Sylver Seeker

To their credit, despite being blinded and lost, not a single person fired a shot.

They didn’t move anywhere either, which was a mistake, but it wasn’t like they could have predicted that the ground they were standing on was part of the trap.

“Garret!” someone shouted in the oddly far too dense cloud of smoke.

“30 up, 19 left!” someone responded.

Presumably Garret.

The back of Sylver’s head prickled as a bullet hit the brick behind him and sprayed him with pieces of shattered rock. The debris fell into his jacket and trickled down his back.

“4 down, 1 right!” Garret shouted.

Sylver’s shield buckled under the force of the bullet hitting it, but it stayed in place.

“2 up, 2 right! Then 5 down, 1 left!” Garret shouted.

The first bullet hit the edge of Sylver’s shield and caused it to turn like a revolving door. The bullet that followed right after that skimmed over Sylver’s left cheek as he just barely managed to lean out of the way.

That fraction of a second that Sylver’s skin was in contact with the bullet was more than enough for his very fragile spell to be disrupted. He pulled his shields closer to himself as he began to spread his mana out through the cloud of smoke, but it was too late.

The group was already moving out of the smoke and would be split up in a moment or two. Sylver let himself fall from the window he was sitting in, and he landed down on the ground, close enough to the person next to him that he could almost reach out and touch him, but completely invisible in the cloud of smoke.

“33 down, 8 right!” Garret shouted as Sylver’s shield made a strange sound as the bullet collided with it.

Plan D it is.

Sylver lay down on the ground and made himself as flat as possible. He felt a bullet pass right through the spot his head was but a second ago.

The paper-thin tendrils spread out like a fishing net all over the ground lit up with a pale yellow glow, as in a single fluid motion they floated up from the ground, and rose to a little lower than the people’s knees.

A lot of guns went off as Sylver forced the net to contract, and any attempt at secrecy was immediately ruined by everyone warning everyone else about something grabbing and pulling them by the foot. Four different bullets hit the stone’s under Sylver’s head, and one passed through his left hand and caused the darkness to disperse.

Sylver had the [Coat Of Carrion] tendrils simultaneously pull and tug at people’s feet, while they climbed up their legs and did their best to grab their guns and yank them out of their hands. It didn’t work as intended, the tendrils were far too thin to overpower the terrified elves’ tight grips.

But it didn’t matter, as Sylver now had a clear picture of who was where and his completely prone body was grabbed by the tiny tendrils coming out of the ground, and like a caterpillar, moved forwards and into the midst of well-armed attackers.

There were only 6 that had enough of a resistance to Sylver’s magic to make his paralysis curse not work on them. Sylver’s shields floated along with him as he made the tendrils cut open a hole in everyone’s trousers so that Sylver could get direct skin contact with them.

He got 8 people in a little under a second and made them fall to the ground and spread their arms and legs open as if they were playing in the snow. Sylver rigged the tendrils as if they were string, and used the pulling force the ones on the floor created, to pull at other people’s legs.

A lot fell down, and Sylver almost lazily ran his hand over their shouting faces, which caused them to shut up and start moving around, creating even more force for his [Coat Of Carrion] trap to use.

The “fight” lasted for roughly 3 minutes before enough of the smoke dissipated that everyone started to be able to see their surroundings. Sylver was lost amidst the twitching and silent bodies on the floor, while a single man remained upright and moving his gun erratically and too quickly for Sylver to grab him without spooking him into shooting.

Whether it was dumb luck that the man was waving the gun in Sylver’s direction, or if he knew where he was, Sylver didn’t know.

Sylver stayed down and made his shield come up from the pile of bodies and forced the man nearest to him to stand up behind it.

Sylver’s shield managed to hold for the first 20 shots, but because the man somehow hit the exact same spot with every single shot, a hole formed before Sylver had a chance to realize what was going on. The man who was standing behind the shield was hit in the gut, and Sylver relaxed his hold on everyone.

The moment the shooter let his guard down and moved his finger away from the trigger, a cage of bright red strings formed around him and wrapped all over his body. The gun in his hand was turned over so the barrel was facing towards him, and the man’s fingers were all caught and pulled back from closing.

Sylver got up from beneath the pile of bodies lying on top of him, and didn’t pay too much attention as to whose face or hand he stepped on as he walked towards the screaming and disarmed man. Sylver grabbed him by the neck and he went limp after a couple of seconds.

[Biological Manipulation (I) Proficiency increased to 67%!]

[Coat Of Carrion(I) Proficiency increased to 82%!]

