The Bathrobe Knight: Volume 3 (19 page)

Darwin
:

“Have you picked your Level 60 skills yet?” Kitchens asked as the two made their way through the forest.

“No, not yet. I usually do it when I level up, but I’ve put it off until I have time to think about it without making an entire group wait on me,” Darwin shrugged.

“How about now then? You might end up needing the skill if the encounter proves to be violent.” Kitchens stopped running and waited for Darwin to do likewise. As Darwin also broke pace and came to a halt, Kitchens walked over to him.

“Alright, are you going to do the same?”

“Maybe, I am still not sure what I want to do with my class system. On one hand, I am compelled to maintain the most challenging gameplay possible and see how far my blade alone can carry me. On the other hand, I’m also hungry to be the most powerful player in existence. Currently, when you’re in your transformative stage, I can’t match you. I did everything I could just to stay even with you on the battlefield last time. But if I were to pick a focus and some skills, perhaps I could give you a run for your money.” Kitchens looked at his blade. “It just still feels like it would be admitting defeat. Perhaps I’ll get one later.”

“Fair enough, but since I’ve already picked up a few, there doesn’t seem to be an issue with grabbing one more, right?” Darwin said, opening up his skill menu to see what the Level 60 options would be.

Please choose between one of these abilities:

Cheap Dining and Quick Eats (Passive) – Consuming the flesh or blood of players during combat will restore 25% of missing health and boost damage by 5% (fades after 300 seconds out of combat, damage bonus does not stack).
For some people, it’s hard to tell the difference between when they’re having a meal on the run and when they’re running down a meal.

The Five Second Rule! (Passive) – After killing an enemy, restore 50% of all damage the enemy inflicted in the five seconds prior to his death.
People always say that if you drop the ball, just pick it up and try again. Why do they insist on the same not being true for food? If you pick the food up within five seconds, it’s still good, right?

“Something wrong?” Kitchens asked, probably noticing the grimace Darwin made as he read the first option.

Consuming flesh or blood from a player?
Darwin wanted to feel sick. He didn’t, but he knew it was the right reaction.
Who eats their enemies during combat?
he started to ask himself until he remembered the last fight. He suddenly remembered the feeling of his teeth sinking into his prey, ripping the flesh free.
So maybe it wouldn’t be a useless skill after all . . .
He sighed.

“I have to choose between one skill that seems overpowered and one skill that doesn’t,” Darwin said to Kitchens with a frown.

“And you don’t want to pick the overpowered one because . . .” Kitchens looked somewhat confused.

“Well, it requires me to eat my enemies during combat.” Darwin laughed at his own situation.

“Ah, and you’re worried you’ll get indigestion?”

“It could also taste bad?”

“You won’t know until you try though?”

“I’m pretty sure I already have.”

“Come now, don’t say that. Haven’t your parents ever taught you? Every person is unique. Why wouldn’t their flavor be too?”

“Sadly, I hope it’s not the case. The last one didn’t actually taste bad . . .”

“In real life, you’re not a therapist or a fan of chianti, are you?”

“No, why?”

“No reason, but I’m still going to avoid your dinner parties. Either way, you should probably just go with the skill that’s stronger.”

“This coming from a guy who hasn’t picked a single skill yet so that the game would be harder?”

“Well, that’s different. I’m not the leader of a guild that’s counting on me to win every fight so their morale doesn’t shake,” Kitchens responded with a shrug. “If I were, well, I probably would have made the decision a long time ago. Or if they had a class that allowed for the production of infinite sake and tea . . .”

“Your priorities are pretty set in stone, aren’t they?”

“As long as family is first, I shouldn’t be judged for what comes second, should I?” he mused, pulling a bottle out of his inventory as he said it. “Think we have time for just one glass while we travel?”

“I don’t think so.” Darwin pointed at a wall in the distance. It wasn’t too close, but it was still clearly visible. “I think we’re already here.”

