Chapter 127: 117. Underworld Intro (II)

There was a laundromat tucked in the western corner of Downtown. It was right around the bend of a dingy shopping center and flea market, which were across the street from the city’s dog racing stadium that was more active during times before the spread of the devil flakes. The laundromat was at the bottom floor of an apartment complex and had a man with a pot-belly and unwashed armpits working the coin booth. The laundromat man barely paid attention to the people coming in and out of the front and back doors. His eyes were glued to his overly loud TV. He scratched his armpits with one hand and held the remote in the other to go from channel to channel.

“...emergency response scrambles in a desperate search for survivors of a Systemized attack that partially collapsed an apartment complex. We arrived in Orlando where a smoldering hill of twisted metal and crumbled cement marked the scene of destruction. It's in a neighborhood within viewing distance of Disney World of all places…”

Click–

“...the President calls for a state of emergency as a tropical storm passes near Florida and pushes the airborne devil flakes north up the east coast. Easterly winds threaten to carry more of the devil flakes across the gulf and along the southern coast of the United States and toward Central America and the northern countries of South America. Atlantic currents might lead to further spreading of devil flakes in counties across the ocean east…”

Click–

“...the Prime Minister of Japan delivers a speech declaring their borders are closed to Americans or any traveler who passes through the region. This follows trends sparked by EU nations closing their borders and reenacting the first stages of public lockdowns similar to the actions taken in the beginnings of the Covid 19 pandemic. Heated debates between economists suggest that the global markets cannot bear further lockdowns regardless of the spread of the apocalypse…”

Click–

“...I’m at a small town north of Brunswick, Georgia where witnesses claim the Vagabond Champion, Dennis Miller, was seen here fighting a mythical monster. A family of four was on a fishing trip along the Altamaha River when intense and sudden surf rocked their boat. The family describes a geyser of water erupting beside the boat, nearly capsizing them. When the water curtain fell, the family watched a muscular bond man wrestle with what locals call the Altamaha-ha sea monster…”

Click–

“...maybe nobody wants to say it, but that’s okay. I’ll be the one to say it because I actually care about our nation. And our world! I think they need to shackle that Gravity Devil and put him on trial. We all know he’s guilty, but this nation runs on Due Process. But maybe we shouldn’t have that since we’re in the middle of an apocalyptic crisis! But fine! Let’s have Due Process. And when we find that the Gravity Devil’s guilty, an execution should be in order. Does that sound extreme? Well, toughen up. Because we’re living in extreme times. We have teenage girls claiming their goddesses that make the beliefs of my eccentric neighbor a laughing stock, nevermind my beliefs, or the beliefs of most Americans. And who are the idiots running their mouths about that Britney Williams girl being the people’s hero? I have a friend who’s a good friend of the most amazing man serving as a pastor down in Alabama. And that pastor, who’s done nothing but good for his community, was not only assaulted and slandered by that Britney Williams crook, but was also targeted by her criminal family, a bunch of lowlives and thugs! Half of that Williams family is in incarceration, and I’m supposed to believe she’s a hero? She’s in cahoots with the so-called teenage goddess, the source of the apocalypse. And Britney Williams is friends, or more than friends, with the freaking Gravity Devil, who’s spreading the apocalypse in the first place!”

Jay paused his spellcraft work, too annoyed to continue inscribing on Rick. He didn't like it when people slandered his Champions, especially Brit.

Jay turned and concentrated on the TV power cord in an attempt to unplug it via gravity magic. It took some thought on his part. The walls of the coin booth were in his way.

Extending magic from his body toward the power cord inside the booth slowed the process. It was like having to push through heavy curtains. The mundane walls couldn’t stop him, but they still served as obstacles. Anyone who were wizened to magic fields and had decent Agility could move out of the way of Jay’s nearly translucent purple magic if he tried to nab them through a wall. Since Jay was focused on a smaller target, his use of magic went unnoticed as the TV powered off instantly.

“Hey, what’s the deal here?” the laundromat man slapped at his TV in frustration. On the third hit, he smashed it off the shelf above his desk. The TV fell to the floor where it crashed, breaking apart. The Level 3 Slugger let out a cuss, still not adjusted to his own Systemized Strength that he’d poured into after a few level ups.

“I can only listen to so much of that stuff,” Jay muttered. He went back to using a special magic knife to lay a spellcraft ritual on Rick’s right shoulder.

