Redeemer of the Dead: A LitRPG Apocalypse (The System Apocalypse Book 2) Read online

  Chapter 2

  Home is a two-story log house set at the turn-off on the Klondike Highway that leads to either Carcross or Teslin. A former restaurant and grocery store, the Cutoff has clear fields of fire up to fifty meters around its gravel parking lot and System cleared trees. In the past few weeks, I’ve paid to add reinforced System walls, windows, and doors to the building to increase its security, along with a simple Command Center that provides me with a System-enabled sentient tracking system and System-compatible utilities. The once-abandoned building is quite livable, if lonely.

  I had a house in Whitehorse proper. Okay, in Riverdale, but that’s a fifteen-minute walk to downtown for a slow walker. I still have it really, though I’ve not really been back for a bit. Being out here, a good thirty minutes away by bike, has been peaceful. When the System came, it destroyed anything with electronics or delicate mechanisms. Since then, mechanics in Whitehorse have been fixing up cars and trucks to make sure they’re System-enabled, but it’s still rare to see a vehicle on the road. Certainly no one is taking joy rides anymore.

  I might return to Whitehorse proper one day, but for now, my ex-party is staying at my house, taking care of the upkeep and ensuring monsters don’t move in. Whitehorse still hasn’t reached the threshold required to become a safe zone, which would stabilize the Mana flow around the city and stop monster evolution and spawning within the city limits. Last I heard, about thirty percent of the buildings in the city still need to be purchased. I can’t even imagine the time it’d take to get a place like New York completely stabilized.

  As I pull up on Sabre, I find myself groaning and stretching slightly. I can’t help but think about the hot shower waiting for me inside the building. It’s why I don’t even see the giant armored hand that hauls me into the air before it’s too late to stop it. Reflexes honed through hours of battle kick in immediately and I’m jabbing forward, calling forth my sword. Before I can hit anything, my hand is locked to my side in an iron grip. I don’t stand a chance of breaking out of it so I don’t even try, curling my body up around the arm holding me and kicking at the body with everything I’ve got. The impact is enough to rip me away from the arm, my body rolling and coming up by reflex even as my brain finally catches up to wonder what the hell is happening.

  “Stop!”

  I freeze as my brain points out the many, many guns pointed at me. I’m surrounded by armored attackers slowly shimmering into reality, cloaking deactivating. All of them are large, tusked, and fully armored in black-and-green futuristic combat armor.

  Hakarta Lieutenant (Level 31 Burning Scar)

  HP: 4890/4890

  Status Effects: None

  “Gremlin’s balls! It’s a full Elite platoon, John. This isn’t even the right lineup!” Ali almost screams as he pulls up the information, displaying data above each of my attackers.

  Lieutenant, a pair of sergeants, four privates, and a major. The lowest levels come from the privates, and they’re Level 17 Advanced Classes.

  I’ve never heard Ali sound panicked before, not even when I was taunting and kiting a Salamander across kilometers of forested terrain. His fear opens up a cold pit of dread in my stomach, one that I forcibly compartmentalize. I’m so out-leveled it’s not funny. The Cutoff is a System-designated fort, which means it has certain importance in terms of location and placement. When I first drove past it months ago, I was shot at by these guys—the Hakarta. Space mercenaries, most closely resembling our version of an Orc but with sci-fi armor, tactics, and laser weapons. Not to say they aren’t armed with a series of nasty-looking melee weapons either.

  “Are you the owner of this fort?” the major asks, making me turn slightly to look at him.

  I keep an eye on my original attacker, noticing how he’s leaning forward, hands opening and closing. Trouble is going to come from there. The major’s voice is low, a growl more than a phrase, but it’s tinged with an upper-class British accent that reminds me of my popular Victorian TV shows. The idiosyncrasies of learning a language from the System can be particularly amusing, I’ve realized. I’d laugh, but I don’t think they’d get the joke.

  “Yes,” I reply, my hands twitching slightly as one of the Hakarta picks up the sword I dropped when I was blocked.

