Zap!
Ben shot a barcode baby crawling down what had once been a functioning elevator.
“Nice,” Hiro said as he scanned the bottom floor, which had once been the make-up and perfume department. The air was thick with the mingling scents of high-end fragrances, a heady mix of floral, musk, and citrus that had long since settled into the dust. Graffiti covered the mirrored walls in neon streaks, distorting reflections with chaotic symbols and barely legible warnings. Dozens of nail polishes had been opened and hurled onto the floor, their dried, multicolored splashes forming a messy, abstract path leading toward the center of the gutted store.
It was in the center, just before the now dormant escalators, that they found what may have once been a mall Santa, the merchant seated on an elaborate red chair covered in rust marks and adorned with onion-bulb shaped Christmas lights. He was emaciated, his beard long and stringy, reaching past his black leather belt. His flesh was that of a mummy, yet there was a strangely joyous light in his eyes, one that gave off a warming sensation that Hiro knew shouldn’t have been possible given their current situation.
“Hey, Santa,” Ben said casually as ever to the merchant in the big red costume.
Santa removed his pointed red hat, revealing a head defined by an intense combover of wispy white hair and a pair of elven ears. “Ah, Survivors,” he said with a cough. “Ho, ho, ho. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“As long as you got the presents we’re looking for,” Ben told him.
“And what would that be?”
“Santa, we need levels. And we need our phones hooked up, or whatever it’s called.”
“You want Comms access with…” Santa turned to Hiro. “Him.”
“Correct.”
Hachi, who had been rummaging around as always, came upon the scene and sniffed at one of Santa’s gift bags.
“Smart dog, you have there,” Santa said. “He found the good stuff.”
“Which is?” Hiro asked.
“That depends. Have you been naughty or nice?”
Bianca snickered. “Tell him you’ve been naughty.”
Hiro decided against her advice and spoke again. “We’ve done all we can. Let’s just say that.”
Santa the Merchant’s grin faded as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back. “In that case, I won’t invite you to hop onto my knee.” Let’s get down to business.” He turned his attention to Hiro first. “Are you familiar with how Followers change the amount of Soul Cash you have?”
“Not exactly.”
“Good, we’ll start there. For this Interim, those numbers aren’t just vanity metrics—they determine how much your Soul Cash multiplies. You have 16,553 followers, which means your Soul Cash gets multiplied by 2.6, giving you approximately 13,809 dollars to spend.”
Hiro’s eyes bulged slightly. That’s more than I expected…
Santa turned to Ben next, his eyes flickering as he explained that Ben had just under ten thousand to spend. “Another way to think of it is this: every 10-K followers bumps your multiplier up by one. It’s a simple formula—more eyes on you, more Soul Cash in your pocket. But don’t get cocky, there are things in this world money can’t buy,” Santa added, leaning in slightly. A grin cracked across his face. “Who am I kidding? Your world was bought and owned long before the Doom System got here. But that’s a discussion for another day. You want to cash in, or are we still doing math? Wait, I forgot to add—this doesn’t require the sacrifice of your current followers.”
“It doesn’t?” Hiro asked the merchant.
“Nah, I already checked that,” Ben answered for Santa. “Apparently, we killed so many Spectators in the First Interim that followers aren’t being sacrificed. Or, they’re being held for something.”
Both their phones buzzed at the same time. Hiro was the first to retrieve his. He read his Companion’s message aloud: “The number of followers you obtain during the Second Interim will play an important part in your Survivor journey once the gates open.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Survivor journey?” Bianca shook her fuzzy pink stub at the ceiling of the department store. “This is torture, not a journey.”
“She didn’t like that last part, I take it,” Ben said as he observed the shield.
“Not exactly,” Hiro said. “But this is all good to know.” He returned his focus to the merchant. “How many levels can I buy?”
Santa coughed again. “Two, and you will still have enough Soul Cash left over to keep shopping and get Comms.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“Done,” the merchant said as a wave of magical energy washed over Hiro. The air around him shimmered and a faint hum filled his ears, deep and resonant, as if the very fabric of reality had momentarily adjusted to accommodate whatever changes had just taken place.
