“Just look at your map,” Sam said. “I’ve shared the damned thing with you.”
“Well, your map is filled with gobbledygook, and I can’t see what’s what,” Coop replied.
Sam frowned, turning to face Pete and shrugging.
[Nero] It appears that you have selected ‘detailed explanatory notes’ on your map settings, Coop. That is why there is so much text currently being displayed. In truth, as this map is currently being borrowed from Sam, I was not aware that such a modification was even possible. If you navigate to your display settings, you should be able to—
“Jesus,” Sam hissed. “Ten! There are around ten enemies. They’re not elites, but I can’t tell yet what kind they are.”
“Won’t have to wait long,” Pete said, gripping the handle above the window as the RV lurched sharply to the left, and Sam narrowly avoided hitting an upturned van.
He squinted against the afternoon sun as the RV came charging out into a large open park with a vast grassy area and only a few trees scattered here and there. At the center of the park was a collection of play equipment, with swings, a slide, and all of the other things you’d expect.
A chill went up Pete’s spine as he looked out at the empty park. He suddenly realized that it wouldn’t have just been adults who were destroyed in the opening moments of the contest. There would have been kids playing outside in parks like this or swimming in pools or riding their bikes.
How many kids were taken in that first brutal act of invasion? How many mothers tried to protect their children and ended up dying alongside them?
Those questions were pushed aside by the bizarre scene unfolding in front of Pete. Sam pulled the RV up in the car park and turned off the engine, squinting and looking up at what looked like a group of bats circling around up above.
“They look like vultures,” she mused. “Circling right over the top of the kiosk.”
Pete squinted and saw that they weren’t oversized bats or birds but appeared to be a flock of goblins with mechanical wings, flying about and shouting at one another in their high-pitched goblin tongue.
>> NON PLAYER CAPITALIST [NPC] CLAN
NAME: The Cash Vultures
>> DESCRIPTION
Once common battlefield scavengers, the Cash Vultures adapted to the Mammon System’s brutal economy by taking to the skies on rusted, steam-powered wing rigs. Their mechanical contraptions cough smoke, rattle gears, and drip boiling oil, but they grant these greedy carrion-goblins the power of flight, which gives them a significant advantage when fighting land-based enemies.
The Vultures live for scraps—coins spilled from dying hands, wallets pried from corpses, and the glitter of lost trinkets shining in the dust. Some claim their founders were once goblin debt collectors who fled into the wastelands and sold their souls for the gift of flight, vowing never again to let wealth slip from their grasp. Now, they haunt the skies like metallic carrion-birds, circling until desperation forces the weak to drop their last coin.
To the Cash Vultures, currency is not just wealth—it is meat, bone, and blood. Where coin bleeds, they gather. Where fortune fails, they feast.
>> CORE CLAN TRAITS
+| Scavenger’s Instinct: Cash Vultures are drawn to fallen loot. Any dropped currency within their sightline can lure them into a frenzied dive. They are also known to congregate around trade locations such as Tongsly Belch Vend-o-matic machines, impromptu trade markets, and the like.
+| Aerial Harassment: Their attacks rarely kill outright but steadily bleed victims of resources in addition to doing damage, forcing adventurers to fight while growing poorer.
+| Flock Tactics: Cash Vultures never strike alone. They circle in noisy swarms, wings clanking and steam hissing, creating confusion and panic. Their numbers are also deceptive as they frequently pair together to conserve energy and then split apart when attacking, effectively doubling their numbers.
>> CLAN UNITS
+| Coin Divers (Basic Fliers)
Weapons: Rusty talons and divebomb strikes.
Mechanic: Execute a “Coin Divebomb” at players holding visible loot; chance to steal small amounts of currency on impact.
+| Steam Belchers (Support Fliers)
Weapons: Modified wing boilers that vent scalding steam clouds.
Mechanic: “Steam Blight” attack—creates choking smoke screens that burn lightly and obscure line of sight.
+| Toll Takers (Elite Raiders)
Weapons: Jagged, gear-toothed talons and hook-chains.
Mechanic: “Toll Strike” rakes enemies for small coin loss per hit; chance to knock items free from inventory.
Pete looked over at the flock of goblin fliers, trying to guess at their actual strength. Each of the goblins looked no bigger than Craig. In fact, they all seemed smaller, but their size was also augmented by the wings and other apparatus strapped to their backs.
“We should try to draw them away from the vending machine,” Pete said as he and Sam climbed out of the car.
“Agreed,” she said. “Pick a few off with your bow maybe, and we’ll take the rest out when they come after you.”
