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HC: Pacifist | Ch. 198 - Ticket Boy
🕑 Added 2024-01-23 12:52:23 +0000 UTCAs the meeting began, Cyclops took a seat and let BlueFire conduct the meeting.
Ogre's relaxed posture as his subordinates took the lead in addressing the other guild leaders confirmed Roth’s earlier assessment that Ogre was the general type. He was happy to let others manage as long as he could lead the charge on the battlefield.
"Ladies and gentlemen,” started BlueFire, “as you know, we have a ticket that will take us straight to the Hive King. I don't have to say how valuable this opportunity is. We have reasons to suspect that Pegasus was the one beginning the event, and their concentration on the Dark Abyss is probably connected to triggering it. Therefore, our best guess is that we'll be transported to that region as soon as we use this ticket.” BlueFire spared an ironic look at Roth. He didn't feel too happy about being seen as a ticket.
As BlueFire spoke, Roth studied the people around the table. One was a pretty young woman with black hair and blue eyes. She wore white robes and massive crescent-shaped earrings. They were so big and sharp that Roth suspected a rogue could have used them as daggers. Her attire made her look like something between a judge and a dentist. She sat next to a lizardman with blue scales and yellow eyes. His reptilian tongue occasionally came out and licked his eyeball. Roth wasn’t sure if this was a racial quirk that the player couldn’t control or if he was the kind of hardcore gamer who really lived his character’s backstory. He had a tower shield on his back and a mace hanging from his belt.
Then, there was someone in a black cloak whose features were hidden from Roth. He couldn’t tell the player’s gender. From their equipment, his best guess was that they were an esper. They sat next to a thin man in baggy clothes. His garments were blue, not sky blue, but ice blue, that shade of blue that easily passes as white. Sitting on his lap was a white fur ball whose species from where Roth stood he couldn’t identify. Whenever he breathed, a puff of hot steam came out of his mouth as if they were inside a refrigerator, even though it was a pleasant spring morning. He was the only one who did that with his breath in the tent. It was as if he had his own private weather.
Finally, there was a man who stuck out like a sore thumb. First, he had fully gray hair, making him the oldest man at the table. He also wore the simplest attire of the whole group, a simple black tunic, and no weapons. He also was the only person sitting alone at the table. Roth had spoken to him once on the phone, after he’d discovered Antioch. This was the leader of the most powerful guild in AstroTerra: Jaw-Long, leader of the Dragons.
"Will we be transported to a dungeon?" asked the girl in white robes. The way she phrased the question and the lizardman next to her did not flinch and kept looking up, told Roth that she was a guild leader and the lizardman her aide.
"We do not know. In fact, we're not even sure that the Hive King is an NPC," stated Blue Fire. It was as if BlueFire had thrown a stone in a quiet lake, and now ripples disturbed the surface. A wave of murmurs went through the room. BlueFire's conjecture also caught Roth by surprise.
"What makes you think the Hive King is a player?" asked Cerberus.
"Nothing in the event specifies that the Alien King is an NPC," explained BlueFire. "That added to the fact that it was probably Pegasus who started the event, and we can assume that it's not necessarily an NPC. However, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we have prey to hunt. We have a target to take down and it is within our reach; otherwise, the developers wouldn't have allowed this event to start. Stumbling upon a ticket to reach the Hive King only reinforces this. This event was designed to be ended, and we, ladies and gentlemen, are the ones who are going to finish it and scoop up all the rewards."
Greedy, excited looks were exchanged throughout the tent.
"Now, I will explain some rules that will dictate your participation in this hunt. Rule number one," explained BlueFire while counting the rules on his fingers, "The rewards of the hunt shall be split in half. Half goes to the Ogres, the other half to all of you. Your half will be split equally between you all." Ogre and Cyclops remained unfazed, but Roth didn't miss the sour expressions on some of the other players. The Ogres would get the lion's share of the rewards here.
