Vol. 4 Chap. 49 Seaside Sunshine

Name:Slumrat Rising Author:
Vol. 4 Chap. 49 Seaside Sunshine

It took a while going around a whole damn mountain to avoid a single roadblock, but it was still less annoying than slipping through the roadblock by playing dead. He kept picking at the question of why the birds were messing up his ability to cast Earth Folding Step. It wasn’t even all birds. Just cop-birds and Starbrite birds. It made zero sense.

The trees seemed to be conspiring against him. They were densely packed together, but small. The worst of both worlds, as it meant that he had to be constantly moving around them, but couldn’t really climb them and jump from tree to tree at speed. No, it was a lot of zig-zags, as he tried to keep on track and not lose track of where the highway was. Ironically, the circling surveillance was a real help there. He could look up and orient whenever he liked.

Since when does looking at a spell make it not work?

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Ahaha. Ha. More than most, I’d say.

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Well. I mean. I don’t know how water ‘works’ either, but I can still drink water.

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I was more focused on the drinking part.

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You die if you don’t drink water. Good enough reason.

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Truth tried to zip between a pair of... maybe pine trees? Or fir? He was vague on the difference. He slipped the gap only to run directly into a whippy little thing that was barely chest high. No damage or pain, of course, but it was just irritating. No such thing as a clear gap.

The System wasn’t wrong, of course. He didn't know the “why” behind most things. It was one of those nice-to-have things. Understanding what was, was always more important. Still was more important. Didn’t feel any closer to Starbrite, but... if anyone had a lead, it would be Internal Security.

Also the plague engines. Not going to sleep on that one. Actual, literal plague engines. Machines for generating life exterminating demon plagues. If they were really diabolical, they would be designed to go off after the magic finished collapsing. Really exterminate any chance of resistance.

Truth found the lady with the bloody hands and the summer dress. She was seeing off a gaggle of social climbers, enjoying being the moon surrounded by the little stars. She strode off, and he fell in beside her.

“What was that all about?” He leaned on Incisive. C-Tier or not, she was a Level One. She spoke when commanded, not even realizing she was doing so.

“Wasn’t that fun? I didn’t get a piece last time, as I had never made an offering before and I was a little alarmed by all the noise. This time I made sure to stand next to where-”

“No. What was that all about? Look straight at it, and tell me.”

The sunny smile drained off her face. “Refo was a defeatist. He listened to foreign propaganda, undermined morale, and was a known hoarder. When we broke into his house, we found no less than four kilos of meat buried in the bottom of his freezer. Not to mention all the illegal scry equipment and immoral books. He has always been suspiciously lucky in those maintenance contracts too- we all agreed he must be getting support from foreign spies and local traitors.”

She waved her hands, chopping them through the air. “Not the first time such a thing has happened. Not the hundredth or thousandth! But there is a way, a simple way, for even ordinary people to turn bone eating parasites into nutrition for the nation. Sacrifice!”

She snorted. “So we-”

“I understand. I completely understand.”

It was amazing how relieved she looked. Like his understanding was the important thing. Not his agreement, or forgiveness, or forbearance. His understanding. He could watch the thoughts moving through her mind. As long as they understood, what right-thinking person could condemn her for what she did? In fact, they would agree with her. They would praise her for being a good, civic minded, responsible person.

Besides, everyone was doing it. The police ignored it, and even arrested people trying to stop it. So it couldn’t possibly be wrong. She couldn’t possibly be wrong. It was an ancient truth, not taught in schools but instinctively understood. You tithed money at church, made incense offerings at the temples. And sometimes, God was hungry. Sometimes, he needed to sink his teeth into something more substantial.

It wasn’t anything written in textbooks, at least not in Jeon. It certainly wouldn’t be considered real magic, the way a Gentle Waves massage chair would be, or a flying carpet. It was like throwing a coin in a well and wishing for luck. You had to give, if you wanted to get. Fountain didn’t care where you got that coin, after all.

It was like the day of the SAT’s. Everyone mobbed up, joyfully righteous, joyfully murderous. Because it wasn’t murder, they were doing the right thing. It was practically self defense.

He looked at the middle aged woman in her summer clothes- her nice shoes, her sun dress, the big straw hat. He saw the fear in her. That if she wasn’t in the mob, leading the mob, she would be torn apart by it. It was in the too wide smile that never left her face. It was in the way she didn’t blink enough, and always laughed louder than she should.

She was scared. And she would do it again. And again. And again. Until she was safe. And she would never once regret what she did. Why should she? She was one of the good ones.

A true daughter of Jeon.