(Frauw – Occupation: Lit) (Amos)

  The Next Day

  “So, you’re really leaving…” Amos says as he, Cazel, and Zero walk down the path from the manor towards the town. Light and shadow dance across their faces as the sun on the horizon peeks behind the trees. The euphonious chirps of the birds and crickets set the mood for the morning. It’s a beautiful day as usual, but the newspaper predicts it will rain soon.

  Zero lightly kicks a small rock a few times until he accidentally sends it into the tall grass. He doesn’t seem happy about the situation either. His hands are in his pockets, which he never does.

  “I’ve already answered that, Amos,” Cazel replies. “I’ve stayed longer than I should have. I need to sort out my thoughts because waking up in a cold sweat every night isn’t helping.”

  “Zero and I will come with you,” Amos says.

  Zero looks shocked but remains silent, turning away from the two and glancing at some wild deer in the distance.

  Cazel smiles. “Sorry, but I need to do this myself. I don’t know where I’m going, but it has to be alone.”

  Amos bites his lip. “But…” What can he say? He would promise never to kill again, but that would be a lie if the time came. What can he do? “But we are The Notorious Three; we never split. We've always been together.”

  Cazel slows down, pushing between Amos and Zero and throwing his arms around them. “And we will always be The Notorious Three. Nothing will change that. You’ll always be there for me, and I’ll always be there for you guys.” The shadow of a few trees passes over them before Cazel pulls away and rushes ahead, turning around. “Remember when we first got the name The Notorious Three?”

  The two stop and glance at Cazel.

  “Yeah, Amos had just turned twelve, and you and I were thirteen for a few more months,” Zero replies.

  Cazel chuckles. “And you remember our reaction? How we jumped for joy? Three brats just hitting puberty causing problems for adults in RoT. Just dumb kids, but we made a legendary name joining the revolutionaries.”

  “What I’m getting at is, no matter how far apart we are, our history, our names, our bond, will always connect us,” Cazel says as he falls back in line with them and they start walking again.

  Amos nods. How can someone like him, so consumed by dark thoughts, still be so positive and shower his friends with happiness? It’s so confusing.

  The three reach the town after another five to ten minutes of walking.

  “Sorry, Cazel. I haven’t had many words,” Zero says, clenching his eyes shut. “Keep your eyes open, don’t get drunk, eat well, exercise a lot.” He exhales. “And don’t trust everyone. I know how friendly you are, but be safe.”

  Cazel rubs his dry tears with the palm of his hand before pulling his two friends into a long hug. “Right…”

  Heading north, Zero and Amos watch as their third walks off alone. Even though Cazel says they’ll always be together, Amos can’t help but feel that everything will be different now.

  After much cardio and conditioning, Amos surprisingly held up well at the manor. Yesterday, he didn’t lose too much blood because they sealed the wound quickly. It wasn’t until Amos started practicing foot positioning with Carp that he had to take breaks from all the motion.

  The kid has potential, but he seems to lose it quickly when putting it into practice. Though you don’t need perfect footing when running fifty miles an hour, it’s like running in the real world. The average person’s bones can handle that speed, but usually no more. Because of sprinting world record speeds, human bones can still hold on even if the average person can’t run that fast. Step wrong, though, and it’s a different story.

  Now, apply that to the game, where strength increases one’s speed, muscle mass, and bone density. The average person can run fifty miles an hour at the maximum level. It’s fine until you hit the eighty-mile-an-hour mark. God bless your soul if you go any faster because turning, slamming into the ground, and swinging your sword becomes a different story. There’s a high chance of breaking bones or tearing muscles. Especially now, with pain being normal, not many would dare to try.

  Sweating, Amos and Carp sit on a log, glancing towards the manor. Xander and Hypno lean over the back porch and watch them train.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Carp takes a long sip from his water bottle and moans in frustration. “I don’t get it!”

  “Relax, you’re not doing bad. There’s a reason not many know this stuff,” Amos says.

  “Yeah, but I want to be the best fighter…” Carp says, laying back on the log.

  Amos nods. “Now that Iker is dead, that might be possible.”

  “Man, what was so great about that guy?”

  Amos chuckles. “Well, first off, he kicked Zero’s, Cazel’s, and my asses at once, and we never once won a fight against him. He once forced Vodka to retreat. He wiped out two platoons from RoT. He could take us all down, stopping at either Christ or Vodka. Years ago, he broke the sound barrier multiple times without injury. Meanwhile, I hit five hundred and fifty miles per hour once and broke everything. The guy is built differently.”

  Carp sits up. “You went that fast?”

