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Psycho Duel Chapter 24: The Slaycast
🕑 Added 2022-11-16 01:51:38 +0000 UTC**note: sorry for any typos.***
By the time they left Atlanta in their rear-view, night had settled over the city under siege.
There were several electric blue battleboard grids towering into the sky. A trio of duels happening around Truist stadium. Psycho Slingers were attacking the shelter on the former baseball field.
“Hopefully some of those duels involve people like us,” Richard said.
“What do you mean?” Walt said.
“People who know how to play card games who can put up a good fight.”
“I hope that, too. But it’s not our problem.”
“We could make it our problem.”
“You have a daughter to get to.”
“You’re right.”
Richard sighed and grew quiet, watching the reflection of the city in his side-mirror.
After an hour, they were on a winding rural back-road in North Georgia. They only saw a few cars, other people making a run for the more rural and wooded areas. There was a lot of wilderness in both Georgia and Tennessee. One with the know-how could go off grid and maybe escape the apocalypse. For a time.
Next to Walt, Richard started rustling with his bag. He took out a protein bar and held it out to Walt.
“I’m good,” Walt said. Then he noticed some devices in Richard’s bag. What looked like walkie-talkies and some other gadgets. “What are those?”
“These?” Richard said, holding up a pair of the objects. “Portable HAM radios. About the only reliable long-distance communication if we completely lose phone service.”
Walt gestured at the strange, folded up pads. “And those?”
“Portable solar power banks with wireless and USB charging. If we lose all infrastructure, having access to power is going to be a huge problem. So these could come in handy.”
“Are you a bit of a survivalist, Richard?”
The old man laughed. “If I was, I’d be bunkered up in my bomb shelter. Not out here with you.”
At that moment, a blinking prompt appeared on Walt’s Slaynami interface. He nearly swerved off the road.
Incoming Slaynami Broadcast
Watch Live Feed?
Y/N?
“Pull over,” Richard said. “Let’s see what the invaders have to show us.”
“Right now?” Walt said. “If it’s important it will be saved to our media files.”
“If it’s important we may not want to save it until later.”
Walt had to admit he was intrigued. Curiosity got the better of him.
Walt turned onto a utility road and pulled over, getting close to the edge of the pine trees. He turned off the lights so that they would blend in with the darkness. He had parked far away enough from the main back road that they shouldn’t catch any attention from other travelers.
In the silence, they could hear the cicadas warbling in the trees around them. Even though it was night, the Georgia humidity was still relentless. Walt was covered in sweat.
He settled back into his seat and accepted the incoming stream on his interface. Next to him, Richard was doing the same thing.
The broadcast appeared, over-laying his vision.
#
The stream opened on a rail-thin host in a white button up shirt and suspenders sitting behind a table. His midnight black hair seemed to contain galaxies. It was cut in a textured French crop and was side-parted and slicked back. It was a sharp and otherworldly look combined with his round glasses.
“Hello and good evening, Slayers!” the male host said. “It’s your boy Mister Zero with my beautiful co-host LimeKiwi!”
Next to him, a young woman in tortoise-shell glasses and neon lime colored hair looked towards the camera. Her arms were covered in tattoos that blinked like neon signs. She flashed a smile and nodded. “Hi! It’s your girl LimeKiwi and welcome to The Slaycast!”
Mister Zero spun around in his chair and slapped the table. “A daily show that recaps the events of The Slaystone World Tournaments series! Your place to catch up on all the important duels and happenings of everything Slaystone! And today we have a doozy of an episode to kick off the first day of this year’s tournament!”
“Of course, “LimeKiwi said, “it being Phase One, all of last year’s favorites are off to a dominant start.”
A montage of Psycho Slingers played. It was basically an NPC kill compilation.
“Jackal8 has wasted no time in establishing his territory and control of Earth, number X two point nine’s Chicago,” Mister Zero said. “With his usual flair, he’s destroyed most major roads and bridges leading in and out of the city, only choosing to keep a few intact, which he will surely keep patrolled.”
There was footage of a Bloodhound Psycho Slinger in furs and chains using hound-like minions to cut off the flow of traffic on a bridge.
“The same thing is happening in San Francisco with NovaStar and her entourage,” LimeKiwi said.
A close-up of a glowing Songslinger who looked more like a virtual Japanese pop idol than an actual human being was in the middle of the Golden Gate bridge, surrounded by her alliance of Psycho Slingers. She was controlling a huge kraken-like minion to pull people out of their vehicles.
Then the screen filled with the image of Mister Zero.
“And here’s everyone’s favorite part of the cast for this phase, a little segment we like to call, ‘NPC Fails!’ Where we showcase the best Starter Deck fuck-ups in Phase One. Because nothing is as entertaining as an NPC with a Starter Deck. Except for maybe a monkey with a machinegun!”
The compilation started with a cloaked Thaumaturgist accidentally setting himself on fire with a miscast fireball. It was a bespectacled middle-aged man in a wondrous robe covered in mystical designs, cut from some unknown magical fabric. Patterned symbols emanated with an arcane glow.
Trickles of sweat poured down the harried Thaumaturgist’s face. He was in the middle of fighting for his life. His Health Points were in the single digits.
Instead of targeting his Psycho Slinger opponent, he accidentally pointed the targeting arrow at himself. The blunder was driven by panic. Some nasty looking hounds the size of bears were running him down.
He was trying to run away and tripped right as he was casting the spell card. At first, the targeting arrow showed that it was on one of the minions charging him. But when he tripped the arrow shifted to himself.
A fireball birthed at the tip of one of his hands and then curved up into his face, exploding.
When the flames cleared, the Thaumaturgist’s head was gone. In its place was a charred neck stump and a torso that was still on fire.
