiggled oddly as he changed stances. Grant had heard about the martial arts of serious cultivators, but never seen it before. Jackie attacked, leaping forward with a chopping motion. Grant managed to sidestep the attack, but Jackie spun around and planted his right foot in Grant’s middle.

Damage taken: 1 (Blunt).

Grant bent over, more in surprise than the force of impact, and responded by springing up right punching Jackie square on the nose.

Damage dealt: 5 (Blunt).

Debuff added: Bleeding (very minor). -1 health per 15 seconds!

<I don't know if you knew this, but right now February Twenty Nine only gives you a single point of bonus damage, but it does transform every strike into slashing or piercing damage. Those two types of damage have a much higher chance of inflicting secondary effects, also known as debuffs like bleeding. Nice hit.>

“Middle of combat, Sarge.” Grant grunted at the sword.

“Ouch, that hurt!” Jackie held his nose, blood trickling down onto his House Friday uniform. “I’ll be docked two Hours to pay for the cleaning of my shirt! Oh… we’re gonna make you pay, bounty. You won’t be able to kill a keg when we’re done with you!”

“Get him! Ali, box his ears in. Jackie, do a flying kick or something!” Norman was making clearly ridiculous demands at this point. None of these men could get more than an inch off of the ground when jumping. Three of the four moved in with deadly intent, the fun and games apparently over. Grant easily dodged the huge fists of the boxer, and Jackie managed to get another kick in, but it bounced near-harmlessly off Grant’s leg.

“Archie, you too!” The remaining man, previously known to Grant as ‘cheerful bounty hunter’ took out a small truncheon. Something sharp was embedded in it, reflecting the light of the lanterns. Archie swung and missed, giving Grant a too-close look at the black metal shards embedded in the wooden truncheon as he ducked.

Something smacked the top of his thigh as he worried about the deadly weapon that was in the mix. Grant let out an involuntary yelp, once more of surprise instead of pain, though he did take three points of damage. As he limped forward, his entire right gluteus went numb, and little feeling was left in the leg overall. A glance revealed that Norman was also carrying one of the bladed truncheons.

<This has gone on far too long, bring me into the fight!> The bloodlust was practically pouring out of the weapon.

“Not yet!” Grant still didn't want to risk taking out February Twenty Nine. “I can handle this much without needing to seriously damage them.”

The big boxer guy had given up, panting heavily as he leaned against the wall of one of the terraced buildings. Jackie kept his distance, not keen on any more than a bloody nose. Archie swung again and again, but kept missing the more agile form of Grant, even though his numb leg was slowing him.

“How…” Norman puffed as his weapon missed as well, “are you doing this? Who dodges?”

“Why does everyone I fight ask that same stupid question? Why wouldn't I dodge? Who wants to get punched?” Grant's dodged yet another attack, punctuating his point. “As to how I am doing it? Exercise and training.”

“Enough of this nonsense!” As Norman made a halfhearted swing, Grant elbowed him in the arm. The truncheon slipped out of the large man’s grip and clattered to the cobbles. Grant picked it up and before either Archie or Norman could react, and smacked it against Norman’s jaw before holding the bladed edge to his throat.

“Ugh! I sullendah,” Norman slurred as the truncheon’s power turned on him and made it a struggle to speak. “I sullendah!”

Norman motioned for the others to stop, and for Archie to put away his weapon. The panting bounty hunters were more than happy to take a break. Grant took both truncheons, but only glanced at them even though he was curious about the power they contained. Archie shook his head at Grant and took a moment to threaten him, “Sir Friday Twenty-Ninth, won’t stand for this! He’ll come after you himself.”

“He can try,” Grant smirked as he turned and fled with his new weapons.

<Well, would you look at that.> Sarge’s voice was warm and excited. <You just defeated four whole Vassals and disarmed two of them! Good on you, kid! You know, that leads us right into our discussion on cultivation achievement levels.>

Grant sighed as Sarge moved straight into a lecture. “Sarge, I’ve really been looking forward to gloating for a little bit.”

<But this is a teachable moment!> Sarge pleaded as Grant hightailed it out of the area. <You know what? You can’t escape my lessons. So, as I was saying…>