Chapter 119 - Rebirth (Patreon)

<---Chapter 118 - Prison | Table of Contents | Chapter 120 - Hunters --->

Kyle did not know how to explain the feeling when he woke up, not without an emotive sensory transfer machine. It was as if his former body had been made of lead, and that there were countless useless cells idling in every fiber of his muscles. He had a hard time getting used to the sluggishness of Alvin's body, especially when he had a 229-C-X package in his previous life.

Now, the sensation was nothing short of a miracle, going even further beyond the genetic package he had. His senses were all heightened, as though every cell and every pore on his skin could be focused on. His eyesight was far sharper now, and he was able to see the entire vault beyond the current genetic modification chamber clearly. He could even read some of the small text on a crate twenty meters away.

As he flexed his fingers, he could feel the tendons and muscles of his forearm wrapping around the bone tightly, as firm and tense as ever, with potential strength and power lurking within every fiber of his being. He clenched his fist tight, his muscles glistening with sweat and slightly enlarged from what he had before.

The restraints were unlatched, releasing his wrists and legs and allowing him to sit upright, his entire back pockmarked with injection holes from the back of his head all the way to the bottom of his leg. Kyle's entire body felt new and refreshed, a complete overhaul, as he could feel the agility beneath his skin yearning to be tested.

He glanced at a reflection of himself in the glass walls of the chamber, his hair turning blacker with still a tinge of auburn left behind, while most blemishes from his skin and face were removed, only leaving a few tiny unnoticeable blackheads and scars from Alvin's prior acne issue. The jawbone and facial structure had been slightly adjusted as well, Kyle slowly regaining his former dazzling features from his past life. In fact, I'll say I'm even better looking now.

Even as he stepped off the table, his feet touching the cold ground of the chamber gave him chills, and his skin sensory details dialed up to 11. Every gust and breath of air could be felt intimately, his mind immediately ascertaining the direction of airflow and sources of pungent stenches, if anything.

It was at this moment Kyle noticed that the table he had laid on was completely drenched in blood, his body having lost copious amounts during the surgery. Thankfully, the chamber also replaced his blood, and over time, the 229-A-X package would enhance his blood's oxygen delivery efficiency as well as density.

[Race Obtained]: Genetic Package 229-A-X Galactic Human

A designer genetic package for the scions of A-class nobility. Increased necessity for energy in every form as well as controlled nutritional diet and genetic stabilizers.

 Stats Increment Per Level Boost: +5 CHA, +5 DEX, +5 STA, +1 MP, +5 HP, +10 INT, +5 STR.

[Skill Obtained]: Enchancment (Advanced)

Push your latent potential to the limits.

 Passive Skill Increased muscle growth and regeneration Increased bone density and structural integrity Increased reflexes and nervous reactions Increased thought process Stats Increment will improve over time with training Unique Title will be applied at each stage.

[Information]: Genetic Package 229-A-X Galactic Human

Race Upgrade Path can be swapped to other variants later.

 Race Upgrade Path can be swapped to other variants later.

[Title Obtained]: 229-A-X Enhancement Title (Unique)

On the path to becoming a god amongst men.

 Current Level: 0 Current Stat Increment Boost per Level: +0.

Kyle stretched his limbs before stepping out of the chamber, his back still soaked in dried blood. The state of the blood told him that at least more than a day had passed, and the lack of Soren's screeching also asserted his assumption. He moved up to a nearby water tank, collecting some of it and giving it a sniff to make sure it was still okay before using it to clean his back off. How long have I been knocked out anyway?

None of the panels on the chamber featured a clock anywhere, and those that did only had zeros filling up their epoch timestamp, making them completely useless to Kyle. I'll find out when I get out.

Soon, Kyle was fully dressed once more, though his shirt and pants failed to hide his chiseled body, his abs and muscles worthy to be immortalized as a statue. Deep down, Kyle was elated at having far surpassed his former life's genetic limitations, but already, the logician inside of him was tempering his excitement. If such a genetic package is obtainable just by me being a System User, what does that mean for the Wardens?

From having observed Soren's wound healing rate, he was confident that Soren too had a genetic package, though it was unclear as to whether it was the exact same as his. Definitely not an A-class package. Still, even though human A-class states constituted a mere 10% of the Galactic Era population, there were still two decillion humans among them, though they were mostly concentrated near the galactic center. That itself does not include the S-class states, which had nearly one decillion humans. If Kyle had truly been transported to the future, then that population figure must have risen tremendously.

