Doom System Survivor: A LitRPG Apocalypse, page 27
There was something else. While the two of the Hunters had faded, the Bunny teen was still there, her absent gaze fixed on Hiro, her hand glowing and shaped into a finger gun.
Hiro’s phone buzzed, and he hastily checked the message from his Companion.
44
THE BIG APPLE’S AGORA
Hiro stood over Bianca’s fuzzy pink shield. It felt wrong taking it, but it was Roulette Accessory, and as he had learned, that sort of thing could go a long way. As Soul Essence rushed into him, a series of boos played in his head from what he assumed had to do with Stolen Valor.
“That’s new,” Hiro said as he remained there for a moment looking down at her dead body, a pit in his stomach. He knew who was at fault here, a combination of the Doom System itself and Hiro for going along with Bianca’s bold suggestion, but he also had experienced enough since the gates gave out superpowers back in January to know that screaming at the sky did nothing.
Did it feel cathartic? Sometimes, but doing something like that, he could alert others to his position, and with monsters, Hunters, Revenants, potential Sentries, and the chance for a Player Killer, Hiro knew it was best to bottle his grief.
But I can’t leave her here, not like this. Even if it was risky remaining out in the open, Hiro had to put Bianca’s body somewhere, and he had an idea of a place that would work.
Hiro picked up the shield. It attached to his arm through a fuzzy tentacle that seemed to have a mind of its own. The shield was warm, yet light, which was surprising seeing what the shield was capable of repelling.
The prompt came, wild as ever.
Roulette Accessory: {Bianca’s Fuzzy Pink Shield}
Rank: B
Description: The concept of the modern hair transplant began in the 1930s, when a Japanese doctor named Shoji Okuda developed a method to restore hair by transplanting follicles through small grafts of skin. His techniques were later modified in the 1950s by Dr. Norman Orentreich, famous for his concept of donor dominance, by demonstrating that hair follicles taken from the back or the side of the head would grow when inserted into balding spots.
It was another forty years before new techniques emerged, starting with Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT), which saw a strip of scalp removed from the donor area and the hair follicles then placed in the recipient area.
In the early 2000s, a method known as Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE) emerged, which saw the follicles extracted with a tool from the donor area, eliminating the need for any linear incisions.
Following FUE was the method known as Direct Hair Implantation (DHI), which sped up the time between follicle extraction and placement in the recipient area using a unique tool known as a Choi Implanter Pen, leading to a more natural look and faster recovery times.
It was a modified Choi Implanter Pen that first collected the pink Himalayan yeti hairs used to create Bianca’s Fuzzy Pink Shield now in your possession.
Hidden in the famous Tibetan Buddhist phrase, om mani padme hum, was the key to a location of a pink Himalayan yeti breeding ground one hundred miles west of the Tibetan capital of Lhasa, a location known only by members of the Nyingma Sect.
It was first revealed to the west by Madame Alexandra David-Neel in the 1920s after her encounter with a pink Himalayan yeti. David-Neel detailed the location to her great-great nephew thrice removed, Philipe Katerine, famous for his depiction of Dionysus at the Paris Olympics, who later designed this shield.
Bianca’s Fuzzy Pink Shield retains some of the consciousness stripped from enlightened lamas, rinpoches, tulkus, and notable genpos. Its symbiotic nature allows for it to be wielded quickly and stored with ease, yet it has been known to retain portions of the souls of past wielders.
“The item is actually named after her?” Hiro asked as he removed the shield from his arm and placed it on his backpack. Sure enough, the fuzzy braces went to work and fixed themselves into a position that would allow him to access the shield overhead.
Hiro moved onto the Hunter, cautious as ever as he registered the absent sneer on her face.
The prompt for the bunny girl’s finger gun power flashed before Hiro, and the Hunter dropped her head, her form starting to fade.
