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84.61% Nine Demons / Chapter 22: Martial Law (10)

Capítulo 22: Martial Law (10)

Nathaniel immediately engaged his glasses to check the stats of his opponents. All the soldiers were in the thirties for Power. Most of which from Essence, physical human power rather than magical abilities. [They are soldiers after all], thought Nathaniel, [not battle hardened but still extremely formidable - especially since they outnumber me]. The commander was different. Very different. As were his stats;

=========================

[Enhanced Appraisal]

Name: Unknown

Title/s: None, 

Essence: 30 (15 x 2)

Favour: 6

Reserve: 5

Power Level: 41

[End Appraisal]

=========================

"Please, take a seat" encouraged the commander with a sick smile, smoke from a cigarette in his mouth billowing upwards into the cold air.

Nathaniel complied, taking a seat in a steel folding chair. Sitting opposite the commander, the former FBI agent glanced left and right. Three of the riflemen had his skull at the centre of their crosshairs, the fourth remained scoped in on Diana. The three shotgunners had not moved - still focused and aiming at Michael.

"I am uncertain about the exact details of your ability," began the commander, "but what I do know is you can somehow make my men mentally unable to fire their guns with the limit of you can only affect one person at a time."

"Just let Michael go," puffed Nataniel between deep and heavy breaths, "and we'll be on our way."

"I'm afraid that is simply not possible," replied the commander, "your ability is just too useful. There is no way I will just let you leave especially when I already have a hostage to control you and therefore your powers already. You've even brought a second hostage too, one you care much more about and is even easier for me to manage. Throw me your gun and you have my word - no harm will come to you or your frankly useless friends."

The commander paused for a moment, taking a hit of his cigarette before grinning wide. "Provided you do not disobey me of course." 

Nathaniel was seconds from replying when he was abruptly cut off and silenced.

"I am not useless." said Diana, burning blue eyes blazing with defiance.

The commander's grin grew even wider, baring all his grey teeth.

"I suppose you could be useful as a plaything for my soldiers, you would not even feel anything." admitted the commander. A few of the soldiers laughed and jeered, also grinning at the remark.

Diana suddenly whipped out a handgun that was hidden in her hoodie, levelling it with the commander's head.

"HOW ABOUT I BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT INSTEAD?" roared Diana, knuckles white and face red.

A soldier shoved his rifle directly into Diana's forehead, the barrel pressing her skin just above her right eyebrow.

Nathaniel widened his eyes at Diana, his stare silently saying "what the hell are you doing?"

Diana only winked in reply.

Then she squeezed the trigger of her handgun.

Almost instantly a bullet thundered out of the weapon, driving itself through the commander's forehead. Blood erupted out of the resulting wound as the lifeless man fell backwards and off the chair into an awkward heap. With lightning fast reactions, the soldiers all pulled the triggers of their various firearms - shotguns at Michael, rifles at Nathaniel and Diana. However none of the guns fired. Several of the soldiers tried to pull the triggers again, one of the shotgunners fiddled with his firearm. Yet none of them could use their weapons.

Seizing the opportunity, Nathaniel raced out of his chair and drove his fist squarely into the jaw of the soldier closest to Diana. Eyelids fluttering, the soldier stumbled back only for Nathaniel to shoot him in the face. Realising their weapons were useless, the soldiers all turned to rush Nathaniel. The former FBI agent spun, smashing the grip of his handgun into the temple of a nearby soldier.

The soldier only grunted in response and stepped back while raising his fists into a boxing stance. Nathaniel swiftly re-aimed and squeezed the trigger of his gun twice. The firearm clicked but did not fire. Empty but not useless, Nathaniel threw the handgun at the boxing soldier's face. Instinctively the man raised his hands to protect his face, leaving himself vulnerable. Nathaniel wasted no time. He immediately unleashed a powerful kick that collided between the soldier's hips.

Meanwhile Diana rolled forward in her wheelchair, scooping up the commander's revolver and firing it three times at the shotgunners near Michael. The first shot missed, flying past the soldiers harmlessly. Her next two shots did not miss. One of the bullets tore through one of the soldier's eyes and the other entered a soldier's neck before promptly exiting. Both of the two men collapsed lifelessly, blood staining the ground.

