Apocalypse: Fairy System, Macronomicon [ebook offline .TXT] 📗

“You can’t claim a bounty when you’re blacklisted from the Hunter’s Association, so let it be,” Zlesk said, shoving him out the door before locking the station up.

“But I’m not blacklisted,” Jeb said.

“Huh?”

“Bree seemed to be pretty impressed with the recommendation I gave her.”

“The recommendation?” Zlesk asked. “Not my recommendation?”

Jeb grinned nice and wide.

The skull-faced sheriff’s eyes narrowed.

“Now, will you translate these for me, or am I gonna have to ask around town? You know I’ll be killed if word of that gets back to the wrong people.”

Zlesk snatched the bounties out of Jeb’s hands and scanned them, brows furrowed angrily.

“These people will kill you,” he said, shaking the papers in Jeb’s face.

“Then translate it for me so I can see for myself. If there’s no way I can beat them, I’ll back off. I’m not completely suicidal. C’mon, it’ll only take about five minutes. I’ll buy you a beer.”

Jeb pulled out his second-to-last silver coin and wiggled his eyebrows.

***At the Bar***

Svek Pederson

Est. Level 31~35

Class: Jury Rigger

Ability: Keep It Together

Est. Body 21~34

Est. Myst 1~3

Est. Nerve 8~15

Wanted dead or alive for piracy, kidnapping, theft, arson, murder, resisting arrest, sedition, contraband, treason.

Reward: 12 Gold Marks.

Svek has proven difficult to capture, and is known for his improvised fighting style. Reportedly capitalizing on his powerful Body, he reinforces household objects with his Ability to use as weapons and armor, bulling through opposition to inflict lethal damage.

Last seen in the oil deserts, his location has become unclear since the Stitching. His crew includes...

Hmm, Jeb thought to himself as he scanned through the description of each of the bounties, written in his own hand as Zlesk translated.

Of course they would put level and stat information up for bounties. It also made sense that they would need to estimate, since an outlaw would be unlikely to give them precise numbers.

It just felt weird reading about someone’s Class and level in an official document. It gave him a strange sense of dissonance. Like all the weird stuff had somehow blended in seamlessly with the normal.

“So, you see how dangerous they are, right?” Zlesk asked over his second brew.

“I do,” Jeb said, flipping through the sheets. The lowest-level guy was level fifteen, with enough Body to tear Jeb limb from limb. Thankfully none of them had very much skill with Myst or any supernatural abilities that would be an instant loss. He felt a plan slowly percolate in his mind.

“So you’re going to stop this ridiculous course of action?” the sheriff asked, glancing at him askance. “I’m not above locking you in the jail until you cool off.”

Jeb glanced up at the snazzily dressed lawman looming over him. Goddamn, keegan are tall.

“For what? Being dumb?”

“For whatever the Abyss I want. You’re not a Citizen. But if you must know, if I feel like you’re about to do something that might get someone else hurt, I’m well within my rights to lock you up.

“In this case, I think you’re about to get a nice young lady killed. Because you’re being dumb.”

Jeb didn’t bother to answer, checking for any possible surprises in the pirate crew’s Abilities. He lingered on one in particular: the melas with the bone jewelry who’d run into him the day before, known as Boney Pete.

Not a creative bunch, Jeb thought to himself. He’d seen the guy in town the night before. He might be able to lead Jeb to their hideout.

Maybe he was on a supply run? The chances of him still being in town the next day are slim. Jeb checked the man’s Abilities. It seemed like his Class Ability could shrink things. Definitely the supply runner.

I think those bones in his hair were actually femurs, Jeb thought to himself.

“Are you listening to me?” Zlesk demanded.

“A little,” Jeb said.

“Jeb! Jeb!” A tiny voice echoed off the walls of the little bar as Smartass came flying over to their isolated booth in the corner, a piece of paper bigger than she was fluttering in her hands.

“Check this out,” she said, slapping the fluttering paper down on the table, posing triumphantly. “Filched this from his safe when he opened it. We got the good dirt on that prick now! You use this right, and we’ll be swimming in Myst.” Smartass cackled evilly, rubbing her hands together with glee.

“Do you know I can’t read that?” Jeb asked. “Wait a second. You can read that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” Smartass asked, hopping up on his shoulder.

“Goddamnit.” Jeb sighed, folding the paper up before Zlesk could get a chance to read it. Zlesk would likely not take kindly to blackmail.

“Where did that letter come from?” Zlesk asked, before frowning, his eyes focusing slightly on Jeb’s shoulder.

“And what’s that… You’ve got something on your shoulder.”

“Fairy,” Jeb said, estimating Zlesk’s Myst to be somewhere between five and eight. Higher than Jeb’s, most likely. The only reason Jeb could see and hear the bug was because of the litany of Deals they’d made with each other.

“Gah!” Zlesk backed away, leaping to his feet like he’d just seen a poisonous snake. He backed out of the booth, pointing a shaking finger at Jeb. “Get rid of it! They’re evil little creatures whose only joy is the suffering of others!”

“That’s not completely accurate,” Jeb said.

“Don’t be fooled by its honeyed words. They’re the bane of civilization! Send it back to the Death Wilds where it belongs!”

“Wow, that's quite a response,” Jeb muttered, studying the sheriff’s animated gesticulations.

“Where is it now?” he asked, brandishing his club. “I’ll squish it.”

“It’s not there anymore,” Jeb said. Smartass had climbed into his collar to hide.

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Let me know if you see another one,” Zlesk said, glancing around shiftily. “They’re considered anathema