Roulette Skill: {Inseminating Finger Gun}
Rank: C
Description: After humping his first couch, Jale Bowman knew he was destined for greatness. But without the ability to spawn an army of sofa-children, it didn’t matter how many sexy, sensual sectionals he found and fucked—Bowman would remain a sofa-humping beardo.
Desperate to change his fate, he hit the books in search of a cure for his necrozoospermia.
He stumbled upon Wei Boyang’s Cantong Qi, where he discovered a Taoist alchemical recipe for turning one’s hands into an inseminating finger gun through prayer and a mixture of saltpeter, sulfur, and Sri Lankan charcoal. Armed with this knowledge, Bowman believed he could sexually service every loveseat in the Midwest by simply pointing his finger gun at them.
Bowman began his crusade, the young man anointing his sofa-children generals in his ever-growing army of bulked-up loveseats. Through the dubious breakthrough sofa incest, Bowman was able to strengthen his plush forces, unleashing a wave of violent, imbred couches that took the Midwest by storm.
Use this unique Roulette Skill to harness the power of Bowman’s inseminating finger gun, but stay clear of sofas unless you’re using protection! The power of each shot is amplified by your MIND divided by your REG.
What the fuck? Hiro thought as he skimmed the description once again.
Naturally, he turned his hand into a finger gun and aimed it at the gazebo he had jumped on earlier.
Pew!
A single shot hit the sidewall of the gazebo, reminding Hiro of a shotgun spray. He wasn’t sure of how lethal it would be, but it certainly would be useful. He tried again.
Pew!
“Okay.” Hiro lowered his hand gun and returned his focus to Bianca’s body. He lifted her and used {Bounce} to reach a building across from Bryant Park.
The teenage girl was surprisingly light in his arms, which he equated to the fact that his power was amplified by his current Roulette loadout. This reminded him that if he made it to the next Interim, his current bonuses would be reset as well.
Probably best not to worry about the Second Interim. He looked at the building beyond, gauging how far he would have to travel to reach Central Park. A new question came to him: Why am I even doing this in the first place? Why survive? And the only answer Hiro could come up with was that he wanted to reach the end of this, for those who had died, including the teenage girl in his arms.
Ask the right questions.
Yet again, his father’s words. Hiro wanted to do it for his family as well, for the mistakes he had made and the way they had drifted apart in the end.
He also knew now wasn’t the time to think too deeply about these things.
Hiro neared Times Square, where he found a perch on top of an enormous billboard.
He remembered what it looked like before the Doom System, how he often avoided the famed tourist destination. Times Square was a bustling madhouse of the loud. It was bright as day no matter the hour, filled with out-of-towners, scammers, people in shabby Elmo costumes, annoyed cops, protesters, thieves, gawkers, advertisements, and shops upon shops. Peak consumerism.
If he could have picked a favorite time to visit Times Square, it would have been late at night, perhaps in February, when there were fewer tourists in the city.
Hiro had biked through a few times and marveled at how strangely depressing it looked with all those lights, dystopian, even. There was a particular night that he remembered thinking it looked post-apocalyptic, the sadness of the people in costumes as they ruffled about, all those blinding lights with no one to stare dumbfounded at them.
But the way it looks now was so much worse. Trashed, buildings looted, everything toppled, the world no longer shining. He continued on and stopped at a building not far from Broadway, where Hiro had seen The Book of Mormon and Hadestown the previous year.
Movement in the streets below caught his attention. A being with the body of a centipede and the top half in a tattered Spider-Man costume skittered in front of some of the Times Square bleachers. A health bar formed over the monster’s head.
“I’ll be right back,” Hiro told Bianca as he placed her respectfully on the rooftop. He brought the fuzzy pink shield around and hopped down to the streets below.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
Hiro fired at the monster with his inseminating finger gun to get its attention. The creature swiveled at the sound and was able to absorb most of Hiro’s shots with its carapace. His shots cut the monster’s health bar by about an eighth, which told Hiro there may be able to cheese it from a rooftop.
The centipede Spider-Man headed up some of the bleachers and hurtled itself at Hiro.
