"Chess sucks…"
Clay, 13 years old, had just lost another game of chess against his cousin.
"You're only saying that because you always lose," he responded in a monotone voice.
Of course, whenever Clay managed to win a game every once in a while by the slimmest of margins, his cousin would become snappy for the rest of the day.
"Winning chess a lot doesn't actually mean you're smart, especially if it's against me."
His cousin started putting the pieces back in their proper place. "How come I only ever hear stupid people say that sort of thing? It's like that time you were telling me the difference between book smarts and street smarts."
"That stuff is totally real, though!" Clay asserted. "Between you and me, I know for a fact I'd do way better on the street."
"Yeah, I bet you'd do incredibly well as a member of the homeless community."
"Better than you! If you tried to pull this--" Clay did a stereotypical nerd voice, "'Rook to E5' bullshit on the streets, you'd get shanked!"
"And you wouldn't?" His cousin made a tally mark inside of a notepad he kept in his pocket.
"I'd be fine! Better than you!"
"And what would you do if someone was coming at you with a knife?"
Clay thought for a second, then quickly said, "I'd trick him into using the knife on someone else first! You can't do that in chess!"
"Technically, you can…Alright, let's just go ahead and say you pull that off. What next? A street tough like him might not even need a knife to wipe the floor with a middle-class white kid like you."
"Well, we both know I'm too handsome to punch, right?" Clay fluttered his eyelashes. "Hmm?"
"Yes, you're a very pretty girl."
"Right! Nobody would want to destroy my boyish good looks, so they'd obviously go for a gut punch!"
His cousin nodded. "Obviously."
Clay mimed doing an underhanded punch against his other hand. Once he stopped his own punch, he unfolded his fist and made his fingers twitch like he was in pain. "Boom! Their fist slams right into the frying pan I hid underneath my shirt! While they're reeling from having their hand broken, I'd take my frying pan out and slam them over the head with it!"
"Wait, when was it established you get to have a frying pan underneath your shirt? I gave you a lot of unlikely things there, but I draw the line at the secret frying pan."
"I never leave home without it! You've just never seen me have to use it!"
"Yeah? Lift your shirt so I can see it."
"I am currently inside my home, so of course it wouldn't be on me right now."
"Of course." His cousin nodded, slowly this time. "Okay, but now you've started a gang war. What are you going to do when the next guy comes along and is wise to your frying pan maneuvers?"
"Then I guess it's safe to say he'll think it's worth destroying the world's eighth wonder to secure a win. He'll go for my face!" Clay grinned confidently. "That's when I'd surprise him at the last second with a mechanism that lifts the frying up through the neck hole of my shirt and protects my face. He breaks his hand, and then I slam him over the head with my frying pan."
"What? So you're meant to be some sort of inventor now? This is supposed to be based at least a little in reality."
"In this situation, I'd have been able to guess that more guys would come, so I prepared accordingly."
"Yeah, but what I'm saying is that these preparations are a little beyond you."
Clay huffed. "I take offense to that. I have 'Boy Genius' tattooed on my chest for a reason."
"Lift your shirt then."
"We're not even married, and you want me to get naked for you? Stay in your lane, pal."
"Cute." Correctly believing that their time playing chess was over for the day, his cousin set the board aside. "I don't think your problem is insufficient 'book smarts'. You just rely too much on your ability to improvise, which suits you just fine when we're playing something like Werewolf, but when we play chess you're only planning two or three moves ahead."
Clay had started pretending to snore halfway through all that.
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Clay should have known something like this could happen. He should have thought far enough ahead.
Milly knew where the guns were, but how was she to know that she needed one? The asshole patrol never bothered anyone besides Clay and Alan after they checked the building for Radman, creating a mental blind spot that Clay hadn't factored into his planning.
It all felt so obvious now. Pushed far enough into a corner, people like this would definitely take drastic measures.
Alan should have thought of it. Clay should have thought of it and made a suggestion to Alan if he couldn't think of it.
"Claaayy!" Angie called out between little hiccups. "Clay! Mom's not getting up! Clay!"
"Don't hurt her!" Clay urged Ed. He couldn't focus on Angie's feelings right now.