“Anyone faking it?” Sylver tapped out with his right hand, as the man fell into the pile. The smoke further dispersed.

“Two hit their head on the ground when they fell, but it doesn’t look serious. Half of them have a knife in their jacket or boot. Grant is fine, only 2 bullets got anywhere near him, shield and tub are untouched,” Spring answered, as Sylver walked back over to his front door and sat down in front of the bullet-riddled building.

Sylver sat there for a while, and let himself catch his breath. In front of him, it looked like he’d caught a school of adult men using a bright red fishing net. The net slowly liquefied and moved out of the way and pooled near Sylver’s feet, before it ran up his legs and hid beneath his clothes.

He saw that, for all the shots that had been fired, somehow not a single one had hit anyone other than Sylver.

Those bullets curved, I’m sure of it. You can’t enchant lead so does this mean that the system can somehow apply itself to lead?

Sylver ran both hands down his face and wiped away the sweat with the back of his sleeve as he stood up from his staircase and released just enough muscles for everyone to do the same.

“Alright, everyone get up! You, you and you, help those two get to their feet,” Sylver ordered, pointing at three men nearest to the two that were unconscious from hitting their heads. Their eyes were open by the time the dead silent crowd finished rising.

“Do I have everyone’s attention?” Sylver asked. He made a small light float out of his hand and made it illuminate the area around them.

“After I take one of your eyes out, I’m going to curse you. Your left hand will go numb, and in 3 days it will start to spread up your arm. During those three days I would like for you all to go to every healer you can think of and try to get the curse removed,” Sylver explained, as he lifted his left hand to make sure they understood what he meant by left.

“When you’ve confirmed that the curse cannot be removed by regular or irregular means, come find me. In the meantime, please be aware that if you try to hurt someone, you’ll feel like someone just snapped your spine. I know what you’re about to say “but what about if it’s for self-defense”, and the answer to that is I don’t fucking care,” Sylver explained, and understandably saw most of the small crowd turn as pale as Sylver normally was.

“You all tried to kill me. As far as I’m concerned you’re all already dead. The only reason you’re not currently on the ground and slowly dying from asphyxiation is because some of you can be useful to me. I’ll decide on the details later, but what I want is for all of you to go complete various jobs and give me all the cuts you earn from them,” Sylver explained.

“And by work, I do mean work. Shoveling shit, tilling the fields, watering crops, garbage disposal, fixing walls, carrying cement, good and simple work that no one wants to do. If you try to threaten someone into marking a job as completed and paying you, I’ll hurt you. If you let your friends threaten someone for you, I’ll hurt you. If you earn so much as a single cut in a way that I don’t deem honest and non-violent, I’ll hurt you,” Sylver continued.

“The rest will be explained more clearly the next time we see each other. Please leave all your weapons over here before you leave. I’ll know if you didn’t and I’ll make you chew your fingers off,” Sylver said with a polite and soft tone.

With everyone frozen in place, Sylver just walked among them and pulled their eyes out with practiced ease. He pulled a person’s eye out, and then released his hold on them, and they would walk over to the pile of guns, knives, and miscellaneous items, and would then calmly run away.

[Biological Manipulation (I) Proficiency increased to 67%!]

[Coat Of Carrion(I) Proficiency increased to 82%!]

He held back 2 men who Sylver had been told were “in charge”. As well as the two who were already missing one of their eyes. Spring informed Sylver that these two were part of the 6 who had attacked Grant a few days ago.

“I’ll keep this short because I’ve got shit to do. My name is Tod. I’m a necromancer. And here is what I would like you to pass onto your bosses, or whoever else is going to be coming after me next,” Sylver said, as he pointed upwards towards the second floor’s window.

“You come after me, that’s fine. I’ll take an eye and make you work for me. But if one of my friends gets so much as a stubbed toe because of you, I’m going to track you down, and I will make you, and anyone who knew what you were doing but didn’t stop you, suffer in a way you can’t imagine. Suffice to say, I’ll make death seem like a luxury,” Sylver explained in a calm and casual voice, as he leaned down towards the pile of guns and started rummaging through it.

He found one that was similar enough to the type he knew and he opened it to check if it was loaded.

“Now, I did tell you two that you shouldn’t tell anyone about me. I said that knowing you wouldn’t listen, but it sets a bad precedent if I don’t follow through with my threats… Let me think…” Sylver said, as he pressed the button on the gun’s side and made the bullet holding part fall out. Sylver put it back when he saw that it had bullets in it.