Nathaniel finished off the last rifleman with a well placed slash of the throat, blood gushing out and covering the former FBI agent with the sticky red liquid. He hated the feeling of being covered in blood. It was a familiar feeling. Unwelcome but familiar. The last surviving soldier dropped his shotgun and turned before sprinting away. Diana raised her revolver, aiming for the back of the man's exposed head. Mere milliseconds before she could squeeze the trigger, Nathaniel put his hand on the gun's barrel and forced it down.

"Why did you do that?" demanded Diana, half-shoving Nathaniel's hand off the revolver.

Nathaniel let his hands fall back to his sides.

"When someone is fleeing, they've effectively surrendered." explained Nathaniel, "even if he gets reinforcements, we should not kill someone who won't fight us."

"B-but they're fucking… fucking evil!" exclaimed Diana, "they're monsters."

"Is Michael a monster?" asked Nathaniel, using the sleeve of his coat to wipe the blood from his face.

"What?" replied Diana, her voice lowering and eyes softening.

"Remember he tried to kill us when we first met him but he ended up saving my life. It may be the end of the world, but that does not give us the right to be inhumane. Yes, it is a grey area and we will inevitably make mistakes. But we should still do our best to do the right thing, even if it makes surviving harder. Otherwise how are we any different from them? Utilising and abusing others for their own sake, with no regard for the wellbeing or humanity of others."

Nathaniel paused, cutting through Michael's restraints before continuing.

"You can kill all the monsters you want, but not at the cost of becoming one." finished Nathaniel.

Diana rolled her wheelchair over to Nathaniel and hugged him.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me. They were just… just… I don't know. Evil. Monsters. I just wanted them fucking dead." whispered Diana.

"It's okay, you were doing what you thought was right. I could've done the exact same thing. Let's be more careful in future and keep each other in check, okay?" reassured and asked Nathaniel.

"Deal," agreed Diana with a half-smile.

"Thanks for saving me but I'm really confused," spoke up Michael, speaking slowly, "why did none of their guns work? There is no way they all failed simultaneously or jammed. I do not understand either."

Diana smirked before explaining, "So my ability, Master Key, lets me control any lock or locking mechanism. Guns have safety locks, so I just turned on all the safeties so they could not use their guns. Kinda simple really."

Nathaniel doubled blinked in surprise. This application of Master Key was both brilliant and positively powerful against other armed humans.

"That is brilliant, Diana." praised Nathaniel, "I genuinely didn't think of that. You're definitely more powerful than me."

Diana's half smile grew into a full blown grin.

It was only now Nathaniel noticed the small faintly glowing box that had fallen out of the commander's pocket. The box was a deep navy blue, with darker blue veins that swirled like marble. He reached down to touch the box.

Time slowed to a crawl as Nathaniel picked up the box. He flipped it over to see a white skull emblem on the other side.

"Good Morning, Agent Torres" creaked a voice from across the room.

Nathaniel turned to look at the speaker. It was a skeleton with burning coals for eyes. A cigarette jutted out from in between its bleached white teeth. It wore a military trench coat and an officer's cap bearing the U.S. Army Emblem. The uniform was covered in mud and ruined by a dozen bullet holes.

"Hello…" greeted Nathaniel tentatively, "is this box another relic?"

"Correct," began the skeleton, "I will keep this explanation brief as I have other matters to attend to. That box is a relic I created called the Dead Man's Cigarettes. Every day, at dawn, a cigarette with a blue tip and a black filter will appear in the box. The box will hold up to twenty such cigarettes and will only replenish a cigarette if less than twenty cigarettes exist. While smoking a cigarette from this package, your physical abilities double. You can choose to stack multiple cigarettes if you wish, however you will only be granted one additional cigarette daily regardless how many you use. The cigarette's effect lasts for the duration you can smoke it for, which is about six minutes. You may ask one question before I leave."

Nathaniel's mind raced to determine the best question to ask before finally deciding.

"Can I please know your name?" inquired Nathaniel.

"My name is Neit," replied the skeleton as time began returning to its normal flow, "thank you kindly for asking."


Capítulo 23: Gang Warfare (1)

"This isn't sustainable." commented Vincent as he fired two rounds from his handgun into an Undead's kneecaps, causing it to collapse after said kneecaps exploded. 

"What do you mean?" asked Eddie as he gunned down a trio of Undead with his shotgun at point blank range, launching chunks of flesh and blood across the room.

