Kurisu's mouth felt dry. He hunched over, one hand on his knee, dragging air into his lungs in coarse, uneven gasps.
"Think…" he coughed. "We're in the clear."
Radahk, to Kurisu's left, grunted. Completely unfazed by the amount of exercise.
"Yes"
"How are you not sweating?" Kurisu yelped.
"I am an adult," Radahk frowned.
Kurisu rolled his eyes as he turned away. He was too tired to respond. He looked in the distance, a squat, broken structure jutted out from the sand and scattered rock.
Kurisu exhaled, almost a laugh.
"There…" he muttered. "We can stay there for tonight."
Radahk gave a single nod.
After covering the distance, Kurisu collapsed onto the wooden floor of the ruined house.
"You hungry?" he asked, already pulling jerky from inside his clothing.
Radahk sat down and took some without comment. He leaned back slightly and looked up through the collapsed roof.
Above them, a planet and its distant moon hung in the sky, reflected faintly in his amber eyes.
Kurisu followed his gaze.
"We're free now… eh?" His voice was filled with melancholy.
"Yes," the word left Radahk's lips in an exhale.
For the first time, he seemed relaxed.
Silence settled between them.
The mourning wind outside slowly hushed the world into stillness.
"Human…" Kurisu felt someone shaking him awake.
"5 more minutes," he rolled onto his side.
"Human!" Kurisu felt someone slap his face.
Kurisu sat up in silence, held his cheek and turned.
"That hurt," he said flatly.
"We have company," Radahk said with a furrowed brow.
"Fuck"
Kurisu rose to his feet. He began making his way to the door.
'Company' means only one thing in this shitty desert. He moved the tarp to the side.
Six people who appeared to be farmers stood outside, straw hats, light armour and thin limbs with joints bulging slightly held up rusted herding poles, sabres, and Katanas that looked like they were about to break. They locked onto Kurisu as he stepped out.
Of course, it had to be these guys. Kurisu snickered internally.
Their cracked lips split into a sad smile.
"The Empire took my farm," one said, stepping forward.
Kurisu rolled his eyes as Radahk stepped out behind him.
Not this generic line.
"I'm outta food, and I'm homeless…" The farmer looked down mid-sentence.
A worn wedding band sat tight on his finger.
He paused—just for a second too long.
Even the wind felt slower.
Radahk broke the silence and stepped forward, unravelling a sash containing: Jerky, Bread and some food cubes.
"You are hungry?"
Kurisu's heart felt heavy, but was quickly cut off by the sound of leather being gripped.
He looked at the farmers; they gripped their weapons even harder, their eyes lit with starvation.
"Radahk," Kurisu went to grab Radahk's arm, but was shrugged off.
Radahk grunted and stepped forward.
The farmer mumbled something under his breath. Radahk couldn't hear it, but then.
Kurisu raised his voice.
"You need to get back-" He was cut off by a scream.
"YOU'RE gonna feed me, outlander!" the farmer growled.
Radahk, food in hand, barely saw a farmer on his right unsheathe a Sabre and start cutting it through the air towards him.
The farmer's face was painted with desperation.
Before the blade hit him, Kurisu charged in with a wild punch-
[Martial Arts: 1]
It was dodged easily.
Kurisu fell onto the floor.
Yeah… That was pathetic.
Kurisu's teeth cracked together as he looked up at Radahk.
Radahk, in one motion, threw the food to the side and got into a combat stance, deep, heavy, like a wall… Like stone.
"I do not wish to kill you," Radahk grunted.
The farmers hesitated. But encroached slowly, Kurisu pushed himself up.
"Radahk… You can't hold back here-"
Radahk clenched his fists and his brow furrowed.
"We'll die otherwise," Kurisu coughed, spitting grit out of his mouth.
He got into a stance.
A farmer charged in, bringing a rusted Iron staff diagonally down towards them. "Correct," Radahk said, parrying it to the left and crashing his fist into the farmer's chest.
A crunch was caught by the wind.
Kurisu cringed at the noise.
Radahk didn't even blink.
The farmer collapsed.
Everyone looked around, snarling. Two charged forward. Kurisu braced for impact but was grabbed by his arm-
Radahk didn't even look at him as he threw him back.
"Ahh-fair," Kurisu huffed.
He hit the sand and began crawling back into the house.
I'd just get in the way.
Kurisu, now back inside, peeked around the doorway.
Radahk held a smaller farmer by the neck with one hand, and another farmer with a straw hat rushed in to help and hacked at his leg with a katana—
The blade bit deep into his calf, splitting skin and dragging red with it.
