Weeaboo's Unfortunate Isekai: The Necromancer's Gacha

We queued up outside the second door. I had put myself at the end of the stack this time, and bumped Mika up ahead of Pammy. This was the last unexplored room, so I wasn’t worried about being attacked from behind. What I was worried about was what the hell was going on here.

My summons didn’t get tired, and with the possible exception of Versai, didn’t get bored either. So this would start when I was ready, and I decided not to rush it. Too much just didn’t add up.

A gambling hall but no teller’s cage. Could be a cultural thing. Maybe they didn’t buy chips here. Cash on the table like the old Wild West saloons. Except those were literally saloons- bars, with maybe some rooms upstairs for “baths,” and “companionship.” Tables where people could play cards were just that- tables. You bought your drinks, you got to sit at the table and play. I strongly doubted that was how this place operated.

So how exactly did the owners make money? Because they had to be earning off this place somehow, and I doubt just the drinks covered it.

The next thought, which the warehouse pointed directly at, was that this place was a cover for smuggling. All those crates with things hidden inside the straw, covered up with bottles of wine. But, again, that didn’t add up. For that cover to make sense, they would either need to be importing so much wine warehousing space was reasonable, or exporting so much that they needed to hold mass quantities before they could ship it.

There had been exactly zero brewing equipment in sight so far. Nor any evidence of any kind of industrial process. So that was a no.

The things they were smuggling were worthless or near enough. Nobody wants your ratty snowshoes. Or your stained tablecloths, banged up flatware, or nana’s crystal candy dish. Even if it was functional before the game stole it from wherever, it still wouldn’t have been worth anything to anyone who wasn’t the original owner. And when you get right down to it, who the hell attaches even a small warehouse to a bar in the middle of a town?

I really wanted to ask Versai, but that wasn’t going to work. She had pulled herself together, but I could see that this dungeon was doing a number on her. Shame, really, because she was a dungeon clearing machine. I needed her head in the game, but we seemed to be raiding her home town’s Floating Quarter, so. That was a thing.

I gently banged my head against the wall, but no ideas shook out. I always thought I was a pretty smart guy. I went to college. I run my own business… technically. I own my own place. I do a lot better than most.

This place had me feeling really dumb. Just what the hell am I missing?

The first and most obvious idea was hidden passages. Or hidden rooms generally. I laughed softly. “I didn’t bring Rache because I thought she would be more useful scouting, and isn’t very useful in tight quarters. Didn’t think about her ability to find hidden things.”

Versai nodded. “I don’t know that she has a specific ability for that, but yeah, that is the kind of thing a scout would be good at. Before you ask, no. I’m decent at spotting an ambush, but that’s more life experience rather than a specific skill.”

“Gotcha. Alright. Nothing new is coming to mind. Let's get ready to kick in the door.”

I counted them down. Rakim stacked up on the other side of the door from Versai, this time. I wanted to keep evolving my tactics. It sucked doing it live, as it were, but thanks to the “exceptional” game design, there was nowhere else to do it.

Maybe a training room would unlock at wave-who-cares. Just… infuriating.

Rakim jammed her prybar into the gap between the door and frame, and smashed it open. Versai was through before the door had managed to bounce off the wall. The rattling sound of the daggers battering her shield came loud and fast. There was an odd rhythm to it, like a particularly militant drumline was establishing its authority.

Rakim crouched low and leaned in around the door frame. The short black rifle she carried made solid crack-crack-crack noises, not the deafening booms I had expected. The scene hammered me again and again with that sense of alienation, of wrongness. Mika pushed into the room after Versai, adding her shield to the mix.

I risked a quick glance in before yanking my head back. Kim’s buffs were doing their usual impressive work, meaning that the defending gamblers were getting torn apart by Versai, Mika and Rakim. This room looked more like an office, but filled with long shared tables. Huge stacks of paper were scattered everywhere.

The layout was simple- just a big rectangle, but what made it nightmarish were the number of enemies within. With a quick glance I could count an easy dozen. There might be more, popping up from behind the tables, flinging their knives and ducking down again. Worse, they were keeping very mobile, doing their best to flank our sole melee fighter.

“Versai, fall back!”

“Yes, Tower Ma-” The rest of her words came as a sort of Ghurk noise.

I swear I didn’t see him coming at all. One second there was no one between Versai and the door, and the next an old man was behind her, a long knife stabbed up into her armpit. It whipped out and stabbed her neck.

Versai showed her experience there, using a move I would never in a million years have expected. She shoved her ass into him. Just dropped her weight down, stuck her ass out, and bounced him back a step. She swung her shield around in a vicious ark, smashing into his knee and sweeping his legs out from under him. Completing her turn, she brought her sword down in a vicious chop.