As Hiro got behind his shield, drawing his katana, the fuzzy pink fibers on the front of the shield came alive. They threaded together like dreadlocks and twisted forward, where they speared into the monster’s Spider-Man costume and managed to cut off its arm.
Hiro bounced over it and went with {Blade Whirlwind}.
The monster produced a pair of enormous talons out of its back, which shot forward and would have pierced Hiro had it not been for the shield. He batted it away, and the fuzzy pink shield’s fibered tentacles did the rest as they speared into the monster again.
Two more strikes from {Blade Whirlwind} were all it took to kill the monster.
Soul Essence rushed into Hiro as fanfare played in his head, letting him know he had new followers. Without looking back at the monster, he moved to the rooftop again to retrieve Bianca’s body.
He almost said something to her, but realized that would be weird. Or would it be? he thought. Bianca hadn’t been in his life for very long, yet he had learned a lot about her in a short period of time.
She’d grown up on the Upper West Side, wealthy. She had an eating disorder. She was vulgar, slightly funny, violent, and had mostly survived by partnering with others. Her death could have been avoided, but Hiro had been through enough at this point not to put this on his shoulders.
He had other weights to bear.
Continuing down 7th Avenue, Hiro crossed the 50th Street intersection, Radio City Music Hall just a block away, not far from Rockefeller Center, an iconic landmark all but abandoned and worth exploring.
That was one thing he could do with the new powers given to him by the Doom System. Hiro could reach places that he never could have before and explore ways he had never thought possible, which made what happened before the Spectators joined the fray crucial.
He had already used {Trucks Volta} and {Instant Discount Ozempic}, meaning he only had a single One-Hit Wonder in his repertoire, {GoFundMerc}. If he was being honest with himself, Hiro was saving this. There may be other ways I need to use it in the future…
As Hiro passed 50th Street, he was reminded of the Atlas Statue in front of Rockefeller Center. It was across from St. Patrick’s Cathedral, where he had fought the pair of doors. He didn’t remember looking over at the time, but it was worth checking.
It’s probably a Sentry…
“Bianca, we need to take one more detour,” he told the dead girl still in his arms. Hiro hated to say it, but he also was nearly 100 percent certain that she would have done the same. “It’s on the way, and it might be worth something. But after that, I promise, and I know just the place to bury you.”
45
ART DECO ATLAS SHRUGS
Hiro bounced down to street level, Smoke Zero energy drink in hand.
He spotted the Art Deco Atlas statue and chugged the drink. On his next exhale, the courtyard in front of the statue and a portion of Fifth Avenue filled with smoke, the taste like licking a piece of charcoal. Another exhale only made the smoke thicker, yet Hiro could still see his opponent due to Atlas’s health bar, which, luckily for Hiro, didn’t have a gold rim around.
Description: As the world’s most subjectively brilliant minds went on strike, Art Deco Atlas, in all his godly glory, decided to side with the Titans.
At dawn, he led an attack against Wall Maria and Wall Rose, leaving them with Wall Sina, the innermost core, where an eager Eren Yeager and a pleonectic Dagny Taggart defended the Golden Apples of the Hesperides.
Gathering as much Ultrahard Steel as he could from a rapacious industrialist named Hank Rearden, famous for his overpriced ODM Gear Blades and Thunder Spears, Art Deco Atlas formed an incredibly large blade sphere, so large that he had to carefully hoist it on his shoulders.
Alongside the Titans, Atlas used this bladed sphere to smash through Wall Maria and Wall Rose, which had been constructed poorly due to companies siphoning funds from cost-plus government contracts to line executive pockets, fund stock buybacks, and pay dividends to shareholders.
At long last, Art Deco Atlas breached Wall Sina.
He was just about to claim the Golden Apples when he shrugged and was subsequently crushed by the weight of his own creation, the bladed sphere pinning him to the ground and severing his arms.
Art Deco Atlas died with one of the Golden Apples in his hand, the fruit rotted to the core.
