Reborn on a Systemless Earth... With a System: Vol. 2 (Comedy LitRPG), page 15
Francis shrugs. “It’s alright. It’s not terrible. I guess I just exaggerate sometimes.” Never in any of his speech does he take his eyes off the game.
Brett looks at me. “Francis is on my side, now, you see? I didn’t kidnap him. He joined me on his own free will. Now we’re best buds on the battle bus together.”
“Francis... is that true?”
He does not look at me, nor does he answer.
Anger boils up inside of me.
So much anger that I know it’s for more than just this incident. It’s for everything I’ve experienced. All the lies and deception that were covered up in my past. All the regrets I’m supposed to have that I can no longer remember. All of it.
“AAAAAARGH!”
I let out my loudest pirate cry, and then deliver a shocking blow, a mega-punch to the TV. It shatters into a million pieces and almost all light in the cabin is extinguished.
“Hey, bruh, that was my TV!” Brett shouts.
Francis sighs. “God, thank you.”
“No need to thank The Goddess,” I say. “Thank only your friend Eryk.”
He rolls his eyes. But he does stand up and leave the cabin with me.
“But... My dead man’s switch!” Brett shouts, following us out and back into that room where countless pirates still stand (and Abby, who has been eerily quiet for some reason.) “You’ll be ruined! The entire economy of Santa Barbara will be crippled! If Francis leaves, I’ll destroy it all.”
“No,” I say. “You’re coming back to Santa Barbara with us. All of you are.”
“You’re not going to kill him?” Abby asks.
“No. My punishment for him will be much worse: I am making him regent of Santa Barbara when I depart the city. He will rule in my stead and keep the people safe.”
“You WHAT?” both Abby and Brett shout at the same time.
“Here is the plan I have realized,” I explain. “Brett is a base fool with nothing but his own desires to attend to. He wants more power, so I will give it to him. But if he engages in cronyism, or degrades the foundations of Santa Barbara, he will be executed immediately. I trust he will keep the economy in check better this way. And he already knows enough about my power to know that I am truthful about this.”
Brett stares at me. “I...”
“As for his dead man’s switch, we will hire the world’s greatest minds to disable it while he is alive. But if something goes awry before that, then there is nothing to be done. We simply have to prepare the people for the possibility that their finances will be permanently locked away one day.”
“You... But you’re the King. You can’t just let everyone...”
“My goal isn’t about being a good King or being popular,” I say. “I’m trying to become an S-Rank Hero, and that’s at whatever cost.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Francis says. “He told me that on his homeworld he slaughtered entire cities just to gain EXP.”
I most certainly did not tell him that, but it convinces everyone nonetheless.
Abby, too, is dumbstruck. “All of this... You won’t just kill him right here and now?”
“Well, I have a feeling he’ll be a capable ruler, especially knowing that death is just around the corner if he isn’t.”
For a second, I see the face of King Bodhi back on Abby. “That’s pretty wise.”
“I know.”
The pirates all surrender immediately, and soon Delta and the rest of the pirate milita have boarded the cruise ship as well.
The battle is over.
Finally.
“Francis... I’m so glad to see you. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
He shrugs. “Whatever.”
“Whatever?”
“Nothing. I’m glad you rescued me and stuff.”
...Hmm.
This doesn’t feel as resounding a victory as I had hoped.
104: Saying Our Parting Farewells to Santa Barbara
All in all, the Battle of San Miguel Island was a resounding success on my path toward becoming an S-Rank [Adventurer].
I gained more experience in the battle than at any other point in my journeys on Earth so far, and that’s saying something considering that practically every day so far has seen me battling something or someone—Buddy the car dealership man, a bear in the woods, underground pro wrestlers, the Persian Mob, the Wine Mom Cult, and constant waves of surfers who dislike shoobies... Now, and entire army of surf pirates have been defeated or otherwise apprehended, and I am King of Santa Barbara.
I will be leaving this place, even though I am its monarch... It feels very wrong to do, but I have other paths to take in my life, and my people will surely understand. A shoobie I am... NOT.
Most importantly, however, I gained an absolutely gargantuan amount of Destiny Points.
Minus the 30 I spent to level up before the non-fight with Brett, I gained so much that it’s almost incomprehensible. Before the battle, I had [79 DP].
Now...
Now I have [201 DP].
I have a feeling that Destiny itself has understated how many foes I defeated in the battle at sea and unfairly attributed some of those victories to others. But oh well.
