Death Smith - Book 2 - Chapter 14 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Bloody VIP Four days later. Mid-April, 14 AR. United Kingdom, London. Lance shook his head as he got his bearings again, tasting his blood in his mouth. He swallowed the salty and metallic tasting liquid, afterwards directing his gaze at the man in front of him. Although Lance was well above average in terms of height, the man facing him was even taller. The man looked like a younger and meaner version of Dieter, with thick cables for muscles on his limbs and a broad and developed back that even looked intimidating to Lance. “Did your sister teach you that one?” Lance asked the man, feeling words leave his mouth that were unnatural to him. Still, they proved effective, because the tall fighter rushed at him again just as Lance got back up. Lance evaded the fury of blows, ducking underneath several of them as Lance retaliated with three jabs of his own. He forced a bit more power and speed behind them to startle the man. The last one had hit the fighter in the nose, forcing a small trickle of blood from one nostril. ‘That felt right,’ Lance thought, circling the man and seeing the other fighters watch him. Lance had bloodied and bruised a few of those onlookers during earlier sparring matches. Forcing himself to keep his strength and speed to more average levels, Lance tried to keep up with the large fighter and his punches. No matter how Lance looked at it, the man had far better technique and rhythm, not to mention years of experience. Lance wasn’t sure what his name was again, thinking it was either Michal or Mitch. The trainer had told Lance the fighter’s name before they had gotten in the ring. Apparently, the large man had been a heavyweight fighter that had been doing well, but the legal boxing circuit had banned him because of his less than legal activities. Not to mention his many altercations with the police. Not a pleasant person to interact with, but people like him were perfect for Lance. Lance had been going to this gym for three days in a row after striking a deal with the trainer that ran the place. This meant that Lance could fight several of their toughest fighters, while they made sure his sessions there didn’t leave the gym and become public knowledge. In return, Lance had to sign several waivers and spend a bit of his hard-earned money. In the past, the amount might have startled him, but after having dealt with four Rifts as an independent Rifter, Lance had gotten used to the larger cash flow. To keep the fighters motivated and committed, Lance had offered them three thousand pounds if they could knock him out. Lance rushed forwards again, keeping low and evading a few of the taller man’s jabs or enduring those that eventually reached him. He felt the area around his Rift-shard throb and ache again, as a gut feeling began to manifest itself. ‘Left!’ He wasn’t sure if it was a feeling or an actual thought, but it assaulted him, his chest aching even more as he tasted fresh blood in his mouth. The moment this happened, Lance spotted the fighter’s left elbow going for Lance’s face. Lance managed to dodge just in time. ‘He is really going for it,’ Lance thought, backing off again to collect himself. The fighter he was facing simply smiled, unashamed at the fact that he would resort to foul play such as using his elbow. Your average person would be upset, but Lance was glad the man had done just that. He wanted the experience of facing a technical threat that would stop at nothing. If he wanted to have a chance at subduing Kira, Louis, or Connor, he would need to grow, both in levels and experience. Fighting a monster wouldn’t be the same as fighting an actual human that knew how to fight back. Still, the discomfort around his shard was increasing. Not to mention the strange dreams, behaviour, and thoughts he was having. He realised that something was off, as if there was something else inside of him, fighting to get to the surface, to be noticed. ‘What the hell is wrong with me,’ he thought as he tried to focus and send out a few fast jabs, keeping the large fighter at a distance. At first, he thought it might have been fatigue or symptoms of damage he had sustained to his head when Thomas had thrown them both off a cliff. Or when the Rift had spat him out afterwards. More often he felt like there was something trapped inside of him, trying to become a part of him, sharing behavioural traits, knowledge, or insight. The fighter blocked Lance’s next jab and stepped in to deliver a painful body blow right where Lance’s liver was. Although Lance was faster, the fighter’s experience allowed him to adjust to Lance’s rhythm and patterns. The fighter rushed at Lance, hammering lefts and rights into him as he closed the distance. Lance forced himself to restrict his strength and speed. He endured the onslaught. Lance’s increased Endurance meant that he could take one hell of a beating, but the fighter was clearly intent on chipping away at Lance. ‘Left.’ Again, Lance felt strange as he felt the sensation ring more clearly in his mind. As predicted, Lance noticed the tall fighter shoot forwards as the fighter’s left elbow beelined towards Lance’s face. ‘Now!’ The sensation became louder and louder as it screamed at Lance’s soul until something snapped. As if someone else placed a hand on the steering-wheel, Lance’s body moved, leaning to his right as a large elbow grazed his cheek. Before Lance realised, he had already moved his right hand, launching it straight up as it connected with the fighter’s chin. It had forced the man flying backwards into the ropes with enough force to topple him over it and out of the ring. ‘Thomas?’ Lance thought, taken aback at what had happened. ‘Thomas!’ he howled inside his mind but got no response. There was no way to describe what had just taken place. Naturally, Lance knew what a counter was and what an uppercut looked like, with Daniel having trained him well. But Lance had never landed a counter like this. It was as if Lance suddenly could rely on years of boxing experience to judge when an opponent would strike and how to take advantage of an opening in a split second. The movements and style reminded him of Thomas. Noticing the stares of the other fighters, Lance made his way over to the trainer as he handed the man back the gloves Lance had borrowed. “Thanks again for letting me train here. It has really helped me,” Lance said, trying to be as polite as possible. “I’ll say. You just knocked out Mathew. I never have seen anyone do that before,” The man said with a smile as he moved closer to Lance. ‘Mathew! I knew it,’ Lance lied to himself and nodded to the trainer. “Sorry about that. I’ll ease his pain a bit before I go.” “No, no. You did great, Lad. You have my number. If you ever want to do something beyond clearing a Rift. You call me and I’ll set something up for us,” the trainer said, patting Lance on the back as if they had been childhood friends. “I will,” Lance lied, grabbing his things, and shoving them back in his backpack before he placed a hand on his face and activated his skill, illuminating his body in a bright blue light. Normally he’d feel self-conscious about drawing attention to himself, but the fighters there knew he was a Rifter, and he had healed himself a few times already. He grabbed his backpack as he then made his way over to the unconscious fighter. He then placed a hand on the fighter. ‘Mend wounds’ ‘Mend wounds’ Twice he forced healing energy into the man, knitting damage and lessening fatigue. He’d probably be all right after a few minutes, but the former nurse inside Lance preferred not to risk leaving someone with a concussion. He left shortly after that, leaving the bewildered fighters behind as they saw Mathew suddenly wake up with only a minor bruise to show for it. It would be the last time Lance went to this place, seeing as he had fought their strongest fighters already. He would switch to a different combat sport next time. He wanted to experience a lot of unique styles of combat to further his growth. This after he made sense of what the hell had just happened to him. Still, that had to wait until later that night, seeing as he had a date with a member of the Walker family. * * * * * “But you are a Rifter?” Oliver asked Lance two hours later. The boy’s left eyebrow was raised as high as it could. Lance nodded once, wondering why all the redheads in the Walker family were so confrontational and direct. “Yes, shard and all.” “So, why are we taking a bus?” The thirteen-year-old redhead asked.

Lance was thankful that the subject was about transportation and not about his meeting with Kate. He was still very much unsure what to make of it all beyond exciting, but Lance was not in the mood to explain it to her little brother.

“Did you prefer to walk then? I don’t have a spare car lying around,” Lance answered young Oliver, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his voice. He wasn’t upset with him, and he knew why Oliver had asked it. Most Rifters had fancy cars or even personal drivers. Some even had personal helicopters or jets to take them from place to place. Lance was upset because his jaw was still sore from the punches he had taken, as well as him still being confused and unsettled at what was going on inside of his mind. To make matters worse, he had nearly snapped his phone in half when he had read the news article on his phone about a massive expansion and acquisition move from an American guild. At the first page of the article, Lance had seen the picture of Ryan Moore, one of the most influential Rifters in America, and the owner of said guild. He was similar in appearance to his younger brother, if not more physically developed. The man’s appearance and fancy clothes drew the attention of a reader. To Lance, the man barely existed. Lance had instead focused his gaze on the younger brother next to Ryan. Connor stood there with a warm and charismatic smile, happy to be in the spotlight with his brother. The only reason Lance’s phone was still intact, beyond it being expensive, was the fact that Oliver was sitting right next to him. Thomas would have torn Lance a new one if he had learned that Lance had thrown a tantrum next to Oliver. So, Lance forced it all down. He pushed those thoughts and feelings about Connor back down, letting them smoulder along with the rest of those feelings. “Right?” Oliver asked, nudging Lance to get his attention again. “You will eventually get a car, right?” “Perhaps. Or a moped, a pink one,” Lance said jokingly, knowing the lad was optimistic about Lance’s prospects. “Here, this will get your mind off me owning a car,” he explained before placing a folded piece of paper in the young man’s hand. The paper contained the autographs of Noel, Claudia, and Myles, with them even writing a few kind words along with it. The way Oliver’s jaw dropped was priceless and more than enough to remove the unpleasant mood he was feeling. Besides that, Lance had also agreed to Oliver ‘helping’ him by mailing articles about interesting Rift related things or send some inspirational Music. ‘He is like Thomas’s clone. It is only a matter of time before he starts condemning my choice of music,’ Lance thought. “This is our stop. Grab your things,” Lance said, nudging the lad into action as the two of them got out of the bus and made their way over to the Rift Museum in the distance. Large banners showing Rift-shards, monsters, strange weaponry and Rifters were on display. “Are you ready for a treat?” Lance asked the young man as they reached the entrance and passed a line of people that were waiting to buy their ticket and get inside. Instead, Lance made his way over to the