Chapter 018

  Sadie's Fangs

  Ethan left Emma's Kitchen a little after two in the afternoon, with plans to meet back up with Jason the next day for supper.

  While the two of them were together, they'd also invited and accepted one another's friends requests in their social screens. Neither one of them knew exactly what options would be available from being friends, and nothing new appeared in their screens either.

  Jason complained about the six hour postage system, and Ethan was glad it wasn't just him thinking it was a poor game design choice. The other player also told him he'd seen the police station near Shulberry Red Light, which would come in handy. They parted ways and went about their own business of completing missions.

  It was still raining out, with the sun hiding behind a thick mass of ugly clouds. Pushing through the weather, Ethan knew he only had about four good hours before it would get dark again.

  His mind buzzed with strategy as the water seeped back into his clothing. Another thing he'd done before leaving Emma's was talk briefly with One-Eyed Frankie, just to get a fresh reminder of where he lived. It would make his next mission so much easier.

  He wasn't sure if he'd need anything special to fix Dead Ned's stairs, but he knew he had a saw and a hammer in his toolbox. He had no idea if he would need them, but it was better to have them just in case.

  At the front door of Hollow Court Apartments, he nodded to Claude.

  The man nodded back, "afternoon, Mr. Jones."

  Not stopping to chat as he hurried to his apartment, he was glad the daytime porter hadn't pulled him into a conversation.

  Once inside, he put the screwdriver back in his toolbox and removed the sawblade and hammer. He hadn't realized his inventory was getting full, so he tossed Samuel's letter and Mr. Gallagher's note in the trash. He no longer needed them, and had probably never needed to keep them, but he didn't know that at the time.

  With the sawblade and hammer in his inventory, Ethan left the apartment and headed towards Dead Ned's place. The rain was coming down harder again. He quickened his pace, determined to get the job done quickly.

  As he walked, he felt uneasy at multiple points. He knew he was being watched, and he couldn't shake whatever it was. He tried to push the thought out of his mind and focus on the task at hand, but it was hard to ignore the knot in his stomach.

  Was it instinct or anxiety gnawing at him? He ultimately decided it didn't matter, and continued on, finally reaching Superior. The little neighborhood where One-Eyed Frankie and Dead Ned lived was really just a bunch of dilapidated duplexes.

  It was just one of many that Thomas Gallagher owned. Trying to keep himself focused, he didn't let his mind wander too far. He did however, think a little too much about just how many properties Mr. Gallagher had, and wondered how the man had come to own them.

  Turning off the main stretch of road and following the sidewalk down to the homes, it didn't take Ethan much longer. When he finally arrived at Dead Ned's place, he was relieved to see the stairs would be easy to fix.

  Glancing at his mini-map showed two people inside, but there was no reason to disturb them. All the materials he needed were sitting right next to the broken stairs.

  It was only four steps from the ground to the porch. The two-inch by ten-inch boards that made up the stairs had broken in half a long time ago. They also looked to be infested by termites. Judging by the state of the house and the tall grass, it looked as though the whole property needed to be condemned.

  But he wasn't being asked to rebuild the house; just the steps. Luckily, the job looked as easy as replacing the window pane at Ms. Harmon's place. The boards were already cut, and he realized he didn't even need any nails.

  All he had to do was equip the hammer, use it to knock away all the rotten boards, place the new already cut boards roughly where the old ones had been, and then watch the stairs come back to life as he banged imaginary nails into place with a few more THWACK! THWACK'S!

  After just a couple minutes of Handy work the stairs looked brand new and fixed. No one even knew he was there until after the job was already done.

  Unfortunately, the front door swung open wide and a slack-jawed hillbilly of a man stared out at him, stunned and confused by his presence. The man didn't even notice the new steps as Ethan simply stood there in the rain.

  "Who are you?"

  He shook his head, realizing instantly that Dead Ned had started up a conversation just seconds before he would have otherwise received the notification for the mission.

