(Frauw – Occupation: Lit) (Amos)

  Three Days Later

  Amos zips across the field, zigzagging past arrows. The closer he gets, the harder it becomes to dodge them. He casts Mud Wall just as two arrows strike it. He rolls into a leap, closing the gap between himself and Carp.

  The longbow vanishes, replaced by a steel shortsword. Carp braces for a strike that never comes as Amos reappears behind him. Carp spins, only to be kicked in the abdomen twice before managing to grip Amos’s left ankle. Holding on as Amos lifts his foot, Carp lunges with his blade, but Amos kicks it away with his other foot.

  Both hands catch Amos’s fall as he twists toward Carp’s ankles, pulling them into a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu-style grapple, bouncing with fewer submission attempts. The sound of their steel armor clashing fills the air.

  Wrenching his leg between them, Carp kicks Amos off. Rolling back to his feet, Carp snags his sword from the ground.

  Before Amos hits the ground, a bronze shortsword materializes out of thin air. His toes barely touch the earth as his heels hover an inch above the grass, and Amos speeds toward Carp. The blades clash as Amos dodges several kicks. Everything flows smoothly, making Amos proud, but now it’s time to pick up the pace. After the third swing, he knocks Carp’s sword overhead, opening the youngling’s torso for a clean sidekick. Amos lands the kick, sending Carp tumbling forty meters across the grass.

  Before Carp can react, Amos shoves the dull bronze sword an inch from his face. Breathing heavily, Carp drops his arms and falls back into the grass. “I… I saw… a change in speed again.”

  A notebook appears in one hand and a pencil in the other as Amos chuckles. “I did that three times in this match, one more than last time. You adapt so quickly; it’s incredible. I scale your strength level by fifty.” Amos takes notes, pausing on speed. “The only real critique I have—and it’s the same one—concerns your footing. Your speed cap at level five hundred strength is thirty-two. It’s fine to exceed that, but planting sharply and stopping on the side of your foot instead of your heels will break your foot.”

  Carp reaches behind his head, cracking his eyes open and barely keeping them from squinting in the sunlight. “Yeah, I know… It’s not easy to learn. There’s so much to pay attention to; my perception isn’t fast enough.”

  “I’m not scolding you—just giving a little warning,” Amos says, catching Smokey from the corner of his eye. “It took me a long time to figure out how many broken bones I had before I perfected it.” He points at Smokey. “Your brother’s footwork, though… It’s incredible.”

  Smokey chuckles as he hovers over his little brother, providing shade. “Great match! From the bushes, it looked like a superhero fight.” He rubs his chin. “So, how is he, brother?”

  Amos places his hands on his hips. “I can confidently say… If he works on his foot placement at high speeds and sheds that ‘kid strength’ in the next six years, he’ll be better than me.”

  Carp lifts himself from the ground, curling his legs as if ready to jump. “Really!”

  Smokey waves Amos off. “Nah, you’re just saying that.”

  Amos shakes his head. “No, I’m serious. He might even be better than Vodka. Your brother is a prodigy. I struggled even with fifty more levels than him. In that split second, I kicked my speed up to over a hundred before I beat him. Very dangerous speed for my level.”

  Carp chuckles and yelps with joy, shooting up from the ground with his arms raised, but the pain in his side forces him to cradle his knees.

  “Aren’t you still motion sick from losing too much blood?” Smokey asks.

  “It hasn’t been too bad, especially today. This feeling of weakness shouldn’t affect my movements,” Amos replies.

  Smokey nods, patting his little brother on the back of the head. A sigh escapes him. “Alright, I’ll leave him with you. I’m heading to the coast to fish for a bit before Hypno and the others arrive.”

  “No need to worry; I’ll look after him and work him hard,” Amos assures.

  Smokey nods again, then turns and walks away firmly. A cigarette pokes from behind his ear until the wind lifts his cape, obscuring his head.

  Amos waits until Smokey is a hundred yards away before returning to Carp. “Okay, so about that…” Amos halts, noticing the youngling’s frown. “What’s wrong?”

  Carp jumps as he locks eyes with Amos, then quickly looks away, shifting his gaze before finally lowering it to Amos’s feet. “Can you… keep a secret?”

  “Depends,” Amos replies, crossing his arms.

