Mistrunner - Chapter 41 - Everything is a Test (Patreon)

Since the Intialization, I have killed thousands of people, but even before our planet was inundated by the nano-cloud we call Mist, I was a killer. I think I always had it in me, even going back to childhood. Back then, I knew I wouldn’t hesitate to do what was necessary. And I only grew more certain as the years went by.

Jeremiah Braddock III

I slipped through the crowd, focusing equally on my abilities and my surroundings. I had been on the run for two days, evading Vanna and a trio of hijacked amigos the entire time. It was the longest I’d ever spent avoiding capture – a sign of how far I’d come if ever there was one. As I wove my way through the pedestrians, I tried to remember my lessons. The first and most important tenet was to blend in. To that end, I wore ragged, shapeless clothing, with my distinctive hair stuffed under a cap. However, other than my attire, I didn’t make any other concessions to concealment. In my mind, Vanna’s words kept me company:

“You know who looks suspicious? The person slinking around with hunched shoulders and wearing a hood,” she said. “You know who doesn’t? The girl who looks just like everyone else. Your job isn’t to conceal your identity. It’s to blend into the crowd. A group of people is all the camouflage you’ll ever need.”

Of course, that wasn’t necessarily true – a fact I’d learned dozens of times over the previous six months’ worth of training. Like everything else, my abilities in [Spycraft]had jumped by leaps and bounds, even earning me a new ability called Mimic. It was still a low-grade ability, but it had plenty of potential.

Mimic (F) – Take on the superficial appearance of another person. Combat breaks the illusion.

Even though it was a relatively new ability which I’d earned only the week before, I had spent an untold number of hours exploring the possibilities. Even during my rare time off, I found myself taking on the identities of random pedestrians. It was too bad, then, that Vanna had forbidden me from using it during our frequent games, largely because she didn’t want the powerful ability to become a crutch.

Sensing someone’s eyes on me, I sped up just enough to step in front of the person next to me. Using the other pedestrian as moving cover, I searched the area for an appropriate hiding place. It wasn’t easy; we were in a residential area, with huge, square, and blocky buildings that served as tenements. They weren’t as low-class as the one in which I’d confronted Jack months before, but they were sufficiently decrepit that no one who could afford better would ever choose to make their home there.

Suddenly, I spotted an alley, and I wasted no time in using it to my advantage. When I veered off the main street, I was confronted with a familiar sight. The alley itself was narrow – maybe four or five feet across – and filled with garbage and semi-conscious dust heads. Male or female, it didn’t matter. They were all skeletally thin, covered in dirt, and bearing the splotchy red-and-purple bruises so common amongst addicts. My Triage ability told me that those marks were caused by an overabundance of Mist in a person’s bloodstream, which tended to pop the vessels, resulting in the drug’s trademark bruising.

Not that any of them cared. Pixie dust – or just dust, as it was colloquially known – gave its users a euphoric feeling, but it also rendered them insensate. Once, I might’ve judged them for it, but after seeing how hopeless some of their lives were, I didn’t really blame them for looking for an out. Sometimes, life in our world was just too much for people to handle, and it was easier to take a snort of pixie dust and spend the next day or two in a stupor than to confront the horrors of life in a post-Initialization world.

With Observation, which had increased to E-Grade, powering my senses, I saw everything. More than that, I couldn’t ignore the smells – body odor, human waste, and garbage – or sounds. Thankfully, almost as soon as I stepped into the alley, a summer rain shower began, cutting visibility and muting the smell. I ignored the thick droplets of rain as I trotted down the alley, turning the corner when I reached the back of the building. Looking this way and that, I leapt, grabbing hold of the rickety metal fire escape and pulling myself up to the platform. After that, I raced up the switchback steps, back and forth, until I reached the roof. Once I was there, I crouched down and peeked over the edge of the building.

A smile spread across my face as I saw Lonnie, the amigo I’d noticed following me. He was a short, stout man who, unlike the other amigos who’d traced their lineage back to some place called Guatemala, came from native stock. He would tell anyone who would listen about his proud heritage. Of course, I didn’t really believe much of what he said, but he was an amiable sort.

And besides, he was a wizard with the tomahawk he carried. He had briefly been one of my instructors, and he’d taught me the basics of the weapon. I’d had others, too – from clubs to knuckle dusters and everything in between, I had a passing familiarity with most weapon types. Still, I preferred a sword. Or my rifle. Maybe Ferdinand II. The scattergun was my least favorite weapon, but I suspected that was because it hadn’t really been made to do much damage. Instead, it was intended as a non-lethal alternative, which just seemed to have missed the point of weaponry, as far as I was concerned.

Still, I’d been working with it as diligently as I had been training with my other primary weapons, resulting in marked progression. Seeing Lonnie down below, perfectly vulnerable, it made me wish I could just pull out my Kicker, throw it into its sniper configuration, and put one in the back of his skull. That would end the pursuit right then and there, wouldn’t it?