Jay was sitting on a laundry table. Rick stood waiting in only his undies– they were Basic Quality undies, but Jay’s meta-g suggested those undies had narrative weight and wouldn’t get destroyed easily.

Casey prowled around the laundromat, glancing at spare clothing people might’ve left behind. She wore mundane sheets wrapped around her torso and waist like a two-piece toga costume.  Her Wicked Wood Nightsticks were tucked behind the small of her back.

Her left calf glowed with a silvery white ritual she’d done on herself using Jay’s spellcraft knife. On her right shoulder Jay had layered Featherfall. On her left shoulder was Disable Gravity. Rick bore his own red spellcraft ritual, Harden, on his chest while Jay got closer to completing Featherfall and Disable Gravity on Rick’s shoulders just like Casey.

Jay was slower at this than his [Faerie] and couldn’t hope to compete in ritual inscribing speed with the likes of Mike and Hailey, the Champion [Mages]. But Jay had been squeezing in the learning while dealing with the fallout of the apocalyptic spread and the Junkside War aftermath. He had to reduce his progression in Capoeira, sword training, and pushing the boundaries of his own powers, but Jay was determined to learn as many disciplines as he could get his hands on.

It was a good distraction. And it reminded Jay that he was moving further away from his origins. He was becoming something greater even if he wasn't leveling that fast.

It was interesting for Jay that he could now work brainy stuff like spellcraft. Inscribing rituals for limited uses of magic was another tool of power among many in the Multiverse. But this was a tool that required the knowledge and memorization of runes and how they could multiply in difficulty going from one circle to the next one above. 

The runes he used were mainly readapted from himself, coming to fruition through his Gravity [Freak] Class. Jay couldn’t use any other powers that didn’t have gravity involved, hence having to wait on Casey and Rick to inscribe their own rituals that had taken Hailey long hours to teach the [Starter Fighters].

Mike and Hailey didn’t have any specific gravity spellcraft in their [Mage] books and scrolls. The closest mentioning of gravity magic could be found in the [Medium] archives, but that was tied to an old and unreliable fable following a minstrel that visited the grandest gravity enchanted cities of unknown origins. Jay was the only source of gravity spellcraft on Earth, and each ritual born from him could be recorded, studied, and readapted by the [Mages], especially with Hailey’s advanced runic literacy.

She would probably come up with a gravity-based 4th Circle curse soon enough. Jay imagined Hailey creating something that would do horrific damage to those who held her malicious attention.

“Found anything?” Rick asked when Casey returned to their side.

Casey shook her head. She was locked in on wearing the toga sheets now. They had little narrative weight. Just not as much as Rick's undies.

“And that should do it,” Jay said, finishing up the last runic inscription on Disable Gravity. He had to double-check to ensure every rune was inscribed correctly on each layer of the ritual.

There were multiple ways to inscribe spellcraft rituals to a surface. Kleo liked weave rings that flowed up a limb. Jay preferred to save space by layering the diagrams on top of each other in thin stacks. Jay had to use every bit of his Perception and Intellect to focus with extreme intent to not mess up.

The ritual hovered right over the surface Jay had inscribed them to, never truly touching, but seeming to appear like glowing tribal tattoos of an alien origin. They tended to glow in the colors of the inscriber, too. So both Casey and Rick’s shoulders glowed with Jay’s signature purple color.

Jay dropped from the table. He was dressed in a ratty-looking hoodie he nabbed off of a clothing line on the way here. It was big on him, too, so it reached down mid-thigh. He looked like a half-naked homeless kid, especially while standing next to the more taller and physically defined [Starter Fighters]. Jay had a good amount of muscle on him, too, but nobody would know it when he kept wearing hoodies.

Both of his Champions stood side-by-side as their Commander looked up at them for a final inspection. They were still wet from the rain and looking slightly deranged. The glowing rituals would acquire some attention if people looked close enough. Jay didn’t have any on himself. He would’ve inscribed some, but they ran out of narrative prep-time in the laundromat. At the very least, they weren’t going far.

“Alright, I’m about done being a free charity over here,” said the laundromat man, slamming the booth door open to come out. “I don’t give a jack about you Junkers living like rats in Uptown. Keep that infestation outta here, you're scaring away good customers. You don’t want to piss off Mister Rubare, do you?”