  "Ethan," he said, "I work for Mr. Gallagher. I was just…"

  "What are you doing?"

  He fought back a smirk and tried not to shake his head. "I was just fixing your steps. They're good as new, Ned."

  "What steps?"

  "Your steps," Ethan sighed and pointed to the new construction, "the ones right here."

  "Oh, yeah?" Dead Ned answered loudly. "What are you pointing at?"

  He exhaled and slumped his shoulders, having no patience to handle the many questions. Ethan didn't know why the man was called Dead Ned, but if he had to guess, it might be that his brain cells were all dead.

  "Your steps are repaired!"

  The man turned and yelled into the house. "Your stepsister's here!"

  Ethan put a hand over his face. He didn't feel like arguing or explaining any further, and wondered if anything would happen if he just walked away.

  Instantly deciding that was his best course of action, he turned and made it three steps before a woman came to the door and called out, "where? I don't see her!"

  Turning back, Ethan saw a brunette woman he'd never seen before, but the name above her head informed him it was Susan Culligan.

  She asked him directly, "did you say my stepsister was here?"

  "No," Ethan said with a laugh, pointing at the stairs again. "I'm Ethan. I work for Mr. Gallagher. I fixed the steps and I told Dead Ned your steps are repaired, not your stepsister's here."

  "Oh!" Susan laughed, looking at the steps. "It's about damn time! Thank you so much. Ned can't really hear… or think for that matter. Long story. Anyways, thanks! They look good!"

  "You're welcome."

  To his surprise and relief, the woman smiled, gave him a nod, and then simply closed the door, leaving him to stand alone in the rain. He rather liked it that way, despite how abruptly she just went back to whatever they were doing before he arrived.

  Only a second later, the notification popped up.

  Mission Progress: Regular Mr. Handyman - You performed the second part of a larger mission for Thomas Gallagher.

  +300 XP

  You have 3,200 XP total

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  You need 450 more XP to reach level 3

  Regular Mr. Handyman

  Your work for Thomas Gallagher is always incomplete. Things need repair over the course of their lifetime, regardless of why. You were hired by Mr. Gallagher to fix things, and for some reason you slacked off for a full week. It's time to catch up. With Ms. Harmon’s window fixed and Dead Ned's steps replaced, now it's mowing time in The Green Yards. Mow at least two lawns belonging to Mr. Gallagher.

  Current Progress: 50%

  "Good progress," he told himself, "but I need more."

  Ethan kept pressing onward through the rain. Despite everything, he was making incredible progress in a short amount of time, and he wanted to keep up the pace.

  Was he feeling tired? Yes. Was the dreary weather starting to eat away at his desire to get things done? Yes. Did he have blisters on his feet from speed-walking for miles in cheap water-logged boots? Yes.

  But things were starting to click together, and he still had about an hour to go before he knew it would start getting dark enough to be dangerous out. Considering the possibility of being attacked as soon as he hit level three, he thought about his friend Jason.

  A quick glance at his social screen indicated that Jason had leveled up to four, Stalvek to five, and Mia to three. He didn't know very many players, but all the ones he did know had already quickly slipped ahead of him.

  Any chance of outpacing other players felt like a lost cause. All he was trying to do now was keep up, but he also had to think about staying alive. Was he putting too much fear into the idea of being attacked and killed?

  Shrugging, he decided on two things. The first was that he would swing by a little shop he'd passed a couple of times called O'Malley's.

  According to the mini-map, there was a NPC inside. He had no idea if he would find a weapon that synergized with the Knives talent, but Ethan wanted something he could fight with as soon as he ticked over to the next level.

  Second, if he didn't waste any time while shopping, he might be able to locate the police station and knock out the conversation with Officer Packley.

  Thanks to Jason, he knew the station was just down the road from Shulberry Red Light, and he knew where that place was. All he had to do was keep moving along and get lucky the cop wasn't out on patrol or something.