Level up!
Skill Level up!
{Blade Whirlwind}, F-Rank > E-Rank
Level up!
Skill Level up!
{Bounce}, D-Rank > C-Rank
It auto-leveled some of my skills too, Hiro thought, which was something he had wondered about.
His phone buzzed, and while Ben got his level, Hiro read the message from his Companion:
Two levels with change leftover for the Comms and a few other things, Hiro thought. This only made him want to get out there and deal with the Remnants he had remaining. He hadn’t explained this to Ben and didn’t know if he should. It’s my burden to bear, he thought as he remembered the energy drinks from the previous Interim. “Do you have Knockout Punch?” he asked Santa. “What about vape cartridges?”
“I have the drink, but no cartridges,” Merchant Santa said as he reached his hand down and tapped it against something hollow-sounding, indicating that there was a small, dorm-sized fridge as part of his seat.
“One of those, then. Munster if you have it.”
The merchant cracked his bony knuckles. “I do.”
“Wait, I didn’t know vaping was still a thing,” Ben joked.
“It’s a weapon. But right now, I only have one cartridge at the moment, poison and anti-fear. Pop them in and I’m able to use their effects on an opponent, or myself, depending on the cartridge.”
“Maybe the best usage of a vape pen yet. What about the drink?” Ben asked. “What’s that do?”
“Have you experimented with any of the energy drinks?”
“Other than an occasional red bull and vodka, or a Monster to get me going, not really.”
“These are Doom System drinks. Each one has a different property. Munster, for example, boosts your Strength by one. I currently have a bottle of Smoke Zero and Smellicious.” Hiro rattled off a quick list of what he had tried already, from Poxstar to Pink Bull. He wasn’t excited about the hangover he knew would follow the Knockout Punch he had requested, but he knew a quick rest meant he would be able to get out there and continue on the mission. A mission that the Doom System has essentially put me on. Is it the most logical way forward? Hiro thought of this as the merchant went over the energy drinks he had in stock with Ben. It makes sense not to have to deal with the Revenants once the gate opens. But could it be a distraction? Could the Doom System be trying to throw me off from a path that would make more sense?
This is the right question, he concluded. And I do have the One Hit Wonder that will let me send an assassin out, GoFundMerc. The important part of the description came to him:
GoFundMerc will allow you to summon the assassin named Ghost to kill any opponent you may have, from a Hunter to another Survivor. You will not gain any loot or Soul Essence for this kill.
That could always be an option…
The negotiations continued until Ben settled on Smoke Zero, which he said would help him with his pen attacks. “My eyes are telling me if I use something like that, I’ll be provided with a reticle that will guide me to my enemy. So that’ll work for me. Let’s do that.”
They finished their transactions, spent all their Soul Cash, and left the department store, back to the front and directly past the creepy mannequins, Hachi following behind them and sniffing the ground.
Once they were out, Hiro confirmed that his followers remained and that all but six hundred of his Soul Cash had been spent. He turned to Ben, who had already brought his phone out, its screen reflecting off the visor of his motorcycle helmet. “Let’s test this.” He pointed his bear gauntleted hand to the nearest building. “Hop up to that roof or whatever and see if you can’t say something to me.”
“Good call.” Hiro bounced to the nearest roof and stepped away from the edge. “Ben,” he said to his phone.
A pause, then Ben’s voice came from the phone speaker. “I’m here with your dog, just got done doing a little shopping. Where you off to now?”
“Rest,” Hiro said, “then I’ll be going back out there.”
“Good. In that case, I’ll get exploring. You know how to get in touch. Careful with your bear claw.”
“Same. And Ben, one thing,” Hiro said into his phone as he turned back toward the East River.
“Yeah?”
“Stay clear of the Statue of Liberty.”
Ben laughed, his voice clipping. “I ain’t that kind of tourist.”
“I mean stay clear of any area that the Statue of Liberty could see you. The shoreline. Trust me on that.”
“Ah, hell. Noted. You and Bianca take care, now. We’ll be in touch.”