“Can you send Wolfy up there?”
She shrugged. “I think so. But he’s just gonna fall the moment he blinks up to one of them. If he can get a good grip, he should be able to bring a few down.”
Coop came slinking up beside the pair. “Not much I can do unless they ditch those wings.”
“I can help,” Craig offered, holding the Spinshot Repeater in both hands, his face set in a hard grimace.
Pete looked behind the goblin at his two companions. They were standing inside the RV, clutching the doorway while they watched fearfully.
“Let’s get this done then,” Pete said, turning back to face the enemy and pulling the bow and quiver from his inventory.
He had a troubling thought as he notched an arrow. What if his bad luck extended to the ability to aim and hit a target at range? What if it screwed his crit strike chance and all of the other class benefits he’d acquired?
Instead of moving the meager coin he had to Coop, he stayed visible, aiming for the closest of the flying goblins and steadying his breathing as he moved within range. Sam and Coop walked up alongside him, as well as Craig, who was still brandishing his firearm.
Pete concentrated, focusing all of his attention on the nearest Vulture. He let the arrow fly and watched as it shot right past his quarry, flying off into the afternoon sky and out of sight.
“Shit!” he blurted, loading up another arrow and this time waiting for his charged shot ability to trigger before firing.
Once more he aimed for the closest goblin, waiting until the creature was more or less hovering before firing a second time. A shard of light burst from his bow as the charged arrow shot like a bolt of lightning through the air, once more missing the Vulture entirely but sizzling past so close that it caught the creature’s attention, along with all of the other goblins flying nearby.
“That’ll do, I guess,” Sam mused with a smirk.
The Cash Vultures turned and started moving towards Pete and the group, their winged contraptions spewing clouds of black smoke in their wake, motors screeching like two-stroke motorbike engines being pushed hard. Despite the noise and smoke, the goblins didn’t appear to be moving very fast. In fact, their movements were slow and jittery, and it wasn’t until they came within thirty feet or so that Pete began to understand why.
Each individual Vulture wasn’t a solo traveler but had one or two other goblins attached to their flying frame. This became apparent when, one by one, the smaller Vultures started to disconnect and flew off on their own, darting through the air with much more speed and grace than the larger units.
Within a few moments, the small group of goblin Vultures had expanded to three times its original size. There were at least thirty individual units, some with hooked chains dangling from their bodies, others with wicked-looking steel pincers or gun barrels connected to steam canisters strapped to their backs. The flock spread out as they approached, and Pete used the opportunity to notch another arrow and fire, hoping that the increased number of targets would give him a better shot at hitting something.
The arrow sailed through the air, weaving a path through the flock and missing every single one.
“Fuck!” Pete blurted.
>> ACHIEVEMENT: The Wrong Kind of Triple Shot!
Congratulations! You’ve just proven that you couldn’t hit a barn if it was stapled to your face, a dragon if it was napping in your lap, or a bullseye if you were standing inside it holding the arrow backward.
Three shots, three misses, zero glory. You truly are an inspiration!
ACHIEVEMENT REWARD: The Golden Cross-Eyed Archer Badge
A floating holographic image of a bullseye with a cross through it popped into existence above Pete’s head, drawing a bark of laughter from Sam. He was about to draw another arrow when a group of Vultures all dive-bombed together, flying down towards the group with incredible speed.
After the sound of three bells ringing, there was a loud crack as Craig fired his rifle and one of the Vultures jolted backward, green blood and smoke streaming from its body. At the same time, Wolfy appeared directly in front of the oncoming enemy, opening his jaw and clamping down on one of the hapless divers mid-flight and crunching through metal and goblin flesh.
Pete had just enough time to swap out his bow for the machete and swung the weapon two-handed in a savage upward arc towards the dive-bombing enemy. He swung the blade with all the force he could manage, but a moment before the Vulture was in range, its wingsuit malfunctioned, making one wing temporarily freeze up while the other kept flapping. That shifted the creature to the right and just out of range of the machete swing, meaning that the blade only clipped the edge of one metal wing and sent Pete hurtling forward while the Vultures struck.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The machete slammed into the ground, wedging itself deep into the earth as Pete’s shoulder was wrenched forward. He felt a sharp sting on the back of his neck as he spun around, ripping the machete out of the ground and swinging at the enemy again. The strike cut through the air but failed to make contact with any of the attacking goblins.
>> FUNDS STOLEN: You have been pickpocketed by a Cash Vulture!
>> STATUS WARNING: YOUR ASS IS BROKE!
