Tycoon May: Chapter 9 (Patreon)

Chapter 9

Grant sat up from the padded bench, his body stiff and sore from the events of the past day.  He was confused about where he was at first, until last night came rushing back all at once.

<Not the best situation to find yourself, but not the worst.>  Grant nodded in silent agreement with Sarge, who kept talking as Grant got his armor strapped back on.  <At least you are getting out of the city.  Maybe you can find a way to sneak off and make it back to the border without anyone noticing.>

“That’s exactly what I want to do.”  Grant had followed the guards to some kind of headquarters building, where the commander of the night shift declared he would be added to a collection team leaving in the morning as punishment for not having a place to stay.  “At least I got a good night’s sleep.”

After his sentencing, Grant had been led to a cell and given a small meal.  They were nice enough to not lock the door, considering how cooperative he had been so far.  “District May is definitely an odd place.”  He peeked out the window covered in iron bars to see a crowded courtyard, where two buckboard wagons were already staged to leave.  A group of people were standing around a cart near the gate, waiting for something.  “Is it just me, or is everyone here in really good shape?”

<What do you mean?  Like, in District February, where everyone worked out all the time without rest like a crazy person?>  Sarge chuckled, obviously remembering the events of the past.  <You used to complain so much back then.  Ah, I miss making you sweat like that.>

“No, not like District February.  These people look like they are all ready to fight, not run a marathon.”  As Grant watched, a guard approached the group and started handing out spears sitting in the cart to the people waiting.  They each stepped away quickly to practice swinging them around, testing their balance and feel.

<Those are Vassal weapons.  All of them.>  Grant’s eyes widened at Sarge’s comment.  <They aren’t choosing the best fighters, or people with noble intentions.  Whoever the Wielder is, they are just handing them out to the first person willing to risk their life for imaginary contribution points!>  Grant swore he could feel his Uchigatana vibrate in its sheath as Sarge raged.  <Nobles have perverted a system meant to help the people, into a way to exploit them!  Grant, we need to track them down and punish those responsible.  It’s disgusting!>

Finally, it all came together in Grant’s mind like a blacksmith’s puzzle snapping into place.  “Mercenaries.  They have turned the entire district into a bunch of mercenaries, focused only on themselves and their own advancement, while those in charge decide how much to pay.”

<That explains why the old woman was the only person willing to help you for nothing beyond House affiliation.  I bet she remembers the time before, when Wielders and their Vassals worked together to protect the citizens, instead of using them as fodder for profit.>  Grant could feel the insane level of anger the sword spirit was emitting through their connection.  <It’s even worse than District March.  At least there, games of chance gave the people an opportunity to win.  Here, they have nothing.>

“I’ll change things when I take charge.”  Grant saw the group start to congregate around the wagons, and left his cell to join them.  “People like Doug would make a proper Vassal, but everyone else that was slaughtered in the gate tunnel wasn’t prepared at all.  We can easily change things to work for the people, instead of against them.”

<Good.  Let’s get out there then, and put an end to this charade.>  Grant nodded silently in agreement, and moved through the maze of greenery for the exit.

Even the guard headquarters was filled with racks of growing plants, and a fine mist that drizzled from pipes in the ceiling made the whole place humid and uncomfortable.  There weren’t many people Grant saw throughout the building, but those that he did see looked more like gardeners than guards.

After finding his way into the courtyard, Grant went to speak with the man that seemed to be in charge of the wagons.  He cast a critical eye on the condition of the wooden vehicles, his time in District April giving him enough experience to see they were both barely holding together.

“I take it you are the bum that got picked up last night?”  The leader of the expedition was a balding and portly fellow, who Grant instantly disliked.  Probably because of his smell, which was like rotten corn chips covered in spoiled gravy.  Grant was really not liking his new ability that enhanced his sense of smell.  “About time you got here.  We’re about to head out.”  He pointed to the front of the group of people waiting to leave.  “You stay in the lead, where we can keep an eye on you.  All you homeless types like to run off before we even make it outside the city.  Not today, squirrely man.  Not today!”  He stuck his finger in Grant’s face as he talked, making it hard for Grant to hold in his temper.

<Just so you know, I’m perfectly fine with you maiming him.  Cut off that booger-picker, and I bet he’ll think twice about bothering you again.>  Grant had to hold in a snort of laughter as he walked to his place in line.  <Well, no easy way to sneak away now.  We’ll have to keep our eyes open for a chance to break away from the group.>

“Have patience.  We’ll be fine.”  Grant had been speaking to Sarge, but a man barely old enough to grow facial hair thought Grant was talking to him instead.