“Funny,” Jay said quietly, the air wavering slightly around him. “You have five monsterized rats. They're right behind the dumpster out back. Shouldn’t you deal with those before you talk to us?”

The laundromat man glared daggers at Jay.

“Is it a thing that nobody important recognizes Jay on the first meeting?” Rick asked Casey. “Because if this is one of those things, I might rate it higher than you losing your stuff.”

Casey growled. She eyed the laundromat man like he was a piece of filth not worth her time. She looked at most people that way, so everyone that knew her stopped taking offense. But the laundromat man puffed up with more anger. He didn't like getting looked down upon by a tall and beautiful blonde like Casey while having a short black kid and near naked ginger mouth off.

“I can deal with you punks myself,” the laundromat man said. “I got power from the devil flakes. If you don’t run outta here, I’ll give you hell!”

“As fun as this is to mess with a little guy like you,” Rick said with a leering grin, “let’s skip past the foreplay and get to what we’re here for. Call up Marco Rubare. Let ‘em know Rick O’Kelly and his boss are on their way up. Don’t stop us.”

The laundromat man froze. Everyone should know the O’Kelly Twins were Champions. It didn’t take too much Intellect for the man to connect the dots and realize the short black kid standing between the half-naked ginger and blonde was their commander. It wouldn’t take much more logic for the laundromat man to realize how outmatched he was and that he should ring up Mister Rubare.

But Jay saw a glint in the man’s eye that wanted to challenge Rick’s claims, which might be the fault of being YoAnna’s Champions. The subtle flex of reality-bending magic clashed with instinctual common sense.

All it would take was for the laundromat man to let his ego inflate bigger than it should. He'd recently started his Systemized journey to acquiring levels. He'd probably beaten some homeless Junkers populating the public spaces around Downtown. That one teensy taste of magic action could lead a man to make the wrong decisions.

“You are too weak,” Jay said with gravitas. “Don’t waste our time and call your boss.”

“Ah, ah, ah, fuck you!” The laundromat man roared as he did what he was told. He was so overtaken by Jay’s commanding power he wet himself as he struggled to dial the number and call someone that was close with the Rubare Family Boss. “Hey, there’s some clowns claiming they’re with the O’Kellys, and they’re acting like they own the place! I’m gonna show them a thing or two, but I just wanted to call in and let you know.”

Jay sighed as the laundromat man hung up and came out the booth angry and pigheaded. With a flick through his meta-g, he recognized the narrative Team Struggle was about to embark on. Despite the gloom Jay felt these days, especially with the Benefactors getting smarter and more dangerous, he couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Enjoy the climb, my Champions,” Jay said as Rick took a punch to the jaw that delivered very little damage. “You get to be action heroes. Do your commander a favor and lead me to Mister Rubare. He’s waiting on the fourth floor, Room 413.”

Jay didn’t put any magic or presence into his command. But Rick and Casey straightened and acted upon his request like they were machines awaiting orders to fulfill.

The shift in the [Starter Fighters] going from passive to ready-to-rumble was as simple as them leaning forward and looking at anything standing in the way of their commander as prey. Especially Casey. She didn’t even let Rick repay the hit he had tanked.

“[Haymaker]!” the laundromat man shouted, the air warbling with Systemic magic around his cocked back fist. He threw it harder and faster than any mundane human could.

Casey whipped out a single nightstick from behind her. She used the baton-like weapon to smack aside the attack and jab the laundromat man's throat in one smooth motion.

She stripped him of 100 HP without trying, a critical hit. At his level, he didn’t have much HP left. But Systemized could keep fighting where Systemless would’ve dropped.

Casey was a blur of movement compared to the laundromat man. She grappled his punching arm with her nightstick and wrenched the limb behind his back, her weapon bracing the armlock. 

Rick lumbered forward to the backdoor as Casey forced the laundromat man to fall in step behind Rick. Jay trailed in the wake of his Champions, feeling quite amused to see them work.

The apartment complex wrapped around a dirty lot where tenets dropped their trash for the waste disposal to pick up. The walkways leading to each flat were exposed to the elements where random families and a bunch of mobsters could look over the railings and see Jay and his Champions exiting out the back of the laundromat. The rain was falling harder now, drenching them as Rick moved for a backdoor that would lead directly to a staircase, the starting point of their climb.

“Did you kill the homeless Junkers?” Jay asked. 

The laundromat man sputtered, his  face turning red with pain as Casey cranked the armlock close to breaking the limb. He cried with anger, pouring common sense down the drain.

