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Nero Walker, Book 2 Ch.65 (97)
🕑 Added 2024-01-26 23:30:01 +0000 UTCThe sound of the incoming arrow caused Rose’s eyes to snap up from her soup bowl. She looked up just in time to see Ms. Averett’s forehead sprout an arrow. As the woman’s body collapsed, Rose was already moving.
She had been trained for situations just like this. Her former teacher, Ulric, had put her through surprise drills many times. At first, she thought the man was a sadist. But over time, she had grown to appreciate his diligence. His words, ‘Be ready for the situation to change at any time’, had become a core tenant of her life philosophy.
A moment ago, she was enjoying lunch, but now she was running for her life. Instead of doing anything fancy, she just raced for the trees. Running away would just expose her back, and make the archer’s job easier. And anyone who could kill Ms. Averett with one shot wasn’t someone she wanted to run toward. So, she made sure to run perpendicular to the archer’s position, while doing her best to keep low.
She felt a few arrows fly near her, but didn’t pause or look back. She knew how to reduce the likelihood of being hit. Move fast, be decisive, and head directly to safety. In less than a handful of seconds, she was into the trees and hiding among the bushes.
Crawling, she moved around the campsite. She knew she needed information on what was happening.
Peaking out from under some foliage, she saw Sergeant Wesker fall forward, seemingly killed by an invisible assassin. Frozen in fear, her eyes darted around, looking for anything out of place. She knew the best way to shatter an illusion was to find the flaws.
She saw Lord Walker attempt to fight back. Rose had to admit the little lord could take some serious punishment. She winced as she watched him take an arrow to the chest. He then tried to hide behind that ridiculous shield he always used.
The fight seemed to pause, then without warning, she saw the little lord fire that pebble spell he always used. Her eyes widened as she saw a man dressed in black suddenly appear. The spell had turned the man’s legs into ground chuck. Choking back some vomit, she watched the man crawl away.
Moments later, the little lord emerged from behind his shield, charging toward the tree line. Rose was shocked, as the moron nearly ran straight toward the archer. She wondered what he was trying to accomplish. As expected, the archer punished him for his stupidity, and then she saw the mage appear.
As the fight progressed, she couldn’t help but be impressed with how the little lord kept getting back up. She had known he was crazy, but watching him face certain death with a look of annoyance on his face was terrifying.
Somehow, the little lord killed the mage. He actually sent one of those spike spells into the man’s face. Rose gasped in shock at the brutality. But the insane little lord wasn’t done. He shot to his feet and raced off into the forest. She watched in awe as the forest seemed to rip itself apart to get out of his way.
All of the sounds of combat died down as the conflict moved farther and farther away. Her heart was racing, but she remained hidden. She could still hear the man with the ruined legs crawling across the forest floor.
It was at that moment, a thought occurred to Rose. This must be another attempt on the little lord’s life. Now that the danger had temporarily passed, her brain had started working again. Questions started popping into her head. How many assassins were out there? What were their orders? Would they care about a witness? How the hell was she going to get out of here?
Looking over her shoulder, she saw the forest looming. Although she could probably follow the path they had made getting to where they are, it would be better if she avoided any obvious trails. Her eyes snapped back to the campsite, and quickly found the sergeant’s body.
As a plan started to take shape, she unconsciously smiled. If there was one thing she was good at, it was surviving. She hadn’t let that noble nonsense kill her in Dorchester, and she wasn’t going to stick around here and end up as collateral damage. As long as that crazy little shit bought her enough time, she had a chance.
Firming her resolve, she raced for the sergeant’s dead body. She needed a few things, her weapons, supplies, and most of all, that direction-finder.
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Nero ignored everything going on around him, and just focused on restoring his center. Instead of dropping into his soulscape, he used the technique Specialist Howard had taught him.
The idea was simple. You just breath in and out, while mentally working backward through your memories. It wasn’t nearly as good as deep mediation, but it was much faster. The most difficult part was trying not to replay moments. The goal was to observe time in reverse. Specialist Howard said that it helped you pay attention to the details, and improved retention of … something. Nero couldn’t remember the specifics, but he had payed close attention to the process. Nero had once heard the quote, ‘Details aren’t nearly as important as results’. He didn’t remember who said it, and he was 90% that he was remembering it incorrectly, but refused to acknowledge the irony.
Step by step, he worked through everything he had gone through, but in reverse. And as time passed, he felt himself becoming more centered. The muscle aches along with joint pains slowly vanished, and his thoughts seemed to clear. It was like a hangover recovery at super-speed.