First time I have ever seen anyone decapitated. I could have lived without- wait. The body faded away. Other than the initial spray of blood, there was nothing on the floor. “Versai! Fall back to the door! NOW!”

She scrambled backward, getting to her feet and trying to keep her shield up. The gamblers hadn’t stopped throwing their knives, after all. And worse, the closer she got to the door, the more she blocked Mika and Rakim’s line of sight. The blades were falling at a furious rate now, and some were slipping through, clipping Versai’s legs. Most skittered off her armor- most.

“Pammy, how close do you have to be to heal someone?”

“Um. Um. Pammy has to be able to touch them to make the ouchies go away.”

I momentarily blanked on the right swear. I felt like I needed to use all of them, all at once.

“Alright, you get ready. The second Versai crosses that doorway, you start healing her, okay?”

“Pammy can do it!”

Versai’s costume changed. I think it was the first time I remember seeing it. Parts of her armor just vanished, or were torn like cloth. The blood looked painted on. Literally painted on- I didn’t see it drip.

I hated myself a little for noticing that her tummy was just as firm as I thought it would be.

She reached Mika and Rakim by the door, and Kim and I reached out and yanked her back through. We got her on the ground, covered by the wall.

“Mika, fall back and block the entire door with your shield. Rakim, shoot over her shield while staying in cover as much as possible!”

Pammy was already hard at work. “Oh no, where’s the ouchie?” Long streamers of bandages seemed to fly out and around Versai, wrapping her, then vanishing in a flash of pale green light.

“Oh no, where’s the ouchie?” The bandages went flying again.

“Damn! Versai, talk to me! Is it a bleed effect? Have you been debuffed and prevented from healing?”

She blinked up at me like I was being crazy.

“Bleed debuff? How would that even work? I’m injured, but other than that I’m fine. It’s just that it will take Pammy a few activations to heal me, as I have more health than One Stars, by a lot.”

Ah… right. I do remember seeing that on her character sheet.

“Give her a few rounds, and I will be back in it. Did you see that guy who got me?”

“Yes, I think he can turn invisible.”

“Must be a camouflage effect, not invisibility.” Versai shook her head. “The only person who I don’t want to talk about it.” Her eyes went wide. I saw her mouth working, trying to say something. I rested my hand on her shoulder, hearing the reassuring sounds of rifle fire and crossbow bolts coming from Mika and Rakim.

“It’s alright. I get it. Really. I get it.”

I tried to think if there was anything I could do to create dust or smoke in the room, but the game really discouraged that kind of lateral thinking. Maybe I could cobble something together with enough time, but I didn’t want to give them more time to get organized. Or to let that invisible old man start hunting us.

“Got any grenades Rakim?”

“I can craft them with the right ingredients.”

No then. Hard way it is.

“Kim, can you set fires with your powers?”

“Not really my thing, Boss. Maybe under the right circumstances?”

“Like a room full of paper? Like that room right there?”

“No can do, Boss!”

Are you kidding me?! Is it limited to cut scenes or special events? Oh what am I saying, of course it is. That’s why she could suppress the fires to let us into the building, but couldn’t buff fire resistance during the battle. FANTASTIC. I AM VERY HAPPY AND CALM.

The rain of knives was slowing down. The weight of fire was heavier on their side, but throwing knives were a losing bet against an actual wall and a proper shield. Anything that did slip through was healed by Pammy.

“Alright, we hold here and clear out as many as we can. I’m assuming the old man isn’t going to mindlessly rush at us, so everyone stays put and focuses on clearing out the ones we can see from the doorway. Kim, keep ‘em buffed.”

“Got it boss.”

After that it was down to the waiting. I didn’t watch them work. There was something sickly about it. Robot dolls shooting humanoid fish in a barrel. Besides, there was nothing more I could do to help, and sticking my head around the corner meant risking a knife between the eyebrows. Not doing that twice in one raid.

It took a few minutes. Slower rate of fire combined with the way the gamblers kept moving around and using cover dragged things out. The results might have been different if the gamblers could have rushed the door, but they stayed at range. Why, I don’t know. Programming, but… seemed half assed. Maybe there were party compositions that tactic would be lethal against.

Necromancer gacha-game devs. Nobody said they were nice, and nobody said they were good either.

“Clear.”

“No. It isn’t. There is an invisible old man in there. Remain combat ready.”

“No, she’s right. The room is empty.” The voice was dry, withered sounding. “All those children are quite dead.” I felt the point of a knife press into my throat. “And so are you.”