“Grant shot you in the knee… You’re not even limping, so I should do something a little more permanent… Do either of you lads smoke?” Sylver asked as he gestured with the gun towards the two dead silent and pale as ghosts men.

Both of them very slowly nodded.

“I’d recommend you stop, it’s bad for your health,” Sylver said, as he placed his left hand on the first man’s shoulder and held the gun up to his chest.

He moved it down a little and pressed it until he could feel the ribs. Sylver pulled the trigger and the gun flew out of his hand as he hadn’t been ready for the recoil. Sylver confirmed with a pulse of mana that the bullet had entered and exited, relatively cleanly.

“Your right lung has just been shredded. You won’t die, but your right phrenic nerve is damaged, you’re going to be out of breath for the rest of your life,” Sylver said, as blood started to weakly ooze out of the hole the gun had made. Sylver let go of the man’s shoulder and pushed him towards the direction most of the men had run away in. He leaned down to pick the gun up.

“Now then… Hmm… Everything I can think of is a little over the top… Do I just shoot you in the knee again? No, you know what, come back later, I’ll think of something by then,” Sylver said, as he moved the gun in the other man’s general direction, who now had a wet patch running down his leg.

I might have gone too far here…

Fuck it, it doesn’t matter.

They’re going to come after us again regardless of what I say or do.

“Alright. We’re done here,” Sylver said, as he snapped his fingers and all three men were back in full control of their bodies. One of the “leaders” gave Sylver a look as if he was about to say something.

Sylver gestured with his eyes for him to go ahead, but the man decided it would be a bad idea. Probably a threat or a warning or something, going by the odd sensation Sylver could feel in the man’s soul. They were almost home free when Sylver changed his mind.

“Actually, I have a few more questions to ask you.”

*

*

*

“Couldn’t you… you know, snap your fingers and make them all stop before they fired a single shot?” Grant asked as he helped Sylver load the next duffle bag with the guns lying around on the floor outside their house.

“In the majority of cases, I need direct physical contact. For some, if the red stuff touches them while I’m touching it, it’s a good enough of a connection. But the rule of thumb is that I need to touch them. With the weaker ones, it’s instantaneous, with stronger people I need a few seconds of contact. But once the curse is settled in, it isn’t going anywhere. As long as I’ve got the eyes they can be almost anywhere in the world, and I can still make their body shut down,” Sylver explained, as Grant very carefully disarmed the gun, and opened it up to make sure.

“Wait… So you’re not just collecting them because…” Grant’s hand moved up towards his face but he hesitated. Sylver answered before he found a good way of asking the question.

“A little bit. I lost my eye very recently, it’s still a bit of a sore spot for me. But on the other hand, I can now pull eyes out without making it hurt. But no, I’m not collecting eyes for the fun of it, or as some weird revenge for losing my own eye,” Sylver explained, as he reached for the next gun.

“I see… I mean… you know what I meant. What’s the end goal of all this? You said you’re going to make Chen work for you, but how? Holding his men hostage? I very much doubt he’s going to give a shit about them,” Grant asked.

“Probably not, but I have a very specific goal in mind. I’m hoping that Chen will decide that indulging me and getting me out of his hair will be easier than trying to fight me, and losing a large portion of his workers,” Sylver explained.

“What’s your goal? If it’s not too personal I mean,” Grant asked.

He finished filling the bag up and sighed as he found yet another knife, and would have to walk all the way over to the knife bag to put it away.

“Money. Both for me and for you, so we can go up to the Trunk, maybe higher. Safety basically, I don’t want to sleep every night with one eye open… And… I’m looking for something, but I can’t say what it is in the event Iris or one of the others is listening,” Sylver said.

He waited for Grant to laugh at his joke, but it seemed to fly right past him.

“How did it go in the tower by the way? You all but passed out on the couch when you came back,” Grant asked.

“Pretty good. They gave me a new name and then informed me that the woman who more or less is in charge of these kinds of things, would be very insulted if I complained about it. So I guess for the time being my name is the Silver Sliver,” Sylver said, as he picked the bag up and added it to the pile of bags sitting inside his house.

“Silver Sliver isn’t a bad name. Did they pay you anything for the fight?” Grant asked.

“They didn’t. My only way to earn money is to bet on myself, which I didn’t do, or to earn money through a sponsor and various deals. But for that, I need a solid track record. Although Ilkes said he would ask around for someone big to fight me so I can get more attention quicker,” Sylver explained.

