The Fool's Freedom

The largest square directly in front of the World Temple was currently bustling with activity. The children were particularly rowdy, playing and laughing as if the fate of the whole society didn’t depend on the whims of whoever was strongest, or hardest to kill. Which was hardly the same thing.

There was already a crowd there when they arrived along with a very large group led by Rosalyn. The Elven Trunk people looked like what one would expect a bunch of adventurers to look, and Alan smiled at the notion. Some were trying very hard to bring the ‘fantasy’ to life, especially the musician whom Alan saw present. Was he a [Bard] or something else?

In a better world that’s what they could’ve been. Exploring the unknown, fighting the monsters for glory, and thriving together. Maybe it was still possible. Probably not for him, though.

He still felt himself falling. It felt good.

And this was not a better world and there would be no unity today. Instead of banding together as humans would do after a natural disaster, they would do what humans did best—fuck everyone’s day up.

Alan didn’t care either way. All he cared about was making sure Cole was not the one on top, and that he didn’t miss on any of the benefits. He had to start grabbing with both hands if he wanted to increase whatever his advantage over the others was.

The Dungeon had been quite disappointing when it came to rewards, not even giving a title for completing it. The biggest gain was all the easy-to-find experience and the two boss quests. He didn’t know how potent the two healing charms were either.

Shit, will there even be a title for becoming a Sanctuary Leader? If the title came with attribute bonuses, then it would be huge. He seriously doubted that, but the System was proving time and time again that it could be as generous as it could be stingy.

Not that he wanted to be a leader that much, he hoped he could give up on the role after profiting from it.

Alan had Florence’s ring on and it felt weird but not that weird. It was a very useful item in certain situations. However, it had the potential to use up even more mana than his daggers as it was a sustained effect and not a single activation that lasted for a time.

Thankfully since enchanting both of his arms’ bones, Alan had noticed a significant pickup when it came to his mana regeneration. He was also pretty sure that’s what had allowed him to notice the energy of things flowing around. His newly enchanted hand did feel a bit weirder at times, but it was nothing worrying. He hoped that the werewolf blood was not strong enough to circumvent a skill given by the system to utilize it. Werewolves were technically beasts, right?

Skills were not simple at all, especially those without a direct effect. He stopped himself from sighing as that’s what everyone had been doing way too much of so far, and looked around.

His eyes stopped on a group comprised mostly of armed youngsters. Each had a rabbit in some shape or form drawn or embroidered on their new world clothes.

Are those the elusive Sane Rabbits? They’re all like seventeen or eighteen tops.

“Hey, Rosy?” he called.

“Yes, Al?” she replied.

Alan glared at her, “Don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t call me Rosy.”

“…Fair. Anyway, what’s the deal with the Rabbits?”

“Oh, them? Anyone above 15 received the option for Sanctuary or Tutorial once the System hit. They are comprised of those who chose the Tutorial. You will be surprised how good some of those kids are doing in the System world. It’s like they were born for it.”

Makes sense. I should’ve played more video games.

“Their leader,” she pointed at a young man, wearing a wooden angry rabbit mask that covered the top half of his face. He also had a long dark blue trench coat of strange make that billowed cinematically in an invisible wind. “He calls himself Top Rabbit and is a straight cunt with all the arrogance that comes with having such power at a younger age… not that some of us are doing any better. I’m pretty sure he thinks of himself as a superhero.”

“Huh.” Quite the description.

“Don’t get me wrong, he is much better than most; still, he isn’t afraid of using violence to get his own. They do have a bottom line unlike some of the less successful gangs, but they are also young and impulsive.”

Alan didn’t fully agree. Everyone was going crazy after the end of the world, himself included. Age didn’t matter much. And the presence of the System and all the power that came with it would only make it more irrelevant with time. Alan tried to examine the other groups and was about to ask Rosalyn for some information when he felt something wrong.

There was a loud thump in his chest and his ears started ringing. Alan felt his limbs go numb and his head hazy.

No, no, no! Not now!