"Why shouldn't I? Things have gotten to this point; why shouldn't I just kill as many of you as I can before you shoot me?" His voice was so calm.
"Whatever's going on, it's between us! We don't need to get other people involved! It's nothing we can't still work out!"
"You almost sound like you mean it…That's your leader's wife in there, right? Do you think he'll be kind enough to let me off after this?"
Clay swallowed thickly.
"Is she…?"
"Dead? Do you want to step inside and check?" He momentarily pointed his knife at the door before moving it close to Angie again.
She's not dead. She's not dead. There's no way she's dead. Someone like that can't die. A world where someone like me is alive and she's not…
"She's not dead," Clay told himself.
"Oh, she isn't?" Ed tilted his head back. "That's a relief. To be honest, I don't enjoy killing people. Thank goodness we have a medical expert that can tell if someone's alive or dead without even looking at them."
That'd just be too cruel.
"But on the off chance your diagnosis is wrong, keep in mind that I only had to go this far because of you."
Clay said nothing.
"I only wanted the girl because I figured it would pressure Alan into making you give me Richard. Looks like I was too slow…"
Clay said nothing.
"You have an unsettling look in your eyes. It reminds me of a time when I was certain I was about to be attacked by a teenage student of mine. You're not planning to shoot through this girl to kill me, are you?"
Clay said nothing.
"Have you ever killed anyone yourself? A real person, I mean."
Clay said nothing.
"Are you going to kill me, or am I going to kill you? If you're having a hard time making a decision, I suggest you just let me take the kid. We can trade for Richard later."
Clay said nothing.
I can't let him leave.
If Ed were allowed to get away, he might regroup with the other player. It'd be all over for Alan's group.
At the same time…
I can't kill him.
Not only was Clay's gun empty, he also didn't know if he had the guts to kill someone with his own hands. There was enough disconnect with guns that made it feel like one wasn't even really doing anything. If pushed hard enough, Clay thought he could shoot someone.
But his gun was empty. That meant that he'd have to beat him to death or stab him if he could steal his knife. He wanted to avoid that and just capture him instead.
Clay took a step forward. Ed took a step back.
"You're playing a dangerous game right now, Clay." Ed glared at him. "If you come any closer, I'll definitely kill this girl."
"She's the only thing keeping me from shooting you," Clay responded coldly.
Ed had all the power here, even if he didn't know it. Clay had to assert control.
"Wow, you can code-switch on a dime, can't you?" Ed tried a polite smile, but he couldn't keep the contempt out of it. "Not too long ago you were lambasting Ronny for copying me. Then you were begging and crying like it was second nature. Now you're playing the part of a disaffected negotiator. I wonder which of those is your real personality…"
"Clayyy! Clayy!"
"Shut up, already!" Clay snapped at her. "I'm trying to think!"
He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. How was he supposed to help anyone when she kept yelling at him like that?
Unfortunately, telling kids to shut up never works.
Instead of speaking properly, Angie devolved into an ugly mixture of screaming and sobbing.
"You don't like kids, do you?" Ed raised his voice to be heard over Angie while he readjusted his hold on her to keep her from getting away.
Clay said nothing. He couldn't get swept up in his pace.
Don't focus on anything he says. Just think.
"I'm the same way, actually. I despise children. Makes you wonder why I decided to become a teacher, huh?"
"…"
"I liked teaching and leading people. It felt good to be tutoring kids around my age, especially when they were older. I thought that would translate into a love of the classroom, but no such luck. I couldn't get the qualifications to teach in universities, so it was only classes between 3rd and 12th grade for me."
Ed took a step back.
No, it's actually a good thing if this standoff gets dragged on. If I just wait until Alan gets back, we'll have him completely cornered.
At the same time…
Alan might give him whatever he wants to save Angie or go totally berserk if he finds out Milly's hurt.
"What do you think is worse? Dealing with idiot children who don't understand anything no matter how many times you patiently dumb it down for them, or arrogant teenagers who understand you just fine but insist on taking their anger at their parents out on you because they know you can't really do anything to them?"
Stop putting me in these types of situations! I only processed half of what you just said!