I can now level up almost 7 times. That’s almost halfway there to reaching B rank in just one day.
What a hero I am.
And yet...
Somehow, in some ways, I feel like a villain too.
But I push that out of my mind and decide not to think about it anymore, lest I encounter something darker than I wish to confront at the moment.
Right now, all that matters is that I am standing on the beach with Francis, Delta, and Abby, truly the three greatest allies I have met since I came to Earth.
“Thank you for helping Santa Barbara,” Abby says to us. “You three are the greatest heroes the kingdom has ever seen... and I was nearly its downfall.” Her crestfallen expression tells all. She feels like a failure, like her foolhardy attitude allowed corrupt bureaucrats to nearly topple her nation and let her throne be taken from her.
I offered to return the crown to her and to erase all the grandstanding proclamations I made about making Brett my hostage-regent, but she refused it. No need for any of that sort of nonsense, she said. Her time as a royal was over.
She looks up and reaffirms that stance with her expression alone. “I’m a Surf Ronin now. So I must wander.”
“Why don’t you wander with us?” Delta asks. “Join the Systemless Squad and balance out our overbearing masculinity.”
“No thank you, ma’am,” says Abby. “I think I have a different destiny. I will not be a part of the Systemless Squad. Not now, not ever. But, if I may, I wish to travel the lands and tell the world about you. I wish to spread the message of the Systemless Style, the sheer coolness that you three exude as you go from place to place, solving the world’s problems.”
“Well, so far just California’s.”
“And I expect, much more than that,” Abby says. “How far do you plan for your travels to take you? Across the United States?”
Francis and Delta exchange glances.
“We’re working on it,” says Francis.
“They are providing me a valuable service by helping me become acquainted with Earth and giving me opportunities to level up,” I tell her. “They are the best friends I could ask for.”
“I’ve never had a friend before,” Abby says. “I spent all my childhood years fighting in the revolution, and then I became King by the time I reached puberty. My whole purpose in life has evaporated... and now I have a new one.”
“You’re wrong,” Delta says.
“What?”
“We’re your friends. So you have three of them now.”
Wow, DELTA said that? I’m seriously impressed.
Also, twelve hours ago, this girl was trying to have us enslaved for her empire. But I guess friendships are peculiar like that sometimes.
“Well then, I’ll see my friends some other time,” Abby Faulkner says. “If destiny allows our paths to meet again.”
She hops on her surfboard and rides out towards the sunset, far past the horizon.
It’s been a long two days here in Santa Barbara.
I’m a [Demigod], I’m an [Adventurer], and now I’m a King. The whole world is ahead of me. But the only thing I care about... is becoming an S-Rank Hero!
Francis, on the other hand...
He looks a little bummed out. But at least he’s feeling better than when we freed him from captivity. Poor Brett must have tortured him so much with that evil Fortnite game.
“Where to next, Francis?” I ask.
He gulps. “Los Angeles.”
“The very Los Angeles that is spoken of constantly in the media that I have consumed since arriving here?”
“Yes.”
Delta frowns more than usual. “Los Angeles. Francis, are we—“
“Wait,” Francis says. “Actually, I think we should make a pit stop first. The Amtrak train’s going to go through a lot of awesome spots before we get to L.A., so we might as well stop at them and get Eryk a few more Destiny Points for discovering new locations. By the way, how many do you have now?”
“About two hundred.”
“...” Francis’s mouth opens, and apparently refuses to close.
“Also, I ranked up to Rank C during my fight with King Bodhi. Now I am Level 2.”
“So that’s... about 1200 Destiny Points before you reach Rank A, and about 3700 before you reach Rank S if my math was right?”
“Your mathematics skills, and memory, are superb.”
“Thanks.” Francis points forward. “Well then, let’s catch the last train and make our way down the great state of California! We can stop in, I don’t know, Simi Valley or something.”
“What the hell is in Simi Valley?” Delta asks.
“Uh... I’m not sure. Probably something cool that Eryk will like? Food, maybe?”
I have no idea what a Simi is, so I simply nod and comply. That’s what I am best at in situations like these.
Sometimes it feels like the Systemless Squad is not as well-off as we would like it to be, but nonetheless, we are going forward with the adventure with great power! Time to be heroes!
104.1: The Agency
“Report, now.”
The hologram flickers into view, and Agent Z sighs.