Pete wasn’t sure how much money he’d had in his wallet at the time of the attack, but it was gone now, and he was no closer to actually hitting any of the enemies. A quick look around confirmed that Sam and Craig were both having better luck, with Wolfy mauling the Vulture it had grabbed in midair and Craig finishing off one of the enemy flyers he had shot with his blade.
Even Coop was getting in on the action, having jumped up and latched onto one of the goblin flyers at the moment it struck, ripping its ear off and then summoning and exploding her shield at point-blank range, effectively crushing the Vulture with the percussive force of the impact.
“Anyone else lose any money?” Pete said, drawing his bow again.
Sam shook her head, grinning. “Just you, Luckless Larry.”
He aimed at one of the retreating goblins and fired a shot which, predictably, missed the target.
“FUCK!” Pete roared. “This luck debuff is killing me!”
Coop snorted. “Well, it’s certainly not killing any goblins.”
[Nero] Perhaps you can increase your odds a little by significantly increasing your firing rate. I would suggest that if only one in every twenty or so shots will actually connect, given your luck debuff, you will simply need to fire more arrows more swiftly.
“I haven’t got enough arrows for that shit!” Pete protested.
Pete watched the Cash Vultures circling above. The Coin Divers had flown back up to the larger group, and now several of the units with steam guns and boilers strapped to their backs descended, with the Coin Divers acting like fighter jets escorting bombers on a destructive run.
Realizing that any attempts to use the bow would likely just waste arrows, Pete swapped the weapon out for the machete and prepared to use his Rapid Fire Coin Toss ability.
“I need as much money as you can spare,” he said to Coop.
“Why? So you can lose it all again?!” the ferret protested.
“Just trust me!”
Coop transferred the remaining Belch Bucks she had on hand, but it amounted to just three hundred coins, and Pete knew that this would only give him two or three sustained bursts of the ability, so he’d have to make them count.
The Steam Belchers approached at a slower pace than their Coin Diver allies, so Pete braced himself and summoned his Pauper’s Ward as they drew near. Steam hissed and poured from the canisters on their backs as they approached. There were five units in all, surrounded by smaller, faster units that were weaving back and forth in a bee-like protective formation.
Sam sent Wolfy up to attack one of the Belchers while they were still too far away to fire their weapons, and, true to form, the hellhound tore into the enemy with brutal efficiency. Within just a few seconds, one of the Steam Belcher canisters had ruptured and caused a catastrophic explosion, which sent parts of the goblin unit scattering in all directions and knocked another Belcher into a nearby Coin Diver, tangling them together and scorching the smaller goblin as the steam gun went off, causing further chaos to the formation.
“Yahtzee!” Sam shouted with delight, shoving her hands out in front of her as spectral chains surrounded one of the other Belchers and began tightening around the goblin unit.
Craig fired his weapon, failing to deal a lethal blow but winging one of the Belchers and causing it to flail about, wings knocking into a nearby Coin Diver as Craig fired a second time, but with more accuracy and damage. A burst of coin-like projectiles shot from the Spinshot Repeater, accompanied by the sound of a jackpot ringing from the slot mechanism on top of the gun.
Pete waited until the unharmed Steam Belcher was in range and then unleashed the full fury of his Rapid Fire Coin Toss ability right at the moment the enemy fired. A gust of steam shot directly at Pete but was deflected by his Pauper’s Ward, while the initial burst of his Coin Toss attack sprayed in all directions, deflected by the steam.
Several of the coins hit the mark, however, knocking the barrel of the steam gun to the side and allowing the other coin projectiles to batter the enemy units. The hit rate was still laughably low for the projectiles, but Pete poured every last coin in his wallet at the attackers, pleased to see that at least some of the rounds were hitting their mark.
The closest Steam Belcher spun around like a spinning wheel as the steam pouring from its gun propelled it into an uncontrolled spin. Several nearby enemies were badly scorched as a result, falling in a chaotic knot towards Pete as he pulled back the machete and swung with all his strength, hoping that there were enough enemies coming his way that he’d be able to hit at least one of them.
The machete scythed through the air, carving right through the spinning body of the closest Steam Belcher and cutting through the mechanical wings and a portion of the steam canister at its back. Steam hissed, sending a scorching cloud of impossibly hot vapor out in all directions as Pete’s swing continued, cutting through one of the Coin Divers and bisecting the creature’s body in one swing.