"Seriously, I don't think there's any group of people that hate kids more than teachers. Being a parent is hard enough…" Ed jostled Angie. "Imagine a room packed full of kids like this."
"Mommy…hic! Mommm!"
Clay had a bitter retort to all of that, but he kept his mouth shut to keep from provoking him.
Ed took a step back. "You don't care, though. I bet you think all of your teachers were stupid killjoys who just didn't get it."
Clay did kind of think that.
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"I'm letting you know now that you were the problem."
Clay also thought that as well.
"Now you're an adult that thinks he can do whatever he wants without consequences. A typical case of arrested development."
"What are you talking about?" Clay had a tense look on his face. "When did I ever do anything that could have possibly given you that impression?"
"It's just your behaviors, really. Like a class clown that's big and bad in the classroom, you cry when you're sent to the principal's office." Ed took another step back. "You've done the things you've done; now you're facing the consequences while acting like you're the one being inconvenienced."
Clay couldn't understand this guy at all. What was he saying? Did he even have a point he was trying to make? A woman might be dead, and Clay was the one doing whatever he wanted?
This is annoying…
Why did he have to listen to scum like this go on and on? Why did he have to experience this sort of cliché?
Clay's posture changed when a door opened farther down the hall. Ed was too absorbed in the 'conversation' to notice.
"Fuck…" He spat on the ground. "It must be nice being able to hide behind a gun. You wouldn't last ten seconds against me or any of my friends toe-to-toe."
"Kinda what the gun's for." Clay took a step forward. "You also didn't seem to mind it much when you guys had ten guns on us."
"I let you guys live because I was convinced you didn't know where Richard was. This all just makes me regret not letting Ron do whatever he pleased with you…There were multiple occasions where he'd throw out some of the most juvenile, playground bully ideas, but I tempered him because I thought you were just some stupid kid. If it weren't for me, you'd have been eating centipedes for lunch every day."
By this point, Angie had wasted all of her energy. All she could do was whine while she tried to angle herself to be able to bite Ed's arm.
"Even now, I'm being so reasonable. I'm speaking to you reasonably. I'm offering you a deal where we can both walk away clean. Why do I have to share a world with you people who can't just have a simple conversation with--?"
"Give me a break!" Clay cut him off, thrusting his gun in his direction. "Don't pretend like anything about this is reasonable! You think just because you're not yelling, I should do whatever you say!? No wonder you couldn't escape the school system, you're a pseudo-intellectual high schooler to your core!"
Ed's attitude made a lot of sense now that Clay thought about it. He'd just lost most of his friends, and whatever was left of them were going to be dead by the end of the day.
Like Clay, Ed was on his last mental rope. He put on a calm show, but…
"Acting cool about it doesn't mean you're not throwing a tantrum!"
"JUST SHOOT THEM ALREADY!"
Ed heard his own voice over his right shoulder and turned his head to look, leaving him vulnerable as Calvin moved in to throw his body against his lower left side.
Clay had seen Calvin coming and decided to deposit the command he'd stolen earlier to keep Ed from giving a first-second order to his men. Clay’s hope was to confuse the situation as much as possible and keep him from instinctively stabbing Angie.
"Let go of 'er! Let go of the knife!" Calvin shouted at him as he seized the knife-brandishing arm. Ed was undoubtedly stronger, but it created a gap that allowed Clay to move in and slam the butt of his gun into his elbow and force him to drop Angie.
Angie scrambled back into Alan's apartment while Clay tried to slam Ed again, this time in the face. Unfortunately, he recovered enough to move out of the way with the same motion he used to ram Calvin into a wall.
Even though it was surely a hard blow to take, Calvin still held onto Ed's arm and kept trying to take the knife from him. Clay moved in again, but Ed sent a well-executed backkick into his stomach to knock him away. It wasn't damage his worn body could afford to take; he wasn't as quick to recover as he should have been.
Unfortunately, now there was nothing stopping Ed from taking the knife into his free hand and slashing at Calvin's face.
"Aghh! Son of a bitch!" He started calling Ed all sorts of names, including quite a few racial slurs, but he also didn't let go of his arm. There was enough blood on his face that Clay couldn't tell exactly where he'd been cut.