  As a private grabs my pistol, I tense up slightly then force myself to relax as the rifle barrels shift, following even that slightest of motions. Arse. They don’t bother touching Sabre, probably realizing it won’t work for them without significant hacking. They do take my energy rifle from its holster on her though.

  “What happened to my men?” the major says.

  “Uhh…”

  As I hesitate, the lieutenant steps forward and throws a punch at me. I see it coming, in time perhaps to dodge it, but under their guns, I take the punch. It slams into my stomach, forcing me to bow slightly in pain and exhale. Of course I’m wearing an undersuit of armor, but the son of a bitch hits like Mike Tyson. Or what I figure Tyson hits like.

  “Remove your helmet. And do not hesitate again,” the major says.

  I comply, removing the helmet to look around me. “Ali, glitter ball special on my command,” I think to him while answering the major. “They’re dead.”

  “You are their killer?” the major asks.

  I can’t for the life of me read him. It’s not just the alien body language or the armor covering his body; it’s that he isn’t giving away anything. I consider, very briefly and very quickly, lying, but reject the idea. The Yerick and Roxley both have ways of telling if someone is lying, and I am willing to bet so does the major.

  “Yes. They attacked me first,” I answer, ready to let Ali know and trigger my QSM. The last time I fought these guys, they had quantum grenades that ripped through me even while I was in in my phased state, but any chance is better than none.

  The major looks at me for a time then nods to the lieutenant, who steps back, away from me. “Explain the incident to me. In detail.”

  I cough, rubbing at my stomach. As the lieutenant moves to hit me again, I start explaining, in detail, how I was looking for survivors after the System came into place, how I was attacked while driving here, my tactics, and finally, how I finished the matter. When I’m done, the silence lingers for a time.

  The major makes his helmet disappear, an act that is copied by all his men. “They hid in the command room?”

  I nod, fear slowly replaced with burning anger. I flex my hand, letting my gaze wander once more as I try to think of a survivable way of fighting back. I come up with nothing even as the major’s face twists and he spits on the ground. A few moments later, the other Hakarta follow his example. Interesting fact—Hakarta spit is green.

  “I am Labashi Ruka, Major of the Sixty-Third Division. It is a pleasure to meet you, warrior,” Labashi says, deadpan.

  The lieutenant twitches again, his purple eyes narrowing in displeasure.

  I stare at the lieutenant for a moment before turning to Labashi. First they attack me, then they beat me, then they introduce themselves? Well, I guess Orc manners are just a little different. Or insane, if you will. So fine, insane it is. “John Lee. This means you decided not to kill me?”

  “Haven’t decided yet,” the major answers. “Your actions have cost the Sixty-Third Division a decent supplementary bonus.”

  I feel my grin widening as he so casually mentions my death. Well, okay then. I keep my voice level as I buy time to figure a way out. “Supplementary bonus?”

  “Information about the city of Whitehorse was requested. As the information was not part of the original contract, the bonus is supplementary. It was, however, substantial.” Labashi just stands there, staring at me.

  “Right…” I stare at him then flick my glance to Ali. “Is he hinting I should give him that information?”

  “YES!” Ali bounces up and down, nodding. “If you don’t, I will!”

  “Well, perhaps I can help with that.” My smile widens, becoming all teeth. All right, let’s s
ee how this dance goes. “What do you need to know?”

  Labashi returns my smile, all toothy grin, then flicks his gaze over to the lieutenant. The lieutenant makes a slight motion and a blue screen appears in front of me, detailing the information they wish. Current owner, political situation, individuals in power, notable parties, defenses…

  I shake my head, looking the list over. “I know some of this, but I’ve not really been plugged in for the last few weeks.”

  “Plugged in?” Labashi snorts slightly, large green nose flaring around his tusks.

  “Uhh… been in touch. I moved out here a few weeks ago and haven’t been talking to people as much,” I explain.

  Labashi nods. “That is acceptable. Tell us what you know.”

