[Grave Robber] Chapter 56 (Patreon)

Chapter 56

"You manipulated me," Oliver said flatly. He continued to stare at the scattered chunks of meat strewn across the parking lot. "You started that fire as a means to force me into relying on you."

"It... was a consequence of a battle between the [Flesh Weaver] and myself. Not a direct bid for your attention. I, simply, took advantage of the situation. It would have been foolish not to, upon your timely arrival out of your skill."

"You manipulated me," Oliver repeated

"I helped nudge you in a direction that benefitted both of us," Ben amended. "And, I did offer to let you leave once we touched down outside your town. I did not coerce you into joining forces with me."

"Leave and go where?" Oliver asked, an anger sparking in his chest. "Back to the town you left in ashes? Into the wilderness full of zombies and vampires? Oh, I suppose I should have just strolled up to the Vampire Lord and asked to stay on his couch until I could get back on my feet!"

"There were other biomes—"

"That I knew nothing about! If left alone after the merge, I certainly would have wandered over to them eventually. But, as it was, I was utterly at your mercy. No time for planning, scouting, or preparing. Just zipped off by [Technomancer] and his handy drones! You forced me into a scenario where I was completely reliant on you."

"Your town's destruction helped level me up to where I've been better capable of keeping you safe," Ben said.

That was the wrong argument to go with. Oliver's eyes narrowed. Over the years, he'd occasionally killed before out of convenience and he knew the citizens of Ventri weren't quite the same as himself. They were like characters in a video game who talked in circles. Even still, Oliver had never slaughtered them simply for levels. But Ben, who understood what these tortured people were far better than Oliver had, acted like they were little more than stepping stones for his power.

That settled it for Oliver. It was time to leave before he, too, became another stepping stone for the [Technomancer]'s ambitions.

Ben continued to try to make excuses for withholding that information. Kiki, however, remained weirdly silent throughout the exchange. Her posture was rigid as Ben's welding drone spoke from her shoulder.

"Listen." Ben lifted one of the drone’s spider-like arms and waved it pacifyingly. "I understand why you're upset. I saw this as a net positive for all parties. Let us just continue on with the mission. We're so close to freedom! Another server and—"

Oliver scoffed. "Fuck that."

He revved his bike's engine and wheeled it around so his back was to the drone. Then he roared off down the streets of suburbia.

Twice, Ben's airborne drones attempted to intercept him and 'talk sense' into him. Oliver ignored them and continued his journey through the empty neighborhood. Eventually, they gave up on their fruitless mission to reconcile with him.

His mind remained active as he passed through the endless labyrinth of identical homes and caul-de-sacs. Perhaps he was over reacting to James's revelation. But if Ben was fine omitting vital information once, then Oliver had no idea what else the [Technomancer] had deemed it safer to withhold from him.

Eventually, Oliver found himself pulling up to the neighborhood's community center. He had no idea how he'd found his way to that point. Even held at gun point, he'd never be capable of reciting the path he took to get to the building.

The exterior of the community center was painted a bit like a barn, with bright red colors trimmed with white. On the left, was a playground for children. On the right, a basketball hoop and tennis court.

"So, this is where they all ran and hid when James showed up in town," Oliver muttered to himself, recalling the journal entries.

The smart thing to do would be turn around and not bother with this place. It clearly was some sort of focal point to the entire biome’s background story. At the moment though, Oliver decided he could use the distraction. An investigation into some cult might be a stupid risk, but it at least would keep him busy. Plus, the potential for loot was high. He recalled he still had a quest to complete. Apparently, listening to James’s rambling hadn’t counted as completion.

He dismounted his bike, then, after a moment of consideration, activated Summon Sanctuary to store it. The skill took a few minutes, but nothing disturbed him. Once the coffin materialized out of a plume of black smoke, he took a moment to organize the contents within.

He switched on some spare clothing and laced up a pair of boots over his feet. He used a flask of water and a rag to wipe the blood and grit from his face. Lifting a hand mirror, Oliver examined himself.

Black locks of hair caressed his pale skin and his hard eyes stared back at him. He straightened his hat as he stared at his sallow figure. Strangely, as he met his own gaze, Oliver saw a bit of his mother staring back at him. A profound melancholy clutched at his heart.

He tossed the mirror back into the coffin and then got to work with his main purpose.

Storing his bike was a risk. If Oliver needed to escape quickly, he wouldn't have his vehicle on hand until after he completed the summoning again. On the other hand, it also kept the bike in a secure location completely protected from outside tampering while Oliver explored the inside of the building. An escape vehicle wasn't much use if James's minions tore apart the gas tank.

The bike barely fit inside his coffin. Even with its oversized dimensions, it snuggly settled into the space where he normally slept. He double and triple checked to make certain there were no oil leaks or anything that would stain his sleeping area. Then, just to be safe, he snatched up some old rags that had once been clothing and stuffed them under the motorcycle. He probably should have done that to begin with. Oh well.

Once finished, he stepped back and admired his bike one last time. Then he dispelled his skill. His macabre sanctuary left in the same plumes of black smoke it had arrived in. A moment later, he stood alone in the parking lot. Gone was the thrum of the motorcycle engine. Just him and the biome’s silence.

Oliver popped his neck to one side, then the other. Then he hefted his shovel over a shoulder and strode into the community center.

The front door swung open with his kick. He wasn't too surprised to find it unlocked, as the journal had noted it as a location people in the biome were retreating to. It needed to be accessible to any stragglers. Where they'd disappeared to after their arrival, though, remained a mystery. Even James, no matter how many levels he'd accrued, would struggle to control an entire biome's worth of people. Especially a biome this densely populated.

Likewise, Oliver had yet to spot any bodies. No blood or even a sign of a fight. The inside of the community center was mundane. He stopped to examine a row of paper mache animals that lined a shelf. They ranged from masterful art pieces with intricate facial details, to multicolored blobs of paper and glue. They were placed next to one another, as if equals in quality.

"Not everything needs to be ranked," Oliver muttered to himself, as he stared into the lopsided eyes of a paper creature that vaguely resembled the colors of a red panda or a fat fox. "I bet the kid who made this had just as much fun as the pro artist."

A harsh reminder of the experiment leaderboards. Oliver didn't expect much change on the next update. Someone might have died, but it wouldn't be anyone he knew or cared about. The only thing that mattered was whether or not James moved up and if Ben moved off.

He continued to stroll through the community center halls. He passed a pottery room, complete with a kiln; a martial arts station, with rows of medals and trophies on the walls; and even a large kitchen, which he suspected was used for culinary lessons and bake-off competitions.

"Where would a secret cult hide the entrance into their lair?" Oliver mused as he wandered into the building's wide central hall.

He stopped and stared down at the mosaic floor. The stones formed into a large fox chasing its own tail. All of the building's halls seemed to converge at this location. He tapped a foot on the floor and noted that sound itself seemed dampened here. There was an innate pull on his senses. Something was off about this room.

Oliver knew this was it. This central hall held the secrets to the Suburbia Biome’s cult. All that remained, was breaking his way through to discover the treasure hidden underneath.