“Yeah, and I’ll kill you too if you don’t stop playing with me,” the laundromat man threatened. It seemed idiotic, but there were some people who could not stop being angry and dumb.

“You can feed him to the rats, Casey,” Jay suggested.

“Yes, Commander.”

“Wait, no!” The laundromat man flew two dozen feet with one easy toss from Casey. The man’s back slammed into the dumpster, rattling it and the rats feasting on the trash nearby. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Don’t do this to me!”

He screamed in the face of the five Level 3 Giant Rats, monsterized animals that have been affected by the devil flakes. So far, the trend seen from the apocalyptic spread happened to give humans Unregulated Systems with Class derivatives, turn animals into monsterized versions of themselves, or do something even more magical… it could bring to surface and empower the hidden cryptids and legends of the world. Out of those three Systemized categories, the monsterized animals were the least followed by the media even though they could cause the most havoc to regular people.

Jay gave the laundromat man a brief vigil as the rats tore him apart and feasted on his corpse. At the same time, the apartment complex fight kicked into higher gear.

“Try not to kill them all,” Jay ordered. “It’ll do more harm than good when we chat with Mister Rubare.”

“Sure, sure,” Rick said with a chuckle. He kicked in the metal backdoor some mobsters were prepping behind. The door folded like scrap aluminum, then Rick grabbed it by the edge and tore it from the frame, the hinges ripping away as the Red [Fighter] tossed the door aside.

“[Boomstick Parade], motherfucker!” shouted a Level 7 Shotgunner. He held a shotgun with two barrels and a gauge that was larger than 10. The barrels flared out like a blunderbuss. The Shotgunner blasted Rick’s chest consecutively with orange mini-explosives that slowed Rick.

While Rick dealt with that, Casey swung her nightstick over Jay and deflected a bullet meant for Jay’s head. Casey emitted the angriest growl Jay had heard from her yet. The near headshot might’ve reminded Casey of her sister’s situation. Or Casi was more protective of her commander than she let on. She glared up at three Rank 1 Hitmen aiming pistols at the Protectorates from the second floor walkway.

Casey dashed onto the dumpster's edge and bounded to the second floor walkway with a blur of speed that shocked the Hitmen. She kept using only one nightstick as she whacked the mobsters around with quick weapon strikes and snappy karate kicks. She sent one Hitman flying over the railing and crashing on top of the monsterized rats. That guy got eaten up next.

Rick finished bashing the Shotgunner’s head with his own magical weapon. The Systemized mobster laid bloody and unconscious, subdued but alive. Another mobster jumped in. Rick threw a backfist and a nonchalant hammer fist that dislocated the jaw of the Level 6 Enforcer before knocking him down with the second blow. The Enforcer was still coherent, but he raised his hands in submission, unwilling to fight the O’Kelly any further.

A Level 8 Bruiser tried to fly down from the top of the stairs, his body coated in anima as he yelled out a slamming-style Skill. Rick caught him. The slam attack blasted against Rick’s torso and forced him back a few steps. The smile on the Bruiser’s face disappeared while Rick cinched a bearhug around the man’s waist.

Rick squeezed and squeezed and snapped the Bruiser’s spine. The mobster squealed in pain before getting dropped like a sack of potatoes off to the side. The Bruiser remained alive, if only barely.

Rick led his commander to the second floor where Casey batted aside punches from a Level 9 Pugilist. The [Fight] derivative yelled out a combination of Skills. He threw a flurry of strikes at Casey, moving fast for a Systemized Rank 1. 

“You aren’t getting past me!” shouted the Pugilist in between Skill uses. “I’m the best golden glove around, girlie!”

Casey looked at the Pugilist like he was pathetic scum. Her icy blue eyes stared through him as if his soul was no better than a doormat for her to step on. She parried each of his punches with a single nightstick, the other still remaining slipped into the back of her toga outfit. Even when the Pugilist used Skills that coated his arms with yellowish anima for physical boosts, Casey swatted aside and dodged his attacks like he was a child.

The Pugilist spammed his Skills in hopes of getting a lucky hit. Most Skills didn’t have cooldowns and could get used back to back to back. Jay knew this intimately. In his earlier adventures, he abused the lack of cooldowns and gassed himself out by stringing too many combination-style attacks.