"We're using up ammo way too fast. At this rate we'll run out in a week's time - if we're lucky." elaborated Vin. Pistol empty, he dashed forward into a powerful uppercut before bringing his elbow down on the Undead's vulnerable neck. The ancient Undead, possibly from the mediaeval era, shuddered as its neck shattered into several pieces.

"So?" inquired Eddie. He proceeded to smash the stock of his firearm into another Undead - stunning it. Eddie then darted backwards and unloaded his shotgun once at the creature. Its head exploded like a balloon from the force of the modified shell. It too collapsed like Vin's own Undead, quivering harmlessly on the marble floor.

"Realistically we can defeat the Undead using melee weapons unless there's an insane amount attacking us at once. But we don't know what level of firepower other survivors currently have and if they're friend or foe. Heck, we probably wouldn't know if they were Angels until they did some magic bullshit. We should preserve our strength." replied Vincent while reloading and kneecapping yet another Undead.

"And your point is?" asked Eddie, not fully paying attention.

Vincent turned to his friend, annoyed.

"We're going to run out of ammunition and we can defeat Undead with just melee weapons. So how about we save our guns and ammo for when we inevitably duke it out with other survivors who'll eventually start fighting for resources. Also some will definitely have abilities and will require a lot more firepower than regular humans to defeat." angrily ranted Vin while stabbing two separate Undead knights, still wearing rusted armour, through the gaps in the centuries old plates. The pair continued to advance so Vin was forced to take more drastic measures. From his utility belt he swapped his knives for hammers. Vin then stepped forward and swung both hammers simultaneously at the first Undead's exposed temples - shattering the former human's skull. He then spun and attacked the second Undead knight in the same manner, ultimately incapacitating both.

"See what I mean?" said Vincent, "We don't really need to use guns for the smaller groups of Undead".

"Yea, yea Vin. I understand. I agree. I'll finish off these last few Undead and put them in the dungeon." replied Eddie with a sly smirk.

"Could you please call it anything else?" asked Vin, rubbing his eyes forcefully, "it's an accurate name just sounds suspicious".

Eddie shrugged and hefted up his shotgun - aiming down at the last advancing Undead. The creature was a man dressed in a tattered grey business suit. Eddie closed one eye, holding his weapon with expert steadiness. He pulled the trigger and the Undead collapsed, legs shattered by shotgun pellets. Fragments of flesh and bone splattered behind the struggling creature. Shouting "Shadow Pocket Dimension!" as he touched all of the incapacitated Undead, Eddie placed them into his personal storage.

Currently Eddie and Vin's plan for managing the immortal Undead was to incapacitate them and then imprison them. They had refurbished the basement and underground levels of the museum to have only one entry or exit - the elevator shaft. So when the duo had finished their hunting for the day Eddie dumped all the captured Undead down the elevator shaft - into the Undead infested abyss below. The pair knew that eventually their makeshift dungeon would overfill, however it was an excellent temporary solution to a rather big problem. Vincent estimated that approximately 200 Undead were trapped down in the basement of the British Museum. However the Museum basement and underground levels were theoretically large enough to hold thousands. After Eddie unloaded the captured Undead down the shaft, the pair regrouped in the main hall where they kept their supplies. Brandon had been diligently cooking while the old men had been away, much to Eddie's surprise.

"Brandon.. Have you been cooking?" asked Eddie, approaching his pseudo-servant.

"Yes, Sir. We only have Instant Noodles left but I managed to get some seasoning for them so it's a touch more tasteful." replied Brandon cautiously, holding his metal stirring fork.

Eddie smiled, "Come and sit down with us, Brandon. You might learn a thing or two."

Brandon sat down with his own bowl of noodles after serving the two old men. The trio sat in camping chairs around a makeshift table made out of books as they talked.

"So, what weapon are you choosing to fight Undead with?" asked Vincent between mouthfuls of steaming noodles. He was genuinely curious, as his friend was exceptionally more knowledgeable than himself when it came to theory of melee weapons. Vincent tended to not worry about the optimal and most effective weapons to use. Rather he tended to use whatever weapons he felt most comfortable and skilled with - sometimes in peculiar manners which annoyed Eddie endlessly. This resulted in Vin often using the same or different weapons utilised in similar styles. Specifically, Vicent enjoyed dual wielding and was even more skilled at Eddie at that fighting style. For incapacitating Undead, he had already chosen dual swords found in the museum paired with his pre-existing dual hammers. Which was his usual melee loadout. Regardless, he was interested to see Eddie's decision and recommendations.