It was the middle of the night, but not a single one of those shade-like creatures had shown up. It wasn’t just that they were keeping their distance, Sylver had spread his shades out to find them, but everywhere the shades looked they were nowhere to be found.

But the part that worried Sylver more than that, was that Spring still hadn’t come back. It’s been almost two days since Sylver had sent him off.

Even though rationally Sylver knew that nothing could really happen to him, it was still a bit like having one of your pets disappear on you.

Sylver chose not to dwell on the thought for longer than he had to, as he released some [Coat Of Carrion] from his jacket and made the weapon-filled bags float up into the air, and guided them towards the pile. The furniture and fridge had all been destroyed, but luckily the bullets missed all the eyeballs inside.

Sylver kept them all in a large jug right now, allegedly meant to be used for fermenting things. He kept it wrapped up so as not to freak Grant out, but Grant didn’t like it being near him, so Sylver kept it tucked away in the corner with the weapons and out of sight.

“So what’s our next move?” Grant asked.

“Well for starters we’re going to be moving into a different house, one that isn’t riddled with bullet holes. Other than the guns and the jug, I don’t have a whole lot to take with me. I found one that isn’t too far away from your workshop, so I’ll be nearby in case-”

“I’m not going back there. It’s… I can do everything I need here. If you need something built, I’ll just have the tools delivered, and I’ll keep them at the digital warehouse when I don’t need them,” Grant explained.

“Warehouse? What warehouse?” Sylver asked.

“Through Iris. It costs 10 cuts per square cubic meter per week, but it’s the best place to keep something out of harm's way,” Grant explained.

Sylver stared at him for a while.

“Is this a recent thing? Or have I just spent nearly an hour worrying about what to do with all these weapons, while you knew that this was an option?” Sylver asked as he pointed at the large pile of gun-filled bags in the corner.

“I thought you knew. I’m sure I mentioned it before,” Grant said.

“No, I would have… Actually, you might have… Alright, my bad, sorry for that. Do you mind showing me how it works so we don’t have to carry them over to the next house?” Sylver asked.

*

*

*

“I was wondering when you’d show up. How’s Grant doing? Did you have any problems finding the place?” the man asked before Sylver had even finished opening the door.

Sylver knew exactly what was going on, the moment he was close enough to feel the man’s soul.

“No, Iris has a moving map that made it extremely easy,” Sylver said, as he closed the glass tinted door behind himself.

The man who had spoken was standing and gestured for Sylver to sit down opposite him on a relatively comfortable-looking chair. There was a tray of biscuits on his desk, two cups, and a boiling pot of tea.

He was wide, but not in a way that made him ugly. Dwarf-like is how Sylver would describe him. Except his face was clean shaven, and his blond hair was very neatly combed to the left side. His eyes were a dark brown, and there was a sharpness to them that Sylver couldn’t decide if he liked or not.

The kettle clicked to indicate it was finished boiling the moment Sylver sat down in his seat, and the man poured them both tea with a smile.

“Given that you’re giving me the stink eye, I take it you’ve met a clairvoyant before, and didn’t have a positive experience,” the man said.

He continued as he sat down in his seat, which was a little bit too big for such a small man.

“That’s certainly one way of putting it,” Sylver said. Unsurprisingly, the tea tasted incredible, as did the cakes and biscuits. Almost like someone had picked the exact combination that Sylver would like the most.

“Normally I wouldn’t even bother meeting with someone like you. Whatever you’re about to do to stop me from seeing your future is going to give me a nosebleed and a migraine, but,” the man said, as Sylver stopped doing exactly what he was describing and gave him a chance.

“But, I think we could help each other. You want something, I want something, let’s make a deal,” the man offered.

“Grant didn’t exactly paint you in the best colors when he recommended you,” Sylver said.

The man’s polite smile didn’t waver.

“Grant and I… to be perfectly frank with you, I fucked him over. Quite hard if you don’t mind me saying. But it was done back when I was young, arrogant, and not even half as smart as I am now. And I believe a man is more than just the sum of his past mistakes,” the man explained, with the smallest dent in his smile as he broached the subject.

“What else do you judge a man with? His words? What a person does is who they are,” Sylver explained, as the man’s smile further decreased.

“This discussion doesn’t end well. I don’t mean it in the sense I’ve peeked into the future to see it, but in the sense, I’ve already had it a few too many times and I’m sick of it. How about-” the man was about to reach into his pocket but his face turned white.

His breath caught in his throat, as he finished reaching into his pocket and pulled out a small painted coin.

