Trash: Chapter 102 A Future Plan (Patreon)

Chapter 102

A Future Plan

I’ve realized something today. This is something that I have been noticing for a while but watching Mr. Karl and his new reaction towards seeing me, I have realized a hidden truth of the world.

That hidden truth: that you can tell how much one person truly loves another, based on the hidden sacrifices and joys they silently suffer, and the amount of joy they feel once their loved one is healed.

Sounds simple, effectively two people that are emotionally connected to each other would have a symbiotic relationship on the health of either party. Thus, if one party had a lingering injury, the other would subsequently feel an empathic pain for their partner. Similarly, if that wound was healed, the non-healed party would be subsequently thankful to the savior based on how much they loved their healed partner.

All of this was to say that when I saw Mr. Karl, the giant musclebound warrior of a man whose sheer size and stature caused most kids to flinch in fright of his frame alone, he was extra excited to see me.

“You DEGENERATE!” Mr. Karl’s booming voice echoed through the hallway, causing everyone to pause and stare at the size and force coming from Mr. Karl. Almost as if he had used a Taunting Skill to draw in everyone’s attention. He hadn’t, that was just his personality coming into play, but the change in atmosphere was undeniable. Then everyone watched in horror as Mr. Karl charged forward, his full strength and speed on display as he charged from his classroom’s doorway straight to me, like a charging Santa.

His movements so fast that to many he might have looked like a blur, while my senses were higher, meaning I could make out his movements, I was unable to react in time to his charging advance. In fact, I barely had time to exhale, a needed gesture as I quickly found myself gripped in an iron like grab and lifted off the ground. At which point, I felt a strong vice like grip squeeze tight around me, which would have forcefully ejected all the air from my lungs before putting me down where I started, all in less than a second.

“How are you this fine morning?” Mr. Karl asks with far too much enthusiasm given how the school is basically on lockdown.

“Pretty good,” I begin, then let my voice trail off for a second while I give a quick scan of the filled hallways, “though I might need you to look into something for me.”

Hearing my sudden shift in tone and perhaps seeing something in my posture, Mr. Karl’s demeanor instantly shifts. “Is it bad?”

I nod, trying to downplay the fact that I am in the middle of the hallway and about to narc out Johny, but also realizing that Mr. Karl is my best option for this going off without any real questions. True to form, Mr. Karl does not disappoint.

“One second, let me get my shovel.”

“Shovel?”

“Yeah, to help you bury the body?” Mr. Karl jokes, his demeanor once again changing to more of his usual jovial self. A jovial self that is still frightening and intimidating to all the males who look at him and know they are out classed and therefore try to steer clear of him.

“Just kidding, but follow me into my office, and we can discuss that womanly issue you are having,” Mr. Karl states as he turns away from me and gestures me into his empty classroom. His tone and demeanor clearly indicating that I might need to console him about my monthly menstruations, I almost want to protest but seeing how every guy who had been eavesdropping on our conversation suddenly had a minor look of revulsion and turned away, I couldn’t refute the claim. Or I could, but then it would draw more attention to me and the fact that I didn’t want others to know what we were going to talk about. Ultimately, I accepted the mild disgrace, knowing that it ultimately didn’t matter what the excuse was, just so long as people wanted to avoid listening in to our conversation.

Entering the classroom, Mr. Karl closed the door, and then pressing his hand against a rune on the wall, I watched as he began channeling energy into the wall. Upon activation a dark blue sheen covered the door, making it so the sounds coming from the hallway were now muffled, or non-existent entirely. There was also that odd calm that settles over you, as you realize that the constant stream of noise generated by having hundreds of people crammed into one space were almost non-existent. On reflex, I found myself opening my jaw, as if to pop my ears to see if I was somehow momentarily deaf.  Seeing my reaction, Mr. Karl just laughed.

“Haha, yeah. It’s takes some getting used to, but that lets you know that it is working,” Mr. Karl replies, clearly talking about the now blanket of silence that seems to be covering the two of us.

Giving a quick glance around the room, I soon follow suit to make sure no one popped into the classroom or was hiding in a corner somewhere. Once we were both relatively certain that we were alone and free of any spying Skills, he broke the silence.

“Now spill.”

With those two words I nodded and then proceeded to do the one thing I hated most, I snitched on someone. Though, in this particular case, I didn’t feel quite as bad, knowing that this was for the best. I was still uncertain about what it meant to be a Death Eater smuggler, but I cannot refute what I saw at the arena. Also, this might help to prevent such an attack in the future.

“I don’t know how aware you are of the incident on Saturday,” I began.

“You mean, where you single handedly slew a Death Eater unassisted?” Mr. Karl asked excitedly. Hearing his detail, I realized he had in fact heard about what happened, while I was curious about his source of information. I assumed it was either Markan or Mr. Yi, most likely Markan due to his talkative nature, but that wasn’t important right now. All that was truly important was the fact that he was already aware of the situation.

“Okay—” I began but was cut off by an overly excited Mr. Karl.

“Wait, before this goes any further, did you get something from this encounter?”

“Get something?” I parrot back.

“Yeah, I assume with a great feat like that, the system would reward you with something.”

Thinking about the comment I paused, remembering that there was nothing, no system message, no new Skill. I began shaking my head, remembering that even my most recent Skills for music and movement were based on my own efforts and took place well after the Death Eater was killed. I begin to shake my head no, but stop as I remember the odd finding from even earlier today.

“Wait, I did apparently get a seventh Seal with a Flaming Sword,” I reply, then pause as I have to look up the actual name of the seal.

“You got the seventh seal?” Mr. Karl asked, excitement and wonder building in his eyes.