Director A begins, as usual, chewing Agent Z out with one of the rapid-fire rants that he’s become quite famous for in his time as leader. Agent Z might feel like this is an important message he’s trying to get across, except that he’s speaking entirely in Xhosa and Agent Z knows absolutely none of that.
Agent Y, standing precariously off to the side where the hologram camera may not see him, probably understands better. He grew up in Durban, at least. Z’s from Cape Town and it’s not her fault that her folks brought her up entirely in English and Afrikaans. She’d been just as fine learning anything else, but she missed that window.
“Can you help me out here?” Z whispers to Y.
Y shakes his head. “Can’t help, don’t you know?”
Agent Y and his awful quirk with this “don’t you know” business. Just the worst. Why did he have to be picked to be her partner? Why did Director A always have to chew her out about everything? Why did she even join the Secret Service to begin with?
“And with that out of the way,” Director A suddenly says in English, “Thank you two morons for accidentally saving the day.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Agent Z asks.
“Keeping tabs on that Solbourne of yours might just get us a real snack.”
“Uh-huh.”
“...You don’t know why, do you, Agent Z?”
Agent Y steps into the frame and says, “No, she doesn’t, don’t you think?”
“I, uh, don’t know why,” she admits.
Director A sighs, and very nearly launches into another rant in Xhosa, but instead says, “We got the tests back from the blood sample on Solbourne. It confirms what we suspected. He’s not human, just like the others.”
“Well, not human like us,” Agent Z corrects. “They’re still mostly the same.”
“Homo sapiens sapiens and Homo sapiens neanderthalensis are mostly the same, but they’re still different enough that it matters. These people, though... They’re more like Homo sparus. A whole new species that just happens to look the same on the outside.”
“We already knew that much from our prelims.”
“The full blood tests went far beyond that, Agent Z. They showed rapid healing and cell growth based on almost all stressors. These cells have NO mitochondria. None.”
“...Blood cells don’t have mitochondria, sir...”
“Oh, sorry. Did I say blood tests? I meant that we sequenced Solbourne’s DNA and made some clone stem cells with it. No mitochondria in those either.”
“...Uh, okay,” Agent Z says.
“We need new samples from the other System Users, but since everything else in the blood samples matches, we can assume that all of them are just the same as Solbourne.”
“So that explains their power,” Agent Z says. “The others seem like they want to hide it, or they don’t even know in the first place. Solbourne, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care at all. He’s unleashing powers no human on Earth could ever achieve, and he hasn’t even faced a serious threat yet.”
“Well, maybe we ought to give him one, don’t you think?” Agent Y suggests.
“No, not yet. Not allowed,” says Director A. “We can’t let the U.S. know about these System Users. By the way, Agent Z. The CIA is going to call you later today. Make sure to make them think we’re chasing aliens. That usually gets them off our scent.”
“Yes, sir...” Always the one tasked with lying to the CIA. Always the one who has to play up the Americans’ huge ego and make them think like they’re the protagonists of planet Earth. What a waste of time. They’re going to find out about the System Users eventually, so what’s the point?
Especially when Solbourne is acting like a moron and getting himself crowned KING of a fucking NATION instead of laying low like Agents Z and Y expressly warned him about! What an absolutely dof situation.
“We’re going to have to do something about Solbourne, and soon,” she says. “If he’s caught, our whole operation will explode.”
“Agreed,” says Director A. “He’s going to where next? On his little road trip?”
“Apparently, they’ve stopped in Simi Valley for the night and they’ll stay for the rest of the day before they go to Los Angeles.” Agent Z sighs. “If nothing goes horribly wrong this time, of course. But it shouldn’t. There’s nothing in Simi Valley except the Reagan Presidential Library, which is hosting an elementary school read-a-thon in the morning. They probably won’t even visit. So it’s that, then... Los Angeles.”
“And that’s the final stand, don’t you think?”
“I know a way to get him out of suspicion,” says Director A. “In L.A., anything is possible. So I’ll do the same thing we did when we hid Post Malone.”
“Are you... sure that’ll work this time?” Agent Z asks.
“Don’t question your superiors. Last time you did that, you nearly jeopardized the whole mission, you—“
“What about the others, don’t you think?” Agent Y asks.
“Yes, Agent Z? What do you think of the other System Users? Is it time we make advances on them?”
“The other four are not a priority. The one in San Francisco isn’t a threat yet, and the one in Los Angeles has been well-hidden for long enough that the CIA probably can’t catch her. The two on the East Coast are... It’s harder to say. I’m worried about the one in D.C., but we have no way of making contact there without blowing it. And the one from Atlanta... Well, they went off the grid.”