  “Right, let’s see. Lord Roxley is the current landowner. There’s a Human City Council that sort of, but not really, works with him about running the city. Some Yerick arrived a few months ago and moved in too. No one truly notable beyond Lord Roxley and the Yerick First Fist. Everyone else is low level compared to you guys. The city still doesn’t have a stable Mana flow, so safe zones are limited to buildings. The human population is just above four thousand, if I recall correctly.” Down from a population of nearly thirty thousand before the Apocalypse.

  As Labashi nods, I continue to speak, digging through my brain for the information he wants. I give him a list of facts, things he could purchase off the System if he really gave a damn to. None of this is “secret,” so none of it would be expensive. Hell, with their Stealth capabilities, it’d only take them a few days at most to figure this out.

  “Security includes gate guards, a stone wall, and I believe technological shielding on the walls, though I’ve not seen them in play. Guards are, of course, Lord Roxley’s men and some humans.”

  “Good. Tell me of these Lord Roxley’s men,” Labashi says.

  I grimace but settle in, detailing who I recall seeing. The only thing I leave out are levels. No reason for him to know that I can read them, and I’m not offering that information up. For what seems like hours, the questioning continues. Once they realize I’m willing to talk, the guards relax slightly and we end up on my porch, drinking and snacking. I introduce the major to chocolate, which he seems highly appreciative of. He in turn introduces me to a fruit drink from his home world.

  It’s a friendly interrogation, but it’s an interrogation nonetheless and he pulls a ton of information from me. I let him lead the questioning, never offering more information than what he asks for, but he’s good, very good, at getting what he wants. All the while, the lieutenant stands directly behind me, and if looks could kill, I’d be a laser-riddled corpse.

  The flow of information isn’t just one way though. Being able to talk to them in a more relaxed setting means I can ask questions too. Carefully. I learn why it took them so long to come check on the fort. It seems their employer is a bit of a cheapskate and since each confirmed death of a Hakarta had a blood price, so long as the Hakarta were marked as “missing,” he didn’t need to make final payment. This little journey is actually off-the-books and completely on Labashi’s time.

  “I do like these Belgian chocolates best.” Labashi pops one last piece into his mouth before he stands. “However, I must return to my division. Would you prefer the blade or the beam?”

  I stand too, offering my hand once again. When my brain catches up, I freeze, staring at the hulking brute before me. Shit…

  “John?” Labashi asks again, his voice calm.

  In my peripheral vision, I see the Lieutenant has already drawn his blade. I shake my head then slowly speak. “Why?”

  “Blood must pay in blood,” Labashi answers, and I gulp.

  “Bullshit!” Ali pops into existence, glaring at him. He’s been quiet, invisible the whole time, and working furiously on his own screens while we talked.

  “Ah, the Spirit makes his appearance.” Labashi’s lips pull apart, widening into what could charitably be called a grin. “And why would I shit with a bull?”

  “Bugger that, you’re just angling for something with boy-o here. Why don’t you just say it?” Ali taps his foot. “You boys aren’t that bloodthirsty, and the fight was fair, so there’s no blood debt.”

  Labashi continues to grin, staring at Ali before he laughs then nods. “Very well, Spirit. I shall stop pulling the leg of the Adventurer. We stand to gain additional Credits for continued information about this Whitehorse. I desire John to provide that information.”

  I grunt. Now that my heart isn’t thundering, that makes a lot of sense. In fact, from the way he was speaking during our interrogation, I was pretty sure he was going to ask me to do that, though I didn’t expect him to threaten me. Then again, I guess this is what they call blackmail. That word, that thought sets off the slow kindling flame of anger in me again, the one that’s been trying to get out since I got attacked in my own home. I really, really don’t like getting pushed around. “Can do.”

  Labashi grins again, clapping me on the shoulder and gesturing for his people to get together. “We will provide you a list of what is required.”

  I nod and wait till they’re gathered and have walked away a bit before I call out, “So what am I getting paid?”

  They turn as a group, and even Ali spins to stare at me.

  Labashi opens his mouth and I continue. “Don’t bother with threats. If you kill me, you get nothing, so that doesn’t work out for you. Of course, I’d be dead, but it still doesn’t help you.”

