Gadget shared a quick glance with Jake then stood up to her full towering five foot one. "You know I think I can speak for both of us and tell you to Fuck off with that bull shit. WE got a damn good team and don't need you knuckle dragging ass hats." Gadget grinned. "Besides, why would Merc want to run off to some sausage fest like your group. Not when he has his Girlfriend, his side chick, and all this hawtness right here." Gadget puffed out her chest.
Killgore shook his head. "Come now. Let me buy you a drink." He glanced at Cass for the first time. "Your girlfriend is only an uncommon but if you want she can tag along. Just can't join the guild." He smiled friendly like.
Jake stood up. He was still in the middle of a growth spurt but didn't come close to the towering Killgore. Still, when he looked up his eyes were filled with all the fury he could muster. Just like when he had snapped fighting the Grims he felt it seething through him. How dare this person make fun of his friends, and talk down to them.
"I think Gadget said everything that needs to be said. Thanks for the offer but I've got my friends right here." Merc mask closed over his face as he spoke, distorting his voice into that deeper synthetic tone halfway through.
"Don't be an idiot. We have crafting cores ready to be used for both of you. We can farm up not only some crapy mutagen but a bunch of B rank ones to boost you with. This game is just like life, you need to make sure you are on the right path. Trust me, we are the right path." Killgore still smiled and his tone was polite but he dropped his hand on Jake's shoulder. His knuckles turned white as he gripped him with his B rank strength.
To Killgore's surprise, Jake didn't even flinch. His gloves did turn into gauntlets though.
"No fighting in my bar. Or the safe zone for that matter." Clive shouted out. Only then did Jake realize everyone was watching them, the bar suddenly quiet for the first time since he had been playing. Killgore eyed that smooth featureless mask for a moment longer before letting go of Jake and shaking his head.
"You are making a mistake kid. But hey we were all young and dumb once before." Killgore laughed dropping the tension in the air several notches. "When you get tired of playing around with the rest. Come join the best." Killgore tossed several B rank cores over to Clive. "A round on me for everyone."
That shattered the last of the tension. Killgore and the Uniques left out the door while Jake stood watching them. Nearby a table was laughing loudly. "My money was on the Demon. D rank or not I bet he would have wiped the floor with that guy." Another chuckled and agreed, Merc was a local. Everyone knew him. The other group had just wandered in recently. It seemed Hub 4 looked after their own.
Jake sat down with the others and laughed it all off. Only Cass who took his hand under the table felt him still trembling. She couldn't tell if it was nerves, fear, or anger. Neither could Jake.
**********
"Well, that went about as shit as possible." The Black Dog shook his head. "Fucking kid doesn't know what is good for him. But I'm really shocked you let him get away with it."
Killgore snorted. "The fuck I did. I'll teach him some respect. Right before I delete his character for good. Find me a fucking permadeath zone." Killgore snarled. He couldn't stand some punk kid making him look like a fool. He seethed with rage, this wasn't real life where he was a nobody. In this game, he had real power. Power he was more than willing to use. "Fucker will learn just like all the rest. The only Uniques around belong to me."
**********
The Grim Shaman was exhausted. They had made it to the deepest part of their underground village and collapsed all the entrances above. They couldn't risk the dangerous monsters up there invading. Their mind still whirled with disbelief that such primitive creatures had managed to overpower their protection. Worse, they had destroyed their staff. Killed their champion. Even the slaughter of all their lesser brethren annoyed them.
They staggered towards the spawning pools. Even wounded and weary they had too much to do to rest just yet. A two eyed Grim tending to the spawning pools looked up. Seeing the tribe's great shaman badly wounded forced them to drop the pole they were using to push around eggs in the pool. Their little brow furrowed at seeing the previously god like shaman brought so low. It caused their natural instincts to kick in, forcing them to care about the most important person in the tribe to them. Themself. It lunged for the wounded shaman intent on tearing out its throat.
