Downtown Pittsburgh - 8:27 AM

It didn’t take long after I stepped out of the Subspace Depot to hear people shouting from the direction of the Guild of Guilds. The walk wasn’t long at all, and the only obstruction on my path, aside from the vehicles still on the road, was the dense fog. Most of what I heard was confused proclamations, swearing, and threats as people tried to figure out what had triggered the scenario.

Thankfully, the fog obscured me as I gave them a wide berth. People were still approaching the building to find out what had happened, but that was different than getting stuck in a mob of stressed out people. There was no way for them to know I had started things off, but it was still better to avoid them before I got dragged into any drama.

Not that I would be so lucky.

The entrance to the Pitt, Gateway Plaza, had a few people standing in front of it. As I got closer, I could hear a man yelling at someone else, and inwardly said an apology to the guardsman for easily sneaking past him earlier.

“-ust guard the place, Henry!” a gruff voice yelled, piercing the fog. “And what happened?”

“… Someone got through,” another man, presumably Henry, quietly said.

“And now we’re in this huge mess because you couldn’t help but fall asleep on the job!” the first man shouted.

“They must have been some kind of rogues, boss!” Henry pleaded. “You know normal people can’t see my traps!”

“That’s all excuses! Why I oughta-“ I heard the gruff man inhale loudly. “Okay, okay, just give me a moment to think.”

The fog cleared enough that I could see Gateway Plaza, and I came across the scene I had been listening to. Henry, the guard, looked ready to drop to his knees and begin begging for forgiveness. His face was bruised and bleeding, as if he had just gotten into a fight. In front of him was a middle-aged man that I could immediately recognize as one of the upcoming guildmasters of Pittsburgh.

Greg Davis had been a nobody before the system appeared, but he was doing extremely well for himself now as Pittsburgh’s only native MVP. The man wasn’t particularly tall, though he was wide in a muscular way. He wore comfortable winter clothes and had an unlit cigar dangling from his lips. Even without a visible weapon, I knew how dangerous he was.

The members of his crew were no slouches, either. Beside him was a woman half his age with long red hair and freckled skin. She didn’t wear clothes suitable for the weather, instead opting for light attire, but it wasn’t cold enough to affect her anyway. Olivia Hunt was a fire mage that was far too powerful for the position she resigned herself to as Greg’s so-called secretary, but I wasn’t about to go down that rabbit hole.

All around them was a posse of other men and women who had banded together for the first scenario and stuck with it. One of them spotted me as I walked silently through the snow, my shoes muffling any noise it would have made, and motioned for Olivia’'s attention. She turned towards me before nudging her boss.

“Liv, you know I don’t like getting distracted when I’m thinking,” Greg grumbled.

“We have another visitor,” Olivia said. Her voice was naturally quiet, like she couldn’t fill up a room even by yelling, but I still heard it clearly.

Greg glanced at me before scowling back at Henry. “Look at this. Now we’ve got people coming from that stupid guild and already looking to liberate some buildings. Do you think we have five grand in points yet, Henry?” the man asked. Not expecting an answer, he shook his head and turned towards me. “Feel free to go on in. We don’t want any trouble.”

“That’s good to know, though I wasn’t planning on providing any,” I replied.

Pulling the cigar from his mouth, Greg looked me over as I walked past him. “Hey, kid, just a moment,” he said.

I stopped, turning around to look at him. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Don’t recognize you, and I thought I knew everyone who might have wanted to go down there. I’m Greg Davis, I stopped the first scenario,” he greeted. His eyes kept lingering on my shoes, and I imagined Henry’s words about Rogues were going through his head. “What’s your name?”

“Anthony Franklin, and I’m not from around here,” I answered, tipping my Circlet of Wasps like it was a hat. “But I’m afraid I’m rather busy. Lots to see, lots to do; I’m sure you understand.”

Greg nodded. “I getcha. Everyone’s busy these days. Chasing after your friend, maybe?” he asked, fishing for info. 

“Something like that.”

“If so, she stabbed Patrick,” he claimed, crossing his arms. “All he did was try to stop a pretty little thing like that from going into the most dangerous place on Earth. She’s not very understanding.”

Not even close to the most dangerous, I thought to myself, but I just put on a surprised face.

“She stabbed someone for getting in her way?” I asked, feigning shock. “Well, that doesn’t make a lot of sense. She’s a walking arsenal in power armor cosplay, why would anyone think she wasn’t ready for the Pitt?”

I heard a man grumble, and assumed it was Patrick.

Greg, however, just smirked. “Well, you’re right about that,” he admitted. “Alright, that’s enough out of me. You’re busy, I’m busy, so why don’t you get on down there, kid.”

“Thanks, I will. Good luck to the lot of you, sir, ma’am.” I tipped my circlet towards Olivia just as I had Greg before heading into Gateway Plaza.

Paying the cost to activate Dungeon Sight, I saw that traps were still active all over the place except for in a very straight line from the outside to the staircase. That had to have been Jamie’s handiwork. I walked beside her path, triggering more of the noisemaker traps as I did so. There was no reason for it other than to throw Greg off that I was, in fact, the one who snuck through here earlier, and even that was done on a whim.