“You shouldn’t be so sure.”  Grant turned to look at the young man, who was sweating like he was standing under the pipes spraying water inside a greenhouse.  “The last Collectors that went south never came back.  People say they were all eaten by Giant Dung Beetles!”

“If they were all eaten, how do we know how they died?”  A woman covered with scars that criss crossed her arms stepped between the two young men.  “That’s just a story they tell to scare the new guys.”

“Then what happened to the nice collection wagons, huh?”  The nervous young man pointed at the pair of wagons in front of them.  “Those aren’t even painted to blend in with the forests.  That means they are old, from the last Wielder in charge of the city.”

“Oh, sweet Summer child, that’s because this is the lowest of the low.  The Collectors that are unlucky, out of favor, or so new they don’t know their arse from a hole in the ground.  Like you.”  She winked at Grant, surprising him.  “I have a feeling we’ll be fine though.  This one looks like he knows how to use his sword.”

“The homeless guy?”  The man who had told Grant where to stand laughed.  “You aren’t wrong about this being the worst of the lot!  Putting your hopes on a bum with no contribution points to his name!  Ha!”  He walked to the front gate to open it, chuckling to himself the whole way.

<I told you it was a good idea to cut off his finger.>

The group, now even more concerned, fell silent as the wagons started their way out of the courtyard and onto the city streets.  By now, the sun was well over the horizon, and the city was once again crowded with the people rushing about, doing whatever they could to get more contribution points.

Yesterday, when Grant didn’t understand what was going on, the city seemed filled with energy.  People living busy lives, focused on their tasks, and hurrying to get ahead in life.  Now, Grant quickly picked up on the frantic nervousness that shadowed every step.  Everyone in the city was an individual island of concern, only worried about themselves even when living in a city surrounded by monsters.  The energy that suffused the area didn’t feel very invigorating anymore, and the loud cacophony of the streets had an air of desperation that made Grant’s skin crawl.

“Good luck.”  The guard standing at the gate saluted the leader of Grant’s little caravan, and they moved silently out of the city.  With the way everyone was acting as they exited the gate tunnel, Grant felt like he was escorting funeral wagons instead of going to collect necessary supplies for the city.

<That’s because this sorry group is destined to end up needing funerals.  They don’t have a single flanker out.  It’s like they are begging to be ambushed!>  Grant looked around, realizing that Sarge was right.  There wasn’t any way to get an early warning if a bunch of monsters decided to attack.

Grant nudged the sweaty young man walking next to him.  “Hey, you watch to the left, and I’ll watch to the right.  Just in case something out there wants to attack us.”  He nodded nervously, and gave Grant a tremulous smile before looking over to his side.

<How much you want to bet that he freaks out and runs at the first sign of a monster?>  Instead of answering, Grant focused on his own side.  It was pretty obvious he wouldn’t be able to get away from the group while they were traveling toward whatever objective the wagons were taking them toward.

The open fields surrounding the city quickly turned into forested hills, where the small group was plunged into the deep shadows cast by the tall trees abutting the narrow road.  Keeping watch became a problem, especially with visibility in some areas cut to only a few paces.  Grant was still doing his best, when something heavy thumped into the back of the wagon in front of him.  It seemed to be a signal, as the forest came alive with the ear-splitting screams of hundreds of creatures.

“Look up!  Dangling Drop Apes!”  Someone from farther back in the group shouted, before the group was inundated with insane primates.

No stranger to ambushes at this point, Grant immediately sprang to the side and chopped an ape out of the air before it could crush the nervous young man standing next to him.  His sword did almost no damage, only managing to slash an inch into the hide of the heavily muscled monster.  The impact was still enough to knock it off course, and Grant immediately had to shift his attention to the Drop Ape that was about to crush the skull of the wagon driver in front of him.  He knew the wagon driver wasn’t one of his friends from District April, but his instincts screamed for him to help the man anyway.

“Oleander Thrust!”  Grant aimed his ability to take him upward at an angle, and he cleared the lip of the wagon with ease.  His Uchigatana sank into the shoulder of the upraised arm ready to kill the cowering wagoneer, and Grant levered the Drop Ape out of the back of the wagon and onto the ground with a heave.  He then turned to shout orders to the people fighting on the ground.  “Everyone into the wagons!  We need to clear the ambush!”