  Locating O'Malley's, Ethan stepped into a small, dingy shop, once again leaking water everywhere into a business. The windows were grimy and the place looked closed, but a grizzled man stood behind the counter, rifling through boxes.

  Being interrupted by Ethan’s presence, the man with the thick mustache and broken teeth eyed him with surprise.

  "Uh, hello. What can I, uh… do for ya, man?" Nichols asked in a gruff voice.

  He nodded to the shopkeeper, but continued looking around the place. The inside was cramped and cluttered, the shelves and racks packed full of all manner of items.

  There were tools, clothing, and various household goods, but trying to stay on task, he was drawn to the weapons display at the back of the store, behind the counter.

  Ethan smirked. "Your name is Nichols? Pronounced like the coin, a nickel?”

  "Yeah. That’s what they call me! What's it matter for ya?"

  "Oh, I guess it doesn't…" Ethan trailed off, still eyeing the place as he stepped forward. The guy seemed awkward, but who was he to judge? “I'm looking for a weapon."

  "Alright, easy enough, man. Uh… what type ya need?"

  The man didn't seem to care or notice that Ethan trailed water everywhere he walked. Instead, Nichols seemed to forget where his own items even were.

  Ethan watched the man look around a bit. Honestly, he was more concerned with the pain of his blisters. He also tried shrugging the oddity of this man away, thinking instead of weapons, and of being able to sit down and relax at the end of the day.

  "Something uncommon but affordable,” he answered finally. “I don't have a ton of money to spend."

  The man nodded and gestured towards a rack of baseball bats on the wall. "We got a few options for ya. How 'bout a baseball bat? They're cheap and easy to swing, and you can be on your way in no time at all.”

  Ethan shook his head. "Oh, sorry, I should have been clearer. I need something better than a bat."

  The old man grunted. "You said affordable!"

  "I did, you're right," he felt silly. Being pressed for time, he hadn't put a lot of thought into it yet. "Maybe something more unique than a bat."

  Nichols eyed him again, then reached under the counter and pulled out what seemed to be the first thing the man had seen there. It was a black wooden club with a leather-wrapped handle.

  "This here's a good option. It's a billy club, used by the coppers. Hurts like hell when hit, trust me! It's sturdy and it packs a good punch."

  He took the billy club from Nichols and tested its weight in his hand. It felt solid and well-balanced, but it was a little on the small side for a blunt swinging instrument. The weapon also wasn't a blade.

  Out of curiosity, he asked, "How much damage does it do?"

  "I don't know,” the man said, "I guess it depends who's doing the swinging and what the thing hits."

  Smirking, Ethan remembered what Jason had told him about the stat blocks. He shook his head and handed it back to the man. "Not my style. I think I need something small with a blade. Like daggers or throwing knives or something."

  The grizzled man looked unhappy with his changing requirements. Ethan didn't care. He was looking for something more interesting than a baseball bat or a billy club, and it would get dark soon.

  Through the glass case, he could see a variety of small pocket knives and ninja stars, but most of them looked like garbage.

  “You have anything like these?” Ethan pointed at the weapons. "Only… better?"

  In truth, he had no idea what the quality or the rating of the blades were. Trying to identify them through the case only gave him basic names with an all-too-familiar message he couldn't use them to hurt NPCs or players.

  Nichols glanced around nervously for a second, and Ethan furrowed his brows at the behavior. Despite this, the man eventually discovered something below the counter that looked interesting to him.

  Maybe the man knew how to do his job, but Ethan was starting to suspect Nichols didn’t know what he was doing. Then finally, the man showed him a small open box while fake-grinning a mouth full of broken teeth.

  "These might interest ya, but they're not what I would call affordable. They’re, uh… special rare or something.”

  Nichols held the box up. Inside the little chest were two small charcoal-colored blades that partially resembled arrowheads. They had cylindrical taped handles. Both were identical and symmetrical in width and thickness, their blades shaped more like little pyramids than flat triangles.