  Carp glares at Amos for a moment.

  Amos bobs his head. “Alright. I won’t say anything to anyone, not even your brother.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise,” Amos says, nodding.

  “Alright… Well, Smokey has been losing a lot of sleep lately—so much that he started smoking again. He worries about me, and I don’t want him to be so stressed.”

  Amos smiles, wondering what it must be like to have a brother. After all, he’s an only child, and all his cousins are six years older. Seeing Carp speak so worriedly about his brother warms Amos’s heart. “Listen, I’m sure Smokey will settle down soon. He’s just being a caring brother. You’re doing just fine.”

  “Well, that’s the thing… I’m not,” Carp says, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m so scared to die!”

  Taken aback, Amos relaxes. “Right…” He casts a Mud Wall high enough for them to sit on and drops to the ground, tapping the spot beside him.

  Carp joins him.

  Amos wraps his arm around the kid, reflecting on how the age difference isn’t so great. Maybe that’s why Carp is confiding in him, or perhaps it’s just a moment of vulnerability. “Maybe you’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

  Carp glances at Amos. “Aren’t you afraid?”

  Amos looks up at the clouds, pondering. “I haven’t really thought about it. Well, except for Cazel, but that’s different… I think it’s because I’ve been doing this for years, since I was eleven.” Amos shrugs. “Tell me.”

  Carp’s steel gauntlets vanish as he wipes his eyes. “It’s just the thought of no afterlife that’s terrifying… or dying even if there is one…” More tears form. “I want to go home.”

  Amos pulls Carp in closer. “I know, I know. I want to see my mother again, and I want to go home. I spent a month…” His mind drifts to his mom and dad before returning to Carp. “But right now, this is our home. You have your brother Smokey to look after you, and you also have me, Ship, Christ, Xander, and the others.” A few seconds pass before Amos lets go of Carp. “You ever hear the term, ‘fake it ‘til you make it’?”

  Carp wipes his eyes again. “Yeah…”

  “Let’s pretend this world is our real world. Once you do that, I’m sure you’ll make it,” Amos says. The heavy atmosphere feels so different.

  “Okay…” Carp replies before standing. “Okay… I’ll do just that, but for now, I want to take these feelings out on you.” He lifts his fists.

  Amos smiles, feeling as though he’s done something right. Maybe he can talk to Cazel about leaving. Maybe… just maybe, they don’t have to split. They are the Notorious Three, after all. Just thinking about the three of them together for so long brings back good memories of fighting RoT.

  After over an hour of training with Carp, Amos receives a personal message that Zero has arrived. They finish up earlier than expected, and Smokey returns before the three of them head back to the manor.

  It only takes a second after opening the door for them to be ambushed by Sara. She tightens her grip around all three of them, holding them close. “I missed you guys!”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Amos’s windpipe gets crushed as Sara pulls his neck over Carp’s shoulder. “Sara, please…” After a few coughs, Amos finally manages to wiggle his Adam’s apple. “Hey, sis.” Locking eyes with the others, he smiles. “Marisa, John.”

  “Nice seeing you, Liam,” Marisa replies.

  John turns his gaze from Amos without answering.

  Marisa pinches John’s waist, causing him to jump.

  “Hey…” John mumbles.

  Amos chuckles a bit as he scans for Zero. “Where is he?”

  “Cazel took him to the library. Apparently, he wanted to tell him something important,” Marisa says, pointing back.

  “Oh…” Amos glances away. It seems Cazel didn’t want to waste any more time. It must be hard for him… What could Amos even say to Cazel?

  “Is something wrong?” Hypno asks as he pulls a cigarette from his pack.

  Amos smiles at his friend Hypno. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

  Hypno places the cigarette in his mouth, holding a finger up to it. “Understandable. I’ll ask him later then.”

  Marisa rips the cigarette from his hand without hesitation. “Tod! I’ve smelled that cancerous odor all the way here! If you’re going to smoke that death stick, do it outside the manor!” With her palm open, she stares at him firmly.

  “Yes, sis.” Hypno sighs as he takes the cigarette back from her palm. “I’ll be back…” He heads to the back porch.

  “I’ll join you,” Smokey says.

  Carp locks his gaze onto his brother before the doors shut behind him.