Jay was not surprised when Casey walked around the Pugilist after he collapsed from complete exhaustion, overdrawing on his Stamina to the point that he hurt his own Healtg and was vomiting on the walkway. He fell unconscious from pure exhaustion, utterly defeated without Casey throwing a single hit.

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“What’s worse?” Rick asked as they climbed the steps to the third floor. “Me snapping a man’s back? Or Casey making you feel pathetic?”

“The latter for sure,” Jay said. “You can recover from the snapped back with a System. You need therapy to recover from Casey staring you down and making you feel like a loser.”

Rick stroked his chin in thought as he took a high powered rifle shot to the forehead. He leaned on the [Resilient Juggernaut] Talent just before impact. The bullet left nothing more than a bruise and some small damage.

“I agree,” Rick said, swiping his fingers over the open wounds on his chest left by the Shotgunner. Rick used [Blood Chain] without calling it out, the Skill coming out a little weaker as he continued the conversation. “I think I’ll send Casey to my worst enemies from now on. If not her, there’s Emily. Or Hailey. Or Lilith. Or Gatanna. Hm. We have a lot of wicked girls in the Champions.”

Jay held his tongue as he looked at the latest enemy attempt to impede Team Struggle. Low Rank 2s huddled in between Jay’s [Starter Fighters] and the next stairway leading to the fourth floor. Jay was unsurprised by the gathering of new Rank 2s despite the recency of the apocalyptic devil flakes.

Reports from Agents of Change in the MPC and other agencies observed the devil flakes granting an Experience bonus to those outside of the pantheon. It seemed to only occur with Rank 1 Systemized who had the most violent or psychopathic tendencies. They would tend to be the first to get Systemized by the devil flakes, too, granting power to most criminals before everyone else.

Casey flew into the middle of the Rank 2 huddle with only one nightstick still. She also lacked any special Talent that gave extreme power to one or two favored Attributes. She also lacked an affinity, which gave that extra perk of magic that extended beyond their set of Skills. Jay didn’t know why she hadn’t taken an affinity yet, but he watched in admiration as Casey fought like a karate whirlwind.

“Let’s keep moving,” Jay told Rick.

Rick grinned as he strolled forward. He took a few hits, but he didn’t participate in the walkway brawl of one Champion versus a bunch of magical mobsters. Casey was both playing with her food and taking out some of her frustration on the lowly Rank 2s. While Rick and her didn’t always get along, Rick understood not to intervene with someone’s violent habits to work out their anger.

Rick only got involved when a mobster made a foolish attempt to attack his commander. With a flick of his hand, Rick wrapped [Blood Chain] around the offenders neck and yanked him into Casey’s warpath. That person got executed on the spot with a series of rib-breaking, skull-smashing, heart-stopping nightstick strikes that left the offender as a broken sack of meat frothing blood at the mouth.

“You abandoned us, O’Kelly,” said a deep rumbling voice. A large and barrel chested Level 30 Goliath stood at the top of the stairs leading to the fourth floor. “Look at us now. Rats on Uptown’s streets. We had it better down at Junkside, and now we gotta scurry under all the busybody’s so we don’t get in their way.”

Rick stopped to assess the Junker acting as the gate-guardian to the head mobster. Jay figured this was an eventuality. Not all of the more violent Junkers would stay in Junkside if they had special ways to slip past the military blockade and avoid eradication. There was also the possibility that homicidal Junkers played the long con and evacuated with innocent people without getting sniffed out by pantheon members.

Finding these guys had to be done by the Protectorates, because even if the American military had their own Systemized and a program surrounding it, they didn’t have the necessary Talents and Titles that made Protectorates so effective. Most Systemized outside of the Pantheon lacked [Analyze] or the [Identify] Talent and couldn’t see other people’s power levels, only their own, unless they were some sort of Scout-type or had a Class derivative where getting a [Analyze]-like Skill was a given.

All of these men fighting Rick and Casey had no idea how strong the Protectorates truly were. That and people had a hard time believing a few kids could commit so much death and destruction despite the Protectorates pulling this off back to back like a violently bloody Saturday morning cartoon. But Jay could hardly blame them since every asshole with a chip on their shoulder would get pulled by the reality-bending blessings placed on the chosen ones of the [Godling] of Challenge and Change.

“Can I take this one personally?” Rick asked Jay. “I know this bastard. He used to be Zion.”