Radahk was silent. His lip twitched upwards. More opponents rushed in to help.
Blades struck from all sides—
A Katana lodged into his calf, and the farmer struggled to get it out.
Another beat his arms with a club.
A third scored his chest in an X shape.
Every strike drew blood.
Yet he was immovable.
Still… Kurisu's eyes went wide.
Radahk's grip didn't loosen until the flailing farmer's face went purple and his limbs sagged.
Glad he's on my side-
He dropped the farmer and, in the same motion, twisted his torso, clenched his fist and spun with a grunt, delivering a brutal downwards hammerfist to the straw hat behind him. The outlaws' nostrils pumped blood, and he collapsed, his Katana left lodged in Radahk's flesh.
"Two left," Radahk huffed, the corners of his mouth creasing slightly more.
The other two farmers fell back, glancing at each other. And then back to Radahk. The Shek-warrior stood there, a katana lodged in his calf, cuts all over his body… And smiling?
It was faint, but it was definitely there.
Radahk stepped forward; his breathing sounded like a wild beast.
"L-Let's go!" the last two farmers shouted as they ran.
Radahk reached down, gripping the katana lodged in his calf.
He ripped it free without a sound.
Blood followed.
"Was enjoying that." He threw it to the side.
Kurisu, who had snuck out behind him, picked it up and said.
"Combat freak"
Radahk grunted as he turned and looked at the loot goblin.
Kurisu ran his eye along the blade and opened the system menu.
"This is decent," he smiled.
[Type: Katana, Quality: Shoddy Grade, Damage: 0.12 Cutting / 0.02 Blunt, Bleed Rate: 1.10x, Weight: 1kg, Note: The crossguard is loose. If you swing too hard, the blade might fly out of the hilt. Still, it's a blade.]
Well, by decent I mean slightly more favorable than a metal table leg. He wiped his nose.
Licking his lips his head span toward other gear: Armoured rags, cloth pants and some wooden sandals.
Radahk grunted, walked over and sat down in the doorway of the house.
Kurisu stared at the system menu.
[Looks like a slave: 100%]
This should get it lower.
He lifted up the rags and started putting them on.
"Everything is shoddy or standard grade, but it's better than nothing."
Then the sandals.
The better the clothing, the more my 'looks like slave' status will go down.
"You are taking their clothes?" Radahk huffed.
"Well, if we want to go into town, we need them,"
Kurisu hissed.
Then he swapped the cloth pants with his slave ones.
"That should do," he said, muffled as he placed the basket over his head.
[Looks like slave: 12%]
In the game, the closer it is to 100, the higher the chance you get caught by allied factions.
The lower it was, the lower the chance.
Kurisu smiled as he adjusted his basket.
"Sweet"
Radahk stared at him.
"Ridiculous"
Kurisu threw a rag shirt towards Radahk, hitting him in the face.
"Put it on… And!" He threw a straw hat.
The straw hat bounced off Radahk's chest.
"No," he crushed it underfoot.
Kurisu's eye twitched.
Didn't know Radahk was a fashionista...
He rolled his eyes while turning.
Palming his face, he mumbled.
"Fine, just hurry before they wake up,"
Without another word.
Radahk stepped back inside the abandoned house.
Kurisu glanced once more at the bodies outside.
"Yeah… This feels morally acceptable."
He nodded his head in self affimration.
He closed the tarp on the door.
"Shitty game," he muttered.
His heart twisted as he tried to forget about them.
The wind howled as the two traveled over the dunes to Heng.
Kurisu stood on the ridge, inhaling deeply as he looked at the city on the horizon. He'd cut a hole in the basket so he could see a bit better through it.
Surprisingly, this didn't affect the stats. He smiled proudly to himself.
Radahk nudged Kurisu as he walked past. Kurisu almost slipped down the dune.
"Asshole!" He yelped as he jogged lightly to keep up.
Kurisu's feet ached; he looked up with a sigh.
They made it.
Heng.
A city owned by the empire, the same empire that stole those Outlaws' farms. Kurisu clenched his fist.
The same people who support the slave camp.
Our disguises are good, but not impossible to recognize us… Kurisu stepped past the samurai guards, through the towering metallic gate and into the city.
The guards looked at him in the corner of their eyes.
Kurisu's heart sank as he opened his stats.
"No detection icon," He let out a long exhale, and his shoulders relaxed.
Nice.
He looked out to the main courtyard, merchants and families hobbled around blocky stone and metal buildings; they still looked like shit. But this was about as good as civilization got out of here.