  “So, everyone except Vodka is here,” Sara says. “But where are Ship and Christ?”

  Xander sits behind the counter, playing with a pick in his teeth. “They're in town. I asked them to get supplies for dinner tonight. Thought I’d prepare a feast for all of us reuniting safely.”

  “What are we having?” Carp asks.

  Amos’s attention shifts as he looks past the kitchen towards the double doors. Slipping by everyone, he heads to the other side of the manor, waiting outside the library door.

  After a few minutes, he can barely see the double doors swing open as Christ's voice follows. Amos sighs, unable to hear any murmurs from behind the door. In the vast living room that connects to the porch, he sees Hypno and Smokey extinguishing the last bit of their cigarettes, deep in conversation.

  What is Amos even doing here? He was supposed to be here for only a week and then spend his last moments with his mom. Six months left... Though the chemotherapy-like burns looked terrible the last time he saw her. It could be less. Amos smiles a bit as he reminisces about the last time he saw his mom and why she gave him the strength to keep going. “Live for you…” Amos whispers to himself. Lowering his gaze, he hopes it all ends soon.

  Not long after, the door handle wiggles, grabbing Amos’s attention.

  Zero exits as Cazel follows him. Noticing Amos, Zero embraces him in a hug. Dry tears are visible at the corners of his eyes. Breaking apart, he holds Amos’s shoulders. “So happy to see you, man. You never know what you’ve got until you’re chased by skinwalkers for miles.”

  Amos tilts his head, his eyes widening. “Oh, the Northern Forest, yeah, that's brutal.” Moving on, he asks, “Did you hear about Iker?” They begin walking back to the others, though Amos keeps his gaze on Cazel, whose facade is easy to read.

  “Yeah, Cazel already told me,” Zero replies. “I just want to know why his own backstabbed him like that.”

  “It sucks we can’t have a rematch,” Amos says.

  A nervous chuckle escapes Cazel.

  Though Zero’s laugh is cut short, he pauses to look up.

  Ship removes his cape at the doorway and hangs it on the coat rack. Turning around, he smiles at the three. “Zero, welcome back… brother.”

  Amos focuses on Zero, who is shooting daggers at Ship.

  Zero steps into Ship’s space. “I told you not to talk to me.” He brushes past Ship, knocking into his shoulder.

  Cazel sighs. “Ship, you have to tell us why he’s like that to you. What did you do?”

  Ship takes a moment to respond. “I’m… existing.”

  Thirty minutes after settling down for dinner, they gather around the kitchen table to review the file Kang handed them: fifty sheets of strategy for both defense and offense. Most are dated differently, indicating that Kang provided more information than he shared with Hypno and Zero. The invasion plans against Sanity and RoT are well thought out, as if they have a plan from A to Z. Money transactions from the last week reveal bribes to RoT to assassinate specific WAL members like Christ, Xander, and Vodka—labeling them the heart of the clan.

  Though RoT accepted the money, they declined to become involved in disputes with WAL. They didn’t exactly hate WAL, which made them cautious, perhaps due to their past dealings. Then came the sheets detailing each member and their weaknesses. For Amos, it was as accurate as it was unsettling. His weakness was to strike to kill and then bled to death. Surprisingly, the only member without a dossier was not Vodka, but Christ.

  One page discussed how they could frame WAL for the deaths of hundreds in Frauw by manipulating their restaurants and water storage. Targeting WAL is one thing, but endangering innocent bystanders is just evil. As he placed the paper down towards Ship, who had his face buried in one of the documents, Amos noticed the distress on everyone's faces.

  Every action has consequences. But would it have been the same if they hadn’t killed off Dulman? Perhaps it started even earlier, with the chaos they created and the players they eliminated before the tournament began. If an interviewer asked random players whom they hated most, WAL would surely top the list. While they might not be able to name all the members, the blame would fall on the game’s most egotistical and destructive figures. In reality, however, that was never who they truly were. The game, the clan, the persona did not reflect their authentic selves. Yet none of that matters; playing the villain for so long can leave a lasting impression on those who feel wronged.

  His outburst the other day didn’t help at all, did it? Amos realizes he might not be taking any of this seriously yet. But when will he? It’s almost as if he is in denial, or a mental block is preventing him from thinking differently. He has spent years playing this game, and while it remains the same game, it has changed. Maybe it’s time to fake it until you make it. It’s worth a try.