While no one answered Grant’s order, the people wielding Vassal weapons started trying to angle themselves for his position.  Before the first person could reach the wagon bed, Grant felt it jerk beneath him.  He spun around to see the wagon driver trying to steer his horses around the lead wagon so they could run.  The front wagon was being assaulted by a trio of Dangling Drop Apes, and Grant was pleased to see the wagon driver there wasn’t afraid to fight back.  He wasn’t so happy with his own wagon driver.

“If you try to leave before everyone is on the wagon, I’ll cut off your hands.”  Grant slapped the flat of his blade along the knuckles of the wagon driver to prove his point.  The scared man shook his head to show he understood, and stopped urging the horses pulling the wagons.  “I’m going to go help clear the way, but my promise still holds.  You don’t leave until everyone is on the back of this wagon.  Got it?”

Not waiting for a reply, Grant jumped down and rushed over to help the front wagon.  He arrived just in time to see a Drop Ape rip the spear the wagon driver was using from his seat out of his hands.  Before the monster could turn the weapon on its owner — or the other apes could pull the driver down — Grant activated his lightning spell.

“Thundering Step!”  Grant’s shout seemed to shake the world as lightning erupted around him.  He did his best to control the arcs so they were limited to the Dangling Drop Apes, but the driver and horses still got a mild shock.  The wagon jolted forward, knocking the driver back into the bed as the front edge smacked the monsters hard.  Grant wasn’t able to stop the horses from starting to shamble away, considering the three Drop Apes had just gained two more friends he had to deal with.  And neither of them were still jittery from getting struck by lightning.

Two guards sprinted right past Grant to hop in the back of the moving wagon as he was instantly on the defensive, using the edge of his blade to knock away the frenzied attacks of the heavily muscled and hairy creatures hungry for his blood.

<Apes are usually herbivores, so they probably won’t eat you.  Just rip you limb from limb as punishment for entering their territory.>

“Thanks Sarge.”  Grant used his elbow to smash away the face of an ape that was trying to rip his throat out.  “That’s what I really need to hear right now!”

<I’m here to help.  It’s always good to understand the motivations of your enemies.  That’s how you develop effective plans of attack.>

Grant used Peach Flower Petal Flurry to keep the apes from landing any blows, but it was quickly obvious that they were at a stalemate.  As soon as the three Drop Apes he had shocked were recovered enough to fight, things would quickly turn for the worse.

Before things devolved to that point, the scarred woman came to Grant’s rescue.  She came sprinting past, spearing the ape on his left through the gut and pinning it to the ground.  Grant decided to use her distraction and slapped the flat of his blade against the ribs of the ape standing in front of him.  The blow was strong enough to give him some breathing room,  so Grant slipped between his attackers and finished putting down the three Apes that hadn't recovered from his spell with a hard slash to their throats.  It was necessary for him to use Begonia Chop to get through their thick hide, but the extra penetration it gave his sword was enough to do the job.

“Get out of here!”  The scarred woman yanked her spear free and pointed to the wagon still waiting for everyone to get on board.  “We can still break free if you hurry!"

"Why are you still standing here?  Run!"  Grant was unwilling to accept the woman's help,  instead of shoving her back towards the wagon and positioning himself to fight the final monster still standing. "Tell the wagon driver I'll jump on as you go by.  Don’t worry, I’ve got this!”

Grant positioned himself to stop the remaining Ape from following the scarred woman. The two of them squared off, screams of the wounded and dying echoing through the trees around them.

This Ape seemed different.  It was far larger than the others, which was why Grant had used the flat of his blade to knock it to the side instead of trying to cut through its thick skin. It had growled in rage after seeing Grant kill the others, and now the two of them looked at each other with death in their eyes.

“Well come on then, you stupid Beast!  Let's see what you're made of!”  Grant activated Hemlock's Bane, the skill that allowed him to parry with perfect precision.   The ten percent boost in damage it gave him on his next attack was enough to slash the wrist of the giant ape as it tried to backhand him. The creature growled in anger once again, giving Grant time to activate Oleander Thrust. The ten percent increase in armor penetration and speed allowed him to surprise the beast, and he pierced it through the chest before backing away with a flourish. He couldn’t capitalize on his victory, as the wagon—and his only escape—started rumbling past. Grant turned and jumped on board, the scared young man from earlier helping to sturdy him as he landed.

Behind them, a horde of apes covered the trail, cutting off all chances of escape. Their only hope was moving forward, into the unknown countryside, which Grant knew only held more chances for death to finally find a way to claim them.