Chapter 1307 (2/2)

As if to punctuate the statement, a fist-sized stone dislodged from the roof and fell toward Derek’s head. With an easy movement, he stepped around it without slowing down at all. Hydie chuckled, somewhat guiltily. “Plus… how are all these people getting into Kharon’s underbelly? Are there really so many powerful shadow organizations operating on Earth right now?”

Derek rubbed his chin. “If you want my honest opinion? No. They are being deliberately led here. Both to test how two of us respond to pressured situations, I think, and because the interior of Kharon isn’t nearly as vulnerable as these people seem to think. Not only is this the focal point of the moss spirits power, but this place was built by Randidly Ghosthound himself. I doubt it is easy to damage.”

Thinking about that, Hydie missed her own fist-sized stone that dislodged abruptly from the ceiling and fell toward her face.

Congratulations! Your Skill Aura of Misfortune (R) has grown to Level 199!

With an aching nose, Hydie swore to herself to pay more attention to her surroundings in the future.

*****

Theodora Greyman was in a black mood.

The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and even the trees seemed to be weirdly joyful as the wind playfull rustled their leaves. Level 19 Flesh-Eating Squirrels could be seen cheerfully chasing each other up and down nearby tree trunks. The road leading to Kharon seemed like an idyllic pathway out to a rural sanctuary rather than what it actually was: the road to the most important political event since the arrival of New Earth.

Does no one have any sense of seriousness?!?!

And Theodora hadn’t seen a single monster above Level 30 since she had arrived in the area around Kharon. Even worse, she hadn’t been able to sense the presence of any sort of security detail. Not that she wanted to be attacked, but it was immensely frustrating that there wasn’t even the slightest hint of danger around the event.

After all, there hadn’t been any high profile announcements like what happened before Zone 1’s football game, but several smaller extremist groups had made their intentions for Randidly’s birthday known. Especially groups that were radically opposed to the System and were determined to destabilize any government that accepted its presence.

And Randidly Ghosthound, for better or for worse, was all about spreading information describing how best to adapt to the System.

Next to her, Mark Rowel frowned around at their surroundings through the window. “Are there even any guards? I can’t believe that we were the ones accused of not taking threats seriously… if it hadn’t been for that fucking barrier-”

Theodora put a hand on Mark’s arm. They were riding in a Manatech carriage, with three people sitting in the interior and four guards on the outside of the vehicle. But even if they were in private, Theodora knew how fruitless getting worked up over the past was.

She had indulged that train of thought more than enough over the past few weeks. Today they needed to stay focused on the task at hand.

Mark pressed his lips into a thin line but remained silent. And it was at that point that the third individual in the carriage spoke up. “No, there are guards. They are just… strong. Impossibly strong and very good at hiding their presence.”

Theodora turned and glanced at the man sitting calmly in his wheelchair, gazing out the window of the carriage. The long fingers of his left hand manipulated a coin to dance across his knuckles, while his other hand rested on the fleece blanket that covered his legs. His name was Richter and despite his complete lack of investment in physical Stats, he was the best agent that the Special Forces of Zone 1 had.

“Really?” Theodora was slightly dubious but was inclined to trust Richter more than her own senses. This was what he specialized in, after all.

“Really,” Richter replied, still spinning the coin across his fingers.

Creasing his brows, Mark released an exaggerated sigh. “Perhaps terrorist organizations are just scared away from attempting anything based on the reputation of the Ghosthound. Or perhaps they are waiting for the actual event to begin…”

“...I guess you might be right,” Richter agreed in a light voice. His eyes never left the window.