  The pointy tips were about four inches in length, with the thin handles being slightly more than that. In total, they couldn't be any longer than eight or nine inches.

  The blades could easily get lost when thrown, especially in darkness, and they didn't look very useful in close-quarters, unless he was using them to stab with.

  He didn't know much about these types of weapons, and they didn't appear all that fancy, but they were interesting.

  Before asking Nichols what they were, he tried identifying them.

  Sadie's Fangs

  These dark metal kunai blades glint menacingly, reflecting light with an unsettling sheen, while the handles are wrapped in tape to provide better grip. The twin blades radiate a mysterious dark aura that pulses with a life of their own, hinting at the powerful legacy of their former owner, Sadie. The otherworldly essence within them calls out to you, going unnoticed by most others.

  Rating: Excellent - The quality, material, and origin of the weapons are currently a mystery to you, but your basic understanding is enough to inform you they are unique.

  Requirements: Level 3, Knives Talent

  Special: Soul-Bound Upon Acceptance

  He didn't have any frame of reference for what the Excellent rating actually meant, but it sounded a lot better than Poor.

  Nichols just stood there while Ethan looked. When he reached for them, the man allowed him to hold the blades, appearing happy to do so, but still appearing anxious and ready to conclude their transaction.

  As soon as Ethan touched the weapons, the blades visibly brightened, and Ethan felt the overwhelming sensation of a presence he'd never felt before. It was like he'd suddenly met a beautiful soul for the first time.

  He was in love with them… or her.

  Staring at the lightweight kunai blades in his hands for way too long, he finally noticed that Nichols didn’t appear to notice the soft glow the metal gave off.

  "What's this effect?"

  "What effect, kid?" the gruff man asked. "Are you seeing things?"

  "No," Ethan said, quickly deciding not to mention the unknown glowing symbols on the pointy tips that formed as he continued holding Sadie’s Fangs. "Just messing with you. How much are they?"

  He moved the blades around and tested their weight. They felt like nothing. Their balance was fantastic, although he didn't have any real experience in order to compare them with others.

  What he did know was that a strange energy told him they already belonged to him. Actually, scratch that idea, he thought. Some thing was calling for him to take ownership, and he had a good feeling that thing or someone was Sadie.

  Who the hell is Sadie?

  The shopkeeper, apparently unaware of any supernatural happenings, quickly said, "nine dollars."

  He felt like that was cheap since Nichols had previously said they were special rare, whatever that had meant.

  Despite this, he had a strange willingness to hand over all his money for the blades if necessary.

  Not even thinking however, Ethan immediately started negotiating. "Six."

  "No," the rough man spit angrily. "Eight. No more haggling or I kick you out."

  Not wanting to push his luck, he realized Nichols likely had a higher Negotiator score than he did. It made sense, as the man likely haggled with prices every day.

  He agreed to the man's offer. If they protected him just one time, they were worth more than eight dollars. He had a feeling the weapons… or more specifically, Sadie… would be worth way more than that many times over.

  Ethan handed Nichols the money and the two throwing blades known as Sadie's Fangs entered his inventory.

  Less than a second later, he received a system message. Before he could read it, Nichols was quickly ushering him to leave.

  Maybe the guy was trying to close up for the evening. Yeah, that must be it. Ethan happily obliged the rough shopkeeper and stepped outside.

  Nichols locked up the store and disappeared within. Having no one else around to worry about, he shifted his focus back to the system message.

  A unique item with mysterious properties is inviting you to take ownership. Becoming soul-bound with Sadie’s Fangs means they belong to you and only you. If accepted, no other being, entity, or soul can use Sadie’s Fangs or take them from you, so long as you exist.

  Do you wish to bind Sadie’s Fangs to your soul? Please verbally say 'Yes' or 'No.'

  Understanding but not putting any real thought into the idea that Sadie was obviously a vampire, and that her fangs were likely inside the blades, Ethan said, “yes.”

  He was simply excited to get a named weapon at such a low level.

  Nothing bad could happen, right?