Book 3, Chapter 33 - Bitten (1/2)

Incredible.

This old, crippled, horny old asshole was a secret powerhouse?

The world was full of surprises, and anything was possible. Nothing they saw should be taken lightly, either. Cloudhawk had grown strong, but he wasn’t strong enough to travel the wasteland carelessly.

By the time they finished dinner, their room was ready. All three had to share a single room, only twenty square meters. Tight quarters made for embarrassing circumstance. Barb didn’t seem to mind, however, and whether or not Autumn had a problem didn’t matter to Cloudhawk. He was certainly no gentleman, and wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to bunk with two pretty ladies.

“What was going on with that old grandpa? I didn’t know It would be so dangerous just try to and get into Fishmonger’s Borough.” Autumn walked into the room and sat with a heaving sigh. She seemed unwilling to deal with their current problems. That old man’s words weighed on her. Thinking about it still made her shiver. “Hey, Mr. Shameless. Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Hmph, of course I’m talking to you!” A mischievous light flickered through her pretty eyes. “You’re a thug. You even cover your face all day from the shame.”

“What the fuck do you know, woman. I cover it to protect you.”

Autumn had just made the comment off the cuff, not knowing she’d strike a nerve. What did the mask and protecting her have to do with one another?

Cloudhawk answered her with grave sincerity. “If you looked on this handsome face every day, you couldn’t help but fall in love with me. What then? I have no interest in an immature and undeveloped girl like you.”

Autumn grabbed the closest thing to her at whipped it at his head. Cloudhawk snatched it out of the air and lazily set it aside. She wanted to scream and pull her hair out. This rogue was impossible! She couldn’t hit him, couldn’t insult him – she was so furious she could just die.

“I’m not a god, how the fuck should I know what’s going on with that old coot?” Cloudhawk dialed it back once he saw that she was really angry. This girl – he was just screwing around, and here she was getting all bent out of shape. “If you really want to know, have Barb stab him with one of her needles. Maybe she’ll learn something.”

“Are you crazy? That old guy seemed strong, but we know what those needles could do. We don’t have anything against him. How could you be so cavalier about using such a method?”

Cloudhawk had obviously been joking. How the hell was she so thick?

This was just the sort of person Autumn was – direct and earnest. She took people’s words at face value. To her, Cloudhawk was clearly overstepping. Barb’s relic was incredible, but hardly reliable. By her own words it only worked a fourth of the time. And those that do have their minds successfully read suffer terrible side-effects. Cyclops was a perfect example.

Who knew what had happened to that crazy bandit since they abandoned him. He’d lost his mind, so if an animal hadn’t gotten him by now than hunger and thirst certainly had.

Autumn closed her mouth and didn’t mention the old man again.

However, the truth was that Cloudhawk had his own suspicions about the old man.

The cripple was a sorry sight, with leathery skin and tattered clothes – the model wastelander. Only, that cane he’d been using was definitely a relic. Cloudhawk was certain the drunkard wasn’t the down-and-out wastelander he pretended to be.

So what, then? Another top-grade elysian fighter cropping up from nowhere? What elysian big-shot would chose to live out here in squalor?

“Senior, I found the washroom.” Barb came trotting back into the room, out of breath. “The hotel has several public washrooms we can use to shower. I checked one out by the way. They’re nice, you should check them out.”

Cloudhawk had been thinking about washing off the dust from the road.

“My sense is things are… delicate here. Dangers hidden around every corner.” Cloudhawk spoke earnestly with Barb. “Collect whatever information you can while you’re wandering around. We especially want to know where that old drunkard came from. If shit goes down we want to be prepared.”

Barb was eager and willing to follow instruction. “Got it! I’ll start poking around immediately.”

Barb slung the exorcist bow over her shoulder, grabbed her staff, then headed out.

Cloudhawk left as well, taking Oddball for backup.

He shut the door of their small room behind him and set off to find the washroom. What he found was a simple and crude room with a number of stalls broken up by rotted wood partitions.

There was a charge to use the bathroom, naturally. Fifty silver, clearly marked and charged to everyone who wanted it.

Out in the wastelands, bathwater and drinking water were two different things. For most places, bathwater was contaminated and not suitable to drink. Letting too much in your gullet would harm the organs. Washing the grime off wasn’t a problem, though.

“Wait a minute!” Autumn came trundling after him, carrying a pair of buckets. “Let me shower first. You can keep an eye out.”

“Why? You need a bodyguard to shower now?”

“Nonsense, of course I do! This place is full of unsavory people. What if one of them gets some ideas?” Autumn wasn’t interested in haggling over this, she was anxious to get clean. “Just keep everyone out – that means you, too. If you try to peek on me while I’m showering, I’ll… I’ll…”

Autumn suddenly realized she couldn’t even come up with a worthy threat.

“You’ll… offer your body to me?” Cloudhawk offered helpfully.