Chapter 32 (1/2)

As Randidly had expected, the police officer returned. What he hadn’t really anticipated was that the group of them would drive over in a police van, and hop out in full swat gear. They strutted forward, heading once more towards the main building, where Donny stood, his arms crossed and looking petulant.

Slipping closer, Randidly wondered idly how much health a bullet would deplete. Probably not a large amount, especially if you had some endurance to toughen you up. A human started with something like 20 health, and were pretty easily killed by bullets. But it wasn’t even the impact, it was the internal damage, the bleeding.

So maybe vitality would be more useful for surviving a bullet…?

***

Decklan lounged on one of the wooden chairs that Sam would trade for a certain number of wolverine or lizard carcasses, considering the approaching police force. Based on their stature and stance, the first 3 or so were well trained, but the rest…

Well, they were likely newly deputized. Their hands kept jumping to their guns, and their helmeted heads flicked back and forth, scanning the rather sizable crowd.

Decklan was extremely disappointed that he had missed the chance to be trained by Randidly like Donny had, but he had made himself useful in other ways. Him, Tera, and some of the other survivors from last night had made rounds through some of the nearby valleys, looking for small hamlets that used to be there. Some were there, some weren’t.

Sometimes the ones that were there were covered in gore, but others had survivors, either looking up at the pillar of light from the Newbie Village with suspicious eyes or cowering in their cellars. Either way, when Decklan arrived he gave them a greasy smile and gave them something they hadn’t had in a while; the chance for human interaction.

They managed to gather 20 odd people during the day, and about the same amount had drifted in, seeking the light.

What was most pleasing was that their group now numbered 8 women, not including Tera. More disappointing was the fact that none were as young and fresh as Tera looked, except for one, that was firmly under the arm of a rather special individual who called himself Dozer.

Dozer was built like a linebacker and had a forehead that could crack granite. What was more annoying was that he obtained the class “Brute”, which apparently gave +2 Str per level, +1 Stat, and +4 health/mana/stamina.

The flat strength bonus was a lot less useful than Donny’s split among three stats, but even if Dozer wouldn’t grow up to be tough, he could hit hard.

Right now Decklan, Dozer, and about a dozen other sat in chairs, watching the police approach,  lounging lazily like the group that knew they were effectively the strongest of people who were here currently.

Decklan and the other survivors hadn’t joined in the sparring, but Dozer had. Decklan had no doubt that he had put everything he could into strength, with the way he had thrown another man like a rag doll, taking his chair as “spoils”, and joining Decklan’s circle, his raven haired female friend under his arm.

But that event did have a positive consequence; one of the newer individuals who wandered up, a thin man with glasses, revealed himself to have the class Disciple, and possess the skill healing palm, mending the wound, making a recovery that should take weeks only take hours.

That man, Ptolemy, also sat in the circle of chairs, albeit nervously.

One of the newcomers shifted uneasily as the police stopped in front of Donny, who stood alone by the Village Chieftain’s House.

“Think… uh, think we should… go help?” The man asked uncertainly.

“They have guns, just sit down, it will sort itself out.” Another hissed.

Decklan just chuckled. “It’s fine. Nothing will happen as long as the Ghosthound is watching.”

The four individuals who had taken classes to fight, and survived last night, nodded fervently, having witnessed his strength.

Dozer grunted and tilted his head.

“Who is The Ghosthound?” The girl under his arm asked, her voice slightly petulant.

Closing his eyes, Decklan ignored the question, and the talking ceased as the head police officer removed his helmet, revealing, his dark skin and serious face.

“Kid, I’m only going to ask you once-”

“And I’m going to say this once,” Donny interrupted, his voice nasally, but lower and more controlled than Decklan had been expecting. “If you refuse to come under my flag, why should I help you? The more people who take classes from here, the more monsters assault us every night.”

The group around Decklan started muttering, shocked at this news, but Decklan saw Dozer open his mouth in a tiny little tooth-smile. To Decklan’s surprise, Donny continued to speak, wiping away any positive goodwill he had built for his calm demeanor.

“We could barely make it through last night alive! It’s too much of a risk to allow more people to get classes.”