“Off the...”
“We lost them, sir,” Agent Z says.
Thus begins yet another long, not-in-English rant by Director A.
Maybe Agent Z should have just gone into accounting.
106: News Report (Live)
“This is Roberto Kurtzman, reporting to you live for Fox 11 Los Angeles. We’re here in Simi Valley where we are going to interview, well, frankly, a national hero. We’ve just arrived at the scene, and police are still escorting people out of the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library. But here with us is this mysterious pink-haired man.”
The camera operator swivels around to point at my face, presumably beaming images of me directly to millions of watchers. Normally, I’d be completely unfazed by such a thing, but for some reason it has given me a slight chill.
The news man looks at me with the giddiness of a beaver facing its prey. “So, what’s your name? Who are you?”
“I am Eryk Solbourne,” I say. “I’m just a simple man making his way through the galaxy. Um, the Earth. Um, the United States.”
He doesn’t seem suspicious. Good. I had to rehearse that line with Delta a few times before she would let me talk to him. I think I got it right.
“So then, Eric—”
“Eryk.”
He looks confusedly. “So then, Eryk, take us inside your head. Tell us about the heroic deeds you and your friends performed when you foiled the terrorist plot. It was a three-day hostage crisis, but you subdued the terrorists before they could steal former President Reagan’s body to sell on the black market. Not a single casualty! It’s truly a miracle.”
“It’s all about gumption,” I say with my best lying abilities. “Sometimes, when a normal person gets involved in a situation, they’re called to stand up and do what’s right. That’s all I did here. The Weathermen Boogaloo will no longer threaten your great nation.”
“Most normal people don’t have pink hair and pink eyes and wear frilly skirts around while beating up armed terrorists, you know.”
“Well, it’s California.”
“But sir, Mister Soulborn, there—”
“Mister Solbourne.”
“Mister Solbourne, there are rumors that you were involved in the riots in Paso Robles last week. And there’s even reports about the succession crisis in Santa Barbara, where an unidentified pink-haired man—“
I walk away and decline to answer the man’s questions. There is just too much going on, and hopefully I can slip back into anonymity, as is my main desire in life (other than becoming the first S-Rank Hero in eons, of course).
Brett looks at me. “Francis is on my side, now, you see? I didn’t kidnap him. He joined me on his own free will. Now we’re best buds on the battle bus together.”
“Francis... is that true?”
He does not look at me, nor does he answer.
Anger boils up inside of me.
So much anger that I know it’s for more than just this incident. It’s for everything I’ve experienced. All the lies and deception that were covered up in my past. All the regrets I’m supposed to have that I can no longer remember. All of it.
“AAAAAARGH!”
I let out my loudest pirate cry, and then deliver a shocking blow, a mega-punch to the TV. It shatters into a million pieces and almost all light in the cabin is extinguished.
“Hey, bruh, that was my TV!” Brett shouts.
Francis sighs. “God, thank you.”
“No need to thank The Goddess,” I say. “Thank only your friend Eryk.”
He rolls his eyes. But he does stand up and leave the cabin with me.
“But... My dead man’s switch!” Brett shouts, following us out and back into that room where countless pirates still stand (and Abby, who has been eerily quiet for some reason.) “You’ll be ruined! The entire economy of Santa Barbara will be crippled! If Francis leaves, I’ll destroy it all.”
“No,” I say. “You’re coming back to Santa Barbara with us. All of you are.”
“You’re not going to kill him?” Abby asks.
“No. My punishment for him will be much worse: I am making him regent of Santa Barbara when I depart the city. He will rule in my stead and keep the people safe.”
“You WHAT?” both Abby and Brett shout at the same time.
“Here is the plan I have realized,” I explain. “Brett is a base fool with nothing but his own desires to attend to. He wants more power, so I will give it to him. But if he engages in cronyism, or degrades the foundations of Santa Barbara, he will be executed immediately. I trust he will keep the economy in check better this way. And he already knows enough about my power to know that I am truthful about this.”
Brett stares at me. “I...”
“As for his dead man’s switch, we will hire the world’s greatest minds to disable it while he is alive. But if something goes awry before that, then there is nothing to be done. We simply have to prepare the people for the possibility that their finances will be permanently locked away one day.”
“You... But you’re the King. You can’t just let everyone...”