"Secondly, everyone without fail will obey whatever leader is assigned to lead this expedition. Failure to obey will result in a hefty fine on the offender’s guild. So, guild leaders, keep a tight leash on your own people. Otherwise, you will have to pay reparations to us." Roth caught more than one guild leader staring down their subordinates in the audience, letting them know they would comply with this rule.
Roth guessed that the players who were smiling proudly and had a relaxed posture were probably with the Ogres.
“That goes for all members of the Ogres, too,” roared the guild leader. “Whoever leads has to be obeyed,” he said, quieting the chuckles and easy-going looks on the members of his guild. Roth could appreciate the fairness in this rule. It was a good way to increase cohesion among the hunting party.
"Finally, the last rule: Regardless of whether we fail or succeed in this hunt, there are no refunds.” Roth imagined how much the Ogres had sold the front seats to the hunt for. But for BlueFire to have such a satisfied grin told him that it hadn’t been cheap.
“Are the rules clear?” asked BlueFire. The girl in white robes, the player covered by a black cloak, and the old man in a black tunic all nodded. With this, Roth had finally finished identifying all the guild leaders in attendance.
“Very well, that leads us to the first point, the next big decision. We need to assign the party leader." As BlueFire said this, several eyes turned toward the player with a white fur ball on his lap. Others kept looking at BlueFire. “Before we vote, I would like to submit the Ogres recommendation. We recommend ColdHand to be the leader of the party.”
“I thought you were the one who was going to lead,” spoke Cerberus. “You’re a capable tactician. Why delegate this to ColdHand?”
“Take this as a show of goodwill on our part,” spoke BlueFire. “We want this hunt to succeed, and if one of you leads us, we believe it will be good for overall morale. Additionally, I lose my cool where Pegasus is concerned.”
BlueFire was a proud, calculating man whom Roth could hardly call a friend. He knew that the general of the Ogres didn’t look out for his best interests. However, after hearing him so easily relinquishing authority and admitting his weaknesses, he had a new level of respect for him. Any general who knew their limitations and was willing to swallow their pride was a fearsome opponent. Had Roth been this wise, IronIre would never have fallen, and Loki would never have been able to use and abuse him.
“I agree,” spoke Cerberus.
The woman in the white robe exchanged looks with the lizardman, who nodded. “We are willing to let ColdHand lead us. He’s a capable tactician.”
“Jaw-Long? Do you agree?” asked BlueFire.
The tent went dead quiet, and Roth could feel the tension in the air. Something told him that if this old man didn’t agree, his vote would be enough to cancel everyone else's opinion. The man remained silent and just gave the shortest of nods.
“ColdHand, do you accept to be party leader for this expedition?”
“What do you say, boss?” ColdHand asked the person in black robes.
“Go for it,” came the answer in a tenor voice. It was a man.
“I accept.”
“Very well. The floor is yours. I’ll give you the honors.”
ColdHand stood up, mumbling as he walked to where BlueFire was. He disturbed the slumber of the animal dozing on his lap, causing it to unfurl from its furry ball, revealing its thick and sturdy paws. Its fur, as white as snow, concealed a sense of strength and confidence beneath its adorable appearance. It was a polar bear cub! It was the first time Roth saw a polar bear in the game. How had this guy gotten it?
“Well. Let’s see… Hmmm… Ten. Seventeen. Six. Five. Fourteen,” the man mumbled uncomprehendingly. ColdHand seemed to be the kind of person who always had a million things running through his mind, and only spared a small part of his attention to the situation around him.
“Very well. MountainTop, you’re the lead tank,” he said, gesturing toward the lizardman at the table, “and Griffin, you’ll lead the medics.” ColdHand had a soft, flat voice, with no inflections. He sounded almost robotic.