“I’m not dumb, little Richard. I saw how you O’Kellys were trying to get good with the Uptown mafia. Cutie and Georgie didn’t see how you were making ways to use us and ditch us. Then you proved my point, and I got with the side that was putting Junkside first.”

“Funny,” Jay said. “Were you already here when the Roach King died for Junkside?”

“Who the fuck is the little girl?” spat the Goliath.

“Rick, take your time,” Jay ordered. “I’ll be having a sitdown with Mister Rubare.”

Rick steamrolled up the stairs and tackled the large man with his shoulder. He swept the Zion betrayer off his feet and took him on a ride down the walkway. They smashed through a wall. They smashed through a spare room filled with odds and ends. Then they smashed through another wall. They hit air on the other side of the apartment complex and fell into the rainy night.

The two Junkers dropped four stories to the ground punching each other before and after cratering the sidewalk with an impactful crash. It would be a more interesting fight for Rick since the Goliath had all of his stats in the right areas: Resilience, Strength, and Conviction. The Goliath even had a derivative Talent similar but slightly weaker to Rick’s [Resilient Juggernaut]. To the Goliath’s credit, their tank versus tank brawl had the Goliath having some advantages in the physical arena.

Jay waited where Rick left him since it felt improper not to have an escort. Right on cue, Casey showed up. Her toe-claws clicked across the cement walkway as she sauntered close to Jay’s side. Her toga outfit was gone, so she held her other nightstick in hand to avoid losing it. Her fuzzy orange tail looped down from behind the small of her back, between her legs, and up to her chest. It covered the important bits while the rest of her was bare skin. Or the blood of the mobsters she tore apart until she got bored.

“Couldn’t hold it in for long?” Jay asked.

“No,” Casey purred. Her sharpened irises looked Jay up and down. “The way your hair falls around your face when it’s wet does make you look like a cute girl.”

“I will find a spray bottle and spritz you,” Jay threatened.

“Fine, fine, I won’t mention it again.” Casey chuckled. She had a better mood when she was Catgirl Casey. “You should walk ahead while I follow you. Having me behind you will frame you more boldly. It’ll make you the center of attention.”

“I could have all the attention I want if I unbound my full power,” Jay said.

“But you don’t want to do that, my Commander,” Casey purred with a toothy smile. “You prefer the more subtle approach. It makes you more handsome when you finesse the world to bend over for you.”

Jay felt his neck heat up. It was weird having Casey flirt and be so playful with him. It felt dirty and wrong. But he liked it anyway. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Jay walked up the steps and turned away from the hole in the walls where the juggernaut versus juggernaut street action could be heard loud and clear. Jay used his regular five senses to feel the heat coming off of Casey’s body as she strolled with cat-like grace behind him. He listened to the delicate clack of her toe claws tapping over the floor and every swipe of her tongue over her soft lips.

He cheated a little with his spatial-g. He could see her stare down at him with an expression he didn’t quite understand. Maybe she wanted to sink her claws into his back and rip out his spine. Or maybe she wanted to do something else with him. Something less violent, and more intimate.

They found Room 413.

Jay knocked softly.

Mister Rubare answered the door. He was a man in his late forties. The sides of his hair was gray while the top was gelled back and professionally cut. He held a pot of spaghetti and pasta with his mitts, and was completely Systemless. The apron he wore suggested the chef deserved a kiss, which was something Jay wouldn’t be providing.

“We aren’t interrupting dinner, are we?” Jay asked.

“No, no, not at all. I’ve always made extra. Just in case the Mrs and kids want extra,” Mr Rubare said with a pleasant smile even while his heart was beating like a racehorse. He was very good at acting calm while using a mundane activity as an icebreaker. “You kids want to join us for dinner?”

“Smells good,” Casey said. “You did an excellent job on the pasta, Mr Rubare.”

“Well, my mom didn’t believe only women should cook good Italian. I had to learn, too.”

“Here, let me help then,” Jay said, taking the pot from Mr Rubare with his bare hands. It was scalding hot for a Systemless. It felt a tad warm to Jay as Mister Rubare stood aside for the two to walk in. “You can close the door. Rick’s catching up with some guy he knew from his old neck of the woods. He’ll be taking his time.”

Jay looked around with his eyes to reconfirm mostly everything he’d noticed with his spatial-g. Other than the hidden cache of guns, drugs, and piles of money, he saw nothing amiss in a warm and cozy apartment that was the size of two units combined. Plenty of space for a family of four with a small dog.