  The lieutenant shifts, stepping toward me, and I shake my head. “Last warning, don’t try it.”

  “Kyroc,” Labashi says, and the lieutenant steps back. Good discipline. “Do you believe you can beat us?”

  “No, but I’m really good at running. I just need a little head start.” I smile slightly, gesturing to where they are, and let just a little of my anger reach my eyes. “That’s about enough.”

  “I see… and what do you desire?” Labashi answers, sharp teeth beginning to show as he looks at me.

  “Payment of course. You want me to be a spy? Well, spies get paid.” I shrug. “We’ll call it, oh… twenty percent of the System price. And a guarantee we don’t ever have this conversation again.”

  “Impossible! Twenty percent is too high.”

  I glance at Ali, who doesn’t make a move. “What’s your number?”

  “Ten percent.”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “That is not how you negotiate,” Labashi replies, eyes narrowing.

  “It is when you give a too low number to begin with.” This is stupid, but that’s okay. I’m about fifty percent sure I can get away before they can kill me. And if not… well, fuck it. I was dead as of three months ago anyway. “Shall we try for higher?”

  “Twenty-five,” Labashi answers, nodding.

  “And a guarantee of immunity from prosecution from the Hakarta,” I add.

  “I can only guarantee for my division,” Labashi says.

  “That’ll do.”

  “Then the deal is done.”

  “One thing—I don’t guarantee I’ll be able to get all the information you want,” I add.

  “The deal will be voided if you do not treat fairly with us and attempt to learn the requested information,” Labashi adds, then his grin widens. “And I will find you and show you how we feel about deal-breakers.”

  “Fair enough.” I smile back at him, the pit of anger still burning away.

  “Then the deal is done,” Labashi repeats again.

  The way he says it makes me think it is ritual, so I repeat it myself.

  Contract Initiated and Agreed Upon by Labashi Ruka and John Lee.

  Further Details? (Y/N)

  I blink and my eyes narrow slightly at the Orc. He just flashes me another toothy grin before pulling on his helmet as the group turns and walks away. I watch them leave before I retrieve my weapons and dismiss my sword. I have a feeling I somehow got played…

  “Well, that was fun
.” I slump down next to the door, letting out a long exhalation when I finally decide that they really are gone.

  “What the hell!” Ali mutters, shaking his head. “You had to challenge him?”

  “Didn’t like being pushed around.”

  “Idiot! And he got you into a contract. You sure you up to this, boy-o?”

  “Why not? Aren’t you the one who’s always saying everything has a price in the System? If they really wanted to know, they could just buy it. I might as well get paid,” I say a bit bitterly. “Anyway, I never said I wasn’t going to tell the others about this.”

  “Playing both sides?” Ali says, and I shrug.

  “Possibly. This way, at least we know what they want to know. Better to control the flow of information than not.” I rub my temples before I tilt my head toward Ali. “I wonder who their employer is.”

  “You could find out.”

  I consider it before shake my head. I’m not that interested in wasting good Credit. I look down at my hands, seeing that they’ve stopped shaking and somehow a chocolate piece is in one. I finish unwrapping it and pop it into my mouth, leaning back against the wall and savoring the taste. Gods, that was close.

  “Could I have escaped?” I wonder aloud.

  “No idea. Probably not,” Ali adds, shaking his head. “You don’t become a major without at least a few tricks up your sleeve.”

  “Yeah…” I shut my eyes, shaking my head. At least for now, the Hakarta are a known threat. I’ll have to figure out what, if anything, to do about them later. “So, care to explain contracts?”

  “It’s a Skill.” Ali’s brows furrow. “I guess it’s not surprising Mercenaries have it, but I should have warned you. I just didn’t realize he had it. The Skill binds the user and other parties into the deal they agreed upon. If you fail to live up to your side, it not only notifies him, but the System will also impose a penalty upon you. Mostly a Mana tax and the ability for the user to track you. Which can be transferred. Bounty hunters make most of their living off contract breakers.”