Chương 37: Chapter 33 - Hand over my loot

The world unfroze. With all the Elsha pink leaves bullshit gone, a notification floated in front of my face. [LEVEL UP — 25] Nice! Though what Elsha told me was less nice. Ask her yourself. The words sat in my chest like a swallowed stone. Elsha knew the Mefista name. And she didn't like it at all. But knowing her, that could mean anything. I had to pry, which wasn't going to be easy when she vanished the second I said the name. The pod door opened. I stepped out into the dome. The usual post-dive chaos.

Medical teams running checks on divers that got zeroed out on other floors, technicians huddled around displays, cameras swiveling on their mounts. The tribunes were still three-quarters full, leaning forward for the post-dive interviews. I stretched, cracked my neck, and—"—left the formation within the first hour." Chen Yi's voice carried across the dome. Flat and heavy, every word placed like a brick into a wall he was building between me and the audience.

"He split. Said he didn't need us. We adapted with five. Cleared most of the floor. But we didn't finish, because the team was incomplete." I turned. Chen stood at the host's podium, the warhammer resting on his shoulder, face set in the same granite expression he'd worn since the moment we met. The host stood beside him, microphone angled with the precision of a man who smelled blood in the water.

"That's quite the accusation," the host said, leaning forward just enough for the cameras to catch his eyebrows climbing.

"You're telling me Damian deliberately abandoned his team during a live dive?"

"I'm not accusing." Chen's English was functional and undecorated. Each word was load-bearing.

"I'm reporting. He walked away. We didn't clear because of it. Those are facts. You must have seen it on the screen." The cameras pivoted toward me. Three of them. They'd been waiting. I took a step toward the podium, stretching my neck. The joints popped. This was going to be fireworks. Even if I didn't end up summoning Astarielle.

"And this is the third team in a row," the host continued, voice dripping with professionally manufactured sympathy, "that has reported friction with the Golden Sands summoner. At what point do we have to acknowledge—" I took another step toward them, forming the most diplomatic version of go fuck yourself that my charisma stat could manage. A hand caught my arm.

"Don't." Sarah's grip was firm enough that I could feel the chainmail links through my jacket sleeve. She'd materialized beside me in full armor, shield still on her back, blonde braid pulled tight, blue eyes carrying equal amounts of determination and exhaustion.

"Not here. Not like this."

"I need to set the record straight."

"He's telling the truth, and you know it." Her voice was low, pitched below the camera range.

"You did leave. You did go alone. It doesn't matter why. If you walk up there, all you'll do is escalate with nothing to gain for anyone." I opened my mouth.

"I can't keep doing this," she said. Not angry, not pleading, just tired.

"Every dive, it's something. The demons, the attitude, the going off on your own. And every time, I'm the one standing in the middle, holding the whole thing together, as if it's my job." She let go of my arm.

"I shouldn't have to be doing this, Damian." That stung somehow. She didn't have to do anything. Her own morals compelled her to. But, at the same time, I knew what her morals were. I just didn't care. I looked at the podium. The host had noticed Sarah pulling me aside and was deciding whether to redirect the cameras. Chen hadn't moved. His jaw was set, knuckles pale around the warhammer shaft. He wasn't performing for the audience. He genuinely believed what he was saying. I straightened my jacket.

"This time."

"Thanks," Sarah echoed, without warmth, and walked back toward the dome's interior. I turned and walked the other direction. Away from the cameras, away from Chen's voice still carrying in flat, honest sentences across the dome, away from the host's delighted commentary. The corridor toward the hub opened up ahead, wide and utilitarian. The Pacific wind found me through a gap in the wall, salt and warmth and the distant rhythmic clang of construction. A shadow fell over me from behind.

A very long-fingered hand landed on my shoulder. Not heavy, but firm. I stopped glancing over my shoulder at Mina. I didn't jump out of my skin, this time, but I still had no idea how she got to me so easily. She smirked.