For now, Kyle knew the 229-A-X was enough to put him leagues above the average human, and certainly more than enough to destroy anyone on Soren's level. He did not even have to use the Arcia Mystic's subclass ability during the fight, having held it as a final trump card. Now, I'm stronger than ever.

His stomach rumbled with an aching hunger that he had never felt before, reminding him of the requirements of the body. Right, if I don't eat, I'll starve faster than a regular human. Energy did not come from nowhere, and Kyle needed nutrition to keep up his peak performance. He scoured the vault for the rations that were coated in dust and soot, centuries old at this point.

Ge settled for a few nutri-paste packets, highly condensed superfood Galactic Era rations aimed for maximum calories as well as vitamins, providing every chemical necessary for the human body to keep functioning. He gulped them down, the paste having no flavors at all and laced with countless preservatives, which was the sole reason they had lasted this long. It was hardly tasty or delicious, but Kyle wasn't picky with his food. He drank from the water tank as well, sitting down for a few minutes to eat carefully and regain his strength.

With his hunger and thirst satisfied as well as the race upgrade now done, Kyle turned his attention to the pods nearby. He had inadvertently killed the inhabitant of one cryopod, and it had given him more EXP in a single kill than ever before. Should I eradicate all the pod inhabitants? It was alluring, having more than fifty pods in a row lined up here at the vault. Killing all of them would net him enough EXP to potentially reach the next upgrade.

However, Kyle saw that as a short-sighted action. The inhabitants of the pods were more useful than just EXP - they represented potential knowledge of the inner workings of the planet he was on, as well as the ruins. If he could even reawaken one of them successfully, it would be a big step in figuring out how he came to Raktor. EXP can be farmed in the dungeon. And with the war starting soon, I gather that there would be no shortage of fights for me.

He finally decided that it would be too risky to wake up the inhabitants of the pods now and decided to save it for a later date when he had the proper tools and technology to thaw them carefully. We'll need refrigeration and sealed chambers to allow the inhabitant to slowly acclimatize. It would be essentially a manual defrosting since the automatic one clearly failed.

Kyle gathered all of his equipment and gear, loading out his outfit once more before leaving the vault properly, not forgetting to lock it behind him and keeping the key safely. As he left the vault, he noticed Soren languishing on the floor, clearly famished and dehydrated, and his eyes lolled about aimlessly. Right, forgot about him.

He re-entered the vault and grabbed a few of the century-old rations, as well as a water tank, easily hauling it over with just one hand. Even when Kyle disabled the laser fence, Soren basically did not have any energy to move. With his System disabled, his genetically modified body's metabolism did not drop, only continuing to cannibalize his own stored fat from within, the bones clearly visible on his degrading taut skin. He could only stare helplessly as Kyle placed two water tanks and enough rations to last a few weeks.

"Try not to die." Kyle slapped Soren awake, making Soren finally aware that food and water were available. Instead of lunging at Kyle in an attempt to escape, he reached for the rations, greedily opening a ready-made nutri-paste packet and devouring it. Kyle reactivated the laser fence, finally leaving the prison cell proper and locking all the doors, making sure Soren couldn't get out.

As he exited the small cave and returned back to the Rotten Chamber, a few minutes of travel towards the encampment showed him that the Ghosts had left long ago, led by both Sasha and Feldon away to Desham. There did not seem to be any sign of Nest entering the chamber, and he didn't see any tracks either. The arctech lantern posts around the encampment were all still lit up, making Kyle confident that he had only been knocked out for less than three days as that was their maximum duration with the amount of arcite ore inserted.

With no idea how much time had passed, Kyle followed the map in his head, making it to the exit tunnel towards Desham, where they had opened the door. The tunnel was already well-lit by the various arctech lanterns placed by the scouts and Ghosts that he had dispatched beforehand, and all of them were still functioning well. It wasn't long before he reached the ladder that led up to the hidden hideout on the third layer, one that Kyle had established as a backup when he had first explored this tunnel. But instead of climbing up, he continued on forward, following the trail of lantern posts that went further and further into the tunnel.

Unlike before, Kyle's body was lighter and far more enduring, able to keep up a steady jog that was slowly turning into a marathon. With the lack of daylight, it was impossible for Kyle to keep track of the passage of time, though he kept an internal counter as close to sixty beats per minute as possible. He ran for what he thought was two hours, the tunnel slowly sloping upwards as it got closer and closer to the surface before finally reaching the very end of the tunnel exit, the daylight from aboveground streaming through the eroding vines and flora that covered the rocky walls.

