Chapter 321: Unexpected Item in the Bagging Area

Chapter 321: Unexpected Item in the Bagging Area

Why is it called common sense? Ive never found it to be very common.

Look at it this way. If Im willing to take a ridiculous wager on a race between Jacked Jackson and Spongy Crudits, obviously I have an ace up my sleeve. Im not going to go all in on the blind hope Damicar was secretly a crossfitter, heavyweight division.

Even if Royn thought he would still win, he had to know something sketchy was going to go down. Its a marvellous lesson when the tortoise beats the hare, but not the one you think. Check the hares bank account, its going to show a sizeable deposit from Mr T. Ortoise.

Then again, never underestimate the ability of people to underestimate others.

Once I left my body, everything froze. Vines grew out of people like freaky alien tentacles, as usual, and the street was a mass of tendrils, connecting everything together. Apart from my body, of course. In the daylight, it all pulsated with colour. I noticed the different types of vines, pumping their various contents from one end to the other.

Royn had set off the moment I gave the signal, arms and legs pumping, his game face on. Damicar was standing still, his head turned towards Royn. I assume this was because hed never tried running before, and was looking for tips.

Damicar also must have known this wasnt going to be a may the best man win contest. Wouldnt have agreed to take part if it was. He had seen the sorts of things that happened when I was involved, so he probably expected some kind of divine intervention. I sensed something more than that from him, though. I think it was trust, although it was hard to tell without anything to compare it to. Both he and Wesley seemed to have given me this odd thing I didnt really know what to do with. It was like someone giving you a key, but not telling you what it was for.

There wasnt much of a gap between the two competitors yet, although a clear race leader had already emerged (around the time these two were born). It was interesting, though, how few vines were coming from Royn. What did that mean? He was a bit of a loner? All his bluster was a cover for a lonely little boy?

I have no issue with a little cod psychology to while away the hours, but now was not the time. Royn would easily win this race. I wasnt even sure Damicar would come in second. If I allowed this to play out fairly. Which I didnt.

Without my wooden sword, I couldnt do much with the vines. I had been able to gnaw through the thinner ones with my teeth in the past, but there wasnt really a need for that.

One of my other discoveries in this place had been that items that touched had a sticky black substance between them. While in the real world you might think picking something up was simply a matter of your hand enclosing and moving an item through space, it actually required the joining of the two separate entities via this goo. It was stretchy, vaguely disgusting, and could be used to bind things to each other.

I hadnt done much research on the substance, no clinical trials and a backhander to a government minister so my patented product could be in shops by Christmas, but stick two things on either end of the black goo, and things were going to start coming together.

The other great thing about the adjacent world was the luxury of time. I worked so much better when I wasnt under pressure. Jenny had suggested the opposite, but the advantage of working under the gun was that it got results quicker, not better. Which is what people want when they have to wait for you.

By teasing out the black goo from in between surfaces, and slowly stretching it like chewing gum, I could get it to reach objects several metres away. I slowly built up a network of webs all across the street. I joined each of Royns goons standing near the start to Royn. A foot to his head. A head to his crotch. I took my time at least a couple of hours, though its hard to tell when nothing moves and set up some sweet interactions.

If this worked, I could see it being my new approach to all fights. Although it was quite a protracted process, so running away would still be number one. Always.

I got six of his guys hitched to Royn by black goo, using several strands for each person. No such thing as redundancy in my world, everything that could fail, would fail. You can never have too many backups. After all the effort I was putting into this, I was going to get my moneys worth.

One last look at my fine work, and then I went back. Wesley and my younger-self were watching with interest, keen to see how this was going to turn out. An audience, but no audience participation. I liked it.

Time resumed.

Royn burst into an early and, under normal circumstances, unassailable lead. Damicar was nearing the moment where he would overcome inertia and start moving. Six of Royns men hurtled towards Royn.

It was very satisfying to watch. The men had no idea what was going on, and Royn was too focused on winning by the biggest margin possible to notice something was amiss until it was too late.

They didnt just rush towards him, they flew. It was like some kung-fu movie with Master Yuen Woo-Ping choreographing the wirework. Two of them smashed into each other, but after rebounding, they boomeranged back in from new angles.