"Where's my loot?"

"Lovely to see you too."

"Don't misdirect. You were supposed to bring my loot yesterday. You didn't." She narrowed her eyes.

"You do still have it, right?"

"But of course I do." I raised my hand.

"Not here." She jerked me a bit sideways.

"Come." She interacted with me just strongly enough to move me, but just weakly enough to avoid triggering my shields. That wasn't a coincidence. She wasn't just fast and strong. She also precisely understood how mage shields worked. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Dangerous as Hell, wasn't she? I did move. She led me toward the Lucielle Legal section. That took fifteen minutes, which could have been ten if my legs were longer.

Mina's stride was almost double mine, so I spent the trip at an undignified half-jog while she moved at what was clearly her version of a leisurely stroll. She didn't talk. She didn't slow down. She didn't let go. The Pacific coast scrolled past, palm trees and construction and the ordered geometry of the island's sections. The Lucielle Legal section was the most organized part of the settlement. Clean lines, functional buildings, everything arranged to please even someone with the worst type of OCD.

Even the plants looked like they'd been issued regulation pots and were bound to grow into perfectly shaped environments. Mina's house sat at the far edge, near the water. Or at least that's what I assumed it was, given we walked there. The house looked a lot like mine. Barely finished. Though hers didn't even have AC, and had the electric cables torn out outside. She opened the door. There was no lock. Inside was one large room. Everything inside was either wood or furs. Floor, walls, ceiling, all wood.

The outside was concrete, so this was placed here for a reason. Animal furs covered all types of spots; the bed a pile of furs with the frame barely visible. Most were bear furs of various types, some might have been elk, a lot of foxes, a tiger, actually, three tigers, leopards, lions… damn, what a collection. No fridge. No stove. No microwave. No lamps. No AC. The inside was as hot as a sauna. The only light came from the windows, which had fur-made curtains.

Mina kicked off her sneakers after she closed the door. She stretched, even taller now because she straightened.

"Is this your place?" I asked.

"Obviously. Everywhere else has cameras. Loot caught on camera will have to be submitted to the org." She took off her pullover, threw it aside, only with a bra underneath. She continued stretching.

"Place it over here." She motioned at a box on a shelf by the side. Could she not wait the thirty seconds before I walked out? I couldn't help but notice her body. Lean, thin, muscular but in the track athlete style. She did have a six-pack, and visible muscle definition everywhere, but her shoulders were as narrow as Astarielle's. I acted as if I didn't see anything, and instead, summoned the index from my soul chamber. The blue crystals on it glistened as if with inner light. I put it on the shelf.

"There. If you aren't giving it to the org, then why do you even want it? It's a priceless artifact for a research department. But like this, it's just a paperweight." She smirked.

"It's pretty. And shiny. I like souvenirs." Ah. Of course. I headed for the door.

"By the way," I tried.

"Do you have any good hackers in the organization? I need someone who can enter the tower and has a chance to figure out how to hack some of the tower's technology."

"Hmm, we might." Mina pulled off her pants and threw them aside. She jumped into the bed, stretching languidly.

"There's this one guy. He's a mage type. Glasses, a lot of scans… hmm…" Apparently, the concept of modesty eluded her. She looked great, but like, what the fuck? Didn't she say she had teenage sextuplets?

"Right, the glasses are round, he really casts scans all the time, tries to dress cool but is too nerdy to pull it off. He's German, has some accent, his name starts with G… or maybe, H…?" I rubbed my face with my palm.

"Henrik?"

"Henrik. Yes. That's the one. You'll find him at the central café." I sighed.

"Thanks." She dug herself into the furs, and I walked out. With a few texts, I ensured he was at the café. He was. When I got closer, I saw him. He had a very large cup of coffee in front of him, and a tablet in his hands, at which he was intensely glaring.

"Hey," I said, and next to him. A smirk tugged on his lips.

"I've heard your current floor team loves you."