Nero opened his eyes, and sat up from the ground. He still felt some pains in his chest and stomach, and realized that he should probably deal with the patchwork healing job he had done.
Checking on his companions, he saw Cathleen standing a few paces behind Nick and the sergeant who were over by the swordsman. Next to them were two bodies, the archer and the mage. He was surprised they had bothered collecting the archer’s body. Nero could hear them talking, but the crackling sound of the fire right next to him made his comprehension spotty.
Since Nero didn’t really care what they were talking about, he ignored them. Instead, he crawled over and leaned against one of the small logs they had been using as benches. He pulled out a canteen and took a long drink. The pain in his chest was getting annoying, and he bit back a groan.
Carving his internal healing spell, he mentally dove into his body. Normally, he just located the damaged area, and then flooded it with whatever the spell provided. And while he had never half-assed a spell-form during training, when he had been in combat, he had just spammed the spell without caring about the details. Now he was paying for it.
It took him a few minutes, but he located the problems. The muscles had healed poorly, and the organs were misshapen. Everything was ‘almost’ correct, but Nero wasn’t about to go through the rest of his life with a flawed small intestine.
With his eyes closed, he painstakingly repaired everything that looked weird. Using his psychic field, he ripped apart the damage portions, then let the spell do its work. He had read that the spell used his ‘optimal configuration’ for the pattern. There was a lot of technical babble, but Nero knew what they meant. His soul knew what his body should look like, Nero called it his spiritual DNA.
This world knew about DNA, and how biology worked. People here had even isolated the genes for different traits, like hair color and skin tone. Studies were done where they had manually changed those sections of a person’s DNA with complicated machines. But in order to make the change permanent, it would require soul surgery. And the only time THAT was legal, was for fixing developmental issues, or chronic conditions. Luckily, changes to the soul required a person’s consent, or acceptance. A person had to ‘let’ the surgeon into their soul, or it was nearly impossible for the surgeon to accomplish anything.
While Nero’s mind wandered, he methodically healed himself. When he finally ran out of things to fix, he opened his eyes and took a deep breath. Standing up, he did some stretches to check his work. Everything seemed in order, but he opened his identity to double-check.
Name
Nero Walker
Level
12
Race
Human
Growth
26%
Tier
1
Condition
98%
Age
14
Center
62%
Body
3
Mind
5
Soul
2
Confluence
10
Stars
0
Pillars
1 / 1
Well, it wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. Time and rest would probably fix whatever he missed. Nero closed his identity, then decided to head over to see what his companions were up to. He was still carrying his canteen, and his smile was wide and confident as he sauntered over to the group.
As he got closer, the conversation they were having became easier to hear.
Nick was standing with his arms crossed, looking very unhappy. He said, “I can track her. I’ve been training with her for the past week. So, I’ve got a pretty good read on her essence signature. But is it really worth it? I think we should just head straight for Captain Angelton. He needs to know what happened here as soon as possible. I am more than capable of finding him through a simple scry. And I think Specialist Howard should be able to feel me reaching out if we get close enough. If we leave soon, I should be able to feel them a little after dark, if we manage to maintain the pace we have been keeping.”
Sergeant Wesker nodded, then replied, “I suppose that is probably the smart play. But, it just feels wrong to leave Vikander on her own. The likelihood of her surviving without our help is nearly zero.”
Cathleen was maintaining watch, her eyes scanning the forest. But she still voiced her opinion without even looking at the two men. “She abandoned us. And we don’t know for sure that she wasn’t involved. Someone gave away our position, and considering the fact that we all were targeted, she is the most likely suspect.”
Nero listened with a smile. This entire world really needed to have some better entertainment. No one was capable of thinking like a villain. Anyone who had watched a spy movie, ANY spy movie, should have realized they had been set up. But just to be safe, Nero figured he should double check with their prisoner.
Walking around the group, Nero approached the swordsman. Someone had healed the man’s legs, it was probably Nick, but they had left him still pinned to the tree by Nero’s sword. At first, Nero was surprised to see the man still had his knives, but then he remembered personal spaces and figured out why they hadn’t bothered to search him.
He only managed two steps, before he heard Nick ask, “Well, what do you think Nero?”
Nero turned to face his companions, they were all staring at him. Everyone looked so serious, and Nero felt a little annoyed at their tone.
