Fighting the Cartel members was an extremely different prospect from fighting the ants.
For one thing… there were only ten of them. His stealth skill might only be at the most basic level… but it was trivial to slide through a broken window; one of the Cartel men was watching the backdoor, holding a submachinegun in his hand… and Grey quietly stepped right up to him… avoiding crunching the broken glass… and smashed a glass jar of venom directly into his face.
The man didn’t immediately go down. He struggled. Cried out… drawing the attention of others… but when two of the men rose to come back and see what was going on… the cops on the other side of the building opened fire, forcing them back into cover.
At this point… it was fairly trivial. It took some time for the venom to kick in… but when it did…
He dropped a circle of metal out of storage; actually a manhole cover, carved with the necromantic rune;carefully setting it down so that it didn’t make too much noise… and then stepped onto it, standing perfectly still…. As he reanimated the fallen criminal.
He was level 6; almost as high as Grey himself; so all he could imbue the new undead with was Stealth… but he did exactly that… sending his new pet in… and watching as he entered a room where four of his former companions were… and emptied the magazine of his submachinegun into the two crouched beneath a window.
The other two, staring back in shock, returned fire; one with a shotgun, the other an assault rifle… and after several rounds impacted him… and he started to just shamble forward, unable to muster the strength to reload the gun with his arms now damaged… and collapse to the floor.
They seemed shocked. Uncertain what to do.
After seeing the ‘Ranged Animation’ ability, he’d wondered just how far he could reach while animating them without that upgrade; and he felt… it was close. Just a few feet, literally within arm’s reach.
He dragged the manhole cover along the hallway, setting it by the wall… and focused… the men seemed a bit confused by the sound.
And when one of their other companions, slain by the submachinegun, lifted his own assault rifle; and emptied the magazine into his wounded companion, ahd the two healthy ones… they were caught off guard… and all left dying.
Five down, five to go.
He ordered his surviving zombie to run into the other room… as he started animating the first of his remaining victims… the zombie running in, swinging his empty assault rifle at his companions as he was seemingly uselessly gunned down…
Though one of the Cartel men was shortly gunned down by a cop from across the street as he got a bit too high up, a clearly augmented round impacting the back of his head. Four left. An assist. Good.
One of the remaining four, however… was holding a glowing red orb in his hand, one that seemed to be steadily growing in size… and hurled it back into the room that had once contained his companions.
A sudden burst of flame spread through the room, igniting both corpses and zombies… as well as the building itself. The man blinked… seeming to realize his mistake… and shouted something in spanish to his companions.
As they started heading for the back door, crouching down; one of them firing a few shots over his head to occupy the police… Grey took out another bottle of venom, holding it in his left hand… and the Right Hand of Death in his right… but, for now… did nothing. Watching the men inspect the room full of their dead brethren. See nothing… they didn’t even notice the manhole cover lying on the floor in the hallway… and after a brief discussion… they started to quietly creep out the still-open back door.
Only for another thrown bottle of venom to slam into the second one from the back; splattering shards of olive-oil and venom soaked glass across the group. None of them went down immediately; they all ran out the back door, opening fire on the building itself… and then…. Another fireball slammed into it.
Grey didn’t have much time for recrimination about his poor choices in the matter, as the orb slammed into the roof over his head… and the whole structure collapsed, pinning him beneath the burning debris. As a wooden support beam crushing his legs into the ground started to heat up, he glared at the retreating forms of two Cartel men…. While three had made it a few dozen yards, then collapsed, the last of them seemed perfectly fine… and were sprinting away, heading south.
After another, further collapse, he grunted… and tried to call out for help… but his chest was too badly pinned now. And the fire was growing hotter.
This… was a mistake. He’d underestimated them. Failed. And would likely be dead soon, unable to even beg for aid. He closed his eyes… the bottomless fury he’d felt since Nightfire had injured him directed at a new target as darkness claimed him… himself.
This was stupid. So, so damned stupid.
***
There was a notice floating in his face when he next awoke. Sore. Miserable. Lying on a gurney, a paramedic standing over him… a cool, soothing warmth spreading through his body. He could feel burned scales falling off, replaced by fresh, new ones, and broken bones mending… before the man gave him a pat on the shoulder, and left.
One of the cops stepped over… he recognized the man from the shoot-out. “...On the one hand… thanks. We caught the two runners, thanks to you, and stopped that particular band. There’s others being subdued all around the city, and the army actually got called in… but…. Be careful next time. That was stupid. We shouldn’t have let you go in alone.”
Grey nodded, as much as he could while lying on the gurney. “Yeah…. I got too used to dealing with animals. Unthinking creatures, that would be predictable, easily dealt with. Should’ve done something… smarter.”
He had ants in storage, still, plenty of them. He could summon a few, imbue them with stealth, and have them carry some fire sacks, or venom, or whatever. Pop them like suicide drones. Any number of approaches better suited than the hybrid he was, rather than acting like a warrior-assassin.
The officer patted him gently on the shoulder. “Just relax for a bit. These guys killed dozens of people just to gain levels and get stronger, both in Mexico and here. Maybe you were stupid, but you did a good thing. Saved lives.”
As the officer started walking away, Grey considered his words. Killing dozens of people… just to gain levels and get stronger. On the whole, most people were fairly weak. And if he picked the right place, weaker still.
He could easily, say, sneak into a retirement community… or even around his own neighborhood… and quietly act as an angel of death, leaving not even corpses behind… and vanishing off into Stealth.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
He could definitely do it. But… the rewards would be pitiful. Not even as much as five minutes worth of ant-slaying work. And to dramatically increase the potential problems with the law? No. Pointless.