Kyle's ears perked up, carefully listening out for any movements around while he cautiously stepped forward, out into the daylight that blinded him slightly, his eyes squinted as his vision acclimatized. While he knew Sasha must have cleared the path before him, there was always the off-chance that Nest had discovered the existence of the tunnel and laid a trap for him. [Sasha, do you read?]

No reply came back, Kyle gathering that Sasha must be out of range. Desham is still a way ahead on foot. He had the map of Versia memorized, as well as the evacuation route. Finding his way to the city was easy, but he still remained vigilant and wary.

The tunnel's exit came out in a forest much like the one that had been chopped down around Ocra, although the trees and plants were far larger than expected as if they were meant for giants. The trees towered more than twenty stories high; Kyle was not even able to see the top of the trees from its base while large ferns and mushrooms dominated the undergrowth, bushes and shrubs growing even higher than him. It was as though he was but an ant amidst the nature here. So this is the Keru Forest.

Kyle navigated using his memory of the route, recalling the instructions the scouts had given to him. It was one thing to see it from the bird's eye view but another thing to walk among the gigantic trees. He even gave pause when he saw large dark blue beetles the size of a football and trident horns one-foot long skittering across the trunk of a tree, gnawing away on the parasitic ferns and fungi that had taken root on the bark. The wind that rushed through the forest barely swayed any of the gigantic trees, their roots anchoring them like statues that were nearly impossible to topple. Some parts of the ground had large footprints that seemed to follow a migratory herd pattern of grazing, bushes, and shrubs having been chewed out completely. Broken branches crushed under the steps that created the same footprint, as well as humongous mud tracks, all showed the presence of equally gigantic animals within the Keru Forest.

Still, despite the overgrowing fauna, Kyle could clearly see some trails and marks of human presence. One of the red trees he passed had a Ghost mark on it, a simple small knife slash near its base to indicate a trail point. Confident he was on the right track, Kyle continued on, though his irritation at the larger shrubs and thorny flowers hooking onto his shirt and pants began to climb quickly.

It took another hour of trekking before he finally reached something close to civilization, though it was just a simple path that ran alongside the outskirts of the Keru forest, its surface hardened mud. Kyle moved along the path, walking for yet another hour along the winding path before it finally diverted off into rolling fields of grass and flowers as well as large acres of farmland, joining into a major gravel path road that connected Ocra and Desham.

To his surprise, the major road itself was already packed, countless convoys and shambling feet dominating the grassy plains and farms on both sides. None of the farms along the major road had any crops growing, all of them seemingly harvested as hundreds upon hundreds of refugees limped and marched, many barefoot on the scorching surface with faces devoid of emotion. Children crying and mothers weeping filled the air, the procession a throng of depression that seemingly had no end. Families carried prized possessions, while the more well-to-do ones were shoving refugees aside, forcing the others out of the way to allow their arctech wagons through.

Kyle blended it easily, his outfit already disheveled from trekking in the Keru Forest. However, he walked a bit faster, overtaking a few refugees and moving quicker than the crowd. Soon, Desham came into view on the horizon, though its walls and fortifications were far less impressive compared to that of Tenar and Ocra.

Reaching the outskirts of Desham, the slums of the refugee camps were already visible, billowing clouds of black smoke from burning wood drifting into the air like a plague across the once-green farmland. The refugee camps here were far larger than they had been at Ocra, many having chosen to come here instead of risking their lives and safety near the border of a potential conflict. However, unlike the stern military control of Ocra, there did not seem to be anyone controlling nor admitting refugees into the camp itself, the security has devolved into a free-for-all. No fences, no distribution center, and no administration seemed to be in place for the refugees.

"Don't you dare sign up for the Versian Army, you hear me! You're going to stay right here!" A mother berated her young son as they squabbled outside a slum shelter, Kyle overhearing the conversation. Both of them were clearly fatigued and starving, their cheeks gaunt and their skin taut, though it was the norm around these parts.