“Took you long enough,” the Dealer said from the tunnels once I reached the bottom of the staircase.

“It’s a long walk, alright?” I grumbled. “And then there was people, and they’re still confused, and-“

“Alright, alright, quit your bellyaching,” he said. The treasure hunter stepped out of the tunnels and into my line of sight. Despite it being dark, I knew he could see just as clearly as I could. “So where’s this bank you’re heading towards? We can talk on the way.”

I jerked my head towards the sign that claimed it led to certain doom before heading that way. The Dealer followed after me. “So what’s so important that you’re willing to follow me into a dungeon cluster like this?”

“It seems you’ve made a powerful enemy, Anthony,” he said ominously.

“You have no idea how little that narrows it down. So are you talking about Seraphim, or Frastina, or the people here who wanted to wait for the next scenario?” I asked cheekily. When I looked back, the Dealer’s eyes were narrowed as if he didn’t find my words funny.

“Listen here, Anthony,” he started seriously. “Remember that you’re my goose that lays the golden eggs, so any danger to you is a danger to my wallet. Think of the poor Dealer and all the kids he needs to feed, will you?”

“First off, you have a dog,” I scoffed. “And that dog will feed her puppies once she has them whether you're there or not. You’re not going to hit me with a sentimental lie; I know you too well. Besides, you already said it might be something and it might be nothing. Which is it? Grave danger or a one sided grudge that will only be acted on via angrily worded letters?”

“Ah, regressors, they think they know everything,” the Dealer chuckled. “Fine, fine, I suppose you don’t have the option of slowing things down even if you wanted to.”

“I’m well on the path to my goal, yes,” I agreed.

Sighing, the Dealer became more serious. “Alright, then. Well, my informants picked up an interesting little tidbit from Hell not too long ago about some upstart Human with Angelic flesh up on the surface. Said his name was Anthony Franklin.”

“Zalzarog the Soul Drinker,” I muttered.

“I assumed you already knew,” the Dealer said, nodding. “The message was simple. Zalzarog wants more than just a taste, and he wants to torture you over what you helped do to his axe.”

“Yeah, I can see why that’s something he’d take umbrage with,” I stated with a dark chuckle.

“And that’s not even the worst part. Not too long after he placed a bounty on you, he rescinded it.”

I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at the Dealer. “He rescinded the bounty on me?” I asked, frowning in confusion. “That part definitely seems weird. Did you find out why?”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it,” the Dealer said. “What I wanted to do was warn you that there are things moving behind the scenes, and I don’t want you to be blindsided by Demons.”

“As luck would have it, I’m actually expecting one or two,” I replied before resuming my walk. We took a turn down a tunnel labeled Dollar Dollar Bills onto a steeper slope. “Have you heard of the Demonic Doctor Pustibule?”

That caused the alligator to pause as he reached up to stroke his chin. Holding up a finger for me to wait, he pulled out a notebook from his overall pocket and started flicking through it. “Pustibule, eh?” he asked.

“I came across him in Stanley,” I explained. “Nasty little guy. He had taken over the medical center of the university in the middle of the city. He was the first to realize my Angelic heritage, and I killed him. Well, as much as a Demon can be killed on Earth. I stole his scalpel, that’s what I used to take out the Writhing Zeppelin back in Etson, and turned it into this.”

Reaching into my inventory, I pulled out the Scalpel of Angelic Healing and held it up in front of him. He took his eyes off of his notebook to look at it, and his jaw nearly dropped. 

“You purified it?” he asked before squinting at the tool. “No, that’s not all. Any Demonic presence has been completely cast out of it. Who could you have possibly gotten to do this? And so quickly?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how confused he was, and I wasn’t the only one.

[[Patron Message]]

Oh, that is a delightful look on the Dealer’s face!

You don’t have to let him know I’m gloating, our discussion hasn’t happened nor will it, but feel free to divulge that I’m your Patron if you like. I can see the System Contract that you signed with him, so I’m not worried about him telling anyone.

Sincerely,

Sara

“You can see our contract?” I asked hesitantly, looking up at the ceiling. Then, I shook my head. “No, don’t answer, you don’t need to answer that.”

“Patron chatting with you now, then?”

“She is,” I answered. “Getting her as a Patron was what I needed your System Contract for. She’s not really allowed to be one, we’re breaking a lot of rules, apparently, but it’s been working out really well.”

The Dealer closed his notebook, giving me his rapt attention. “And who’s this mysterious Patron of yours?”

I grinned. “Esaraphelscion, Angel of the End.”

“… The world boss at the end of everything?” he asked incredulously. The alligator’s eyes were wide enough that I was worried they’d fall out of their sockets. “The Angel that every other one looks up to? Who ushers in the coming of the Prize? That Esaraphelscion?”

“The very one,” I confirmed, trying not to laugh at his expression. “I call her Sara.”

“And how in the system’s name did you manage to pull that off?”

