Chapter 527: 227: Served Cold

Chapter 227: Served Cold

"It was rather simple," John said. "Magic powers means I can make a clone of myself and use it as my body while the real one is safe. But I found that copying me copies my inventory as well, and everything inside of it."

Dylan laughed, "So you get an infinite amount of items and don't even have to try. You know duplication glitches are against the rules, right?"

John waved him off, "How was I supposed to know that using clone duplicated my items? I never even noticed! Who keeps track of everything inside their inventory anyways."

"It's still cheating," Dylan said.

"It is not!" John shouted. "Everyone else does it! I don't see why I shouldn't either!"

"I guess it doesn't matter anyway," Dylan said, opening his menu. "You've proved what kind of person you are. So, are you done? Am I defeated enough for you? You've basically reset me to zero, so there isn't much more you can do."

"Not quite," John said. "You've got to agree to do things my way now."

Dylan rolled his eyes, "Jesus dude, give it a rest. What are you going to do if I say no?"

John barraged Dylan with another mob of coins. The death screen appeared again, Dylan instantly removing it.

"I'll keep doing that," John said as Dylan respawned. "I'll make sure you won't have anywhere to go."

"And if I just quit the game?" Dylan said.

John laughed, "You won't. You want this Vert thing too bad, I know it. Otherwise, you would have quit earlier."

"Or I just had fun," Dylan argued, despite knowing it wouldn't work. John's mind had long sailed past reasonable and made its way into narcissist territory.

"No one has fun in this game," John said. He flipped another coin. "So, do you agree?"

Dylan saw a glint of something in the distance and smiled. "No, I don't think I do."

John's brow furrowed, then he turned to look at what Dylan stared at. The tail end of a surfboard smashed straight into John's nose, sending the player flipping backward.

"Booyah!" Riptide shouted.

"Take that you *ss!" Sweet Dream shouted, jumping off Riptide's board and morphing into her chocolate form. Six globs of chocolate struck John in the face, dizzying his screen.

Riptide surfed next to Dylan, "Woah, dude. He really did a number to ya."

"Let's just get out of here," Dylan said. "No use fighting him. He's got infinite supplies."

"No problem, dude," Riptide said. The player held out a hand to Dylan, who took it and jumped on. Riptide spun in place, surfing over to Sweet Dream and picking her up as she morphed back. A moment later, the three players were on their way to Skyline, their faces grim.

Jack called Dylan on the way to the city.

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"What can I say," Dylan said in his best Dr. Zlo voice, "I'm evil all the way through."

While Dylan didn't let his defeat get him down (he could always recreate his gear), the loss of Skyline did leave a bit of a hole in his gut.

"D*mn," he cursed. "All of that work, for nothing."

Sweet Dream and Riptide could only nod. They'd also invested a chunk of change into the building, though not the time Dylan spent drafting up structures.

Skyline was a pile of rubble now; the structure cracked into multiple pieces and scattered across the wilderness. The city's skyscraper, the center and beating heart of the city, stood broken in half, the hero symbol at the top shattered. The roads leading out from the building buckled, exposing the various wires and power stations running underneath. A few NPCs walked around with stuttered steps, their bodies broken in multiple places.

"Sh*******t," Riptide said as he landed. "Dudes, what are we going to do now?"

"Rebuild, probably," Jack said, walking over to the trio. She stood next to Dylan, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him into a hug.

"Oh, um," Dylan said. He wasn't used to other people randomly grabbing him.

"Sorry," Jack said, breaking it off. "I figured you might need that after all the sh*t that went down today. Most people don't have to deal with lunatics for friends."

"Ha, thanks," Dylan said. He scanned Skyline's wreckage, looking for the signature landmarks that might show him where his base was.

"Your hideout's over there," he heard.

Dylan turned to see Dextra walking over to the group, anger on his face.

"To think this was all orchestrated by one nemesis," the player said.

"He'll get what's coming," Dylan said. He was too invested in finding Cass and Mabel to worry about acting as Dr. Zlo.

"I'm sure he will," Dextra said. "In the meantime, recover your items and then meet with me. We're going to discuss new plans for Skyline. I don't plan on having this happen again."

"Sure," Dylan said, turning to walk over to his base.

As he made his way over, the hole in Dylan's gut kept growing. He could make out the pieces of his hideout now, the mansion barely sticking out over the building that sat on its opposite side. There was no sign of movement nearby. No sign of Cass or Mabel attempting to do something about this wreckage. No sign of Brunhilde trying to clean up.

Dylan started to run, his feet picking up the pace before his brain could say anything. All of Dylan's memories with his minions were flashing through his head. The times the Jacques performed over-the-top stunts, the times Cass tried getting out of a crime, the times Mabel tried to seduce someone, all of them ran through the player's mind. Dylan picked up the pace as each memory passed, almost tripping as he stopped in front of the mansion.

"Cass!" Dylan shouted. "Speak to me!"

There was a cough in the distance. Dylan homed in on the sound and rushed over, finding pieces of the mansion's garage scattered throughout the wilderness. He stopped when he saw the Zlomobile, the vehicle intact. Dylan breathed a sigh of relief. If his minions were still in the car, then that meant they were alive.

Then Dylan saw the joke book on the ground.

"Cass!" Dylan shouted again, his voice desperate.

"Here, boss," said a weak voice.

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