  Twenty minutes after reviewing everything and exchanging information, they wait for Xander’s response. Scratching his five o'clock shadow, he clears his throat. “Right… So this is either one of three things. Kang, the second general of the west front and head of the fourth largest army in the game, gave us this information because he has genuine connections in the Trapline Army that no one knew about, or he is lying to us because Lit is testing our reaction. Or, least likely but possible, he constructed this detailed fifty-page plan and strategy by himself because he just wanted to watch the world burn.”

  “So what are we going to do about this?” Christ asks.

  “Nothing we can really do,” Xander responds. “At least not until it happens.” Before the others could argue, Xander quickly added, “You see! Nothing involving us, except the attempt to bribe RoT, was planned until the Trapline Army and the Fools were wiped off the map. And with how things have been going, Lit will win, but it’s likely going to take a few months.”

  Zero shakes his head. “I don’t like just sitting around.”

  “Unless they convince RoT to attack the Trapline Army, then it will only be a few days,” Cazel says.

  “You’re also forgetting that the Fool’s Navy has been pushing Lit back a bit,” Hypno responds.

  “You’re overlooking that the desert isn’t the best place to obtain gunpowder. Unless they ram the war galleons against each other to close the battle, the push won't last long. The same thing happened two years ago when RoT intercepted Sanity on the northern Gator Plains,” Cazel retorts.

  Christ interjects, “Okay, okay, that’s not what Xander is currently worried about. Let’s not be difficult and focus on what we’re going to do when they decide to turn on us.”

  Xander leans forward on the table. “For this, all I’m going to say is to act as if none of this was leaked to you. But keep your eyes open and your weapons ready. We still need access to Mount Ziggy, and our reputation is very poor. Let’s not hit rock bottom.”

  Zero slaps the table, causing Carp to jump. “Xander, we can’t just do nothing! What if something happens to us?”

  Cazel tilts his head at Zero. “What are you suggesting we do? Kill them? All five thousand of them?”

  Zero drops his gaze. “No… But we have to do something!”

  Xander takes a moment before sighing in the silence. “Zero, changing our image and how outsiders perceive us is something we need to address. We must stop being the types of people others fear.” He turns to his clan and Sara’s. “That said, I don’t regret anything we’ve done so far.”

  A thought crosses Amos’s mind. “Was Merak involved in this?”

  Hypno shakes his head.

  Zero places his hand on Amos’s shoulder. “I already asked Kang about that. He said Merak wasn’t involved, likely because he has connections to you.”

  A sigh of relief escapes Amos as he drops his elbows onto the table. “Good…”

  “Well…” Xander scans the room. “Tomorrow, we’ll start grinding the Guardian of Lepidos. We need to make the most of the time we have. After we gather a few Swords of Gods, we will sell them to RoT.”

  The Sword of Gods is one of the strongest weapons dropped by certain monsters at rare drop rates. However, the layer boss, the Guardian of Lepidos, has only a one in one hundred and fifty chance of dropping the sword. Despite those odds, the boss still requires a large team for a successful kill, which increases the drop rate. The sword is comparable to the Yasar rapier when imbued.

  Carp’s gaze shoots up. “We’re doing this without Vodka?”

  Xander shrugs. “Vodka said he would meet us at Lepidos Gates in the morning. However, before returning, he has to check in with the monks before nightfall. Thirty refugees from Westpoint are passing through to a small village south of Wolf Pass. He just wants to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  Everyone exchanges glances, as if they've just seen a man with a jar between his legs.

  “Does he need help?” Hypno asks.

  Xander shakes his head. “It’s Vodka. If he needs help, he’ll ask.”

  “Right…” the others reply in unison.

  All nine stare at each other silently for a few seconds before Xander shakes his head again. “I don’t understand you guys sometimes.” A carton of cigarettes materializes as Xander makes his way to the back porch.

  Amos can only stare. His clanmates likely feel the same. Their lives will be tough. Why would they make it easy when so many others are focused on self-improvement? If they relax for a single day, they’ll fall behind those who don’t. Is this really his life right now? When will they leave? Will any of this last another day? What is this feeling? It’s so hard to breathe.