“Are you okay?” Ashlyn whispered in his ear. She held his right arm and supported him, and Alan felt familiarity and unimaginable strength behind her touch like he never had before. As if he was a thin dry branch being held by a giant. He shook his head weakly.

The feeling got worse quickly and he was waiting for the System message telling him his Vitality had decreased. Strangely, it didn’t come.

Then all was well. Feeling slowly returned in his muscles and the tingling went away. Warmth was again spreading around his body.

Just a reminder to stop wasting time, huh?

The System and his condition were functioning strangely together. He couldn’t be the only one. Some people certainly had it worse, and who hadn’t stumbled upon a lucky spirit encounter to solve half of their problems with a smile. Most of them were probably dead by now. It was only due to luck that he was here.

Shit.

“I’m fine, Ash. Thank you.”

His best friend nodded but looked unconvinced. There was no lying to Ashlyn.

A commotion up ahead drew their attention and Alan saw someone familiar in the center of it. Dusty, in all his glory, was pummeling a man like his life depended on it. And it most likely did.

The man though didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

He was not large like Emerson or chiseled to perfection like Socorro. A regular physique on the thinner side, pale skin, and hands in the pockets of his pants. His chest was bare. Yet, his flesh warped and sank and flowed like water as he took Dusty’s empowered punches without batting an eyelid.

“Who is that?” Ashlyn asked.

“He calls himself Turtle. He can’t be beaten. I mean, he hasn’t won against anyone, but he hasn’t lost either. Magic, blades, punches. He doesn’t care and has no current affiliation with the gangs. He is quite popular, especially among the kids, but they say he is also quite arrogant. We tried talking to him, but he ignored us.”

“Is that so?” It sounded like the guy was another monster. An interesting one.

Why were they fighting? Bullshit duels? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Alan had no patience for a game of pass the leadership, intricate plots, or waiting for the right time to fight. He felt stronger and surer than ever for some reason, even if the only thing that had changed was his mindset; as if he had not been made aware of his mortality just moments ago.

Was he being arrogant? He had gone from thinking he knew what was going on, to not knowing shit, to making mistake after mistake and worsening his paranoia. And now he was completely sure he had it figured out. Was this another idiot main character syndrome moment?

His upgraded trait revealed something though. You didn’t just have to think about doing something. You had to firmly decide it, to adopt the idea and make it part of yourself. To change. And then the world, or in this case the System, would reward you for it.

He had embraced some of his flaws, and the shadows that represented them last night. Even if his path was wrong, he would decide on it for now. Change was always possible, as long as one lived and learned from mistakes. And mistakes he had made in abundance.

Time for another one. Fuck it.

He was not sure how long he would live if he continued being stupid, but it was time to test it out.

Alan smiled and pushed through the crowd in front of their group, walking down the sloping path towards the action. No one stopped him, but he felt Ashlyn following close behind. Rosalyn only threw a curious glance but said nothing. They had just met and while he loved the fact that she could not lie, he could only trust one person. Didn’t hurt to try and make new friends though.

“Hey, Ash.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what’s up with me, but I feel like it’s just the beginning of all of this mess, and I am quite tired of it already.”

He stopped at the front of the crowd and watched the one-sided beating. Dusty was looking worse for the wear, while the one taking the beating looked on the verge of napping. Some people laughed, but a quick glare from Dusty put a quick end to it. He seemed to have some reputation despite his current sweaty and tired state.

“So,” Alan continued, “I might do something very stupid.”

Ashlyn was thoughtful for a second, then unshouldered her bow before Alan could stop her.

“I got you.”

“You sure? I don’t know if it’s the class speaking, or something has finally snapped. I’d prefer not dragging you down.”

“If all the people in this crowd jumped us, we might lose. But half are noncombatants and the other half still don’t even have a class. Don’t underestimate us. These are not blood corpses or werewolves.”

Alan grinned.

“Turtle, right?” he yelled out over the chatter of the crowd, and the dull sound of Dusty’s resumed flurry of punches. There was silence as people were instantly focused on the new actor in the drama.