side and went straight towards an employee that was on a smoke break and standing outside. “Hey there. Mind fetching your supervisor?” Lance asked before he materialised a monster horn out of thin air and threw it in an arc so that the man could catch it in time. “I’d like to make a donation.” * * * * * “Thank you so much for your contribution to the museum… and for your service to this country,” the supervisor said, although Lance figured the man was more pleased about the former. “I hope you and your brother have a pleasant experience with us. I’ll be back after a while, but ask the aide here for any help, should you need something!” “We will,” Lance said, glad to be freed of the man’s presence. He had figured the donation would allow him and his ‘younger brother’ quick access to the museum and VIP status. What Lance failed to calculate was the amount of time he had lost because of the supervisor’s chatty nature. Still, seeing Oliver’s excited face and the lanyard around his neck that displayed a VIP status was worth it. They had allowed Oliver to touch and hold certain items, even lift a rare red mana stone, and take a picture together as the two of them posed in front of a large monster claw. “Lance! They have Ogre teeth here… and white-shards! Come check it out,” Oliver exclaimed as Lance moved towards him with the aide in tow. “You are right, that is neat,” Lance said, watching several white-shards in a row, with their sizes increasing the further along you went. From what Lance could read, they belonged to mice, birds, a human and even a cow. What startled Lance even more was the description on the plaque underneath the mouse’s white-shard. It explained where they had found it and that the mouse had lived for three years, nearly double their normal lifespan. ‘I wonder what that means for humans?’ Lance wondered, deciding to read more about it when he had the time. “Look, that one is even bigger than yours,” Oliver said with a grin. Lifting his t-shirt, Lance tapped against his own shard. “Well, it isn’t the size of the shard, you know.” “Can we touch them? Please?” Oliver asked the aide, even going as far as to abuse his innocent bright green eyes. “Err… fine. I guess it is fine. It is one of the strongest materials known to man. Just don’t drop it all right?” the aide said reluctantly. “We won’t,” Oliver said, his fingers eagerly moving towards the first shard when the protective glass was raised. A bit curious himself, Lance decided to touch the white-shard that had belonged to a human. From what he read, it was donated by a Rifter that had died due to his or her injuries. The donor was kept anonymous as instructed. The second Lance touched the shard he noticed his status screen showing a new notification. [Item can be forged. Templates available: 1] [Required Shards: 100. Do you wish to continue?] [Yes] [No] Lance quickly removed his hands from the shard, as if burned by it. He remembered the way he had felt back when he had seen that notification, thinking he could save Thomas with it. Knowing he’d be self-loathing later that evening when he was alone, Lance instead focused on what it meant. ‘Does that mean I can make more companions like Ash?’ He touched it once more, just to be sure, seeing the notification popped up. Curious what the other would do, Lance began to touch the smaller and larger white-shards but did not notice any notification pop up. ‘I think that means that I can only use this template on fallen humans,’ Lance thought. He continued touching a white-shard that had belonged to a pigeon at one point. He opened several different menus until he got to a notification that noted the item’s weight and durability. Nearly closing it, Lance noticed a small icon before pressing it. [Unknown template. Base 5% chance of discovery when destroying this item.] [Do you wish to destroy this item?] [Yes] [No] Lance quickly released the white-shard as his eyes widened. ‘I never had that choice before!’ he thought. He remembered the hours he had spent with Thomas in the hospital when they had become Rifters. They had explored the menus of their system to learn as much about it. After that Daniel and Dieter had filled in the rest. ‘Is this a class specific thing?’ He asked himself, his thoughts racing chaotically. He opened his own inventory and focused on a certain item, trying to see if this was indeed the case. Focusing on one of the javelins he had made from bone and a horn, Lance opened the other menu’s before he reached the option. [Unknown template. Base 25% chance of discovery when destroying this item.] [Do you wish to destroy this item?] [Yes] [No] ‘This is amazing!’ Lance thought as he forced himself to act normal, since Oliver and the aide were staring at him. ‘The chance of discovery is much higher this time. Is it because I made the item myself?’ Lance mused. After opening the same option on a bunch of things such as his steel axe, knife, and his phone, he learned a few things. ‘Some things I cannot get a template from, such as my phone. And the chance of discovery starts at 5%, with it being higher if I made it myself,’ Lance thought as he ran a hand through Oliver’s hair to let him know that he was all right. “Sorry, it just felt a bit surreal to me, touching other shards. I am going to get us some drinks, all right?” Lance asked Oliver before moved away from the displays. As he did so, he grabbed his phone and began texting Daniel, asking him for a favour. As he finished sending his text, Lance reached the small kiosk and flashed his VIP badge. He ordered two drinks and some snacks, and as the women behind the register asked if he wanted straws for the drinks, Lance replied in the same manner as the choice he had just made within his status screen. [Yes] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Author: Osirium Copyright: 2022 OsiriumWrites Released: 2022