Instead, the shaman caught it mid air. One large hand caught its head and the other one of its arms. He twisted its head to the side and sank his jagged teeth into the smaller Grim's neck. Ripping and tearing chunks of flesh free he gulped down mouthfuls of the foul flesh. Already his body was processing the meal of perfectly matched flesh to heal his wounds. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the corpse into the sludge of the spawning pools. The yellow brown sludge bubbled and popped while the corpse sizzled as it was broken down. Several leathery looking eggs with dark blue veins floated nearby. The veins began to pulse rapidly as they worked to absorb the nutrition added to the pool before any of the others could. Even in their eggs, Grims were creatures of survival.
They now walked with more stability after their quick impromptu meal. Passing through the bubbling spawning pools, a few others there to tend them watched him. But none made a move. In his weakened state, they might have overpowered him working together. But two eyed ones were far too simple to process such a plan. Nor did the idea of working together even cross their minds. Such a thought would require them to think beyond their own needs and desires. It was only through might and an oppressive will that the Shaman managed to keep them working together. Even then if it wasn't for their astounding spawn rate they would never have lasted. Grims killed each other faster than any enemy.
Beyond there he passed through a twisting tunnel that lead to a solid wall of stone. He reached up and with far more effort than he expected, opened the stone wall. He would need a new staff and soon. As he entered the most sacred of places the stone wall closed behind him, without his needing to do anything. Several small pits of bubbling liquid metal pocketed the room. But the center of the room was taken up by a writhing and boiling pit of liquid metal big enough for a man to lay in. From the center of that bubbling pool, a sharp angular metallic crystal rose up. Impaled on that crystal was an enormous Grim, easily nine feet tall. The crystal entered their back and jutted from their chest, as big around as a man's head.
The impaled Grim dangled there, its limbs hanging limply while its head followed suit. Approaching the pool the Shaman stopped next to a stone pedestal that seemed to have been carved right out of the stone the room was formed of. Its top was a concave bowl and sitting in it were half a dozen Power Cores. Most were from other Grims but they had a few from other monsters. It scooped up a handful of them and tossed them into the bubbling water.
The liquid frothed and boiled. The impaled Grim twitched and made a groaning sound as the crystal grew slightly taller, pushing through their chest. Then their limbs spasmed and the Shaman watched as beads of liquid metal seeped out of their pores on their limbs. They turned crystalline and spread, adding themselves to others there as well. In the dim glow from the boiling liquid, they could see the slowly growing gauntlets and greeves.
The impaled Gim continued to twitch and spasm even after the pool calmed back down. Then it lifted its head. Its skin was a pale greyish color and it looked down at the shaman with white milky eyes. Five white milky eyes.
It spoke. Its words were naught but grunts and hisses. "You weak. Tribe Weak."
The shaman curled back its thin lips showing jagged teeth. "Monsters kill many. Kill chosen."
"Strong then. They will make us strong." The five eyed Grim hissed, pleased despite confirming many of his kin had been slaughtered.
"No. Escaped. No bodies. Not even ours." His tone was harsh but subdued.
The impaled grim barked at them in annoyance. "Worthless." They lifted one hand as they hung there to show them the growing metallic gloves. "I sacrifice all. You waste all." Their head lolled back exhausted and went quiet.
The shaman glared up at the unmoving chieftain of his clan. He snarled at the understood insults. They had little words as a race but needed little. Those who grew beyond the three eyed state had a greater intelligence and an almost empathic bond with each other. He could feel the chieftain's disdain at his failure. He again reached into the bowl and scooped up the last of the power cores. With a flick of his wrist, he fed them to the pool.
Back in the spawning pools, he eyed the various eggs floating in the sludge. He pointed his finger at the one he wanted and barked an order to the Grims tending the pool. They used the long poles to fish out the egg and moved it to a large pool alone. More barks and grunts sent them running. Soon they returned with wounded or young Grims. Each had their throats torn out and tossed into the pool with the singular egg.
Impassively the Shaman watched them dissolve and the veins in the egg pulse rapidly. They would need more and greater sacrifices. Bodies worthy of feeding a new champion. Worthy of donning the blessings being grown by the chieftain. They stood taller finding their resolve. They would need to ask their god for guidance.