Work Order complete

Time Elapsed Since Last XP Gain: 231

+12,474,000 XP

+1 Level [Level 53]

+1 Class Point

I stood on the bridge's catwalk, enjoying the ocean breeze, going over my post-battle paperwork. Mostly just checking XP gain, looking at performance stats, hull integrity, that sort of thing. Meanwhile, I had one of the rebels help aim a mining turret so that we could work into that defeated battleship. Recycling the entire thing would've been amazing for resources and XP, but it would've taken several days, and besides that, it was sinking. Instead, I ordered the rebels to get me those rare recipes. More specifically, the battleship cannons.

The imperial cargo ship was now linked deck-to-deck with us, and our guys were milling about over there. Some checked the cargo hold, others still brought over the remaining crew, and before long, a guy announced up at the officers that it was all of them.

Just four sailors and a captain.

They were brought to our deck--sweaty faces, nervous eyes--and pushed to their knees. Our rebel crewmen stood around with guns at the ready. The Card King and the other rebel leaders walked over for the interrogation.

I was none too interested. I had all these class points, and I needed to put them somewhere.

Engine Power 3 unlocked.

Engine Power 4 unlocked.

Material Density 4 unlocked.

Material Density 5 unlocked.

This might've been overkill.

Engines: 10

Total Engine Power: 150,000

Fuel Drain: 15,000 F/s || 30,000 ( W )

Ship Speed: 51 kph || 27 knots

The fuel drain was really digging into our resource gain, but that was fine. We had gotten to the point where I was just jettisoning most of the unused water element from the hold just so we could recycle more for the XP. Since the XP wouldn't change, it was fine to lose out on some resources.

What really mattered now was that we were fast as fuck, and the density of our armor had increased by 50%. Incredible.

The officers barked an order, and the prisoners were taken to the cargo lift. It seemed like I now had to worry about prisoners of war. The Card King stomped up the metal stairs beneath me, and when he reached talking distance, he looked up and said, "We're moving the shards over. It'll take a few hours."

I groaned. "We still don't know the situation of the other rebel group. I don't want to fuck around more than I need to."

The Card King shook his head. "We don't know what Marianna needs these Cosmic Shards for, and the crew didn't either, but we have evidence that she's up to no good."

"Then just sink the ship," I said.

He shook his head. "Docter Jackelope told us it was highly rare and valuable."

"Fine. Whatever. Get it done quickly." I shooed him away.

He hurried off, and the work began.

The crew brought out trolleys and armfuls of those glowing crystal chards to dump them into piles. It was a full ant line of work across the two decks.

Work Order:

Visual Monitor Network

50 Visual Monitors

Hull Expansion 20m W

Room: Apocathary

Room: Magic Engineering

Room: Training Center

Room: Firing Range

Room: Livestock Storage

30 Dorm Rooms

Total: 740,550,000 W

Resource Gain: 60,000 W/s

Estimated Time Remaining: 206 Minutes

Fantastic. The rooms would give my comrades something to do while being productive. The extra living area was needed since I anticipated more recruits the next time we docked, and the hull widening was necessary. We were getting long but not wide, and it was starting to make us a bit unstable.

The visual monitors already began to unfold. Cassandra had put them in various points of the ship, mostly to help with communications. I watched in fascination as this magic-or-technology-or-hybrid came alive with a moving image of another place, a window across the ship. In the bridge, the monitors slept within slots on the ceilings or walls, and they could be summoned down to display whatever I wanted it to.

I gave it a test. I clicked over to the cafeteria. The Gimp King was there, rifling around in the refrigerator. The Card King was with him, and by the looks of it--yep--the Card King challenged him to a game of cards.

Boring. I clicked to the next.

Vil and his girlfriend in the lounge. Next.

Jessie... naked in her workshop. She was posing in front of the monitor as if it was a mirror, like, really going at it. "You know I can see you, right?" she said.

I panicked. She laughed. I clicked away in a hurry.

And the view changed to a room I didn't recognize. It was dark. The room appeared vaguely empty, and in the center, five blurry figures with a bunch of clothes on the floor.

"Cassandra, what room is this?"

"Cargo hold 7," she said.

"Turn the lights on in it."

"They are on," she said.

I squinted closer. It was somehow black in there. Was it smoke?

"Imsi," said Cassandra, "I'm detecting rising pressure in cargo hold 7 and an unknown gas."

My eyes widened. I could see it now. Those five figures were the cargo ship's crew, now hunched over, bodies darkening and skin churning, their pores shooting out a black and green gas. At their feet, several rebel guards now twitching on the floor.

Goddamnit.

"Raise the alarm. Seal the cargo hold."

The alarm began to wail, people on the decks froze in shock.

"Captain!" a woman's voice shouted. It came from the officer's lounge monitor. "Black fumes are coming from the vents! We've found several unconscious already!"

Doc Jackelope was on the other ship. He shouted across, "What's happening, Redrim?"

I waved him back. "Just stay on that ship. It's under control."

I checked the monitors again. The black smoke had poured into several compartments, and those inside had been rendered unconscious. Shit. We were losing crew to this, and while the smoke had been cut at the source, the remaining fumes carried throughout the ship.

"Cassandra," I said, "I need you to--"

A flash. A boom. I winced and was knocked aside, and when I could catch myself, I saw the cargo ship lit aflame. Our guys jumped across onto our decks, including Doc Jackelope, but the cargo ship and the rest of its loot were gone.

"Cassandra. Seal all bulkheads."

