Now with Leon in tow, their pace was slower. But it almost felt closer to a backpacking trip in the Georgia woods than an otherworld excursion as Cole listened to the kid tell Roxy and Howie about his favorite manga, his friends, his parents, and all the other things he missed from Earth in the six months he’d been stuck on Vael.
Howie talked back as if they’d gone to the same high school, knowing far more about Japanese comics, shows, and music than Cole ever would. Almost an encyclopedic amount of knowledge of things Cole had only ever dipped his toes into. Apparently, there was a whole world he was missing.
Roxy, on the other hand, rambled back about her favorite cartoons as a kid, Navy Bootcamp, and her squat PR goal. All three of them avoided the one experience they actually shared: being taken by otherworlders. Besson got peopled out after listening to them talk for about five minutes and decided to range ahead, but Cole stuck closer. Roxy was good with the kid, helping him take his mind off the experiences on Vael. Hell, maybe this kid at some point even imagined escaping the mundanity of his daily life to come be a superhero in another world. Bricker had mentioned books along those lines, and Leon claimed it was a popular topic in his comics.
But this wasn’t an adventure. Vael was in the midst of a demonic world war—and Leon had precisely none of the tools needed to survive it. The kid would be traumatized, need years of therapy, and then one day, maybe he’d be the one pulling others out.
Probably what helped the kid get over his circumstances most was actually Nutmeg, who kept circling back for scritches and pets, which Leon doled out eagerly. Apparently, what he missed more than anything, was his family’s dog.
When they stopped for the day, making a small bivouac in the woods, Leon was so exhausted that he passed out instantly. Cole looked at him and shook his head. “Radio check-in in thirty mikes, so I’ll take first watch,” he told the others. He glanced at Howie.
“What?” the mage asked.
“Why are there so many Japanese cartoons with this kind of stuff?” he asked, gesturing to their general surroundings.
Howie shrugged. “Art imitates life. We’ve got a sister agency in Japan, you know. And in Korea. I heard from the Kickers that we cross-train personnel sometimes. I wouldn’t mind going to Japan.”
“No shit?” asked Cole.
Roxy nodded along, running her hand over Leon’s head as he slept. He’d fallen asleep with his head on her thigh. “Their kids get taken almost as often as ours do. Russia has one too, and the UK. China might have one, but if they do, they’re not coordinating with the rest of us. Their problem is crossover events in rural areas. Demons and ghosts and stuff. There are a lot of spirit fighters and mystics over there. The practice goes back thousands of years.”
“Go figure,” said Cole, leaning back against a tree. He considered. “Howie, once we get back, I’m going to need you to recommend me a few of those cartoons. For, you know, research.”
Howie grinned and tapped the side of his nose. “Right. Research. I got you covered."
Before heading out to make his radio check-in to hopefully reach Moriarty, he picked up the spear he’d taken from the knight. He pulled out his LF analyzer and tapped it on the weapon.
Vorpal-bladed above-average spear of demon-culling
Vorpal weapons are capable of piercing armor one rarity level higher than the weapon.
This spear has a 13%-16% chance to instantly banish demons.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Once per day, the user may throw this spear. Lightning will strike an enemy within 15 meters, prioritizing and dealing extra damage to demons.>
“Huh. Above average.”
Howie snapped up. “For real? That’s like, crazy good.”
“It’s above average, at least,” said Cole.
Roxy laughed. “Yeah, that’s not how it works. The scale goes Lesser, minor, average, above-average, greater, supreme, presidential, and presidential has no upper limit in power. You don’t start seeing above-average gear until RI-4 worlds, usually. That knight must have killed some crazy strong demon to get it.”
“That’s a weird-ass scale,” said Cole. He focused on the spear and the haft started to shrink in his hand until it was the size of a heavy dagger. Much easier to carry that way.
Roxy shrugged. “It used to end at greater, but we just kept finding more and more dangerous worlds with more and more powerful loot. It’s all in the SOP—though a lot of it is just the Termlink AI doing its best guesswork. The gods and systems for these worlds are making loot on the fly. The analyzer just does its best to classify it with a standard system and slap a label on.”
“That’s another thing,” said Cole. “We’re seeing these guys run around with hand-cannons and crossbows. How come the gods are giving us automatic rifles and grenade launchers?”
Besson pushed himself up. “This is turning into a thing,” he said, “So I’m going to take first watch.”
They watched him climb out of the bivouac with Nutmeg.
Howie held up his hand. “Again, best guess here, since Earth doesn’t have a real Lewis Field. But the gods or systems or whatever that like seeing us kill each other doles out loot by creating a manifestation of the fusion between the souls of killer and victim—also why you have to be soul-keyed to an item to use it. The form of the loot is shaped by the killer’s mind, while the properties of the loot is shaped by the victim. We’re intruders in these worlds. We’re sort of hacking the local systems, in a way, and doing things the locals can’t. A lot of it is conceptual-based.”
Cole raised an eyebrow. “Pretend you’re talking to your dumbass squad leader, here,” he said.
Howie moved his hands in circles. “You know, like concepts. We have a concept of a gas-powered automatic rifle. We have a concept of a superhero who can leap tall buildings in a single bound. It makes no difference to a god whether we get a weapon with a full-auto sear or a wheel lock. The gods aren’t inventing guns. They’re pulling them out of our heads."
Cole wasn’t sure he liked the idea of gods rooting around in his head, even if they were using their tour to give him otherworld armaments like the Silk Forest rifle. Trying to wrap his head around how humans interacted with different Lewis Fields across different worlds made his brain ache. He checked his watch.
“I’m going to go try to make our radio call,” he said.
He climbed out of the bivouac and up a nearby hill, hoping for a better signal for the long-range radio. One of his ability charges was back up, but he didn’t want to waste it climbing a tree. If their end had gone well, even without Leon in tow, Moriarty should have executed their ambush and already be heading back to the vehicles.
“Moriarty, team two. Radio check.”
He waited. Nothing.
“Moriarty, team two.”
Crickets. Or, whatever the Vaelian equivalent was. Cole pursed his lips and sighed. The SOP was clear on this. They had the rescue, their objective was to get Leon to the extract, above all else. He didn’t like being out of communication like this. Even if they had a small drone to act as a radio relay. But then they’d need someone to operate it, and it was probably vulnerable to flying demons and monsters anyway.
God, this was so different from anything he’d trained for in the army. Even in the scout platoon, it was rare to be somewhere you couldn’t hear the sound of a highway or a helicopter or a diesel engine. This world predated radios and internal combustion, from what he’d seen. It took a rare type to be able to function in an environment like this. Yet, somehow, Cole felt oddly at ease with nothing but the birds and the bugs filling out the ambiance. He wondered what the shrinks would say about that.
Twisting the radio power off, he headed back to the bivouac to bed down for a few hours. He ducked in below the camo netting to see Howie already passed out, and Roxy smiling down at the sleeping Leon. She patted the ground next to her and Cole made his way over and eased down.
“You did good,” she said. She shifted her weight, leaning a little of it against his side. She smelled like gunsmoke and sulfur. “Probably added a few more years of therapy with that jumping stunt. But you got him out. I think you’re cut out for this kind of thing, you know?”
Cole grunted, neither affirming or denying the praise. “I won’t be able to jump my way out of every problem.”
“True. But you did it this time. And tomorrow or at least soon, this kid will be back with his family because you were able to.”
Cole could already feel himself nodding off. “Only cause I had you guys watching my back,” he admitted. “For a super-nerd, a gym-nut, a dog-whisperer, and a sneaky shady bitch, this turned out to be a hell of a team.”
Now he just had to keep it from all falling apart.