"Let go of me!"
Shunk!
Ed stabbed Calvin deep in the arm, deep enough that it must have gotten stuck in a bone. He couldn't easily retrieve it.
"You're the one making me do this! I was trying not to hurt you people!" He screamed as he started punching Calvin in the face. It only took a few blows to make him finally loosen his grip and fall to the ground, incidentally taking Ed's knife with him.
Clay didn't have any adrenaline left. There was nothing stopping him from shaking as he repositioned himself and pointed his rifle at Ed's head.
Fuck! Just point the gun at him! I don't need to turn this into a brawl!
"Stop! Stop moving!" Clay demanded. "I'll shoot you! I'll blow your goddamn head off!"
Ed only hesitated for a moment, then took off down the hall without any regard for Clay's threat.
Did he know Clay doesn't have any bullets? No, that couldn't be.
He just didn't believe Clay would actually shoot him.
Clay could only watch him sprint upstairs towards the roof, abandoning his knife.
Smug asshole, I'd have shot you for sure if I had ammo. You didn't read me at all.
There wasn't any time to waste. He couldn't let Ed escape no matter what, even if it meant leaving everyone in a bad position. He could reach the fire escape from the roof and turn it into a chase.
"Angie! Listen to me!" Clay called back while he started moving towards the roof as well. "Please, go to Howard's apartment and tell them what's going on! Do you hear me!? It's really important you do what I tell you! Now!"
He had to count on Angie to get Milly and Calvin help, even if he felt bad about leaving Calvin groaning on the ground about his eye and not even taking a second to see Milly's condition for himself.
The best way he could think of to make himself useful was capturing Ed. Capture Ed and he wins.
His body had weakened to the point where even moving up a flight of stairs to the roof made his legs scream, but he had to move quickly. The faster he pacified Ed, the faster he could check on Milly and Calvin.
Unfortunately, his impatience and his inexperience allowed for a critical opening.
The moment he stepped out onto the roof, a hand came in from outside his view to clutch the barrel of his rifle and yank it upwards while another hand slammed up into his chin.
"Ungh--!"
Clay fell back on his ass, rifle torn from his weakened grip. His legs felt numb. He'd expected Ed to be in retreat when he stepped out, not prepared to ambush him. He should have seen it coming.
"That goes to show how stupid you are." Ed pointed the stolen rifle at Clay and took a few steps back. "Pseudo-intellectual? You sure know how to talk, but I'll bet you weren't doing anything important before the plague either. People who use terms like that are just resentful manchildren who think they're above formal education. Tell me, where did that mindset get you?"
Alan was right, this guy had a mean hook. Clay could barely move.
"Why--?" Clay started to ask a question.
Click!
Ed had pulled the trigger.
He'd planned to kill Clay mid-sentence. He didn't even blink at the idea of shooting him.
Ed turned the gun over as if he'd find some malfunction he could quickly fix.
Clay slowly stood back up, but he had to lean against the open door to keep from sinking again. "That's awkward…"
"Yes, it is. Also very unfortunate for you. Now I have to beat you to death." Ed said in a matter-of-fact tone.
There was no point in fleeing, Clay wouldn't get far like this.
"Fuckk…" Clay groaned. "Aren't you at least a little embarrassed to be doing all this? This is all so mustache-twirlingly evil…"
"Evil…?" That one finally broke Ed's composure. His detached expression contorted into a perfect picture of pure hatred, animalistic rage, and barely restrained violence. He turned the rifle in his hands again to hold it like a blunt instrument but also held himself back enough to try and correct Clay. "You killed my friends, you stupid piece of shit!"
Clay was taken aback. Suddenly, the calm state he'd entered after he realized he was going to unleash the Hammer on them was completely ripped away.
Just like Ed, he lost the last foothold he had on his mental state.
"Don't you fucking--Don't you try and guilt-trip me!" Clay's voice cracked. "I didn't do anything wrong! I was just defending myself! It's not my fault!"
"If you'd just told us where Richard was, we wouldn't have had to go as far as we did!" Ed started moving closer, shattering a nearby flowerpot when he swung his new weapon for the first time. "You protected him from the very beginning! What did he promise you that you were willing to kill over it!? The Crowder deterrent!? Solar panels!?"