“My goal isn’t about being a good King or being popular,” I say. “I’m trying to become an S-Rank Hero, and that’s at whatever cost.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Francis says. “He told me that on his homeworld he slaughtered entire cities just to gain EXP.”
I most certainly did not tell him that, but it convinces everyone nonetheless.
Abby, too, is dumbstruck. “All of this... You won’t just kill him right here and now?”
“Well, I have a feeling he’ll be a capable ruler, especially knowing that death is just around the corner if he isn’t.”
For a second, I see the face of King Bodhi back on Abby. “That’s pretty wise.”
“I know.”
The pirates all surrender immediately, and soon Delta and the rest of the pirate milita have boarded the cruise ship as well.
The battle is over.
Finally.
“Francis... I’m so glad to see you. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
He shrugs. “Whatever.”
“Whatever?”
“Nothing. I’m glad you rescued me and stuff.”
...Hmm.
This doesn’t feel as resounding a victory as I had hoped.
104: Saying Our Parting Farewells to Santa Barbara
All in all, the Battle of San Miguel Island was a resounding success on my path toward becoming an S-Rank [Adventurer].
I gained more experience in the battle than at any other point in my journeys on Earth so far, and that’s saying something considering that practically every day so far has seen me battling something or someone—Buddy the car dealership man, a bear in the woods, underground pro wrestlers, the Persian Mob, the Wine Mom Cult, and constant waves of surfers who dislike shoobies... Now, and entire army of surf pirates have been defeated or otherwise apprehended, and I am King of Santa Barbara.
I will be leaving this place, even though I am its monarch... It feels very wrong to do, but I have other paths to take in my life, and my people will surely understand. A shoobie I am... NOT.
Most importantly, however, I gained an absolutely gargantuan amount of Destiny Points.
Minus the 30 I spent to level up before the non-fight with Brett, I gained so much that it’s almost incomprehensible. Before the battle, I had [79 DP].
Now...
Now I have [201 DP].
I have a feeling that Destiny itself has understated how many foes I defeated in the battle at sea and unfairly attributed some of those victories to others. But oh well.
I can now level up almost 7 times. That’s almost halfway there to reaching B rank in just one day.
What a hero I am.
And yet...
Somehow, in some ways, I feel like a villain too.
But I push that out of my mind and decide not to think about it anymore, lest I encounter something darker than I wish to confront at the moment.
Right now, all that matters is that I am standing on the beach with Francis, Delta, and Abby, truly the three greatest allies I have met since I came to Earth.
“Thank you for helping Santa Barbara,” Abby says to us. “You three are the greatest heroes the kingdom has ever seen... and I was nearly its downfall.” Her crestfallen expression tells all. She feels like a failure, like her foolhardy attitude allowed corrupt bureaucrats to nearly topple her nation and let her throne be taken from her.
I offered to return the crown to her and to erase all the grandstanding proclamations I made about making Brett my hostage-regent, but she refused it. No need for any of that sort of nonsense, she said. Her time as a royal was over.
She looks up and reaffirms that stance with her expression alone. “I’m a Surf Ronin now. So I must wander.”
“Why don’t you wander with us?” Delta asks. “Join the Systemless Squad and balance out our overbearing masculinity.”
“No thank you, ma’am,” says Abby. “I think I have a different destiny. I will not be a part of the Systemless Squad. Not now, not ever. But, if I may, I wish to travel the lands and tell the world about you. I wish to spread the message of the Systemless Style, the sheer coolness that you three exude as you go from place to place, solving the world’s problems.”
“Well, so far just California’s.”
“And I expect, much more than that,” Abby says. “How far do you plan for your travels to take you? Across the United States?”
Francis and Delta exchange glances.
“We’re working on it,” says Francis.
“They are providing me a valuable service by helping me become acquainted with Earth and giving me opportunities to level up,” I tell her. “They are the best friends I could ask for.”
“I’ve never had a friend before,” Abby says. “I spent all my childhood years fighting in the revolution, and then I became King by the time I reached puberty. My whole purpose in life has evaporated... and now I have a new one.”
“You’re wrong,” Delta says.
“What?”
“We’re your friends. So you have three of them now.”
Wow, DELTA said that? I’m seriously impressed.
Also, twelve hours ago, this girl was trying to have us enslaved for her empire. But I guess friendships are peculiar like that sometimes.
“Well then, I’ll see my friends some other time,” Abby Faulkner says. “If destiny allows our paths to meet again.”
