Chương 20: Chapter Twenty: Uneasy Truce

TWENTY Ten coffins dragged through the portal and the last of the level guardians nothing more than scattered bones. Roan couldn't keep a satisfied look off of his face as he leaned back with his hands on his hips. It was good work done quickly and efficiently. Seeing his bank account swell was satisfying an itch he hadn't known he had. A little over thirteen hundred credits. Eleven hundred and twenty-five credits for the coffins after his ten percent was deducted to the association.

Then the rest had come from helping kill the last of the guardians and his pathetic attempt at collecting bone dust. He was still a ways away from hitting his goal of fifteen-thousand but it had been a nice jump. With the guardians dead and the rest of the saferoom willing to ally with them, the groups had begun to clear through the alleys with brutal speed. Roan hadn't done a shift yet as he worked on selling the coffins and bone dust, but he had a feeling he'd be back in the tight hallways again.

They were moving at a very fast rate now that they had found a reliable method of killing the skeletons and getting rest. The steady stream of weapons coming back to be sold along with jewelry plundered from the dead was inflating bank accounts." I'll have new information soon enough. People will be buying skills soon enough." BANK BALANCE: 2, 013 CREDITS LEVEL 2 OPENING IN: 39 HOURS LEVEL 1 CLEAR RATE: 28%"Thirty-nine more hours to get another thirteen thousand. I can do that.

As long as I don't buy more stupid shit," Roan grumbled as he felt along his neck and the amulet that sat there. He still didn't know what it did, but the price for repairing it had been eye-watering.

"Then why do I want to keep repairing these stupid amulets," Roan muttered as he started back toward the portal.

"I know what you are," Nash's voice was loud in the near silence of the safe room. Roan stopped in his tracks as he looked toward the man." Sloppy. Real sloppy." Roan chided himself as he forced himself not to react violently, turning to confront the would-be thief. He still had his slick backed hair, but it had grown disheveled over the last ten hours. The jacket and jeans had more bloodstains, more tears in his jacket, and dark rings under his eyes from lack of sleep.

Roan kept his eyes on the man's hands, which Nash kept visibly to his sides. A long handled knife was in his belt loop, not far at all from his hand. Roan's warhammer was on his shoulder in his hand already though.

"Know what I am?" Roan asked, setting himself ready to attack or defend. He checked the hills around them but didn't see anymore of Nash's goons.

"A fighter. A survivor. Like me."" Is he really trying to bond with me? This is some cliched shit." Roan stared at him deadpan until Nash shrugged and sighed.

"Didn't honestly think that was going to work. Had to try though, you know how it is," Nash said as his eyes became flat discs. There was no emotion in them at all as he stared at Roan.

"That's more like it. I prefer you like this. Without the pretenses," Roan said as Nash dropped his mask.

"Told you we were alike," Nash said.

"I'm not an actual sociopath. Just practical."

"Is that what you tell yourself? Do you actually believe it?" Nash asked.

"Get to the point. I have work to do."

"You know they have their own agenda. They'll toss you to the side the moment you're not useful." Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Yeah. Not worried about that. I can take care of myself." They continued to stare at each other, Nash not moving at all as he continued to stare. The staredown started to become uncomfortably long.

"Why haven't you killed me?" Nash finally asked.

"It would have a negative effect on how I'm perceived. I have to wait till nobody notices you're dead. Can't have the larger group thinking about how I've killed multiple people inside of a day. It's a good way to get a knife rammed in your back," Roan answered honestly.

"See, that's why I think we're alike. That's the type of mental calculations that I do."

"I also don't enjoy killing people. It's just something that needs to be done," Roan countered.

"Something that needs to be done. I like that. Who's old Bao? It scared all those soft-spined locals."

"Just a trainer," Roan said, tired of their conversation, but not dumb enough to turn his back on Nash.

"Just a trainer? I don't believe that."

"I don't care that you don't believe that. So, either back up or we fight. I don't have to kill you, a few broken bones will take care of the problem." Roan hefted his warhammer off his shoulder and held it at the ready.

"None of that. We have a little truce, the two of us. You don't cave in the back of my skull and I won't knife you. Sounds fair?"

"I can work with that. Stay the fuck away from me and don't try that gang shit again. I won't cave in your skull," Roan agreed. The two of them slowly backed away from each other, Nash toward the center of the saferoom while Roan went towards the portal back into the tower. The nausea was almost non-existent now after so many trips through the portal. The coolness of the crypt was welcoming as he reemerged back into the cul-de-sac. Sounds of fighting reached him immediately as he looked over the area.

Every single one of the hallways had teams of fighters in it, rotating in the same manner that Darren had originally pushed them too. Piles of loot were being sorted out as bones were dragged and sorted to the side. Roan's poor foray into collecting bone dust hadn't been that beneficial, but they were up to something as four people worked hard on crushing and grinding the bones into dust. They weren't doing a great job as it mostly looked like bone chips mixed with dust, but they were hard at work.

Darren stood to the side with Taoya and Moira, thumbing through the compendium with a scowl on his face. Roan could tell it was Darren's ideas at play here as they were harvesting everything that could be harvested. Moira was right next to him, head over his shoulder as she read the book." I'm not the only one with goals and plans. They aren't dumb and sitting on their thumbs waiting for me to make a move. What is their move here though?" It wasn't just the weapons, jewelry, and bone dust.

The crypts were being systemically stripped as the teams slowly pushed forward. Groups going through them one by one and returning with harvested materials.

"ROAN!" Taoya's voice boomed and attention turned toward him. Roan had to fight to keep the look of irritation off his face as he walked over to his newfound team, ready to push forward and start clearing out the level.

"I have to thank you Roan, this compendium was a good buy," Darren said, snapping the book closed as he got closer.

"As long as I can look through it with everyone else. Then, yeah, it was a good buy. The market has all sorts of interesting stuff," Roan said. He could have sworn Darren looked mad about admitting the compendium was useful. That or he was angry about something else, the way his jaw was bunching up was an easy tell.

"Of course. We've decided to start using the group funds to buy skills for the group. Have to thank you for finding a way to grind out money," Darren continued on. Roan felt his stomach sink as he remembered the unique skills he had seen. He wanted them, wanted Learn bad enough he could taste it.

"We think…" Darren began but was cut off by Moira coughing in her hand. The other man grimaced and pursed his lips before he restarted.

"Moira thinks that we have enough natural ingredients here in the first level that with the right skill we could produce our own healing potions. So we're going to look at buying whatever skills is necessary for that first," Darren said and Roan's stomach unclenched.

"After that we're going to focus on more of the unique skills though. I think if we all work together we can form a solid core to push higher," Darren continued on without slowing.

"Sounds like a good plan. I'm going to take a turn in the tunnels now," Roan said, breaking away from them and heading directly towards the closest hallway." Good idea, Roan. Get them to buy a book of knowledge and be surprised when people use it. You need to lock the fuck in, now. Thirteen thousand to go." Roan shoved past the groups in the halls, moving through the tight confines toward the front of the line, hammer at the ready as the horde of undead continued their endless assault.

Roan didn't know if it was the constant exposure or the time crunch, but when he stared at the undead he didn't see their yellowed bones, blackened teeth, or rust weapons. He just saw dollar signs.