The son shrugged his mother's arm off his shoulders, complaining. "But we have nothing to eat! The rations are dwindling, and if I join up as a recruit, I can bring you along to Ocra to stay at the military quar-"

"We are not going back to Ocra! Not when there's war on the horizon! It would be far better if you just worked for Harrison Industries here!" The mother shouted back. Kyle didn't listen to the rest of the argument, only watching as a convoy of wagons filled to the brim with refugees who had signed on being carted off towards Ocra, joining up as recruits.

So there seems to be a rationing issue here as well, as well as at Harrison Industries. Interesting... Kyle glanced around the vicinity of Desham, noticing that it was mostly farmland, though all of the crops were gone. His keen eyesight spotted some of the refugees still digging through the soil of the empty farmlands, hoping to find something to eat, be it insect or seed. Many dying refugees lay along the haphazard streets of the sprawling slums, some trying to mix flour with sewage water before eating it whole, suffering from dysentery that was spreading like wildfire.

All of this suffering made the outskirts of Desham depressing and a terrible sight. Anyone who had a heart would have seen it and wept. Instead, a sinister smile was already growing on Kyle's face, even as refugees around his path writhed and begged others for help. I was right to set this as the evacuation point. This is the perfect staging ground for a rebel movement.

Near the formal entrance to Desham was a simple gate, the walls of the city not as tall as that of Tenar and Ocra but sturdy enough to hold back the tide of refugees that were clamoring to enter. Guards forcibly shoved back starving refugees from climbing the makeshift palisades and barricades that served as a forward defense layer before the metal-grilled gate itself.

A mother carrying a crying baby squeezed her way to the front of the jostling crowd, pleading with the guards. "Please, sir, the rations being given are not enough! I need one more for my baby!"

"Rules are rules! One sack of potatoes per family!" One of the guards was unsympathetic, barely giving her a cursory glance.

"Sir, please, I have six kids and two parents to feed! One sack is far from enough to last us the day!" The mother stepped forward, trying to get past the barricade, but a guard wielded his rifle, jabbing her in the forehead with the butt.

"Get back in line, bitch, or I'll shoot you - and that goes for the rest of you! If you're here to sign up as a recruit or a worker for the factories, queue up. Otherwise, wait until dawn tomorrow for your damn rations!"

One of the other refugees helped the mother up, shouting back at the violent guard: "Hey! We're Versians too! We deserve the right to be fed! And the damn water supply in the camp is brok-"

Instead of replying, the guard simply raised his rifle, aiming straight for the man and firing instantly. The pellet caused the man's brain to splatter onto the stunned crowd of refugees, his mouth still moving while his eyes were locked in confusion as his body toppled over, resting on screaming and shrieking children who began to scatter.

"I warned you all! This is Desham, not whatever fucking backwater village or town you came from. And if you came from Ocra, feel free to walk back! If you want to stay here, then GET THE FUCK IN LINE, NOW!" The guard roared, the refugees all immediately backing off, the shock and screams spreading through the crowd as the bulk of them began to scamper.

Kyle himself, too, kept himself out of sight, observing the guards and the resulting chaos at a distance. He peered past the gate itself, noticing that the inside streets were well-cleaned and devoid of any homeless stragglers and whatnot. He didn't plan on entering the city yet, knowing that his rendezvous point was in the refugee camp itself.

Walking quickly through the maze of alleyways and small gaps between wooden shelters and makeshift tents of sewn-together clothes, he walked up to something equivalent to a small little store, a few other refugees already gathering around while holding valuables and family treasures, preparing to trade them for rations. "Ma'am, please, I need three sacks for my mother! I only have this necklace." A famished youth barely sixteen years old offered up to the counter, placing a rare golden necklace adorned with emeralds.

"Three sacks? This necklace is only worth two sacks." The lady behind the counter rasped her fingers against the shaky wooden counter, her tanned skin barely visible under the scorching glare of daylight as she sat comfortably under the shelter of the store, wearing a purple satin dress that showed a wealth much unlike the other refugees around.

"Ma'am, this necklace is priceless! It's my family heirloom, and the emeralds are -"

"Are lifted from other refugees. Don't try to play punk with me, Jaden. This isn't your necklace. Your family isn't here."

"Well, my family is all of Versia." Jaden grinned. "Doesn't matter if I'm an orphan or not! And you're going to buy it anyway."

"Two sacks." The lady didn't budge. "Otherwise move, you're holding up the line."

"Three sacks!"

"Two sacks."

"Three sacks!"

"Next." The lady yawned, motioning with her fingers for Jaden to move away.

