So… there was no sign of Olivier, like, anywhere.
“Fucking fuckity fucks,” Emilia grumbled as she tried to extend one of the annoying, slow, and aetherstore-intensive recon skills she had over the area.
Unfortunately, due to how dangerous the area was—seriously, the sounds of the firefight between the Drinarna and some criminals back near the bakery could still be heard, despite her being blocks away now—Emilia was struggling to find a place where she could hunker down and just let the skill reach out. No, instead, she was left to slip into alleyways, the smallest of disturbances in the area causing her to tense and lose connection to the recon skill—and it wasn’t even like she was flinching or freaking out for no reason! Some dude had tried to rob her! Fortunately, she had some cash on her, so she’d just given him some, and he’d left her alone, but still! It was all making it very hard to concentrate!
They really needed a better recon skill, and of course, now that her life wasn’t in imminent danger, her Censor was refusing to let her use her core to haphazardly map the area. Even the little bit she had been allowed to use it had been amazing, though. It was the sort of experience that made her wonder why using cores was impossibly more intuitive than using aetherstores—after all, it wasn’t like aetherstores could be used without a Censor… usually.
Technically,
there was a way to use skills without a Censor, but it was tedious, to say the least—tedious, and the sort of thing that the government clamped down hard around. It wasn’t illegal; rather, they just didn’t want other nations finding out that a few of its citizens could use skills without Censors, so the moment anyone showed signs they might be one of the few, they were dragged in for
a talking to.
Emilia had no idea how many people were currently on the list, but while the government had refused to confirm it, she suspected all non-devs were—although she doubted they all knew it was possible, her own talking to only occurring once The Black Knot realized she was programming all the skills and functions coming out of her friend group. More, she suspected that if given the right tools, all non-devs and quite a few low-devs could do it—certainly, a lot of her friends could because she and Halen could do it, and they weren’t stupid enough not to share the how of it with the people they trusted, lest someone die when their Censor was disabled and they could have maybe saved themself.
Fuck Baalphoria and its secrets, with their vague threats that if they shared it was possibly they might just end up being offed by the government itself for having the audacity. If using a skill without a Censor was going to save someone’s life, they should do it and deal with the consequences to national security later. Besides, the Blood Rain General already knew, having seen someone use a skill without a Censor during the war—apparently their Censor had been damaged during a failed decapitation attempt. Emilia… wasn’t actually sure what had happened to the person after they’d taken out the person who had attempted to kill them, plus several dozen other soldiers in the area. Had they gotten away or succumbed to their injuries… or just been captured and tortured because, you know, war?
Glancing at the haphazard map that was being put together by her short instances of the recon skill, the core map, and what her Censor had been mapping during her running about the tunnels and city, Emilia decided that attempting to get back into the tunnels was her best bet. At least there, she might be able to stop and properly let the recon skill do its job, rather than deal with constant instances of only getting it up to 10% of its actual capacity. If the map was correct, there should be another entrance somewhere nearby—inside the very decrepit building that looked one wrong breath away from collapsing, most likely.
Needless to say, her Censor didn’t like either the idea of going back into the tunnels—too difficult to get out of quickly, and it really didn’t want to be forced to risk damage to itself, her brain, and core again—or into the building—it really did look ready to give at any moment. Too bad for it! In they were going!
According to a more generic scan of the building, there was probably at least one person inside—a number of small animals, as well. Given the state of it… did Lüshan have a homeless population? Presumably they did, but this would be the first time Emilia would potentially be in contact with any of them—even the man who had tried to rob her had stated he needed to bring food home for his kids, and while
home
could be used to refer to
the location one is currently living in, legal or otherwise
, she’d had the sense he really did have a proper, legal home. Probably not a nice home, but still a home.
Hopefully whoever was inside the building wouldn’t be too upset about her using their makeshift home to get back into the tunnels? Actually, maybe they would know where the entrance was? She still had some cash on her, so she could sweeten the deal a bit if they caused too much of a fuss… or just knock them out. It would probably depend on the person. The man from before had been apologetic in his desperation, hence the easy handing over of some of her emergency travel cash. If he’d been more aggressive—and yes, Emilia realized that her not considering a knife aimed at her as aggressive might have said a bit too much about her—she would have just knocked him out and sent off a message to the Drinarna to come arrest him… maybe.
Honestly, Emilia had no idea what to think or do about the Drinarna. Part of her wanted to message Wander right now, and tell him what she could of was happening. The thing was… what if he was with someone who was in on it? That person could read her message, read between the lines of what she could say, and then bang! They could attack Wander, and he’d be dead and while it wouldn’t exactly be her fault, neither would it not be her fault. So, yeah, for the moment, she was just not going to be messaging him—and if she ended up in a situation where she needed the Drinarna to come and arrest someone? Then… that was a problem for later!
Sometimes, the best answer was just not to think about it! Was this part of why too many of her friends—and not friends, somehow—were headed her way? Possibly! But still! Future problems.
Emilia gave the door a few knocks before sticking her head inside and calling a soft, “Ja ma?” No one responded, and that was probably expected, given she could very well be another criminal or Drinarna officer—who knew what was worse in this area. Still, she heard the soft shuffle of feet, followed by a wet cough and a quiet shushing sound. It was far off—so quiet that without her Censor pushing her senses higher, she might not have heard it.
“Hi,”
she called out in a soft, hopefully soothing voice.