“Yeah, apparently it is called the Holy Sword of Slaying seal,” I reply. After my statement, I watch as Mr. Karl’s entire face seems to shift from genuinely excited to complete shock.

“Wait, is that a unique seal?”

I nod, “yeah apparently the Royal Order of Watcher guy had never heard of it before. Do you have any idea what it might do or mean? What are seals anyways?”

My questions come one after another, as I finally have someone who I feel I can trust with my questions. Also, I know that asking Mr. Karl won’t betray any trust placed in me by Madame Bloom, at least I don’t think asking him questions will, as she all but forced us to group together. It is only now that I realize how important Madame Bloom has become to me, and how I now subtly ask myself if this would look bad for her, or how I think she would react to my actions. It is all new to me, but for the first time in nearly a decade, I feel that I have people whom I can trust, and that feels both vulnerable and empowering at the same time.

“Whoa there, as for what your seal might do, I assume it has something to do with slaying the undead, Death Eaters in particular. As for seals—” Mr. Karl begins, but then trails off as he tries to consider what to say next.

“Seals are a mystical art that is both similar to rune crafting,” he begins while pointing at the now active and glowing silencing rune on the wall. “The only difference is that seals can only be placed on the soul. While you can still get runes inked onto your body, know that they are limited in what they can do, as only a fraction of the power of a true rune can be imprinted onto your flesh. The soul, however, is an entirely different vessel.

“As for seals themselves, think of them as self-charging spells that can do or produce one-time effects, until the stored energy runs out. I honestly don’t know much more about them myself. There is also the fact that once you get a seal slot, even if it is vacant, a Death Eater cannot enter your soul space.”

Hearing that I nod, while it did answer a lot of questions, I now find myself having a few more.

“Then why doesn’t everyone get a seal slot? If it means we no longer have to worry about Death Eaters being ferried about in secret, it seems like it would be the natural order,” I protest.

At that comment, Mr. Karl just shakes his head.

“Unfortunately, not everyone can get a Seal Slot. While it is not known exactly why this is, it is only known for certain that exceptional Healers can get a Seal Slot without any issues. The fact that you have seven slots, even if only one is filled is amazing. I have not heard of any others with quite so many, which is why I think we should go out hunting this weekend.”

Hearing Mr. Karl speak, I nodded, realizing that hunting might not be so bad. Especially if I get a stash of crystals that I can use to exchange for services from the Arbiter in the future.

“I wouldn’t mind another rift, but is there one close by?” I ask, as I realize I still need to go back to Bloom Park to make sure it is cleaned up and free of any litter. I know it also means a lot to Madame Bloom, and I feel that helping her out would be my way of helping to pay her back for all her support.

“Oh, this isn’t rift hunting that I am talking about, but rather hunting,” Mr. Karl replied, this time adding extra emphasis to the word hunting, as if that somehow changed its meaning. Unfortunately, I was not quite certain what exactly he meant by this subtle nuance.

“Hunting?”

“YEAH, real hunting, taking it to them,” Mr. Karl bellowed excitedly as I could all but feel a wave of bloodlust and barely constrained energy pouring off of him in waves.

“Them?” I again parroted back, not quite certain what he was even talking about, though I was starting to have my suspicions.

“The Death Easters,” Mr. Karl all but sang out those last words, as a crazed smile filled his lips. It was clear that he well and truly hated the Death Eaters. That said, if they were as dangerous as everyone claimed, then going out as a team might not be so bad. At least, I could finally see the dangers of this world, while also hopefully gaining some money in the process. Actually, could I get money for this?

“This pays right?”

“Killing Death Eaters? You betcha!” Mr. Karl replied, then pausing for a second he continued. “Also, if we do it well enough we can get titles, and then no one can deny who you are allowed to marry.”

As Mr. Karl spoke, I could see his eyes shifting off into the distance, as if recalling some event. It was only then that I realized he was likely talking about finally being able to marry Madame Voyou. I still wasn’t entirely certain of the circumstances around this whole forbidden love thing he had between himself and the third prince, but it was clear that Mr. Karl thought that his getting a title would be enough to finally marry Madame Voyou.

Seeing his shift in demeanor and sudden intense stare off into the distance, I was reminded once again of just how much Mr. Karl truly cared for Madame Voyou. It was also after seeing that gaze and look of determination that I realized I would help him, if only to see this love finally be allowed to unite.

“All right,” I reply.

“All right?” Mr. Karl replies back, apparently confused about my response.

“All right, I will help you to gain your title so that you are allowed to live your life how you want.”

There was a pause, before Mr. Karl seemed to internalize my comment, then before I knew it, I was once again caught in a vice like grip of a hug.

“Thank you,” he offered before letting me down.

Another awkward pause filled us, as he just stared at me. A twinge of moisture filling his left eye. Then as if suddenly feeling vulnerable, he tried to regain his composure, “come on degenerate, it’s time to go back to class. First period is almost over.”

As he spoke, he began moving towards the door. Seeing him leave, I suddenly felt flustered as I realized we had spent all this time talking, and I didn’t even get to why I was here in the first place.

“Wait!” I reply, a note of finality filling my words.

“What?”

“I still need to tell you about why I came to you in the first place.”

“You do?” Mr. Karl asked, confusion clearly evident on his face, though he continued to take another half step towards the door, clearly intent on wrapping this conversation up quickly.

“Yeah, it’s about Johny DiVoratore and the arena incident on Saturday night,” I reply.

With that, Mr. Karl paused, all pretense to go towards the door stopped as he heard the intensity of my words and seemed to realize I was about to say something devastating.

“Go on—”