Meanwhile...

Fire couldn’t remember the last time their heart raced like this.

He had sensed them.

This surge of adrenaline was what had put them on this path to being an MPKer in the first place. It had become routine long since, but it was refreshing to know that their body could still react like that to events in a videogame.

Fire counted themselves lucky that Hirrus had been distracted by the need to dig around in the ruins instead of trying to follow whatever sound had tipped him off to their presence. Luckily, their invisibility Arcana kept them safe.

For now.

They took the opportunity to observe.

He was just desperately clawing at a mound of bricks, but the way he moved was fascinating in itself. The efficiency in his movement was machine-like, but there was still emotion in every line of his face.

His actions were also clearly emotion-driven. There was no one left alive here. Why bother digging if not for some emotional response?

Hirrus could easily be mistaken for a human, but to the practiced eye, no human could move like that. He was interacting with the world in a way that was nearly flawless. No hint of human clumsiness or hesitation.

Fire might not like it, but that was what peak performance looked like. Even if it was somehow being driven by artificial emotions to behave illogically on occasion.

It was obvious from the intent in Hirrus' steps when he arrived that he was looking to march right up the Hari Path to Shemil, where Rumi was engaged with his diabolical plan for world domination, or whatever he thought he was doing. Hirrus was probably the most dangerous living being on the server, so exposure to him was likely to be as fatal to the plan as exposure to water was for rice paper, especially if Fire’s suspicions about Hirrus' motives were accurate.

Hirrus was going to rip Rumi limb from limb, just like he’d done to the rest of Last of the Strong.

As soon as that conclusion was reached, Fire had put the word out among their fellow MPKers through their group chat channel, setting into motion defenses that would stop Hirrus' advance.

Or at least slow him down.

(Rumi Chatham): What are you doing?

Fire winced instinctively at the little ping that accompanied the direct message. Nobody else could hear it, but when a man who could rip you limb from limb was rooting around in rubble only a couple yards away, any sound could be the last thing you hear for the week.

(Fire Pulmundo): You’ll have to be more specific. I’m a multitasker, you know.

Skittering through the ruins away from Hirrus was difficult to do silently, since the ground was covered in broken glass and shattered brick. But Fire had lived on the fringe of in-game society for years with a Kill-On-Sight order hanging over their head.

Stealth had long since gone from a hobby to a way of life.

They could have stayed where they were and talked to Rumi just fine, but the man had a gift for being weird enough to cause Fire to sigh or grumble at an inopportune moment.

At least Fire knew their mask and mystique irritated him as much as he irritated them.

(Rumi Chatham): Your people are doing something without telling me anything. They only do that hewn you tell them to.

(Rumi Chatham): *when

Fire pressed their lips tightly together to avoid muttering “obviously” loud enough to catch Hirrus' attention. They needn’t have worried, though, as they were nearly back to the town square where he’d left Alric behind.

Far enough out of earshot for a whisper not to carry.

Fire knew they could walk right up on Alric without concern. Not only was the kid so scared of his own shadow he wouldn’t hear Fire doing jumping jacks behind him over his own panicked gasps for breath, but he was only level six. They could slap him down without breaking a sweat.

(Fire Pulmundo): He’s coming. Presumably for your part in the incident in Yenon.

Naming him wasn’t necessary. There was only one person Fire could be talking about, and so Rumi would obviously--

(Rumi Chatham): Who?

Fire blinked at the message incredulously.

Did… Did they really have to tell him?

Was he messing with them?

Or was he going to figure it out in a few seconds?

“Hello?” Alric said with a yelp, waving a dagger around in the air.

Looking over at him, Fire noted that he was still about fifteen feet away. The dagger was far from able to reach them.

They must have scoffed audibly at Rumi’s foolishness and freaked him out.

It wasn’t important.

Fire returned their attention to picking their way towards the south end of the ruined town.

(Rumi Chatham): Who are you talking about? Did you zone or something?

(Fire Pulmundo): Hirrus. You know, Hirrus Callabryn?