She hops on her surfboard and rides out towards the sunset, far past the horizon.
It’s been a long two days here in Santa Barbara.
I’m a [Demigod], I’m an [Adventurer], and now I’m a King. The whole world is ahead of me. But the only thing I care about... is becoming an S-Rank Hero!
Francis, on the other hand...
He looks a little bummed out. But at least he’s feeling better than when we freed him from captivity. Poor Brett must have tortured him so much with that evil Fortnite game.
“Where to next, Francis?” I ask.
He gulps. “Los Angeles.”
“The very Los Angeles that is spoken of constantly in the media that I have consumed since arriving here?”
“Yes.”
Delta frowns more than usual. “Los Angeles. Francis, are we—“
“Wait,” Francis says. “Actually, I think we should make a pit stop first. The Amtrak train’s going to go through a lot of awesome spots before we get to L.A., so we might as well stop at them and get Eryk a few more Destiny Points for discovering new locations. By the way, how many do you have now?”
“About two hundred.”
“...” Francis’s mouth opens, and apparently refuses to close.
“Also, I ranked up to Rank C during my fight with King Bodhi. Now I am Level 2.”
“So that’s... about 1200 Destiny Points before you reach Rank A, and about 3700 before you reach Rank S if my math was right?”
“Your mathematics skills, and memory, are superb.”
“Thanks.” Francis points forward. “Well then, let’s catch the last train and make our way down the great state of California! We can stop in, I don’t know, Simi Valley or something.”
“What the hell is in Simi Valley?” Delta asks.
“Uh... I’m not sure. Probably something cool that Eryk will like? Food, maybe?”
I have no idea what a Simi is, so I simply nod and comply. That’s what I am best at in situations like these.
Sometimes it feels like the Systemless Squad is not as well-off as we would like it to be, but nonetheless, we are going forward with the adventure with great power! Time to be heroes!
104.1: The Agency
“Report, now.”
The hologram flickers into view, and Agent Z sighs.
Director A begins, as usual, chewing Agent Z out with one of the rapid-fire rants that he’s become quite famous for in his time as leader. Agent Z might feel like this is an important message he’s trying to get across, except that he’s speaking entirely in Xhosa and Agent Z knows absolutely none of that.
Agent Y, standing precariously off to the side where the hologram camera may not see him, probably understands better. He grew up in Durban, at least. Z’s from Cape Town and it’s not her fault that her folks brought her up entirely in English and Afrikaans. She’d been just as fine learning anything else, but she missed that window.
“Can you help me out here?” Z whispers to Y.
Y shakes his head. “Can’t help, don’t you know?”
Agent Y and his awful quirk with this “don’t you know” business. Just the worst. Why did he have to be picked to be her partner? Why did Director A always have to chew her out about everything? Why did she even join the Secret Service to begin with?
“And with that out of the way,” Director A suddenly says in English, “Thank you two morons for accidentally saving the day.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Agent Z asks.
“Keeping tabs on that Solbourne of yours might just get us a real snack.”
“Uh-huh.”
“...You don’t know why, do you, Agent Z?”
Agent Y steps into the frame and says, “No, she doesn’t, don’t you think?”
“I, uh, don’t know why,” she admits.
Director A sighs, and very nearly launches into another rant in Xhosa, but instead says, “We got the tests back from the blood sample on Solbourne. It confirms what we suspected. He’s not human, just like the others.”
“Well, not human like us,” Agent Z corrects. “They’re still mostly the same.”
“Homo sapiens sapiens and Homo sapiens neanderthalensis are mostly the same, but they’re still different enough that it matters. These people, though... They’re more like Homo sparus. A whole new species that just happens to look the same on the outside.”
“We already knew that much from our prelims.”
“The full blood tests went far beyond that, Agent Z. They showed rapid healing and cell growth based on almost all stressors. These cells have NO mitochondria. None.”
“...Blood cells don’t have mitochondria, sir...”
“Oh, sorry. Did I say blood tests? I meant that we sequenced Solbourne’s DNA and made some clone stem cells with it. No mitochondria in those either.”
“...Uh, okay,” Agent Z says.
“We need new samples from the other System Users, but since everything else in the blood samples matches, we can assume that all of them are just the same as Solbourne.”
“So that explains their power,” Agent Z says. “The others seem like they want to hide it, or they don’t even know in the first place. Solbourne, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care at all. He’s unleashing powers no human on Earth could ever achieve, and he hasn’t even faced a serious threat yet.”