"A yari." replied Eddie, gesturing to the polearm laying in a nearby display cabinet. The spear consisted of a long wooden shaft with a long double edged blade on the end. Vincent recognised it as a Japanese styled spear - a yari as Eddie had decided.

Eddie continued "It's much more manoeuvrable and precise than regular polearms. Plus the length gives me quite a bit of range. The non bladed end can also be used for bludgeoning attacks to stun enemies or to just hit them. It is one of the best possible weapons to use not only to fight Undead but also people. Thank goodness the British Museum steals historical things from other countries."

Having finished his noodles, Eddie sleuthed towards the weapon and picked it up. He then slammed the base of the yari into the marble floor, generating a thunderous echo. Brandon flinched. "What weapon have you chosen, Vin?" asked Eddie.

"Dual swords and dual hammers, plus myself as always." answered Vincent, eyes flickering back and forth from Eddie to his yari.

Eddie rolled his eyes and gripped his skull in mock pain.

"USE A POLEARM GODDAMIT!" screamed Eddie, "THE REACH IS UNMATCHED".

"YOU KNOW DUAL WIELDING IS BRILLIANT!" shouted Vincent in response, "I CAN BLOCK AND ATTACK AT THE SAME TIME.".

Eddie nodded and said "Nevermind you old bastard."

"You're older than me.." responded Vincent.

Ignoring Vin, Eddie asked "Brandon, are you still using that machete?"

Brandon nodded. "And an aluminium baseball bat."

"One for cutting, one for crushing. Not bad, both good for blocking too. I'll give you lessons sometime." promised Eddie.

"Really?" exclaimed Brandon, eyes lighting up "You'd do that for me,?"

Eddie nodded, "Yes of course" he smirked "Once you know how to fight properly you'll be twice as useful."

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream echoed from the entrance hall into the main hall - interrupting the pair's conversation. Eddie and Vincent immediately leaped into action, hurriedly sneaking towards the source of the sound. Both men had their weapons drawn; Eddie with his yari and Vincent with his dual swords.

Upon arriving in the entrance hall, the pair discovered that an Undead elderly lady had broken into the Museum. Presumably through the broken window nearby. We'll have to fortify all the windows properly, thought Eddie.

The elderly Undead lady shuffled forward, wearing a purple dress paired with an equally purple hat. Her clothes hung from her extraordinarily thin skeletal frame. She looked as though a strong gust of wind could shred her taut skin.

"It's just an old lady." said Eddie, resting his Yari on his shoulder.

Suddenly the old lady lunged forward, intent on ripping out Eddie's throat. Eddie barely managed to sidestep the Undead, dodging by mere millimetres.

Vincent then stepped forward and swung hard at the lady's exposed neck - beheading the Undead. He then turned to his friend, grinning.

"You got one upped by an old Undead lady. She could barely walk!" he exclaimed.

"Shut up," replied Eddie, "this never happened. I could have easily taken her. She just startled me. Shush."

Brandon struggled to hold back laughter until Eddie shot him a piercing glance that silenced him completely.

"Yeah, yeah. After you put her in storage, I'll take the first watch so you can keep reading Only Peace."

Eddie grudgingly agreed, looking forward to reading the manga. Brandon passed his master the partially read copy of Only Peace

Unbeknownst to the pair, a hooded figure in a school uniform had watched the entire confrontation. The figure had been watching the old men for several days and had noticed their sizable armoury. Quietly, he crept away and seemingly dissolved into the shadows. He re-materialised inside a dark stone chapel. Slowly he walked up the aisle, passing dozens of empty pews.

Head down, he trudged up the altar steps and kneeled.

"Rise" commanded a boyish voice from above the altar. The figure complied, still keeping his head down.

"Report" ordered the voice and the figure began to speak.

"There's just two of them. Old men. Old but fit. They've got at least a dozen guns. Pistols, shotguns and rifles. It appears Scout Brandon has betrayed us and joined them." whispered the figure.

"Excellent. We shall prepare for war immediately. Kill the old men and Brandon, take all their weapons. I shall add the Museum to my territory!" thundered the voice.

"Yes, My Liege." complied the figure, scoring away before dissolving into darkness once more.


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