It was a long time until Rumi’s next message. Presumably he was cursing and storming around demanding that Fire’s people shore up the defenses and prepare for the worst. It would take a minute for him to learn that Fire had already put those orders out.

(Fire Pulmundo): We can take care of him now. I just need to throw two or three at him and that’ll be it.

There was a building at the south edge of this little shit town that was mostly intact. It had at one point been the stables, and behind it, Fire had hidden their wagon, which would let them escape quickly and quietly from Hirrus before he even knew they were there.

But more than that, the back of the wagon held the resources Fire needed to fight him.

Fire could kill Hirrus the same way they’d killed anyone else. They just had to unleash enough resources in his vicinity and watch the fireworks. All they needed was Rumi’s approval so that the fickle lunatic didn’t try to cut Fire and their people out of the big cushy reward waiting at the end of this job.

(Rumi Chatham): Absolutely not.

(Fire Pulmundo): It’s your funeral. Did you want a shallow grave, or do you prefer cremation?

(Fire Pulmundo): You know what, nevermind. I’ve got a carnivorous Reputable Monster that gets reduced upkeep if I feed it meat.

Fire snickered quietly to themselves. They’d believed Rumi was a little unwell from his unhealthy obsession with violence and suffering, but unless the man was literally insane, there was no way he had actually just objected to the idea of putting a nice and easy end to Hirrus.

Not after what had happened to Rumi’s guild.

(Rumi Chatham): Just one. Set one loose and report the results. I need to know what these things are capable of, after all. I need to know their limitations. Their weaknesses.

(Fire Pulmundo): Just to make sure I have this 100% clear. You want me to not just skip the opportunity to kill HIRRUS CALLABRYN, but you want me to take valuable resources and slam-dunk them right in the trash can.

(Fire Pulmundo): Have you ever heard of the Evil Overlord List? I can send you a link if you need.

The wagon rode low on its suspension under the weight of its cargo. They hadn’t gotten this far in the MPKer business just taking the monsters they’d slaved to capture and transport and let them loose where they would be barely a minor inconvenience.

They almost decided to lie. To say that they’d done it rather than ride out of here with the wagon riding just a little lighter with literally nothing to show for the loss.

But Rumi was paying the bills.

And Fire had plenty of bills to pay.

(Rumi Chatham): “Knowledge is power.” - Francis Bacon. I’ll trade one of them for knowledge any day of the week. Just one, though. The process is still a work in progress.

It took a long moment for Fire to compose a message that didn’t sound as sarcastic as they felt like being.

Rumi was being stupid. It didn’t seem like they’d be out of line to call him out on it.

But they knew he was unstable.

Rumi was the one interested in poking the bear. Fire was the one too smart for that. They just had to take a moment to remind themselves to be internally consistent.

(Fire Pulmundo): Consider it done.

They ground their teeth for a long moment, trying to fight the urge to call for one of their people to assassinate Rumi on the spot and be done with this foolishness so that they’d be free to put an end to the threat Hirrus represented.

But there was something keeping Rumi alive, and that hadn’t changed.

“Three million,” Fire whispered to themselves. The payout Rumi had promised at the end of this.

Just by itself, the number was instant relief.

A balm for the agony of what they were about to do.

“Three million, three million, three million. Just one week of work. Three million.”

The mantra made them feel a little better. They were still royally pissed. But as long as the money kept coming, they’d bend the knee. And even if it didn’t, as long as they could keep their hands on just one of these things at the end of the week, the potential power of Fire’s operation would be exponentially higher.

The back of the wagon was loaded with them. It was a small wagon, with only room enough inside for four people under normal circumstances. It was packed to eight now.

“I need a volunteer,” Fire said quietly into the packed wagon. “There are two men in this town here who seek to bring this whole operation to a shrieking halt. One of them has the power to do it. And one of you has the privilege to stop him.”

One of the people started to muscle his way through the group towards Fire, eyes gleaming with undisguised hunger.

Fire liked his initiative.

It was a shame what was about to happen to him.

But orders were orders.