Volume II
The Cost of Debt
“Debt is a four letter word and means a four word sentence - Be Prepared for Trouble.”
― Lucas Remmerswaal
Steel vehicles had many practical advantages, like robustness and safety. I and at least half of my body experienced its hardy character first hand. But I felt anything, but safe. I looked around me. There were heat and smoke coming from one end of the wagon. Luckily, there weren’t many passengers on the train, or at least not in this cart. Most of them also had an unexpected embrace with the unyielding steel. Only a grey streaked man in a vintage trench coat was still standing. “Thanks for the help”, I thought.
When I managed to stand up he pestered me: “You, girl, how did you do that?”
“Do what?” I moaned. Not five minutes in the city and my body already got welcome presents in the form of bruises, yay.
“Don’t play dumb. I saw you.”
“And you saw what exactly?” Why am I being questioned?
“You blocked effortlessly something which…” he stopped himself and paused for a moment, “something a student like you should not be able to.”
I remembered a hooded guy and a lightning attack. My body moved instinctively. My recollection was kind of hazy.
“Look around you! I think you should help these people”, and me, I added silently, “instead of asking weird questions.”
It appeared like he only just now comprehended the situation we were in: “We will continue this conversation later.” He went over to the former ceiling and took up a simple battle stance. He proceeded with a flurry of punches and kicks against the current wall. Every strike punctured the steel. The combination created a makeshift exit. I knew he was strong the minute I saw his unconcerned face. Every cloud has a silver lining, I guess.
He continued to not give a tinker's damn about the other people on the derailed train. Does one lose their humanity through cultivation? I was a bit quicker back on my feet, probably because of my passive regeneration. There were some other students who were already on their way to evacuate. A couple still lay on the ground. I walked up to them only to notice the smell of blood. Oh no. I hurried to check on them.
Both had gaping head wounds. A blood-splattered metal suitcase lay in front of them. The explosion transformed the carry-on baggage into an impromptu projectile weapon. As I approached to take their pulse and apply first aid, a shrill voice shouted: “Keep your filthy hands away!” The sudden admonishment took me aback. Was I doing something wrong? Right, I heard people with head injuries shouldn’t be moved. I stepped back when a man in a blue suit and thick trim glasses hurriedly moved towards the injured couple. Shockingly he stepped on them. He even trampled onto the woman's head, nearly crushing it, to grab the deadly luggage. The piece of shit parked his treasured case on his breast and repeated his inhuman transgression, not even dignifying the existence of the individuals under his leather soles.
I woke up from my stupor and tackled this asshole. “These are people!” All the hairs on my body stood up. Every muscle tensed. I barely could hold myself back. I tried to slow down my ragged breathing.
“Get away you filthy peasant! How are those any of my concerns?” He tried to squiggle by me but I blocked his way. Only to remind me that I couldn’t waste my time with this asshole. There was only one way to vent my anger. I punched his face as hard as I could. His glasses shattered under my artificial fist. The impact deformed his face in a way artists of old would paint people. The only color involved in this kind of craftsmanship was the kind that splattered the walls red. He dropped the metal suitcase while stumbling backward.
He wasn’t down though. I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. He was tougher than he looked! “You Bitch! Your life is over!” His broken visage reminded me of a zombie in a cheap horror film I once saw on the grams. Its only weakness was fire. The heroes luckily were fire cultivators. In comparison: I had a grass spirit that I couldn’t even invoke. Yeah, I definitely would be the first to die in a zombie scenario. Let’s hope it doesn’t turn out that way in real life.
Zombieman certainly looked like he was ready for a fight. But it never came to that. No, not because he re-thought his inhumane behavior. And certainly not because of my punch. He didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. No, remember the heat and smoke from the back of the wagon? The fire must have spread to the fuel tanks because a sudden explosion toasted the scrupulous zombie black. I only barely could throw myself against the steel floor, for once, thankful for its coolness. I still got a bit singed. The brunt of the explosion stopped a few meters in front of me, or specifically, in front of the metal suitcase. Like the fire didn’t dare approach it. Strange.
I needed to get out as soon as possible. Or I feared I’d end up like that poor fellow. Sure, he was the biggest asshole I ever saw. But no one deserves to die like this. I hurried over to the pair. I took both their pulses.
…
There was no beat. I… Was I too late? I looked at them and swallowed. Their hands were resting in each other. They wore plain but clean clothes, probably sightseers out from the frontiers. Most tourists visit the city for a weekend full of excitement, to get an inkling of how immortal life would be. Maybe they wanted to celebrate a birthday, an anniversary, or just life itself, not knowing death was awaiting them, not even in the city proper. What if they have children waiting for them? I need to find their IDs! Anything! I…
Another explosion roused me from my shock. This time the suitcase nearly battered me to death. But it only struck my already bruised back. Fuck this thing! I nearly wanted to throw it away but I remembered the burned jerk. His family needed to know as well so I took the case, in hopes that it contained some form of identification. I also grabbed the woman's handbag and ran out of the crumbling wagon.
I did expect the grey streaked stranger to wait for me. What I didn’t anticipate was that the station became a battlefield. Black-brown animal-like robots were fighting the city police. Mecha beasts somehow invaded the city! The cops struck them down one after another with their mighty Thunderbird spirits. Screeching gunshots were filling the air. People were screaming in anger, confusion, and agony. The inquisitive guy from earlier lost his trenchcoat and was in the midst of the battlefield. His battlecries louder than everything else. His fists were like cannons, his kicks like a plasma knife. Strong!
My equipment was a simple leather bag and a cursed carry-on which already killed at least two people. All in all, I was pretty optimistic that I no longer had to go to school anymore, corpses generally don’t. Yay!
I picked the direction where I perceived the least amount of action and started running as fast as I could. To my right, on the roof of the station's main building, sat a giant mecha-serpent. It was not like the other mecha beast rusty brown. Shiny reddish scales covered its mighty body, they reflected the few sunbeams the smog let through.
For a moment it looked like it was only a silent observer. My foolish thoughts were disproven when it opened its monstrous mouth. A beam infused with fire energy was shot at the train. Destroying the last third of the wagon I just exited. It was no fuel explosion, neither was it a bomb. It was this mecha beast who derailed our train and is ruining my quiet school life! My little existence could not mess with its awesome power but I could curse it regardless: “Fuck you, you scaly wannabe lizard! Your mom is a laundry machine!”
I was sure it couldn’t hear me over this distance with all the interfering battle noise. But it felt like it directly looked into my eyes. We stared at each other for a split second. Oops. It started to slither in my direction. I reacted as rational as one does in such a situation. I run like hell while shouting: “Ahhhhh~”
Thanks for the chapter