Clay couldn't even focus on how unreasonable Ed was being or what he should be doing to prevent his own death, he just felt like he had to defend himself.
"No! I didn't even want things to--I thought you would all just go away! I just wanted you guys to leave us alone!" Clay shoved a finger in his direction. "You escalated it! Even if it was Ronny who was about to light me on fire, you all stood there and watched! I'm not the bad guy here!"
"It's all just excuses! It could have been ended by just giving us Richard! I was fully planning on letting you go, even after it turned out you'd lied to us the whole time!" Ed was only a few feet away from Clay now.
"So we're just going to ignore the fact that Radman doesn't want anything to do with you guys!? Fuck how he felt about it!?"
"Honestly, at this point, I don't even care about Richard or making a trade! I was just hoping I'd get a chance to kill you!"
Kill?
Kill me?
Ah, that explained a lot.
Ed must have come straight here after everything went down, either suspecting something would happen if he returned to his base or too blind with his need for revenge to bother. The best option for Ed would have been to flee the city completely and let his leader know what happened.
For how hard he tried to give off the impression he was an intelligent and reasonable person, he let anger cloud his judgment and put everything on the line.
Just to have a chance to kill Clay.
Clay didn't mind the idea of dying, but there were limits that he was figuring out as time went on. First and foremost was that it couldn't be too painful, but now he was realizing he also didn't want to die to someone like this.
He didn't want to lose to someone like this.
It felt like there was something crawling on his brain.
"Hey…" Clay's voice went to the opposite extreme from their screaming match. It was almost too quiet to be heard. "If I hadn't suddenly revealed that I knew where Radman was, you would have let me burn, right?"
Ed's eyes widened. He didn't answer.
He took a purposeful step and brought the gun down on Clay's head.
Just in time for Clay to move to the side and send a quick punch into Ed's face. It was clear he hadn't expected the wobbly Clay to move so deftly.
"Guuhh--!" Blood spurted from Ed's nose as he was sent crashing back onto the ground, the rifle flying up into the air and falling someplace Clay didn't care enough to pay attention to.
Clay's body flooded with strength, more strength than he'd ever possessed in his life. All of his fatigue vanished at once.
"Shit…" Ed cursed as he jumped back to his feet. Blood continuously dripped from his nostrils, but he was otherwise still in fighting shape. "I should have known you were playing possum! It's the only trick you seem to be any good at!"
That wasn't it. Clay hadn't been pretending to be tired at all. This sudden turnaround was all thanks to his newly acquired White Skill.
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[Id BOOST]
You are in danger. Your blood is pumping. Your body is thrumming with power. You are alive.
Double your Body Stats for 2 minutes.
Halve your Body Stats (rounding down) for 5 hours after use.
5 day cooldown.
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Clay flexed his fingers. "I'm not the bad guy. I didn't move forward with my plan to trick you until my life was in danger. I scraped and begged so I wouldn't have to hurt anyone. I'm not the bad guy."
Ed took a stance and exhaled harshly to keep the blood from clogging up his nose.
Clay continued before he could respond, "Don't say anything."
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You are Clay
HEALTH: 12/16 | STAMINA: 36/40
---
LEVEL: 2/11 | EXP: 795/1000 | SKILLS: 3/5
---
STAT POINTS: 0/12 (FrL: 7 | FrA: 5) | SKILL POINTS: 2/7
---
BODY -
Strength: 5 (10) | Speed: 1 (2) | Resilience: 2 (4) | Endurance: 2 (4)
MIND -
?? | ?? | ?? | ??
HEART -
Luck: 0 | ?? | ?? | CIDURAC
---
-SKILLS-
[IMMUNITY - LV 2] | [SOUND OF SILENCE - LV 1] | [Id BOOST]
---
-ACHIEVEMENTS-
(+5 Stat Points | +1 Max Level | +3 Skill Slots | +1 WtSkill)
---
CURRENT WORLD: Dead and Dying
OBJECTIVE: Survive
TIME REMAINING: ???
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"It's only fair that I get to throw a tantrum too."