The collisions were glorious. Heads cracked with the unpleasant musicality of a glockenspiel. Royn was hit from all sides, bundled to the ground, unable to move under a pile of beefy minions.

Keep going! I shouted at Damicar, who had stopped to watch the carnage.

He began jogging, almost enthusiastically. It would be embarrassing if he pulled a muscle and we lost that way.

Nice and easy. Pace yourself.

I was under no illusions. My skills, cool as they might look, were akin to button-mashing. I could pull off an impressive move or two, but never the same thing twice. It was more that people werent ready for me that gave me my edge.

One day I would be good enough with my vine and black goo skills so that in situations like this Id be able to quickly leap into the other world and, in a few deft strokes, get the fuckers dancing in formation. Hard to kill a guy while you do the Wah Watusi in perfect sync with a dozen other goons. See, I had ambitions in life.

You, said Royn, you, you

What was he going to accuse me of? Cheating? Id already told him this wasnt going to be a fair fight. I even told him to bend the rules all he wanted. I didnt let him, of course, but its the thought that counts.

I think you owe me a boat ride, I said.

Royn collected some of his dignity and stood up straight. One of his men held up his jacket so he could put it back on. I responded by holding up Damicars coat, which was a bit tricky for him to get on while holding onto his onions.

Royn was fuming. Do you really think Im going to let you have one of my ships?

This was always going to be the problem. Defeating someone in real life, really rubbing their noses in it, never turned out as well you would hope. Fights didnt end with the boss monster slowly fading from view, leaving behind cash and rare items.

It was rare for someone you thrashed in real life to go, Yeah, well done. Turns out you are better than me, after all. Heres a hat to complete the outfit youve been grinding for.

People have a strong aversion to admitting theyre shit. For some reason, they think if they dont admit it, then no one will think it. Like a confession is the only way theyll ever get caught. Yeah, your horrible behaviour and the endless stream of bollocks coming out of your mouth are all just circumstantial evidence, itll never stand up in court. What a genius legal mind you have.

I was hoping you would be a man of your word, I said. But if you dont want to keep your end of the deal, I suppose theres not much I can do about it. You should probably get your affairs in order and arrange for your successor. The Golden God isnt going to be pleased.

Is that a threat? You think your little tricks are fooling anyone? Golden God Ha! Why, you arent anymore favoured by the Golden God than I am.

Royn, said Damcar. He is the Golden Gods emissary. Ask Uncle Malmur.

Royn reacted to the mention of Malmurs name. What does Malmur have to do with anything?

Nothing, I said. You should make your own decision, and then live by it. For however long that might be.

It was fun playing the confident arsehole. The men gathered around Royn looked ready to get stuck in, but I could tell they had doubt in their minds. They had somehow been overpowered by me who wouldnt doubt themselves after that? Even if it was a trick, it was a trick that worked. Which made it the same as not a trick.

One of Royns men leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Maybe hed heard about what had happened last night on Fish Row. Royns expression changed. From intense fury to medium fury with a light sprinkling of mild consternation.

Then he laughed, the way people fake laugh when they realise theyre fucked, but they think no one else has noticed. Very well. The head of the Seafarers Union keeps his word. You shall have your boat. It will take a few hours to arrange and get it ready. He signalled one of his guys to go take care of it. Or to go get the torture chamber ready.

There was still an excellent chance he would have me taken out when no one was looking. Or when everyone was looking. But at least he had accepted the loss. On the surface, he was putting on a brave face, but deep down he knew the truth. He had lost a running race to a fat man. His world would never be the same again.

Why dont we go to my favourite tavern and have a drink? he said.

Actually, I havent had breakfast yet. Any chance we could grab a bite to eat?

He was happy to buy me breakfast. You might think it isnt easy eating with assorted goons giving you death stares, but made me feel quite nostalgic.

Give him his due, once he got over the initial shock, Royn didnt hold a grudge. Not out in the open. He had calmed down very quickly. Too quickly. I still expected a bait and switch at some point.

I told him Id put in a good word for him with the big guy upstairs (who was actually downstairs not very far from here). We made some agreements about not putting his men in danger they would drop us off and wait for us to return. Sure they would.

He probably thought the best way to get his revenge was to take me to the island and my fate would be sealed. He may well have been right.