Apocalypse: Fairy System by Macronomicon (fox in socks read aloud txt) 📕

equal value, we will allow your workers to return to the mines, such that you can gather the money needed to appease us.”

Jeb blinked.

“Read that last paragraph again?” he asked as he ran.

Smartass did so without complaint.

“Collateral of equal value? Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jeb asked.

“His daughter,” Smartass said with a shrug.

“His—” Jeb glanced at the fairy resting on his shoulder. “I forgot how you got your name.”

“We fairies have a knack for this sort of thing,” Smartass said, posing.

“Okay, so I think you’ve given me the kernel of what I need to enact part five of the plan, thanks a bunch.”

“It wasn’t hard,” she said with a shrug before her face brightened. “So how are you going to use the letter to take his Impact?”

Jeb glanced at Smartass. “I feel like if I tell you, you’ll do it yourself and take the whole share. I don’t recall a clause where you have to share with me if you take payment.”

“That wasn’t…the only reason I asked,” Smartass said, avoiding his gaze.

“Hah. Gimmie the letter back.” Smartass reluctantly handed it over. “Now we just have to do the part where we kill a dozen superhuman sand-pirates and rescue Ms. Grenore.”

“Simple,” Smartass said.

“Yeah, but not easy,” Jeb muttered, directing the next batch of butterflies to fly above him, keeping pace with him as they gradually disappeared into the sky, too small to be seen against the curtain of night.

They were passing the city in the dark of night, angling for the eastern road when Jeb had an epiphany that caused him to slow his stride for a moment.

“Smartass, I just realized something.”

“Yeah?”

“We didn’t actually make a Deal with Garland Grenore yet.”

“Oohh… That could be a problem. You should go do that. Like, right now.”

Jeb looked back at the city glittering in the dark, a few miles distant now.

“Nope, it’s too late to go back. I’ll miss the messenger, and this will get way harder. I’ll work something out when we get back.”

“Jeb, five percent of nothing is nothing.”

“Relax,” Jeb said. “I’ll figure something out. Rescuing that girl is more important to me, anyway.”

“Ugh! This deal sucks!”

***Mark Jacobs***

Svek is gonna wanna hear about this, Mark thought as he power-walked through the dark of night. He could already feel the heavy weight of the gold coin in his hand, taste the beer it would buy.

Among other things, Mark thought, mind wandering to the friendly ladies on the edge of town.

He’d been tapped to provide information to the pirates a couple months ago, and to be honest, they scared the hell out of him. But he’d made the trek up to the mountains three times now, and twice they’d paid him damn good money for it. The third time, they’d said the information was useless to them.

It had rankled, but Mark wasn’t going to argue with men who could casually tear his head off.

The fact that Boney Pete had been caught was way juicier than any news he’d ever brought before. He was definitely getting paid this time.

Mark chuckled to himself, but stopped when he heard a strange noise from behind him.

Clomp, shh, clomp, shh, clomp.

What the? Mark glanced behind him, his hair rising on his neck, heart jumping into overdrive. Monsters were real now, and Mark was level twelve. He didn’t even have a Class.

He’d taken the Easy Tutorial, wholly uninterested in risking his own life.

And yet, here I am, walking through monster- and outlaw-infested wilderness. What the hell am I doing out here? Mark’s typically strong sense of self-preservation returned in force, no longer blinded by gold.

Behind him, he made out the faint outline of a man limping towards him. The silhouette was human, but something was wrong. One of the feet was a slender pole.

“Who are you?” Mark asked, turning to face the silhouette and fingering his sword, widening his eyes to try and make out the figure better.

Should’ve put more points into Nerve, he thought, peering into the dark. The figure was about twenty feet back and approaching slowly, at a sedate, limping pace.

“Hi there.” The voice belonged to a man, and it sounded a bit on the older side. “Do you have a moment to talk about running information for pirates?”

He knows! Run!

Mark didn’t bother drawing his blade. If the guy knew what he was doing out here, this wasn’t a random meeting, and that meant there was no way he would win in a straight fight.

He turned and ran, putting every ounce of his fifteen Body to work, taking off like a bat out of hell. Professional athletes from before the Stitching would have drooled with envy.

Let’s see a one-legged man keep up with this.

Pain erupted in Mark’s legs as something took a bite out of him in the darkness.

“AAAIII!” He would’ve been embarrassed about the shrill scream if he hadn’t been busy tumbling into the dirt road. Once he slid to a stop, he reached down to his thighs and found chunks of flesh just gone from his legs, overwhelming his ability to think from the sheer pain blasting through his body as dirt and grit got into the open wounds.

“Oh god, oh god.” Mark didn’t think of himself as a Christian, but prayers to God just kinda…tumbled out of his mouth as he pressed down on the golf-ball-sized holes in his leg, instinctively trying to stop the bleeding.

“Evening,” the one-legged man said, grabbing Mark’s shirt and flipping him onto his back before straddling his chest.

Mark froze when he heard the click of a hammer being cocked back. He heard it real good, because the barrel was pressed against his skull, and the sound echoed through bone.

“Now, you might be thinking to yourself,” the man said, “‘My