>> KILL REWARD: 30 Belch Bucks
Pete felt a thrill of excitement at finally being able to hit something, but the sensation was short-lived as his entire body was engulfed in a withering gust of steam. The pain was immediate and intense, burning his skin and forcing him to close his eyes and turn away from the blast, ducking and rolling on the grass in a desperate effort to get clear.
He rolled on the ground, coming up into a crouch and opening his eyes. It felt like fire was licking at his body, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain, swinging the machete at a wounded Steam Belcher but missing entirely both because of his watery eyes and Luck debuff.
>> PAIN TOLERANCE PROFICIENCY +1
He swung and kicked and swung again, trying to hit something, anything, but could only manage to make contact on every tenth hit or so. It was exhausting work and intensely frustrating, but Pete found that the more he swung and missed, the more he pushed his body into the fight and felt his anger rise, the more a strange clarity began to emerge within his mind.
Something moved up above, and Pete felt a thrust of sharp pain in his shoulder. He spun around, expecting to see an enemy, but instead saw a rusty chain stretching up from his shoulder, pinned in place by a hook that bit into his flesh.
He’d just registered that fact when another hook came shooting down from above, clamping onto his other shoulder by means of a motorized set of pincers that dug in deep. Spikes shot out from the pincers once they had bitten into the meat of his shoulder, sending a stab of agony through his body.
Pete screamed in pain and rage as the two Toll Takers that had descended from the sky and targeted him for their attack beat their wings furiously in an attempt to lift him off the ground. The pain in his shoulders was like nothing else he’d experienced before. He tried to swing the machete at one of the chains to dislodge it, but the instant stab of pain it caused was enough to make him scream and almost drop the weapon altogether.
Pete flailed about, held an inch or so off the ground as the two Toll Takers tried and failed to pull him higher into the air. He cursed, spat, and hissed in anger and pain as the strange mental clarity he had felt moments earlier when in the thick of battle returned.
>> PAIN TOLERANCE PROFICIENCY +1
Pete could sense something changing within him as his anger continued to grow and his mind was scoured by the all-consuming pain of the hooks biting into his flesh. It was a profoundly odd sensation to be assailed by agony and awash with blurred images of fighting while also sensing an underlying change taking place within his body and mind.
He was aware of the blood pouring from his wounds, the reddened skin where his body had been scorched by the steam. He was also vaguely aware of his companions fighting against the Cash Vultures and, apparently, having a lot more success than he was experiencing. Yet all of those thoughts were secondary things, subsumed beneath the blinding pain and separate from the palpable change he was undergoing.
It was only at the moment the System recognized that change that Pete himself understood what was happening.
>> BERSERKER SUBCLASS FEATURE UNLOCKED: NEW ABILITY
+| BLOOD OVERDRAFT
+| Base Effect: You draw on your own lifeblood as collateral, overspending your strength for a limited time. To you, the world slows, granting sharpened perception and explosive power.
+25% Strength
+20% Critical Strike Chance
+15% Luck
All active debuffs are reduced in effectiveness by 50%
>> SCALING: DEBT OF PAIN
For every 10% of maximum HP lost, gain an additional:
+5% Strength
+2% Critical Strike Chance
+1% Luck
(Max scaling at 90% HP lost: +45% Strength, +18% Critical Chance, +9% Luck, in addition to base bonuses.)
>> DURATION
15 seconds (base), scaling up to 30 seconds at higher levels.
>> DRAWBACK
When Blood Overdraft ends, you suffer Fatigue: -15% Strength and -20% Movement Speed for 60 seconds.
There was no time to consider the implications of the new ability, and Pete triggered it without hesitation. He felt a thrill of strength and focus flow through his mind as the world around him seemed to slow down. His blurred vision cleared, and he became much more aware of everything around him. It wasn’t that the pain had gone, or that he had acquired some ability to block it out; instead, the pain energized him, filling his body with strength and vigor.
Pete looked skyward, spotting the two Toll Takers flying above. Their wings moved in slow motion, flapping back and forth while they strained against the chains pulling at his body. He dropped the machete back into his inventory and reached up with both hands, leaning back and grabbing each of the chains in a tight grip.
He roared in anger, yanking the chains downward with enough force to pull the two Toll Takers down to his level. They cried out in slow motion, eyes wide in confusion as he rounded on the nearest goblin and threw a fist into the creature’s face. Pete pounded the goblin, mashing its features with three brutal punches before grabbing it by the end of the chain closest to the bottom of its flying rig and smashing it like a club into the other enemy.