The man in question turned, ignoring Dusty’s kick that landed straight in the middle of his face, and nodded. His eyes were droopy, and he fully ignored his opponent, which only pissed the [Bruiser] further. Not that would do him any good from the looks of things.

Some people instantly turned their attention to Alan and he saw frowns and heard whispers. He didn’t know them nor did he care to know them.

“Wanna be friends?” Alan asked. “I will end him for you.”

Let’s see if my guess is correct.

Turtle took his time thinking, while Dusty clogged him with a wide haymaker that did nothing. Turtle really took his time. Then nodded again, slowly.

“The fuck do you think you are doing you piece of shit?” Dusty turned his attention toward Alan, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Alan barely acknowledged him and continued looking toward Turtle.

“I’m Alan and I plan on taking over this place, to see what it’s like and if I can snatch any benefits. What do you want?”

There was a large murmur in the crowd and some of the groups shifted around in anticipation of the new fight that was most likely about to break out.

Turtle once again took his sweet time answering. True to the name he had chosen, he was in no hurry.

“To live forever,” he finally said. His voice was quiet but carried over easily over the silence pressing upon the crown.

“Hey, you son of a bitch, I’m talking to you!” Dusty yelled, unable to bear being ignored. He stepped towards Alan. His eyes were red, and his fist grew bronze as did the rest of his body.

“You are?”

“Y—”

[Synaptic Failure] once again struck the man. He handled it better this time, as he was not mid-charge. Yet, all it took was two steps before his legs gave out on him and he fell face-first into the dirt.

“I can’t hear you. Sorry, man.” Some of the anxiety of performing in front of people was trying to get to him, but it seemed constant brushes with death did wonders for stage fright too.

There was silence, then some cheering. ‘Get that piece of shit!’, ‘Gut him’, and ‘Piss on him’ were only some of the calls Alan heard.

He stepped closer to the prone figure of Dusty.

“Well, Turtle. I want to live a long time too. So, again, wanna be friends? I mean, as long as you are not a piece of shit.”

“What are you doing?” a voice called out. Alan knew that voice. Cole walked out flanked by a few people, one of whom was Tim. “Come on, Alan. I thought we were cool after the last time! It’s the rules of the Sanctuary to start an official duel. Don’t go ambushing people.”

Alan stopped right in front of Dusty’s struggling body. There were only a few seconds left.

Turtle finally nodded for the third time. “I would like a nice friend.”

The ritual dagger appeared in his hand in a burst of shadows. The cat skull pommel started glowing with the activation of the enchantment that seemed to hold no regard for magical protections.

“Well, I am not the nicest, but I am not half bad either. You won’t miss him, right?”

Dusty was already getting back in control and struggling to stand up.

Turtle shook his head.

“Good.”

Alan said nothing further as shadows crawled from the hilt to the blade of his dagger, making it longer and deadlier in an instant. With no hesitation, he stabbed the black weapon into the skull of the slowly rising Dusty.

Alan felt only some pity as it sank deep.

You have slain: Human [Bruiser] (13)

Weak. Nadia was stronger.

“No!” Cole screamed over the cheering that came from a particular group. No one else announced their anger though, not even those behind Cole. They seemed shocked at the development, but the only one who was angry was the [Chief]. “What have you done?”

Doomed myself to a life of slaughter, probably. Could be worse.

“To be honest, man. I don’t know,” Alan shrugged. “I should have done this the first time we met. Now that I think about this, it’s the second now? Funny. I just realized I don’t even have a reason to hate you other than the fact that you seem like a bastard. I hope you sent Nadia to kill me last night?”

Cole looked toward Tim, who shrugged in response. “I haven’t sent anyone after you, you crazy fucker.”

“Damn. It would’ve made things easier for me.”

“Alan, calm down. We can talk. I know Dusty cheated you in the duel, it was not fair and he got what he deserved. Let’s not turn this into a blood bath. We only want what’s best for the Sanctuary and its people,” Tim suddenly said, taking a step forward but still staying behind Cole.

You do, eh? Are you that innocent yourself, Timmy?

Alan was done listening to bullshit. Why could everyone else act crazy, but not him?

“Say, where is Emerson?”