Not that I wanted to kill Lonnie or anything. Not really, at least. I just wanted to win the game. Of course, violence wasn’t a part of the game, either, so half my arsenal of abilities weren’t available to me.

I pulled back – slowly, so the sudden movement wouldn’t alert him – and settled down to wait. As I did, I focused on Observation, listening for his footsteps. I was a couple of hundred feet from him, but with how the ability had progressed, hearing him shouldn’t have been difficult. Or that would have been the case if it weren’t for all the rain.

I let out a long sigh.

I was exhausted. Hiding from Vana and the amigos for two straight days had kept me constantly on edge, and it was starting to catch up to me. I’d snatched a few minutes of sleep here and there, but that was a poor substitute for real rest.

Finally, after sitting there for almost an hour, I got the message I’d been looking for:

Vanna: Okay, you win this round. Meet me at the inn.

I gave a little fist pump of celebration. It felt good. Really good. I’d gotten the same feeling when I’d cleared the gauntlet, which was Simon’s preferred method of testing me. Comprised of twenty fights of steadily ramping difficulty, it was one of the most exhausting things I’d ever attempted. For the first few weeks, it was all I could do to make it to the sixth or seventh fighter, but after that, I’d steadily improved. Day by day, I lasted a little longer until, after four months, I finally conquered it.

Of course, that small victory had only jumpstarted the next phase of my hand-to-hand training, which saw me facing different scenarios. Sometimes, I was tasked with defeating a group of fighters, but other times, I was just trying to get through them to some objective. Each day, it was something different, and it taught me the simple lesson that being able to fight was only a small part of winning an engagement. Thinking on your feet was much, much more important.

Grinning, I looked over the edge of the roof, hoping I could silently descend the fire escape and surprise Lonnie, who, last I checked, was still down below. Which was true. He was still down there. However, he was sprawled across the ground, a pool of blood mingling with the puddles of rain. His head was clearly separated from the rest of his body.

A figure, dressed all in black, stood over him, nano-sword in hand. They weren’t big, and despite the fact that their outfit was skintight, I couldn’t tell if I was looking at a man or woman. And with my senses enhanced by Observation, that was saying something. In the couple of seconds that I spent staring at them, I realized that they were using some sort of skill.

Then, they looked up at me, their face obscured by a black mask. Even their eyes were covered by a pair of green-lensed goggles.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

That only lasted for a brief second before I summoned my Kicker from my Arsenal Implant, and in the same motion, brought it to my shoulder, took aim, and squeezed the trigger, firing a single burst in the black-clad figure’s direction. The bullets tore through the air, and despite the fact that I’d spent untold hours at the range, they found nothing but the ground. Water and Lonnie’s puddled blood geysered into the air as surprise filled my mind.

“I missed…”

Well, when first you don’t succeed, fill the air with bullets. Or something like that. That’s what my rifle instructor, Jorge, kept saying. At that moment, it seemed appropriate.

One burst. Two. Three. I kept firing until my magazine ran empty, but the figure moved like lightning, their body blurring with sheer speed. They were actually dodging my shots.

Panic rising into the back of my throat, I summoned a new magazine and, after ejecting the old one, jammed it into the well. By the time I finished, the figure was three-quarters of the way up the fire escape. They weren’t going up the steps, either. Instead, they were going up the outside, hopping from one railing to the next.

I swallowed hard and made a decision. I couldn’t fight this person. They were too far above me. My only hope lay in retreat. But even if I turned tail and ran, there was no way I’d make it more than a handful of steps. Not with how fast they were moving.

Fortunately, I had something else up my sleeve.

Waiting until they were within a few short feet, I waited until they were between platforms before I activated an ability:

Initiate Misthack (trivial defenses detected)? [Yes] or [No]

I selected the first option.

Misthack Iniatiated. E-Grade Defenses Overridden.

That allowed me to instantly bypass E-Grade and lower-graded systems. Luckily, the assassin – and that’s what they clearly were – didn’t have a particularly secure system.

Misthack Successful. Options:

· Reboot System

· Overload System

· Breach

I chose to Reboot System. It all happened in the space of a fraction of a second, and when the ability hit the assassin, I heard a feminine yelp. Her body seized up, and, instead of grasping the last railing, her fingers slipped on the wet metal. She fell. Seeing my opportunity, I fired a couple of bursts at her falling body, but even though my bullets found a home in her torso, my efforts were rendered useless due to the metallic clink of my rounds hitting subdermal armor.

Her tense body hit the ground with a thud, but the moment I saw her stirring, I knew she would soon resume her chase. After all, Breach only lasted for a few seconds. After that, she would regain control of her various implants, and when she did…

I needed to leave, and yesterday. So, without further hesitation, I stowed my weapon and sprinted across the rooftop, not even slowing when I hit the edge. Instead, I leapt, clearing the space between buildings without any difficulty. I kept going for six more buildings; like most domiciles, they were all identical, and so, their roofs provided a perfect highway for someone with my constitution.