>> KILL REWARD: 30 Belch Bucks
Pete battered the pair until there was no life left in them, at which point he ripped the chains from his shoulders, tearing out chunks of flesh and sending blood gushing as he pulled out the machete and advanced on several other enemies that were harassing Coop, hovering a few feet above the ground.
>> ACHIEVEMENT: Rage Equity!
You mortgaged your body and invested your agony wisely. Pain became profit, suffering became strength—and your enemies were forced to pay dividends in blood. Because…money, right!
>> ACHIEVEMENT REWARD: 1 Attribute Point!
Pete ignored the notification, jumping for the closest Cash Vulture and grabbing it out of the air with one hand and smashing it into the ground like a toddler meting out its displeasure with a toy. The goblin flailed about, blood pouring from its body as the Vulture’s own mechanical wings tore at its body as they flapped helplessly. Pete slammed the creature one final time against the ground with sufficient force to rip the creature out of its flight suit and send it hurtling across the grass, one arm still connected to the wings, a trail of green blood in its wake.
>> KILL REWARD: 15 Belch Bucks
He summoned the machete from his inventory and moved to the next enemy within range, heedless of the blood still pouring from his shoulders as he swung the huge weapon. The stroke went wide of the mark, missing a nearby Vulture, but Pete continued the momentum of the strike, shouldering into the Coin Diver and knocking it off course as he swung the blade around a second time. The second strike carved through a wing and half the body of the unfortunate goblin, sending a spray of arterial blood skyward.
>> KILL REWARD: 15 Belch Bucks
The enemies were moving so slowly it was easy enough to overcome his Luck debuff and fumble his way to victory. The Blood Overdraft bonuses also helped to counter the debuff, making it so that Pete felt like he was fighting while tipsy instead of black-out drunk, and that was good enough. He was connecting with the enemy roughly half the time, and those were odds he could work with while the berserker ability lasted.
As a hook buried itself into his chest and released its biting barbs, Pete felt a mixture of pain and euphoria as blood gushed from the wound. He grabbed hold of the chain, turning to see the Toll Taker that had struck him and, once more, yanking it so savagely that the goblin came hurtling through the air and straight towards his fist.
Pete punched the flyer so hard that it sent two goblin teeth flying as the little creature shrieked and sprayed snot and blood from its mouth. Pete slammed his fist into the creature’s head a second time, ending the Cash Vulture’s complaint swiftly and with lethal efficiency while knocking another two teeth free and sending them flying into the air.
>> ACHIEVEMENT: Oral Surgery (No Anesthetic)!
Congratulations! You just performed emergency dentistry on a goblin. Step one: punch two teeth out. Step two: punch the rest of its face off. Step three: wonder why your hands are covered in blood and enamel.
ACHIEVEMENT REWARD: Brawling Proficiency +1, Bare Fist Fighting Proficiency +1
KILL REWARD: 15 Belch Bucks!
Pete ripped the chain and hook from his chest, then swung it around in a loop, raking the air above and catching one of the nearby Coin Diver’s angles with the barb. He yanked downward, watching as the slow-motion goblin thudded into the ground, one wing bent at an odd angle and crumbling under the force of the impact while the goblin itself spilled out of its harness and landed directly in front of Pete.
Filled with berserker rage and feeling utterly invincible in that moment, Pete brought his boot down against the hapless goblin, narrowly avoiding crushing the little creature’s skull as it scurried away. Time seemed to shift as Pete’s boot hit the ground. The de-winged goblin had begun crawling slowly but picked up pace until it was sprinting away from Pete, screaming bloody murder, arms flailing above its head.
All at once, Pete understood that the Blood Overdraft ability had ceased. He gasped for breath as all the strength seemed to drain out of his body in an instant, leaving him with crippling weakness as he fell to his knees and dropped the machete. His entire body ached. Every scrape and bruise, cut and wound screamed their protest as he swayed on his knees and tried to focus blurry eyes on the battlefield.
Sam and the others were still fighting, he knew, but he couldn’t make out any of the details. Instead, all he could do was simply kneel there, waiting for the negative effects of his berserker rage to wear off and hoping that Sam could toss him a medkit before he keeled over.
Aside from the pain, there was a foggy sense of confusion in his mind. His hands ached, and part of him remembered punching several of the goblin enemies, but it all seemed like a fever dream. Why the hell would he punch a goblin flyer and risk breaking his hands on its metallic flying apparatus? Now that he thought about it, he was reasonably sure that he’d broken at least three fingers during his crazed attack.
Pete smiled, bloody teeth showing as he swayed back and forth. It had been a mad dream—a wondrous, exhilarating dream!