Apocalypse: Fairy System Macronomicon (a book to read txt) 📖

myself from this political garbage fire right now, if my very soul didn’t recoil from tacit agreement with these monsters’ methods.”

“Something I’ve heard: The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing,” Jeb quoted.

Zlesk chuckled, eyeing him from the side. “That definitely sounds wiser than something that would come out of your mouth, Jebediah Trapper.”

“Oh, it is,” Jeb said, nodding. “Some old guy said it a long time ago. Was it Gandalf, maybe? Idunno. It holds true, though. They’re gonna keep doing what they do as long as nobody holds them accountable.”

“You’re right,” Zlesk said, sighing.

“How long until you’re ready for action again?” Jeb asked.

“About a week,” Zlesk said, flexing his fingers.

Damn, high Body really does speed up healing. The keegan had some pretty nasty lacerations a day ago. A week was warp speed in comparison to a normal recovery.

Jeb’s broken arm would likely take longer than that….

“Are you willing to do what we have to to keep the children out of the clutches of these people?” Jeb asked, tapping the list in Zlesk’s hand.

Zlesk straightened in his seat. “Yes.”

“Alright then, we’ve got a week until my next hearing. You rest up,” Jeb said, folding up The List before patting Zlesk on the shoulder. “And maybe give Colt some pointers.”

Jeb had some ideas for how he could legitimize the orphanage, at least enough to keep the children safe from the people in charge.

My kids, at least. Jeb was under no illusions that there weren’t more kids forgotten in the gutters at this very moment. They could never all be accounted for.

But stopping these people from killing for gain? The only thing he could hope to do was shine a light on it and force them to tiptoe.

I’ve got a week before my next visit to the court, hopefully with a judge that doesn’t give a shit about me, rather than one who wants to blame me for his crimes. Apathy would be a marked improvement.

In one week, Jeb was due for a retrial, and the lady whose ankles he’d broken hadn’t pressed charges; nobody who’d been at O’sut’s mansion wanted to admit they’d been there.

So Jeb had a week to polish up and prepare, and he had three major issues on his plate:

1: Getting Mystic Triggers up and running again.

2: Outfitting himself better.

3: Searching his body for more things stitched on by The System and getting them off.

Jeb really wanted to give himself a thorough once-over and check for more things that might have been stitched on, but the matter wasn’t pressing. He was fine now, and he would continue to be fine even if he didn’t get to it immediately.

Even if some worm-like thing in the fifth dimension was currently buried right behind his eyeball.

Jeb shuddered.

Besides, the weirdness of what came out of Jeb’s System meant it was dangerous...or at least unpredictable whether removing a piece would benefit him at all. Jeb still remembered thinking he was an apprentice wizard named Mevar for a couple minutes.

So Jeb directed his attention to the other two options. As much as Jeb wanted to make his own weapons, it was more time-efficient to buy and commission them. He couldn’t spend the entire week making a single shield-blade or wand.

Nope, his best course of action would be to send Zlesk out with a bag of gold and a list, and give Eddie some ideas, then spend the rest of the time mastering Mystic Triggers.

Delegation.

Jeb needed his Triggers back.

Jeb clapped his hands together and limped off to get to work.

******

The week went by slowly. The constant tension under the watchful eye of quickly-hired mercenaries made sure nothing got stale, and they were busy as hell, which made every day feel like its own week.

Zlesk bought him a +3 Body ring to drastically speed up Jeb’s healing, along with the magical equivalent of a flak jacket. It was a heavy vest lined with thin segments of faradan, a stone that exerted force against anything that got close to it. It would slow down anything aiming for Jeb’s vital organs, taking the punch out of them so the underlying chainmail could catch it.

Fun fact: Faradan was also what sand-pirates lined the bottom of their boats to cruise over the desert with, as well as a primary component of every major city’s walls. Jeb even spotted where they were being built to fill in the gaps left by the Stitching.

Zlesk also got him a glove with fire and speeding arrow lenses sandwiched into the back. It fired little darts of flame that emerged from the palm. It was a hand-me-down from an aristocratic keegan child, so the fit was decent for Jeb after they cut the extra-long fingers off.

It was also less-than-lethal—not being particularly powerful—but in Jeb’s experience, nobody liked getting a face full of fire-dart.

Zlesk got Jeb’s Annihilation lens gun back from the two detectives, disassembled so he didn’t get summarily executed just for carrying it, since the individual pieces weren’t illegal. They could figure out something else to do with it later.

Jeb’s fancy foot came back after three days with some new spit and polish, along with a small panel in the side that was practically invisible, where he could store stuff secretly.

Of course, a false foot was a terrifically predictable place to hide stuff, so that kind of evened things out—but still, it was nice to have.

Jeb stored a copy of the list of names in the little cubby and sealed it closed, marveling as the seam vanished completely. He buried the original under the orphanage’s floorboards.

As for Eddie, he took Jeb’s idea for a saw blade he could move with telekinesis and ran with it. The old man took an Udium-tipped blade and Refined the superhard