“Roger that.” The woman in white robes responded. So that’s who she was. The leader of the Griffins. The main tank and the leader of the medics were two crucial positions in a hunting party. As long as these two elements stayed alive, the hunt had a chance of success. Even though they didn’t deal much damage, they were the buffer that allowed the rest of the team to stay alive. For ColdHand to entrust this to the two of them meant they had to be formidable in boss hunting. For both of them to be in the same guild, they had to be in a guild famous for completing difficult dungeons and hunting powerful bosses.
“Second tank will be Ogre, and third tank will be… hmmm… let’s see. Is TurtleShell here?”
A dwarf raised his axe in response. “Good. TurtleShell from the Cerberus will be 3rd tank.”
“BlueFire, you will command the DPS squad.”
BlueFire nodded courteously. Managing DPS was a crucial position in a hunt. Depending on how skills were rotated and the timing for important cooldowns was used, the difference in overall damage could be like night and day. At the same time, if the DPS team got too excited and drew too much aggro, the boss would stop focusing on the tanks and wreak havoc among the party ranks. Traditionally, the party leader assumed this role, but ColdHand had gallantly given BlueFire some face and assigned him this important responsibility.
“Cerberus, I want you and your squad to be ready to detach from the rest of the party and form a small containment team. Your goal is to keep Pegasus players from hindering us. Pay special attention to Zin and Anak. I don’t want those two anywhere near the hunt.”
“Jaw-Long, I have two missions for you. Mission one is Zin. Can you handle him?”
The old man nodded. Roth had heard the name before. It was the highest-leveled player in the ranks, and one of Pegasus trump cards. For ColdHand to delegate this responsibility to Jaw-Long meant that the old man could hold his own against him. He wondered why Jaw-Long wasn’t in the ranks. Had the old man chosen not to add his name to the ranks?
“Mission two… Where is the ticket boy?”
“The ticket boy?” Roth heard people around him ask. “What ticket boy? What is ColdHand talking about?”
“Roth. Come out,” called BlueFire. Roth took a step forward, eliciting curious looks from most of the people in the tent.
“Do what you want, but keep him alive. OK?” ColdHand said while pointing at Roth.
Roth had spoken to him on the phone, but this was the kind of person whose full presence could only be felt when one was in front of him. The old man checked him out from top to bottom. He had such an intense look that Roth felt as if he could peer into his soul and see his every secret. Somehow, the scrutiny of the old man felt heavier than everyone else's gaze in the tent combined.
“Ticket boy!” the old man called. His voice had a zing that made Roth think of a stern grandfather. Speaking after ColdHand’s soft, droning voice only made it stand out more. Roth grimaced at the stupid title that he’d been given by these people. Why had he become ‘ticket boy’ all of a sudden? He was pretty sure he and ColdHand were roughly the same age. Why was he being called ‘boy’? He could hear Mel behind him giggle.
“Yes, sir.”
“Come and sit here,” the old man commanded imperiously. “From now on, you’re not going to leave my side. Anyone who comes closer than three feet near us is dead,” he declared matter-of-factly. Everyone in the tent stepped back, even though no one was anywhere near enough.
Roth obeyed and meekly came to sit at the table next to the old man. Suddenly, he felt as if he was being punished by his grandfather.
“Why do we need ticket boy?” asked Griffin, curious.
“He’s the one who can get us all out of there. Also, he has some sort of quest related to this. If he dies, it can affect the hunt.”
“Hello, sir,” Roth greeted. He hadn’t expected to be assigned the number one player in the game as his bodyguard.
“We meet again, boy. A pacifist and a zoomorph, hey? Never heard of either. You’re an interesting young man.” Roth gulped, hearing how easily Jaw-Long had found out his class and race. “You’ll have to tell me more about those later.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Roth awkwardly.
“Very well. Let’s decide on our attack plan,” interrupted ColdHand. “Scenario number one. The Hive King is an NPC boss.”
Comments
Ender419
Thank you for this amazing chapter! I just hope Zin wasn’t able to eavesdrop on the full conversation just garbled pieces of it or does something to help support the success of the raid.
Coleman Bland
Nothing says success like a plan the audience doesn’t hear.