Dev's did shit on decor… Right to the bar-
Kurisu turned, and one of the Samurai had gripped Radahk by the arm.
Radahk gazed down at him.
The Samurai looked up at him, squinting.
"You"
Kurisu swallowed.
Radahk's fist clenched into a tight ball.
"Yes?"
"You should join as a conscript!" The Samurai's eyes lit up.
Radahk blinked.
"You are the right size, and we could use more people like you for the upcoming war-" An older guard cut him off.
"We don't tell civilians about that you tart." He whacked him on the back of his head.
The older guard turned to the Shek, his eyes squinting.
"You can go," Radahk nodded and followed Kurisu.
They began walking to the bar, and whispers surrounded them as they walked through the main city.
A good bed will help Radahk heal… He's not critical, but I should keep him topped up just in case. Kurisu looked at some passing guards.
"Why wasn't I invited to join them?!" Kurisu pouted.
"Too weak?" Radahk questioned.
I'm just too good for them. He crossed his arms and smiled smugly.
looking up he noticed that-
People all around began looking towards Kurisu and hushing each other, some hiding their children.
"And everyone is looking at me strangely… like." Kurisu turned.
Why are the children hiding? He smiled at them.
They ran away crying.
He turned, confused.
"Everyone is reacting like I'm contagious," He snickered.
Radahk grunted.
"You imagine things"
Kurisu groaned.
"Look… Like that!"
A skeleton merchant was sweating oil as he ran to close his shop doors; they slammed shut with a thud.
Kurisu's brow furrowed.
Doesn't seem like I have any bad effects.
He opened the system menu and checked his stats.
Radahk sighed.
"You-"
"Maybe it's the basket?!" He said to himself as he began adjusting it.
"You look like a criminal," Radahk stated.
Kurisu's brain short-circuited.
"A-A criminal?!" He turned to Radahk in slight shock.
"Correct," Radahk grunted.
Kurisu's brow furrowed.
"No, that doesn't make sense."
He stole a food cube from a market stall.
"I'm not a thief."
He bit into it.
He waved the half-eaten food in the air.
"Sure, I occasionally steal things… But that's survival."
He said his words were muffled by the chew.
"Right?"
Radahk didn't answer.
He just exhaled through his nose.
What does a thief even look like?! Kurisu's face clenched, his nose went crooked into a snarl.
He opened his mouth.
But it was cut off by the sound of chatter as they stepped into the bar. People of all kinds gathered around the tables, mercenaries, bandits, samurai on break and of course, homeless drunks sat on the floor.
I just gotta charm my way out of this… Maybe it's my posture?
He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back and puffed his chest.
"That ain't hard."
Kurisu stepped towards the bar.
"Human?" Radahk said, watching Kurisu pull things out of a sash.
"They'll buy most of this… It'll get us some beds at least."
In the sash were: rusted weapons, old cloth shirts, sandals, and some bandages—that was about it.
All stuff from the Outlaw farmers.
The barkeep looked at all of the gear.
"543 Cats… Best I can do," The scorchlander stroked his chin.
Kurisu smiled.
"How much is two beds?" He said politely.
The shopkeeper looked at him, then Radahk.
"543 Cats."
Kurisu smiled even wider.
"Even the cheap ones?"
"Especially the cheap ones," The barkeep smiled back.
His smile was fading slightly.
"How about the floor?"
"543 cats!" The barkeep folded his arms, smiling like it was already paid.
Kurisu's eye twitched, and he let out a growl.
"And everyone says I'm a thief!"
He slammed on the bar counter top.
"We don't do charity."
The barkeep didn't flinch. He just glanced over Kurisu's shoulder.
Kurisu looked over his shoulder; some of the bar guards had their weapons unsheathed.
One of the guards took a step forward.
Their stats are a bit high… Heh.
He waved at them with a smile, then cleared his throat.
"It's not just them." The barkeep pointed to Kurisu's right.
The whole bar was staring at him, and he began to sweat.
"H-Hi, everyone."
He scratched his head with a smile.
FUCKING KILL ME…
He swallowed and turned to the barkeep.
"I'll pay."
"Great! Let's show you the beds!" The barkeep scooped the gear under the desk and took them upstairs with a cheesy smile.
Kurisu held his head down as he walked past staring faces, but one stood out amongst them.
A hooded figure sat in the corner, unmoving.
Kurisu didn't notice.
Radahk didn't look.
But beneath the hood—
A pair of faint purple eyes followed them.
They didn't blink.
Not even after they were gone.
[Game Saved]