"Imsi, the unknown gas is caustic, and it's slowly eating through the ship's hull. I estimate four minutes until it breaches the cargo hold."

Jessie appeared onscreen. "Redrim, you cocksucker! Why did you lock me in?"

"Everyone's locked in. Shut up and don't breathe the black gas. It's poison or something."

She groaned. "Don't you have nullification potions or something?"

Shit, I was an idiot. I forgot about that. "Cassandra," I said. "Detonate a few nullification potions."

I felt the rush of mana wind pulse through the ship, then I swapped visuals. The blue light passed through the cargo room, but it was ineffective against the gas. I swapped back over to Jessie. "It didn't work."

She was already wearing a gas mask, and her voice was muffled behind it. "Create an airlock. Make a ventilation room where I can put air filters and have all the vents connect through it. Then, we can pump raw air element through to push out the gas."

"I'll give it a shot." I swiped her away. The view returned to the cargo hold. Somehow, the corpses of the five crewmen combined into a single, tall creature. It was black, made of something neither fur nor smoke, and it turned--and looked right at me through the screen.

I had seen this before. It was a demon. Could this be the work of--

The comm-phone rang, and I picked it up. It was the hero party healer. "Admiral Redrim, there's a curse circulating throughout this ship. I'll need to cleanse it, but I can't leave this room."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Cassandra said, "I've begun work on the ventilation system and the filtration room. I will unlock only the specific route to take her there."

"Thanks," I told Cassandra. "I'm having a path made for you now," I told the healer. "We're venting the air to pass through a single room, and you should be able to purify it there as it passes."

"Very well, Admiral."

I could hear on her end of the line that a door clacked open. A party of footsteps pounded out.

I double-checked the ship's layout. The filtration room was closer to the center of the ship, while the cargo bay was further toward the front and just off to the side. If this was an actual demon, I doubted that the heroes could take it on alone.

I swapped the screen back over to the coffee lounge, and my heart dropped. Vil and Lara had fallen unconscious, and in the ceiling of the room, a black fog.

Fuck!

I jumped out of the bridge and landed hard onto the deck. Crewmen jumped back in shock.

Turret (Left) activated.

My left arm reformed into a cannon array.

Hmm-click.

+1 Longsword (Rare)

I ran down the stairwell and into the lower decks. I didn't have lungs, so the gas wouldn't knock me unconscious, but it was still caustic enough to damage me, so I had to be fast.

Down here, I could smell the curse gas, and it smelled like syrup and ash. I sprinted down the halls, and the smell thickened. I passed by some knocked-out rebels, some old women, some I recognized.

I felt terrible. It might've been a sneak attack, but these people threw their lot in with mine, and I had direct responsibility for their lives. A failure here was my failure, and it was unacceptable.

"Imsi," said Cassandra. "The healer has arrived, and I've sealed the filtration room. I will now flood the compartments with fresh air."

"Go ahead," I ordered.

-300,000 Air Element

A burst of wind roared past me, clean and crisp, but the smell of curse still lingered.

I hurried against the push of the wind, ran down the halls and around the corners, and stopped when I found the healer party.

"Sir Redrim!" the knight said. "Heavens, my friend, you aren't protected by the holy blessing! It's too dangerous for you!"

"My skin feels mulchy, but I'm fine." I nodded at the healer inside the filtration room. It glowed with golden light inside, and I could see her twirling around inside as she channeled the spell. The ship rumbled again, another burst of hurricane-force wind, and I felt the chill of fresh air again.

-500,000 Air Element

"Relax, my friend," said the knight. "This is far from the worst demon magic she's had to face, and we'll have it fixed in no time!" He laughed proudly.

I looked back down the hall. I sensed danger there, and the lights seemed somehow darker. The ship shook again, this time with twisting, groaning, snapping metal.

"Imsi," Cassandra said. "The cargo hold has burst open. All adjacent compartments have now been contaminated."

"And the air?" I asked her.

"Currently 99% clean."

The filtration door hissed open, and the healer stepped out.

Before anyone could say anything, I said, "I need a holy enchantment on this weapon." I showed her the sword.

She blinked, smiled, then thrust her staff at me. She whispered the spell, and a pale light shimmered across not only my sword but my gun arm. Now I was ready.

"Well, Sir Redrim?" said the knight. "Won't you invite us to this demon slaying?"

The sent wolf's grins at me, and I drank them up. "Then let's slay a demon, shall we?"

We hurried down the hallway, and with my hip lasers, I cut into the cargo hold. The walls snapped open from the pressure, and a tsunami of curse fog crashed out.

The healer cast her purification spell again, but the fog was too thick. Her magic was plenty strong, but it didn't hit a wide enough area.

If only I had something to increase spell power. Of course. I did have something like that.

Hmm-click.

+1 Dragon's Blood Potion

I took it out--a sparkling red orb--and I hurled it into the darkness. It shattered, and a red mist mixed in with the fog. The healer cast again, but this time, the spell sparked against the red mist, conducted by it, and the golden light of the purification spell erupted within the cargo hold.

It hit us with an airy blast, and in an instant, and the dark fog vanished. In the center of the room, we could see it now.

The demon.

Black fog poured from its flesh. It sat on an overturned crate, slumped over almost as if bored. It was tall. Red skin. Horns. Thin wispy tail. Thick-rimmed glasses. Thin waist, long legs, and... breasts.

Oh no.

This wasn't a demon.

It was a succubus.

A succubus by the name of X'gghtrykiska Demonica K'rtraskova.

Or just Kisk, for short.

She turned her head to us, she noticed me, and her cat's eyes widened.