“I see. Then you should probably stop lollygagging and pick a skill already,” Kitchens said, putting the bottle up. The disappointment in his eyes was clear.

“Alright,” Darwin agreed.
Tiqpa, I pick the skill Cheap Dining and Quick Eats.
The skill glowed for a minute as the other option turned gray and then both of them floated back to their respective places on the large skill tree.

When they finally reached the town, Darwin stopped and asked Kitchens, “So, how do you expect we get in? Do you just wanna climb the wall and hope a sentry doesn’t notice us?”

“We could wait for a caravan to go through and hop in the back. I’ve heard that works pretty well in some movies.” Kitchens pointed to the gate where merchants were bringing their goods in and out.

“You sure you don’t just want to climb the wall? I still think our odds might be better.” Darwin wasn’t even suggesting it out of stubbornness. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a densely populated section on the ramparts. He was actually very confident the two of them could sneak over unnoticed, perhaps due to a shortage of troops after the Panda King’s disappearance.

“If you’re asking me if I’d rather sit in a nice comfortable wagon and sip my sake while someone drives me through the gate unnoticed by the sleeping guards or spend the better part of half an hour struggling to sneak over a wall unnoticed like we were playing a console stealth game that forgot to add the oddly well-placed stack of cardboard boxes to hide behind, then I’m going to have to go with the cart.” Kitchens shook his head as he chuckled at Darwin.

“You really have given up that need for a challenge today, haven’t you?” Darwin said resignedly. Kitchens was right, but the plan was mostly hinged on the driver neither minding the extra passengers nor recognizing their faces. If he even started to put up a protest, Darwin would have to stab him where he stood just to be on the safe side, and the idea of needlessly killing an NPC just didn’t sit well with him.

“Just stay quiet and follow me,” Kitchens said as they got closer to the road.

Darwin crouched down and did his best to mimic Kitchens’ movements. He almost hugged the ground as he mimicked the other man, moving in and out among the trees without making a sound. It was all rather graceful, but for Darwin, who was a lumbering oaf due to his size and weight, Kitchens’ sneakiness was almost impossible to duplicate.

As they finally found themselves only a dozen feet at most from the road, Kitchens stood still and waited as one wagon or carriage after the other passed. Finally, without giving any prompt or notification, he stood up and walked in front of one of the vehicles. “Good sir, my friend and I are rather tired from walking all day. Do you mind allowing us a lift on the back of your wagon?”

“Not at all! Hop on in!” The driver, an old Feline man, didn’t even look the slightest bit agitated as he waved the two into the wagon.

“Thank you so much. We’ll be happy to pay you for the trouble. You’re a real lifesaver.” Kitchens lightly bowed his head, as did Darwin, and the two hopped in the back. As soon as they were comfortably seated, Kitchens pulled out his sake. “See? No problems at all,” he said as he took a sip.

“How did you know he’d say yes? Or that the other ones wouldn’t?”

“He’s a Feline, so he’s more likely to be friendly to me in this game with the way racism is built into this beast city. Not to mention, his load was non-existent, so he’s on the return trip after selling everything off. He has to be in a good mood. Lastly, he wasn't wearing a ring, so no wife. It might not seem like an important detail, but a man without a wife to return home to isn’t going to be in as big a rush.” Kitchens nodded in agreement with his own logic and then took another sip of sake. “Also, he just seemed like a nice guy.”

Darwin had to admit he was rather impressed with the line of reasoning. “You’ve done this type of thing before?”

“A few times.” Kitchens didn’t offer any more details than that, but he did pull out another bottle of sake and offer it to Darwin.

Once they actually made it into the town, it didn’t take more than ten minutes of wandering around the city for Darwin to find the right place. Despite the difficulty of looking around while wearing the painfully obvious brown hoodie he had made quickly out of a sleeping merchant’s mat, he was still able to spot the brown door from what felt like a mile away.

“So this is the place?” Darwin stopped at the wooden door.

“It would seem so,” said Kitchens and turned his head a few times, “but I still can’t shake that feeling that we’ve been followed.”