The little toy poodle yapped at Casey. She hissed at it and sent the poodle scurrying to the Rubare daughters peeking out from their bedroom. Mrs Rubare forced herself to smile as she glided toward the Protectorates and greeted them kindly. She offered Casey a coat with real fur lining the collar. Casey took the coat but refused the offer to wash up in the guest restroom.

Jay and Casey sat down and let the Rubares serve them spaghetti and pasta. In the meanwhile, Jay scanned the entire premise multiple times. But that didn’t satisfy him. He needed a way to shake loose the possibility that a magically blended bomb could be hidden from his spatial-g.

He thought about how he’d noticed the traps in the Godling Dungeon thanks to the perfectness of the trap designs and the shoddy nature of YoAnna’s domain. Despite her having so much power where she could destroy Texas, YoAnna lacked a fine touch when it came to creation. She was probably a tad better at it now but she was not in the position to show him or any of the Champions at the moment. Still, Jay first noticed how far reaching and pivotal his spatial-g could be when he scanned the shifting nature of the unstable domain.

Then Jay reexamined his time scanning for Yoroachian Warriors during the long and nonstop crawl through the Yoroachian Lair. It seemed almost impossible at the time until he noticed the very subtle ripples of an active lair growing, shifting, contracting, and altering reality around it consistently. The Yoroachian Lair was better put together than YoAnna’s domain even though it wasn’t a godly pocket dimension like the Toyreveler Dungeon. But everytime a ripple passed through an area Jay was scanning for hidden warriors, the perfectly blended spots gave away the warriors hiding in ambush. Just like the perfectly designed traps of the Godling Dungeon gave away YoAnna's tricks.

If Jay was a [Mage] with this spatial-g power, he’d probably spot the magic getting used to blend the hidden thing in the environment. But Jay was a [Freak], something akin to an extreme jack-of-all-trades.  He was attached to an affinity that mostly defined all that he could do magically. So rather than wish for powers from other Classes that might make things easier for him, he leaned on what he was already good at and tried to expand it in a new direction.

“Mr and Mrs Rubare, I’m going to consider you as my friends,” Jay said, breaking the small-talk Mrs Rubare was attempting with Casey– Mrs Rubare was still trying to urge Casey to freshen up in the restroom while Casey wriggled around in the borrowed coat, getting blood all over its expensive material.

Catgirl Casey could be a rascal when it came to playing with people and purposefully unnerving them. She had been keeping the Systemless busy while her commander worked on whatever was in his head. She had a good knack for spotting when others went deep in thought. She encouraged that mental exploration further, which probably came from leading very special girls like Emily, Hailey, and Macy.

So, when Jay finally spoke, Casey didn’t miss a beat as she followed after Jay’s statement. “This is to protect your family when he unleashes some of his powers.”

“Why do you need to do that?” Mrs Rubare asked with a strained smile. She fiddled with her daughters’ hair as if she would snatch them both and run as soon as the Protectorates proved to be out for their blood.

“I need to check for a bomb,” Jay said with a w-whisper to each of the Rubares’ ears. “I need you to continue acting normally.”

Mr and Mrs Rubare shared a look that said a lot about them. They were not good people. But they were devoted to each other and were prepared to face the consequences of their decisions. They were scared for their children, and Jay understood that, but he didn’t exactly empathize. They seemed like the type of people who would have other kids become orphans and smile happily with their own family.

Then again, who was he to judge? He was getting good at self-deception, too.

“Well, what do you say? This is some good spaghetti and pasta, or what?” Mr Rubare said.

“Very good,” Casey purred, flashing her fangs with a wide smile. The Rubare girls looked at her with a mix of fear and admiration. “Can I tell you about the details in the pasta that delights me?”

As Casey engaged with the Rubare with more small-talk, Jay played with the mental levers on his powers. He noticed that if he specifically concentrated on a combination of powers, he could link them together for a greater effect, as if there was more to controlling his gravity magic than just using them instinctually. His Intellect helped him be more mindful, bringing together the right tools for the job.

The result was seemingly godlike. The Systemless struggled to keep the charade going as Jay seized everything in their apartment unit, the apartment units next to them, the apartment units below, and the patch of ceiling above while releasing the limiters  on his terrible but powerful Title… [Devil of Gravity].