The studio audience erupted in laughter.
Mr. Zero guffawed. “What an idiot!”
Next to him, Walt saw Richard flinch. The old man shook his head, disapproving of the blatant cruelty.
“Should we turn it off?” Walt said.
“No,” Richard said. “This is a glimpse into the mind of the enemy. We need to acquire as much information as possible to study them. So we know what we’re dealing with.”
Next up was a young pregnant housewife who had somehow stumbled on a Starter Deck. She was in the middle of a duel on an idyllic subdivision street. Some of the houses were intact around them. But most were on fire or had been reduced to rubble.
The housewife looked like a cross between some cottagecore social media influencer and a Druidic forest witch. A crown of antlers hovered over her head. Green vines and leaves were woven into her blonde hair and her pupils were the palest shade of green. She wore a breastplate that was made of bark and she carried a whitewood staff. As she walked, grass and flowers pushed its way through the asphalt in her footsteps, growing.
Trembling, she leaned on her staff and tried to make sense of the cards in her hand. At the same time, a three-headed beast on four legs tore apart one of her minions, a walking tree that used its branches as spears and clubs.
Three sets of mouths bit into the tree minion and the heads yanked in different directions, pulling the tree into three different pieces. The heads shook, wringing the pieces of sentient tree violently before discarding them, scattering the remains of the minion in different directions like it was a destroyed chew toy.
The housewife Greenmage finally played a card. Tendrils of roots exploded out of the acorn that hit the ground. They grew into thick tubes and formed a shield around the mage, hovering and rotating around her.
But it wasn’t enough to stop the enemy minion. The three-headed monster jumped on top of her, its heads tearing through the roots and then into her.
Walt had to look away. He closed his eyes, but the horrible sounds of the mauling assaulted his ears.
“Looks like someone doesn’t know how to math!” Mister Zero said. “No way does Root Shield stop a Cerberus Junior!”
“And don’t forget,” LimeKiwi said, “that was a two-fer! Give her opponent an extra Psycho Point for the double kill!”
Walt could feel his blood pressure rising. He just watched a young pregnant mother die.
“You’re grinding your teeth,” Richard said.
Walt realized he was right. His jaw was clenched and he also found that he was digging his fingernails into his palm. He had left little crescent impressions on his life line and heart line, the creases on his skin. He exhaled. “These are atrocities.”
“Not too different from the Roman Empire,” Richard said. “With their gladiator spectacles. The Romans did love their bread and circuses. The society of the invaders probably shares a lot in common with the Romans.”
The final clip of this segment was a portly male teen who had chosen the Silentblade class. The lower part of his face, everything below the eyes, was covered in a dark menpo face mask. A hood covered his head and he wore leather Nightshade armor. He was wielding combat daggers. He looked like a ninja and some fantasy world assassin had mated and had a baby.
He was dueling a Songslinger, who was floating on a cloud and singing some rambunctious limerick while playing the mandolin. He didn’t’ seemed concerned about his opponent, who was below him, trying to figure out a way to reach the Songslinger.
“This Silentblade should be using his stealth!” LimeKiwi said.
“Instead,” Mister Zero said, “our witless rogue brought a close-ranged weapon to a long-distance fight!”
The Songslinger plucked his mandolin. Each strum manifested in a razor-sharp musical note. A projectile that flew through the air, cutting the Silentblade across the face as he tried to jump and stab the Songslinger.
But the Songslinger stayed out of reach on his little cloud. He rained more deadly notes on the Silentblade, injuring the newbie.
The Silentblade collapsed from blood loss. A death by a thousand cuts.
“I’d like to strangle these hosts,” Richard said.
Walt was about to respond when the next segment interrupted him.
“In our highlight for the night,” Mister Zero said, “an NPC has surprised everyone here at Slaynami Corp by defeating not just one, but two Pyscho Slingers!”
LimeKiwi continued. “That’s right, and not only that, but one of them was a Top 500 Duelist from last year’s tournament.
“Beth Simmons, a young Hellpriest prodigy who beat out some of last year’s serious contenders to secure herself survival rights and earn her family a new house in the prominent sanctuary of Romero Heights was defeated in an absolute slug fest by Walter Harmon, a Trial Voidlock just off a victory over the notorious Necromancer, Ricky ‘Z Fucker’ Armada.”
The footage cut to Chronico drone footage of Walt battling and defeating both Ricky and Beth.
“This is one of those rare instances in the history of Slaystone where an NPC has actually defeated such skilled opponents,” Mister Zero said.
“Our research team has discovered that Walt has some collectible card game experience,” LimeKiwi said. “It turns out that Earth, number X two point nine, has card games and not only that, but Walter Harmon was a former high-ranked competitor in one such CCG known as Mythic.”
“A former child prodigy, “ Mister Zero said, “Walt will be one hell of a Trial to watch. He only needs one more victory to become an official Psycho Slinger Duelist! In the matter of a few hours, he’s become a fan and patron favorite.”
“Will Walter Harmon be the first NPC in this world to achieve this feat?” LimeKiwi said. “Or will his chances of survival be crushed by one of our capable Psycho Slingers?”
“Only time will tell,” Mister Zero said, “but make sure to tune in tomorrow night for more updates!”
Richard looked over at Walt, eyes wide.
“What?” Walt said.
“You didn’t tell me you were some prodigy,” Richard said.
“It never seemed relevant.”
Richard sat back and looked out the window, tapping his fingers on the door ridge, chewing his lip. Then he stopped and looked back at Walt. “They might as well have put a huge bounty on your head. Every Psycho Slinger in the Bible Belt is going to be coming for you to make a name for themselves.”
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