"Grrr... Fine!" Jaden snatched the necklace away from the counter, grumbling as he walked away. The lady smiled as she watched the angry Jaden storm off, before her eyes laid on Kyle watching her from the end of the line. She examined his outfit from head to toe, realization dawning on her as Kyle skipped the queue, angering the other refugees.

"Hey man, what gives?! I was here-" The queuing refugee's words were caught in his throat the moment Kyle glared at him, a domineering aura falling upon him and almost causing his knees to buckle. The gaze forced him to immediately shrink back into his place and allow Kyle to step forward to the counter.

"Huh, Sasha didn't give any warning you would be this handsome." The lady complimented with a suave, alluring voice.

"Cut the small talk." Kyle snapped, unwilling to waste time flirting.

"Straight to business then. Jaden!" The lady called out to the youth, who turned around confusedly. "Two sacks if you man the storefront for me."

"Right away, Miss Diya!" Jaden gave a curt salute, rushing back and taking her spot while she stepped out behind the counter.

However, before Diya left, she turned around sharply, pointing a finger menacingly at him. "Steal anything and you're going to lose the sack between your legs."

"That would be great, Miss Diya - I mean, yes I won't lose it - I mean, I won't steal anything!" Jaden fumbled his words, but Diya and Kyle were already walking off.

Kyle internally judged Diya's disposition as they walked through the slum. She has the right makings to be a proper gang leader. Though she does look a little weak.

"Are you judging me right now?" Diya smiled, her beauty dazzling through her braided hair and purple satin dress that flowed like water. "What do you think?"

"I think you should stop talking and lead me to the hideout. There's work to be done." Kyle stated clearly.

"Work to be done? What is there to be done?" Diya laughed as she showed off a few pieces of jewelry that adorned her tanned forearm, the metal glinting under the daylight with a radiance. "I'm doing quite well for myself here. And we're generating enough money to fund the operations of the Ghosts. Culo chose me for my practicality, and I think I'm doing a great job. If it weren't for me, your Ghosts would be starving right now. Either that or picking a fight with the guards."

"A short-sighted view. Expected for a frog in a well." Kyle replied stoically, not bothering to engage the outraged Diya as they approached an unmarked shelter, a Ghost disguised as a refugee already outside keeping guard. The moment the Ghost saw Kyle, he immediately bowed and led the way into the shelter.

Inside the shelter was a small abandoned space, with nothing but a few stained rugs littered across the floor. The ghost shifted one of the rugs, revealing a trap door. The trap door creaked open, a ladder leading downwards. Kyle hopped in quickly, sliding down the railings and landing at the bottom with a thud.

The hideout was far smaller than the ones in the catacombs, this one clearly being a simple natural cave. Kyle noticed that there were workers already excavating and placing support beams, trying to widen the living space while temporary beds were made out of empty crates and thin fabrics.

[Sir!] Sasha shot up from her bed and walked over quickly, examining Kyle's body for injuries. [Did you kill the transcendent?]

[Not yet. I have him trapped in a cell. Once all this is over, I'll drag him back to the Culdao Peaks for research.]

Sasha nodded, though there were still a lot of questions in her mind. Kyle noticed it, recalling that Sasha had been privy to most of the words Soren had said out loud during the battle. Sasha's curiosity was made even more pressing when it was clear that Kyle's appearance had changed slightly, the hair color and features all becoming far more attractive.

"Hey, Sasha, who is the new guy?" An oblivious Feldon munched on a boiled potato, chewing with his mouth open as he walked up with a confident swagger. "A new recruit, huh? Did Diya bring you in? Name's Feldon, I'm kind of the one in charge here. But damn, look at your biceps, was there a hidden gym in this refugee camp or what? And your outfit kind of looks familiar." Feldon used one hand to pat the muscular arms of Kyle, before his gaze finally met that of Kyle's, recognition finally kicking into his brain. "A-a-a-a I-I-I" Feldon stuttered rapidly as he backpedaled frantically.

"Glad to see you're 'kind of' in charge. Now stop joking around and focus." Kyle rolled his eyes. "Give me a rundown. How many left?"

Feldon shook himself out of his surprised stupor, his stern demeanor returning. "Yes sir. Twelve Ghosts left and twenty workers. We got hit hard by that strange man filled with metal, and we lost another few to injuries on the way here - health potions weren't enough for them. Still, we're merging with the local cell group under Diya. That gives us a total of twenty Ghosts."