“Well, maybe we ought to give him one, don’t you think?” Agent Y suggests.
“No, not yet. Not allowed,” says Director A. “We can’t let the U.S. know about these System Users. By the way, Agent Z. The CIA is going to call you later today. Make sure to make them think we’re chasing aliens. That usually gets them off our scent.”
“Yes, sir...” Always the one tasked with lying to the CIA. Always the one who has to play up the Americans’ huge ego and make them think like they’re the protagonists of planet Earth. What a waste of time. They’re going to find out about the System Users eventually, so what’s the point?
Especially when Solbourne is acting like a moron and getting himself crowned KING of a fucking NATION instead of laying low like Agents Z and Y expressly warned him about! What an absolutely dof situation.
“We’re going to have to do something about Solbourne, and soon,” she says. “If he’s caught, our whole operation will explode.”
“Agreed,” says Director A. “He’s going to where next? On his little road trip?”
“Apparently, they’ve stopped in Simi Valley for the night and they’ll stay for the rest of the day before they go to Los Angeles.” Agent Z sighs. “If nothing goes horribly wrong this time, of course. But it shouldn’t. There’s nothing in Simi Valley except the Reagan Presidential Library, which is hosting an elementary school read-a-thon in the morning. They probably won’t even visit. So it’s that, then... Los Angeles.”
“And that’s the final stand, don’t you think?”
“I know a way to get him out of suspicion,” says Director A. “In L.A., anything is possible. So I’ll do the same thing we did when we hid Post Malone.”
“Are you... sure that’ll work this time?” Agent Z asks.
“Don’t question your superiors. Last time you did that, you nearly jeopardized the whole mission, you—“
“What about the others, don’t you think?” Agent Y asks.
“Yes, Agent Z? What do you think of the other System Users? Is it time we make advances on them?”
“The other four are not a priority. The one in San Francisco isn’t a threat yet, and the one in Los Angeles has been well-hidden for long enough that the CIA probably can’t catch her. The two on the East Coast are... It’s harder to say. I’m worried about the one in D.C., but we have no way of making contact there without blowing it. And the one from Atlanta... Well, they went off the grid.”
“Off the...”
“We lost them, sir,” Agent Z says.
Thus begins yet another long, not-in-English rant by Director A.
Maybe Agent Z should have just gone into accounting.
106: News Report (Live)
“This is Roberto Kurtzman, reporting to you live for Fox 11 Los Angeles. We’re here in Simi Valley where we are going to interview, well, frankly, a national hero. We’ve just arrived at the scene, and police are still escorting people out of the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library. But here with us is this mysterious pink-haired man.”
The camera operator swivels around to point at my face, presumably beaming images of me directly to millions of watchers. Normally, I’d be completely unfazed by such a thing, but for some reason it has given me a slight chill.
The news man looks at me with the giddiness of a beaver facing its prey. “So, what’s your name? Who are you?”
“I am Eryk Solbourne,” I say. “I’m just a simple man making his way through the galaxy. Um, the Earth. Um, the United States.”
He doesn’t seem suspicious. Good. I had to rehearse that line with Delta a few times before she would let me talk to him. I think I got it right.
“So then, Eric—”
“Eryk.”
He looks confusedly. “So then, Eryk, take us inside your head. Tell us about the heroic deeds you and your friends performed when you foiled the terrorist plot. It was a three-day hostage crisis, but you subdued the terrorists before they could steal former President Reagan’s body to sell on the black market. Not a single casualty! It’s truly a miracle.”
“It’s all about gumption,” I say with my best lying abilities. “Sometimes, when a normal person gets involved in a situation, they’re called to stand up and do what’s right. That’s all I did here. The Weathermen Boogaloo will no longer threaten your great nation.”
“Most normal people don’t have pink hair and pink eyes and wear frilly skirts around while beating up armed terrorists, you know.”
“Well, it’s California.”
“But sir, Mister Soulborn, there—”
“Mister Solbourne.”
“Mister Solbourne, there are rumors that you were involved in the riots in Paso Robles last week. And there’s even reports about the succession crisis in Santa Barbara, where an unidentified pink-haired man—“
I walk away and decline to answer the man’s questions. There is just too much going on, and hopefully I can slip back into anonymity, as is my main desire in life (other than becoming the first S-Rank Hero in eons, of course).