Jay dropped everything seized by his gravity sideways for a split second. Everything within Jay’s power wavered, tilted, or fell. Even a quarter-inch movement could be the difference between staying upright or crashing down.

The building groaned around them as the lights blinkered in and out. Even though Jay was moving mundane stuff, the widespread use of his power and the dimensions of the objects was extremely costly for his Mana. But he still had enough juice to use his [Emotion Wave Stabilizer] to protect his friends from the discomfort that would’ve slammed into them from his Title. He also took action as soon as he noticed a patch of the ceiling not moving as it should like everything else.

“[Dance Floor Relativity], [Graviton Wall],” Jay said quickly. He needed to move fast since his Chance fell to x1 CM. 

He launched the bomb from its perfectly blended spot and into the sky. Jay used a gravity dash pad to shoot the bomb up even faster like a ball out of a cannon. The object exploded a second later, shaking the apartment unit without doing any damage.

To the Rubares credit, they kept playing off the craziness around them, as if Jay shaking their home with gravity and eliminating the threat of a bomb above their apartment complex wasn’t worth their concern. They didn’t even pay attention to the fallen stuff lying in pieces or rolling around on the floor. They talked about pasta recipes with Casey.

Jay nearly nodded in satisfaction when he remembered the surveillance technology hidden around the room. Jay sighed as he excused himself and went around their apartment to clear all the wire taps and mini cameras. Once all of that was destroyed, he sat down and pulled, pulled, pulled his power back into himself and kept it bound again.

“So, Mr Rubare, who did you work with that might be the type of people who’d snipe a Champion? While using an office space of yours that'll get you paid from the insurance when destroyed?” Jay asked, retaking his seat with his hands folded in front of him. “Please be aware that Casey is the sister of the victimized Champion. And Casey’s mad enough to make orphans out of your children… if you refuse to cooperate with the Protectorates, of course.”

“On the wicked scar of YoAnna,” Casey said with a deep rumbling purr, her finger claws digging into the table.“Please don't cooperate.”

***

[Dance Floor Relativity, Level 30]: Reorientate gravity’s effect on yourself. Choose to extend a limited field for objects, willing allies, and/or enemies with insufficient Poise/magic defense. Variable mana costs from moderate to high. Dancing helps mitigate mana costs. Leveling up increases the range of field, effectiveness, and Perception scaling.

…

[Graviton Wall (Familiar), Level 30]: You and Kleo can bring down a square and thin wall of gravity magic. Anything that passes through this wall will undergo a sudden burst of increased gravity scaling with your magic capacity. The wall will fall parallel with the direction of gravity you or Kleo are subjected under. Kleo can manipulate and intensify the wall by distributing more mana. Forming the wall is slower for the Faerie Master. Variable mana costs range from moderate to very high. Leveling up this Skill improves magic scaling and enhances Kleo's control.

…

 [Emotion Wave Stabilizer] Talent: You passively exude a gravitational force that helps calm and steady the emotions of those you hold close or are amicable toward. This helps boost Conviction to varying levels of success. You can actively assert emotional gravity magic that deters the emotional manipulations or debuffs of an antagonist. Using this Talent boosts Conviction. Ranking up improves the Talent.

…

[Devil of Gravity] Title: The world knows you as the Gravity Devil, and you’ve exceeded their expectations far more than any sane or insane person should. You’ve pushed the boundaries of the System narrations and Chance. You’ve absorbed far more negative attention than most people on Earth, which may have you compared to earthly villains of your histories and stories. You’ve placed yourself at the center of gravitational events, and you’ve caused havoc, death, and destruction at levels that are so gruesome it almost brings to question if you are a supervillain masquerading as a hero. Regardless of your moral alignment, the significance of your stature and renown cannot be ignored. Thus, your powers as a Gravity [Freak] will become even more powerful and deadly as your progress further in levels and ranks. Your inhumanity is a paltry thing now. You will see a more aggressive form of evolution as you climb the ranks. Those around you, be they allies or enemies, will feel great discomfort unless you limit this Title with your own willpower or they have adequate Conviction to endure your devilish nature and gravitational presence. Without Conviction, others must have a unique level of willpower that is beyond the System to influence. Do note: the System will aggressively influence the Chance Modifiers of your enemies to put down a devil like you, for you are an antithesis to proper System narratives now. You are akin to an infant demonic prince who could become a Multiverse Demon Lord, a great source of evil in any universe or across many universes.