These Cartel people would’ve been better off killing monsters; the system just didn’t seem to reward murdering civilians as…
He stopped. “...Officer.”
The man was talking to one of the paramedics; who, apparently, had reached level 5, and was now healing one of the other officers… and stepped back, looking a bit confused.
“Yes? Did you need something?”
“...Killing people, especially low-level civilians, doesn’t reward nearly as much as killing monsters. This wasn’t about getting levels and power. I thought it through. These people have some other objective.”
He blinked. “Thats… what? Instill terror in the locals?”
“No idea. Make a distraction from something more important? Blame the cartels while actually being local gangs? Impossible to say. Perhaps they have allies going in more quietly, breaking in and looting places while they splash about and make noise.”
He sighed. “...Yeah. All of that seems more likely.” He studied Grey for a moment, then shook his head, returning to the paramedic… as Grey slowly stretched, and rose from the stretcher.
There wasn’t much that needed doing. He should get back to what he was doing… go buy a tablet. Maybe a stack of them; he was much stronger now, and might accidentally break the next one, as well.
***
When he returned home after buying a load of groceries and three new tablets, with protective cases for the lot of course, he was partially through getting it setup; his new truck had some limited self-driving ability, probably thanks to its augmentation, since he didn’t believe the normal ones did; and he smelled… something absolutely terrible.
He frowned… and checked the door.
The knob was broken. Inside… there was a trail of blood, leading from the doorstep to the basement, and a pack of spiders; all of them about nine inches long; perched on the sofa, watching TV. They all turned to look at him, before turning back to avidly watch… a cartoon frog singing about which letters make what sound.
He grumbled, knowing what he was going to find before he reached the door… and of course, as he opened the basement door, there was a whimpering, bleeding thug wrapped up in spiderwebs, dangling from the ceiling.
He walked up to the man, looking him over for a moment. While he was a handy food supply, the spiders really shouldn’t be eating human. If they got a taste for it, they might start eating other sentients, and causing him problems.
He looked around for the mother… and when he spotted her, perched on an old card table, he nodded. “Thanks for the capture. But. Just to be clear… we don’t eat people.”
He walked up to the thug… who stared at him for a few seconds. “Oh, thank god! I was gonna rob the place, yes. But I don’t want to hurt anybody, just steal some stuff! I’ve got a van with stuff I robbed from other places, parked down the street. You let me go, I’ll cut you in!”
Grey studied the man. In the dim light of the basement, and with so much blood on him, it was hard to tell his skin tone, but he could make out at least one tattoo. He tapped the skin. “Gang signs?”
“Well… yeah?”
He nodded, and glanced at the mother spider. “He kill any of your babies?” This would be a good test. If she could understand, hopefully she…
The spider nodded. A clear, distinct movement… and then pointed at three crushed spider carcasses; purple and white, about six inches across.
He nodded back. “If they kill your babies, kill them. But don’t eat them. We don’t eat people. Thank you for protecting the home; and I’m sorry about your babies.” Of course he wasn’t. But sympathy was appropriate when someone lost children.
He pressed his claws into the man’s throat; tearing at the tender flesh, injecting venom into the veins… he could feel the warmth, the sensation of blood pulsing around his scales…and the thief started to writhe and twitch, trying to escape, as the blood pooled on the floor beneath him. “If you bring prey back here, and kill it without getting caught, it makes you, and all your babies, just slightly stronger. If you’re the only one there when you kill it, it makes just you stronger. Understand?”
The mother nodded again. “The next time I go out without my team, I’ll bring you and your babies if you want. If we kill enemies, even if the babies don’t help, just being nearby makes them stronger… though the closer they are, the better. Could they be trusted to hide under a tarp, in the back of the truck?”
A slow side to side. That would be a no then. “Probably not til they’re ready then. Do you need more food?” Another head-shake. “Alright then. I’ll be catching some sleep. I’ll be heading out to get more food in the morning. Try to keep the kids from being seen by the neighbors.”
The arachnid leapt atop an odd sort-of shelter made from ant bits held together by web, and chittered at him… before he reached out, touching the man. He focused.
For just a moment, he stared at the box. Uncommon boots. Armored boots. That was… that was amazing! If he could still feel joy, it would’ve flooded him.
He immediately pulled the boots out of inventory; and set them on the floor… trying them on. At first, they were a bit loose… but after a few moments.. They grew tight. Fitting perfectly.
He had roughly zero confidence in handmade shoots made from Ant chitin. But if he could just use them as shoe covers or something… very nice.
He still had a level-up to handle, and as he headed upstairs to what would now be his bedroom.. And where someone had done a mediocre job of mopping up a bloodstain… he shut and locked the door, lay down… and consulted his options. He wanted to upgrade ‘Undead Control’. If it was like ‘Undead Animation’, there should be four options. He focused on what they were.
There we go. Thirty-two worker ants, or a couple dozen and a few Soldiers, would be enough to make a huge difference in most fights, whether they were against ants or not. He selected Horde control immediately, and studied his stats for a moment…
Agility and Mind enhanced reflexes and quick-thinking. Power and Stamina would dictate how many times he could animate zombies, how fast he could create venom, the potency of it, so forth. He also figured his Power would translate into stronger abilities for his undead… so. He slapped two of his Free points into Power; and one into Mind, to even it out with Agility.
If he had the information right, that meant he should have better reflexes than any human pre-system; and also, hopefully, than most of the people he ran across. He settled in to sleep, tablet set on the table beside him; ready to notify him if something important came up.