"Oh, yeah. I think we would've fought each other if it weren't for Sarah."

"She must have truly angered the heavens to be sent here to us." He sipped from his coffee.

"I have also heard that you got caught by Mina and seem to be alive to tell the tale." I paused.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"For no reason in particular. So, I suppose she told you to find me here."

"She did."

"I must admit I am rather predictable when it comes to this place." He scanned me with a side glance.

"So, what brings you here? It is unlike you to seek others."

"On floor 22, I found the offices of Paradise. They have computers, including biomechanical ones. I need someone who can hack into one." He narrowed his eyes.

"Why would you come to me? Is it because of the glasses? Because of the scans? Because I think about things everyone else punches first? Or because my magic is built upon actual understanding of the matter, rather than instinct or natural ability?" A smile spread over my face.

"You're still the nerdiest person around. If there's a hacker among the climbers, you're a hot candidate. Plus, Mina told me you can do it."

"She knows nothing about me, my past, or my specialization. This is all built on an absurdly stereotypical analysis. It's baseless preconceptions with no foundation in reality."

"So, can you hack into stuff?" He sighed.

"I'm a graduate of the Technical University of Munich. Yes, I can." Hah. With a laugh, I lightly slapped his shoulder.

"Stereotypes sure work out, don't they?"

"You do not have to gloat about it."

"I do. I'll clear the floor tomorrow. If I get the process right, then you can go on a lower floor after you pass your current one, rerun your previous floor while others block the other possible advancement floors, so that you're guaranteed floor 22." He took a long sip from the coffee.

"In a nutshell. The second wave is filling the tower up to floor 15, so they should be able to get to floor 22 within a week. I will have it arranged with my organization. First, I clear it, and then we rerun it together. The information about Paradise is crucial." He pushed the glasses up his nose.

"But it is also personal. We have to solve it ourselves." Indeed. This wasn't something I was willing to trust to others. Imagining Chen trying to deal with Paradise made me shudder.

"Thanks."

"Before you go," Henrik said, slightly sharpening the tone.

"Who taught you your shields?" Ooh.

"I see you've been scanning me."

"Many times, from all angles. Your shields look common at first. The top layer is standard. But underneath lie eight layers of an arcane abomination of self-rebuilding, reactiveness, predictiveness, and pseudo-algorithmic reinforcement. You did not find that in a book."

"True," I admitted.

"I've got a mentor who's quite the spellcaster. She taught them to me." He pushed the glasses up his nose.

"How many more layers do they go to?"

"Fourteen. Bottom eight are foundation, nine is transition, the rest are specialization."

"The third layer is the one I cannot figure out. How do you make that?" Now we got to the real question. That was the layer that held the foundation together. Was I going to share it with him? Sure, why not?

"I don't know how you learn magic, but to me, it's a feeling. I can't teach it or explain it, but this one's like building a sand castle from sticks while the Moonlight Sonata is playing. I know how it sounds." Henrik observed me for a few seconds.

"I will try that. Thanks." I got up from the seat and headed away. They let me out of the section, so I walked straight to my place. In there, I hopped into the bed and focused on the skill tree. The maze of nodes popped into my vision. I found the Soulcarver class, and allocated a point to the level 25 skill, Advanced Engraving. My vision shifted. I saw Elsha standing above the body of a succubus. She moved her hands over it, and the flesh changed underneath her palm. Her voice spoke into my mind.

'Except for me, nobody is perfect. Some hide their imperfections, many act as if they didn't exist, and others wear them with pride. But to an eye accustomed to perfection, it is all the same. But nothing is set in stone. Imperfect proportions can be stretched. Imbalanced muscles can be strengthened. Ugly bone structure can be rearranged. For when one knows the look of pe rfection, the mishaps of nature are mere annoyances to solve.' My vision snapped back.

Okay, so the mentors for the specializations were existing beings. Ah, well. Time to put advanced engravings on my demons.