Scoffing, he asked, “Not even a ‘thank you’? Or how about, ‘I’m so glad you are so amazing. If it weren’t for you being an un-killable bad-ass, then I’d be dead. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know immediately. I owe you my life!’ But, I’d settle for a ‘thank you’.”
His rant was met with shocked faces from Nick and the sergeant, but Cathleen just smirked. She said, “Un-killable bad-ass, huh? I’m pretty sure I’ve put you down enough times for you to be an honorary dead man. I’d keep that pride in check little lord, it will get you killed.”
Nero looked at the woman fondly, his smile full of warmth, and said, “If I hadn’t pulled an arrow out of your skull a few hours ago, that might have been intimidating. But now, I just find your insults adorable. I’m so glad that you are the way you are.”
Nick angrily interrupted their bickering. “We don’t have time for this! We need to decide what we’re going to do. Don’t you realize how screwed we are?” he asked in a voice tinged with panic.
Nero replied, “Calm down. We’re not screwed at all. I heard you can track Rose. She obviously took the direction-finder because she thought everyone was dead. I doubt she was involved, she’s probably running for her life. But even if we can’t find her, we can still locate Dorchester. That’s where we have to go anyway.”
Sergeant Wesker spoke up, “No, we need to head to the Captain. He’ll have a camp set up by now, along with a communication crystal. And if there are more assassins out here, he’ll need to know about them as soon as possible.”
Nero shrugged as if Wesker’s opinion barely mattered, and then pointed at the swordsman. The man was still wearing his black mask, and sitting in silence. “What did my prisoner have to say?” asked Nero.
Nick replied, “Nothing. When I wasn’t able to resuscitate his companions, he went silent.”
Nero turned to the man, and smiled. Taking a few steps forward, he looked down at the man. Crouching down, Nero gave the man’s masked face a hard stare and said, “You’re going to start talking. Right now. Or you are going to be helping me answer some questions about how the human body reacts to several of the obscure spells I’ve read about. You understand what I’m telling you?”
The man squirmed and said, “You can’t do that. That’s illegal.”
Nero raised an eyebrow and replied, “You just tried to kill us. More importantly, you tried to kill ME. You think I give a fuck about the laws inside Dorchester right now? We’re in the wilds. As long I leave your body for the monsters, whose to know?”
The man started looking over Nero’s shoulder, trying to see if anyone would speak up in his defense. Nero just kept the smile on his face, and let the tension build. ‘This is just like a movie. It’s too bad I don’t have a table full of knives or something, or the fantasy equivalent of a car battery with jumper cables,’ he thought.
After letting the swordsman stew for a few seconds, Nero hardened his tone and asked, “How did you know where we were?”
The man seemed to be debating whether or not to answer. Nero stood up, and walked closer. The man froze, and Nero leaned over to stare directly into the mask. He’d seen plenty of cop shows, and the first thing he had to do was strip the man of his dignity before he’d break.
Reaching out quickly, Nero grabbed the man’s face, slamming his head into the tree trunk. Then Nero ripped the mask off his head, and stared into the man’s eyes.
Nero’s cold stare burrowed into the man. “I’m going to ask you just one more time. How did you know where we were?”
The man’s face twisted between panic and terror. His eyes were darting around, looking for help. But Nero reached out and grabbed the man by his chin and forced him to look into his eyes.
Stuttering, the man said through squished cheeks, “We were given your route, along with a communication crystal which connected to a mage who was scrying you. We knew where the probable camp sites were, and we just had to wait for you to come to us. Jerry took care of your misdirection ward.”
Nero pushed the man’s head back into the tree, then took a step back to stare down at him. Now that the man had cracked, he had to develop a report with him. Without a partner, he’d have to be both the bad cop, AND the good cop. Internally, he thanked the many hours of ‘Brooklyn 99’ he had watched. The key was to act like a bipolar best friend. It was imperative that the man stay off balance.
He crossed his arms and asked gently, “Listen man. You don’t have to die. Let’s start with something simple. What’s your name?”
The man’s face fell, and he muttered, “Mike. My name’s Mike. I’m so sorry. We never should have taken this job.” Then the man started crying.
Nero watched, surprised to see a grown man sobbing. ‘Holy shit. That actually worked? The guy didn’t even ask for a lawyer. I’m really good at this!’ he thought with pride.
Comments
Richard Fields
Fucking Brooklyn 99 I love it.
Oluwadarasimi Ogunshote
Wonder how the others are reacting to Nero acting like this?