At the sixth building, I skidded to a stop before the access door, aimed a kick at the lock, and sent the door flying open. I dipped inside, and, taking three steps at a time, sprinted down the stairs. It didn’t take me long to reach the bottom, and when I did, I quickly found the lobby and left, blending into the pedestrians.

My heart beating out of my chest, I tried to remember my training. With measured steps, I followed the flow of traffic all the way to the Dewdrop Inn, and even when I got inside, I didn’t relax. I found Vana sitting at her customary table, with Simon in his usual seat across from her. I didn’t know if the two were a couple, and, contrary to my normal inquisitive attitude, at that moment, I didn’t really care.

Vana grinned at me, saying, “So, you finally did it. I’m proud of you. But next time, we’re going to double the number of hunters, and –”

“Never mind that,” I said, slamming my hand on the table. “There was a woman. Dressed all in black. She killed Lonnie. Tried to kill me, too, but I got away. I didn’t –”

Vanna’s eyes flicked past me, and she said, “You didn’t get away.”

Even as she spoke, she rose to her feet and pushed me behind her. A moment later, she had a slender sword in her hand. Seeing her alarm, Simon wasted no time before joining her, the enormous cudgel that was his favored weapon appearing in his hand. I followed their gazes to the inn’s entrance, where the woman stood. Whatever skill she’d been using to mask her appearance was gone, and I could clearly see her feminine curves. Even so, guessing her identity would be impossible, as everything was still obscured by the black outfit.

“Step aside, Infiltrator,” the woman said, her voice full of derision. “Take the thug with you. That little girl and me, we’ve got an issue between us.”

“Can’t do that, Hunter,” Vanna said, holding her weapon at the ready. “You know this town’s under his protection, don’t you?”

“I do not fear the Wraith,” the so-called Hunter said.

“You should,” was all Vanna said. “Your fancy implants won’t save you from him.”

The Hunter gave a hollow laugh. “So everyone says,” she spat. “But he’s old. Slow. He can’t be the –”

The wall of the inn exploded into splinters, and a moment later, the Hunter’s head followed suit, erupting into a cloud of fine mist, metal shrapnel, bone, and brain matter. She fell to the floor with a loud thump.

“Tried to tell her,” Vanna said.

“W-what just…what just happened…”

“Your uncle happened,” she said. “Why anyone would attack anybody in this town while he’s around, I have no idea. Some people must have a death wish.”

“Who was she?” I asked. “Why did she kill Lonnie?”

“Looking to cause trouble for Jeremiah, no doubt,” Vanna said. “But I’m proud of you. How did you get away from her?”

I told her about the short fight and how it went down. Even as I did, I heard a few more thunderous gunshots before everything went silent. A moment later, Jeremiah returned. He took one look at the dead woman and stepped over her.

“Everyone okay?” he asked.

“Your niece escaped a Hunter, Jeremiah,” Vanna said. “If that’s not me earning my pay, I don’t know what is.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his eyes boring into me. I gave him a nod, and he said, “Good. Proves that the plan’s working. Hunters are not to be trifled with.”

“Who are they?” I asked.

“Members of the Noble Hunters organization,” Simon said. “Nothin’ noble about them, either. They take sensitive jobs. Hunt criminals. Carry out assassinations. Clear out dangerous beasts. Their members are required to pass a series of tests before they’re given a place at the table.”

“There were three of them in town,” Jeremiah said. To Vanna, he added, “Thanks for tipping me off. As soon as I knew they were around, they weren’t that hard to find.”

“W-what?” I asked.

“She sent me a message,” Jeremiah explained. “The same thing you should have done the moment you got away. There may come a time when you’ve only got yourself to depend on, but you’re not there yet. You need to learn when to ask for help and when to take care of things yourself. Got it?”

“I…I got it.”

“Good,” was his response.

“How far away were you when you shot her?” I asked, something niggling at the back of my mind.

“About two-hundred yards,” he said. “So, not far.”

That’s when everything clicked for me. “On the way here, you were holding back, weren’t you?” I said. “You could have killed that big guy with the arm cannon without skipping a beat, couldn’t you have?”

“I could have.”

“Then why didn’t you? People died!” I hissed.

“People were dead before I could react,” Jeremiah stated. “They laid a good trap, and before I could save the trucks, they were gone. After that, I decided to use it as a training scenario for you. Give you a taste of what it takes to survive in this world.”

“It was a test.”

“Everything’s a test, Mirabelle,” he said. “The only question is who’s giving it to you. Is it your uncle, who cares about your well-being? Or is it the world? An enemy? Life is a test. Get used to it.”

With that, Jeremiah turned and went back to the dead woman, where he knelt and began searching her. As it turned out, she had nothing on her. However, it was clear that she had a multitude of high-quality implants, so Jeremiah took her by the waist and slung her over his shoulder. As he left the inn, he announced, “Continue your training Mirabelle. Next time, they might send someone really dangerous.”