  “Yeah, he forced us to. It was during our last fight before joining WAL,” Amos replies.

  “I didn’t even know you could go that fast,” Carp says, cradling his chin. “What’s it like?”

  “Well, besides breaking all my bones, it isn’t pleasant, that’s for sure.”

  Carp raises an eyebrow. “Tell me everything; I must know…”

  Amos sighs. “Unless you have eye protection, your eyes will be pushed back into your sockets, nearly blinding you. Exposed skin burns after five hundred miles. If you have a cut or wound, expect it to worsen from wind pressure. The g-forces are insane. It takes a lot out of you. And if you keep it up for a while, your muscles will tear and overheat.”

  Amos crosses his arms in disgust. Two hundred and fifty miles per hour is hard enough, let alone five hundred. Even in the regular game, players wouldn’t feel pain. They’d feel a fuzziness and, at most, a little shock. Amos would always feel the shock, no matter how slight the damage, due to his curse. Now his pain is multiplied; going that fast, with those risks, is asking for him to take his own life. “Top players like Ruto, Durial, Vodka, and Feef tend to push themselves no more than three hundred for normal speed, so you should aim for that.”

  “Can we try for that today?” Carp asks.

  Amos shakes his head. “Nah, I’m beat. Maybe tomorrow, after Vodka returns.” Standing, he stretches his arms over his head.

  As they make their way back to the manor, a smile creeps across Carp’s face. “Maybe if I were three years older, I could’ve started with you three. Maybe been The Notorious Four…”

  Amos nudges Carp’s shoulder with his. “Oh?”

  “Looking at you three and the others, you all seem so confident staring down the strong, without a care for what could happen…” Carp glances away from Amos. “Maybe… I wouldn’t be afraid to die…”

  The Next Day

  Hot and stuffy, Amos wakes up in his room covered in sweat, gripped by a deep sense of dread. The interface reads 2:00 a.m., yet his room feels like an oven. He needs three things an open window, water, and fresh air as he gathers himself. A half-full cup sits on his nightstand, and he grabs it on his way to the back porch. Outside, a single torch flickers, illuminating Ship, who sits nearby, smoking a cigarette.

  Ship notices Amos as the door opens. “You’re up early…”

  Amos nods, pulling a chair closer to Ship. “Could say the same about you.”

  Ship doesn’t respond, keeping his gaze fixed on the night sky.

  Sitting down, Amos takes a sip from his cup and places it on the armrest. “Room was like a furnace, and I woke up with scrambled thoughts.”

  “Why not cast icy mist? Should cool your room in a few minutes.”

  Amos shakes his head. “Can’t; my magic level’s still too low. But I plan to start training it soon.”

  Ship nods. “In that case, I’ll cast it in your room before I head back in.”

  “Thanks, brother…” Amos says with a slight smile. “You’re really kind, you know?”

  Ship turns to look at him, cigarette in hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Amos straightens up, realizing he may have come off wrong. “No, I mean…”

  Ship cuts him off with a smirk. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. I know I come off cold or quiet. Doesn’t mean I dislike you—in fact, it’s the opposite. That goes for all of you.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Amos says. “Is that why Zero dislikes you?”

  Ship lowers his head, taking a drag on his cigarette.

  “I’m sorry,” Amos quickly adds. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Ship waves his hand dismissively. “It’s alright. Any reason he has to hate me is probably valid.” He exhales a plume of smoke and looks away. “I just wish I knew why.”

  “It’s strange. In all the time I’ve known Zero, he’s never liked the word ‘hate,’” Amos sighs. “Even after what the Dulman clan did to him, he never felt hate. He loves just about everyone, but with you…”

  Ship chuckles. “Zero’s your best friend?”

  Amos nods. “And Cazel. We’ve been through a lot together.” Amos leans back, gazing at the stars. He’s known them longer than most met Zero once in real life when he was dating Maria, and then again after she broke up with him. Though he’s never met Cazel outside the game, it doesn’t make him feel any less close.

  “Do you care for him?”

  The question pulls Amos’s eyes from the stars. “Yeah,” he replies quietly.

  Ship smiles. “Then can you promise me something? Don’t take your eyes off him. Ever.”

  Amos turns, meeting Ship’s gaze. It’s an odd request, but he can’t see why he wouldn’t keep it, though Cazel would be another matter. Zero is a friend he doesn’t want to lose. His students are one thing, but… “Yeah, I promise.”

  Out of thin air, Ship produces a wine bottle and holds it out to Amos. “Then cheers, brother.”

  Amos raises his glass and clinks it against Ship’s bottle.