Kyle internally winced when he heard the numbers. He had started off with thirty Ghosts, now having dwindled to a mere dozen of the original. The workers had also been cut in half, dropping from fifty to twenty. Merging with Ghosts under Diya's command helped to bolster the forces a little, but it was a far cry from the two-hundred-strong rebel force he had in Tenar.

Despite the loss of manpower, he could see that their morale and spirits were still high. When some of them spotted Kyle arriving, word of his survival and apparent victory against the transcendent was spreading like wildfire, permanently enshrining him as a hero to the cause. None of the remaining Ghosts had any doubts in his capabilities any longer, knowing Kyle had what it takes.

The only ones who didn't share the same sentiment were Diya and the Ghosts under her. She had been previously nominated as the local Ghost leader for Desham but has naturally been replaced by the arrival of Feldon and Sasha. Her infuriated expression clearly showed to Kyle that the merger was not as efficient as Feldon had put it, and he gathered that his arrival was also not to her liking.

Still, Kyle had no time to worry about the emotions of Diya, continuing to ask questions. "Supplies?"

"Barely enough potions, and one working arcia etcher. We don't have enough Aspis MK1 armor to gear the local Ghosts, and food is a problem. Even though Diya is helping us source it through black market trading in the refugee camps, there just isn't a stable source of food around the region."

"I noticed all the farmlands were not growing anything."

"This, I can explain." Diya intervened, wanting to prove her usefulness. "The middle-class and richer factory owners in Desham want to monetize the desperation of the refugees. They harvested all the grain and crops in the last month and stored it in a grain storage deep in the walled section of the city next to the garrison. This way, they can use it as leverage to get workers for the factories and their business easily."

"The factories are run by Harrison Industries?" Kyle queried.

"Not all of them, but the majority of them are. Right now, they are producing ration packs to be shipped off to Ocra, which makes it all the more ironic that people are starving right here."

"That makes it easier for us. With the dissatisfaction of the people in the play, it would be far easier than it was in Tenar to gather support, resources, and manpower. Diya, you are to immediately stop selling food to the other refugees. Food shall only be provided within the Ghosts itself until further notice."

Diya squinted her eyes in suspicion, her frustration at Kyle finally reaching a breaking point. "You're asking me to cancel my only current business. The way I even get the rations for you all is by bribing the guards with the jewelry and valuables I earned! If I stop right now, all of you might as well starve to death! I'm starting to think that you brainwashed the Ghosts or something - there's no way you're even capable as a lead-"

Before she could finish, she found her face grabbed tightly by Kyle's iron grip, the grip lifting her off the ground as her legs tried to kick against Kyle, though her own satin dress restricted the range of her movements. The Ghosts under Diya all shot up instantly, ready to fight at a moment's notice, but Kyle's Ghosts themselves also got up, the tension between the two sides building up.

"Look at you. Defenseless. Weak. Pitiful. Wearing a dress that prevents you from fighting back. Putting on jewelry and flaunting wealth meaninglessly. Do you feel better that you're richer than the refugees? Is that the limit of your worldview? Is that how your Ghosts think, too? If so, I'm starting to consider you as a liability. I could crush your face and skull in a single instant right this very instant."

Diya didn't believe that Kyle would do it, but she suddenly felt his fingers clenching even tighter around her face, squeezing her jawbone and temples until a creaking cracking sound could be heard along her gum. "St-stop! Stop!" Diya pleaded, squeezing the words out through a muffled mouth before Kyle let go, dropping her unceremoniously onto the floor.

"You have the skills but not the vision to see. You are free to question my orders, but defy them, and you will find out what it is like to cross me. But if you prove your loyalty, I will have you see heights beyond your well. The same goes for your men. From now on, I'm in charge. Understood?" Kyle turned around and headed to the arcia etcher workshop that had already been set up, intending on crafting more explosive rounds for the two railgun snipers.

Diya gasped for air as she lay on the floor, her satin dress already stained by the dirty ground. She struggled to get up, though she still had doubts about Kyle's plan. "I will close down my business, but how are we to get food? We will have nothing to bribe the guards with, and every farmland around is devoid of produce! Where are you going to get the food?"

Kyle didn't turn around, preparing to craft the explosive rounds. "Sasha, Feldon, gear up with two other Ghosts. We're going hunting in the Keru Forest."

<---Chapter 118 - Prison | Table of Contents | Chapter 120 - Hunters --->