Just as it had said the batshit description, Atlas slammed his bladed sphere onto the ground, which sent sharp bits of shrapnel flying at Hiro that he managed to dodge.
Kiss or Slap? KISS!
Hiro called upon his demon cats, who all bumrushed the statue, who smashed the ground repeatedly trying to beat them away as the smoke continued to obscure most of the action.
Klank!
{Blade Whirlwind} had little to no effect on the statue’s health bar.
Hiro fired at Atlas with his finger gun to gauge its strength.
Pew! Pew!
“Nothing. Really?” Hiro jumped back to reassess how he would handle the Sentry. He wasn’t trapped here. He could always escape, move to a roof, grab Bianca, and head to Central Park from there to bury her.
There’s no way I’ll be able to get in close enough with the way he’s smashing that sphere. I should have picked up a Corruption cartridge. {Edging}? What about that?
{Edging} was related to his MIND stat, which was boosted by his current Roulette layout.
This begged the question: Do I have more MIND than Atlas? And another question: Am I smarter than a statue?
“Fuck it, let’s try.” Hiro cast Edging by just thinking of the power.
A ripple of energy was all he noticed, one that mirrored a corona of light as it cut through the smoke. It hit Art Deco Atlas, and the statue, who had a pair of phantom demon cats attached to his leg, began to twitch violently.
Then, the mania.
Art Deco Atlas went to work like he was playing a life-sized game of Whac-A-Mole. He hit the street repeatedly with his bladed sphere, panic in his eyes as if he were being piloted by some unseen force.
Hiro moved even further back, disturbed by the sheer speed at which the statue slammed the sphere into the pavement. Atlas showed no signs of relenting; even if the {Edging} power had pushed the statue to madness, it had no effect on his health bar.
Then what? Hiro thought as he bounced back, where he landed on top of an armored truck that lay on its side. Hiro tried {Blade Whirlwind}, but this only drew Art Deco Atlas’s attention to him, the statue quickly reaching the truck.
He bounced away as Atlas drove the bladed sphere right into the engine, causing gasoline to spill out onto Fifth Avenue. Inferno? Hiro thought, thinking of another of his current vape pen cartridges. What will fire do against a statue?
As he bounded away yet again, at a loss for how to handle Art Deco Atlas, Hiro remembered his fight against the Pilgrim. The answer was in the description. He focused on the statue again, but the description never appeared.
Rather than stick around, Hiro jumped to a rooftop, where he quickly sheathed his sword and pulled out his phone. “What was the last sentry description?” he asked his companion as Art Deco Atlas slammed his sphere into the streets below.
The text appeared, and Hiro focused on the final paragraph.
Hiro hadn’t seen any Golden Apples, but there was Atlas’s sphere…
But how do I make him shrug?
The first thought that came to Hiro almost made him laugh. Tickle? No, that won’t happen. No way. But I could try to cut at his under-arms.
An idea formed. A crazy one, but that was par for the course at this point.
Hiro hopped down to the street and shot at Art Deco Atlas with his finger gun.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
The statue charged out of the smoke in his direction.
Hiro triggered {Bounce} to send himself over the statue. He landed behind Atlas just as he slammed the bladed sphere into the pavement.
It was a small opening, but Hiro managed to cut at the back of the statue’s heels just as he propelled himself forward and to the side with {Bounce}. This had a way of staggering his opponent, which caused him to lose his grip on the bladed sphere.
It wasn’t exactly a shrug that dropped the bladed sphere on Atlas’s back, but it was close enough, the statue’s body quickly dissected, obliterating its health bar. It was all so sudden that Hiro just stood there for a moment, poised to strike again.
But then the prompt came.
[A Sentry has fallen.]
Applause rang out in Hiro’s head.
You have new followers!
One of Art Deco Atlas’ hands turned, and a glowing light appeared, which Hiro recognized as a new skill. This was followed by two vape cartridges. There was a Corruption one and a cartridge listed as Anti-Fear, but no description.