“Just a feeling though, right?” Darwin knew that worries like this were sometimes driven from overlapping experiences--like wondering if you left the door unlocked today or if it was yesterday that you forgot to protect the entry way. The memory of forgetting was real, but when it happened wasn’t, and that had often made Darwin triple and quadruple check his front door. Sometimes, he would even turn around, go back home and check one more time just to make sure that the door was secure. This is why he felt that Kitchens, someone who had clearly experienced war, might just be acting paranoid when he said that he thought they were being followed. Then again, Kitchens hadn’t said that during any of their previous journeys.
So maybe he’s not just being paranoid.
Darwin glanced at him.
But I haven’t seen or heard anything since we left
.

“Just a gut feeling . . . and one I can’t shake at that.” Kitchens’ eyes darted side to side again, his head swiveling as he checked one more time for someone who might be trailing them. Seemingly satisfied, he placed his hand firmly on the door, ready to push it open. “Are you ready for this?” he said as he looked over his shoulder at Darwin.

“You mean, ‘Do I have enough control over myself to not rip one of the guys trying to kill my people in half before solving my problem?’” Darwin asked, already familiar with the lecture. ‘Don’t kill people in the city if you can help it. You’ll get us found out, stir up more trouble than good, and it might spark even more quests to kill us,’ Kitchens had warned.
But the warning was so I wouldn’t stir up trouble with the city. If I can kill this person without getting caught . . .
The thought curled Darwin’s lips upwards into a fiendish smirk.
No, don’t think like that. We’re just here to stop the quest,
he checked himself.

“Something like that, yes. Let’s go.” Kitchens pushed open the door to reveal an entirely wooden room. Every surface was plain brown and lacked any sign of the ornate designs that littered the walls of the surrounding buildings. Then, smack dab in the middle of the room, he saw a dark-haired woman sitting and holding a tall glass of wine.

“Sister . . .” Darwin’s lips moved in unison with his brain, the shock breaking the filter between the two.

“That’s your sister?” Kitchens said in a hushed aside to Darwin.

“What are you doing here?” Darwin finished the thought, quickly coming to grips with her betrayal. “It’s you, isn’t it? It’s you that assigned the quest to kill my people. Why? Why would you kill what you set me on the path to save and create?”

Eve’s mouth hung half-open as she stared at Darwin. A long moment passed between the two in silence. Darwin probably would have felt upset, angry, or even properly emotional about the topic if he had known her in any capacity. She was his sister, after all, but those were just words to him. Even her husband, his brother-in-law Charles, wasn’t more than an acquaintance at the moment.

“Other people’s family reunions aren’t something one goes to by choice, so I’ll be right outside.” Kitchens turned around, opened the door and left the way they came in. “Give me a shout if you need me,” he said quietly right before the door shut behind him.

“You stink of that woman,” Eve finally said, taking a gulp of her wine. “Her smell is all over you.”

“That woman? You mean Stephanie? My girlfriend?” Darwin hadn’t exactly slept around, so the number of options were small, but the disdainful comment still may have referred to one of his party members. Darwin remembered vividly how much Eve had disliked Kass.

Eve’s rigid face cracked into a loud cackle. “Your girlfriend?” She managed to spit out the words with obvious vitriol between the breaths of her overdone bursts of laughter. “Your girlfriend . . . That’s rich.”

“What’s wrong with that? Wasn’t it you who told me where to find her?” Darwin walked up and took the seat opposite to Eve. “Didn’t you send me to her for a favor?”

“Send you to her?” Her gigglish cackle never ceased. “I sent you to kill the medusa boss of a dungeon, not to meet with that backstabbing traitor.”

“You’re calling her a backstabber, but, last I checked, she didn’t put together a quest that encouraged players to kill my people and destroy my home.” Darwin must have hit a note because, as soon as he said that, Eve’s face twisted back into the mouth-half-open expression of shock he had seen when he first walked in.