“I’m not with the Drini, just looking for access to the tunnels. I think there’s one in this building, or at least close by? If you’re able to tell me where it is, that would be great. If not, I’ll just be looking around a bit to see if I can find it.”
No voices calling out that they’d come help. Instead, in the distance, a soft conversation echoed between at least two people. It sounded like an argument? Like one person was saying to go help, the other telling them no and to be quiet.
Hesitating for a moment, wondering if it was a good idea or not, she added that she had some cash to pay for any help. The situation already sucked, every moment of Olivier being missing another moment where he could be hurt, scared, tortured. Who the fuck knew, but even the potential of a few minutes more of lost time was eating at her, and she’d already lost so much.
More quiet conversation occurred in a room far to the left, followed by the soft shuffle of footsteps—two sets, she thought. Emilia’s eyes slide to the doorway she figured the people would come from, and a second later, the dirty face of a man who was maybe a decade or two older than her poked out. Somehow, even his blue eyes seemed dirty for how dull and lifeless they were. Behind him, another voice muttered something and nudged him forward, his already deep frown pulling further downward as he stepped out from the shadows. Another person appeared a moment later, the lower half of their face covered by a mask, the child held in their arms more dirty hoodie than anything.
Fuck. It was bad enough for adults to be living like this, but the child? That was… Emilia knew the Baalphorian government sometimes left their Ex-300 communities in particular to struggle, but they at least tried not to let things get this bad. Plus, with the mask and the way the second person was breathing, they were definitely sick—probably with olthagri, a particularly brutal and contagious illness for adults. Luckily, it was mild in children, so the kid would be okay. It could be deadly to adults, though, and given the state of the person—their sunken eyes, the wheeze in their breath, the broken blood vessels over their cheeks from vomiting so much—they were definitely dealing with a severe, potentially deadly case.
Fucking fucks. Did she have enough money to give these people, so they could get treatment? Probably not, and while she could direct them to the Baalphorian embassy…
“You can’t help everyone,”
someone had once told her, back when she had first met Yujao and seen the streets where he had grown up, half the people criminals, everyone else half-dead from the illnesses that spread through the cramped district with brutal efficiency.
Ironically, few people died of olthagri there because it was the sort of illness that people rarely caught more than once, and almost all children caught it in their first few years of life. Emilia, having never even heard of the disease that was mostly contained to the central region of the continent, had caught it during that trip. Fortunately, as she’d been a teenager, it hadn’t been too terrible—certainly, even with only Yujao and Hurinren taking care of her, lest someone find out they’d gone outside the palace walls, she hadn’t been more than
quite sick.
It was also fortunate now, as she didn’t have to worry about catching it from these three—or was it two? The first man certainly seemed tired and malnourished, but not sick—not with olthagri, anyways. Who knew what other illnesses he could have, contagious or otherwise.
“You know where the tunnel is?”
Emilia asked, wondering if she should move closer or let them lead. The fact that they’d all come out together either meant that, despite being so sick, the second person was the one they thought could fight her off, if she tried anything, or that they were planning to try something. Hopefully not the latter, given the child, but Emilia knew that desperate people did desperate things.
Nodding, the man pointed back the way they had come— Ah, maybe that was why they’d all come out? They hadn’t wanted to be trapped back there with her? Indeed, a second later, the second person was scurrying across the room and the man stepping out of the doorway, motioning her through.
A less confident, less stupid, person might have hesitated—wondered if this was a set-up. Emilia did wonder, but she didn’t hesitate. Neither of these two were giving more than desperate, broken vibes. They just wanted her gone—were probably just hoping that her promise of cash wasn’t a lie to get their help.
“After you,”
the man said, his polite, if also annoyed, tone at odds with his appearance.
Trying to be her cheerful, disarming self, Emilia didn’t quite skip past him, but she certainly threw as much lighthearted energy into her step as possible without risking offending the people. It wasn’t like she wanted them to think she was wary of them nor that she was flaunting her own carefree life at them—was her life currently carefree, what with the manslaughter charge and her missing lawyer-to-be? Absolutely not. The point still stood, and no matter what problems she was currently dealing with, they weren’t as dire as what these people were living through.
The man stepped through the doorway behind her, but the second person remained behind, their breathing growing rougher because one of the few things that actually helped with olthagri was a lot of bed rest. It was, unfortunately, bed rest on your back, which made breathing feel terrible. Emilia could still remember the urge to sit up, her body screaming that laying down was hurting, not helping her. It didn’t matter that she knew even sitting up would make breathing worse; her body had still been convinced she needed to sit up.
If Emilia sped up her steps as she followed the man’s instructions, hoping to get out of there as fast a possible, so the second person could lay back down, no one needed to know—not that anyone would care.
“Thanks,”
she said when she pulled open the door that led to the tunnels. At one point, it had probably been hidden behind the bookcase that lay toppled on its side nearby; now, it just sat there, open for use. Had she not been so concerned about the other person getting back to bed, she might have asked if any of them used it to move through the city. Despite her curiosity, Emilia wasn’t that cruel, and instead she began digging through her bag for her cash, wondering if she should give it all over, or just some. Considering she’d already needed cash twice, maybe she should just give up some, even if these people clearly needed it and—
A crash sounded from the way they had just come from, and Emilia was already shooting back towards the second person and the child before the man had reacted to the sound.
.
!
Arc 9 | Chapter 389: Stupid Recon Skill
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