“If that coin turns even one time, we’re going to have a problem,” Sylver warned.

This would be a waste.

A huge waste, of all the potential ways he could use a coin flip, this would be the absolute worst way for it to be utilized.

“No coins got it,” the man said mutely as he put the coin back in his pocket. “But I would still like to make a deal with you,” the man offered.

“You already know what I’ll say, or do, so given that you haven’t sent me away I take it 5 minutes from now we’re already shaking hands?” Sylver asked.

Sylver hated teleporters.

Clairvoyants were about 2 ranks below them, but still in Sylver’s top 10. Especially the ones that didn’t know or understand how exactly they “saw the future”.

Predicting what will happen is easy. Sylver did it all the time.

Clairvoyants just did it on a large scale. And in most cases with nowhere near the same accuracy as Sylver.

Not to mention most “clairvoyants” weren’t really seeing the future.

“You are… surprisingly well informed as to how this works,” the man said as he nervously swallowed again.

“My master had a special dislike for those that claimed to be able to tell the future. And since we’re being honest with each other, so do I,” Sylver answered.

“Nevertheless,” the man started.

“Nevertheless, I would like to hear your offer,” Sylver finished.

The man put his hands on the table and closed 3 of his fingers, leaving only 7 open.

“On such a bright and sunny day, I was wondering if you would be interested in helping a Trunk get revenge on a Flower. All we ask of you is that you win every fight you fight in the tower… and when you’re invited inside a certain person’s home for a party, you’ll take a certain person with you as your plus one,” the man said.

“You’re offering this, well aware as to what will happen if I somehow end up holding the short end of the stick, right?” Sylver asked carefully.

He very much doubted this clairvoyant would be sitting in this dingy office in the middle of nowhere in the red district if he was the only one able to see the future. With more than one future seer being close enough to interact, the future was up in the air up until it became the present.

The Ibis referred to them as prophesy wars. One person who glimpsed into the “future” said X would happen, while 9 more said Y, Z, and so on happened instead. Some members of the Ibis chose to believe in numbers.

If enough low-tier seers said X would happen, they trusted that X would happen. Others believed in quality. If a high-tier clairvoyant made a prediction, it must come true. It was all too theoretical for Sylver's taste. And he’d killed enough “unkillable” clairvoyants, that he knew that they were all the furthest thing from omniscient.

Half the ones he killed predicted Sylver’s death, but it turned out every single one of them was wrong.

The only difference between Sylver having a plan to follow, and this man predicting what would happen, was that this man had a little more access to this realm’s primal energy.

“There will be a short stick at the end of all this, but I assure you, all the sticks we will be holding will be very long,” the man said.

He held out his hand and Sylver waited for a second before he placed his right hand on top of the man’s hand.

“You’ll fight in the tower. You’ll win. And when you go to a specific woman’s house you’ll take who we ask you to take along with you. And in exchange I’ll find you the thing you don’t want me saying out loud,” the man said.

“So this is like a heist or something?” Sylver asked.

“Sort of… Actually, I never really thought about it like that, but it really is kind of like a heist… But if you just do your part, you don’t need to concern yourself with the rest,” the man offered.

“And what happens if I do my part, and you’re unable to hold up your end?” Sylver asked.

“I don’t know. It would be a first if I went looking for something and couldn’t find it. If it’s somewhere in the Garden, I’ll find it. Unlike you, I’ll know all the right people to ask. But if it’s not in the Garden… you’ll be rich enough to afford all the search parties you could ever want,” the man said.

Sylver wanted to say he was 99% sure the man was telling the truth. But he wasn’t familiar enough with the souls in this realm to be certain enough for his liking.

But the important thing was that Sylver had a good feeling about this.

“I’m Tod, by the way. Also the Silver Sliver,” Sylver said.

“Kassilius Andragoli. Or Kass for friends. Do we have a deal?” Kass asked.

“We have a deal,” Sylver said, as the man pulled his left hand back and they shook their right hands together.

This felt a little too convenient.

But the fact that this place mistook Sylver for an elf was a little too convenient.

Everything about this realm felt a little bit off.

But as long as Sylver managed to find and destroy the book titled “The Story Of The Seven Suns” he didn’t care just how much of what he was experiencing was the woman in white nudging him from one lucky coincidence to another.

Or I’m reading too much into this... Ever since I woke in that needle, everything I’ve done has kind of felt like I always arrived at the right time and in just the right place.

All I have to do is win a few one on one fights, how hard can it be?

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