“A little bit of awesome, a dash of confidence, a whole lot of guile,” I listed smugly. “The whole Anthony Franklin experience, really.”

The Dealer closed his mouth and started stroking his chin. “And she’s actually helpful? Not very world boss of her.”

“She’s been the most helpful Patron I’ve ever had,” I said honestly. “I’ve had a steady stream of quests, messages, and rewards. That includes the scalpel, and she’s working on the Gauntlet of the Corrupted Queen.”

“Well, I guess you were set when it came to purifying those items,” he remarked slowly.

“Yeah, but enough about that. I can already feel her radiating smugness down at us,” I said with a laugh. “What about Pustibule?”

“Ah, right,” the Dealer said with a cough. He opened his notebook back up. “Strangely, I don’t have a lot of information on him other than he is, as you said, a doctor. That could mean that he’s either a low enough level Demon that he’s never come across my informants before, or he could be a high enough level Demon that he’s been able to act in secret and not get caught.”

“He was there during the first scenario, though, so it’s probably not the latter.”

“Maybe so, maybe not,” the Dealer said as he closed his notebook. “So he’s going after you, then?”

“Him and his little dog, too,” I grumbled. “There’s a man out there named Jeremiah Wilson. He took out the Vespae Sniper, Zeros, and probably has the Shadow Sniper class. He’s got the Stinger Rifle, at least. We’re pretty sure he’s the one who resummoned Pustibule and he’s undergoing Demonic Metamorphosis.”

“And you’re sure of that?”

I waved my hand in the air. “It’s mostly speculation and secondhand information, but I’m pretty sure I’m right,” I said. “I’m fairly certain I ran into him, and I got a shock just from touching him that only happened around a Demonic presence. That, and he’s going after me for no reason, which doesn’t just happen on a fresh reset.”

“I’ll take your word for it, then,” the Dealer said before sighing. “I’ll look into Pustibule and Jeremiah Wilson for you. Figure out what to expect.”

“Thanks. And don’t worry about Zalzarog’s proclamation. I gave him a taste on purpose.” When the alligator looked at me like I was crazy, I put on a predatory grin. “Why go hunting for points when he’ll send them my way for free?”

The Dealer blinked before shaking his head. “You are one scary dude.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” I replied, my grin softening into a smile. “And Sara’s going to be able to warn me whenever those two show up, so any information would be nice but I’m not willing to pay a lot for it.”

“Cheapskate.”

“Hey, I’m trying to save the population here. That shit’s not cheap.”

He barked a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”

“That being said, there are some things I’d like you to get for me, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Depends on the things.”

I nodded. “A few things. Two blank Relocation Grenades, one keyed to the Angel Express, specifically inside one of the second story rooms in the sleeper car, and the other keyed to Hellam Township.”

“Okay, I think I know where that’s going,” the Dealer snorted.

“I’m also going to need a Guaranteed Strike Mitt, and a scroll of Blinkback.”

Now, the Dealer was starting to stroke his chin. “A scroll and not a spellbook?” he asked.

“A spellbook is going to cost far too much, and I should only need one to finish the job.” I paused, thinking about the contraption Pustibule wore to behead himself before his fight could even start. That still pissed me off, I realized. “And a can of Rust It. Even half a can will do.”

“The grenades are fairly uncommon, and the other three aren’t exactly found at the supermarket. It’s going to be costly regardless.”

“You’ve got Patrons asking for things, right?” I asked, and smirked when he nodded. “What are they on the market for these days?”

“There’s one looking for the Horseman Conquest’s Crown,” the Dealer offered.

I snorted and shook my head. “You’re going to have to tell me who’s looking for them, too. Some of these have to go to specific people. You know, for the plan.”

“You’re a tough man to work with, Anthony,” he complained. “Ares is the one asking.”

Pleasing a Patron as well known as Ares would have been a big boon to the Dealer. It was a huge ask, but one that I found acceptable. I was only saving him about a week or so of searching; Conquest’s Crown was the Greek god impersonator’s big gift to their avatar and it happening just a little bit early would be fine.

Pretending to think about it for a moment, I shrugged before nodding my head. “Okay, but that seems like I’m overpaying by quite a bit.”

“You know I make good on any debt I incur.”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” I said cheekily. “You’ll find it at the bottom of Issyk Kul, which is a lake in Kyrgyzstan. It’s surrounded by plague and pestilence, so you should have the place to yourself.”

Grinning, the Dealer added that information to his notebook before replacing it into his pocket. “Excellent. Always a pleasure, Anthony.”

“You’ll get that stuff to me soon, right?” I asked. “No rush, but a rush is still appreciated. We never know when they’re going to show up, and now all of Hell knows I’m here.”

“I hear you, and it’ll be a few days tops,” he promised. He offered me his hand, and I shook it. “It’s a deal, friend.”

“It’s a deal,” I repeated. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go this way.” I stopped and jerked my thumb towards another tunnel with a sign pointing towards Stolen Steels.

“Be safe, have fun, and all that jazz.”

“I will do exactly one of those things,” I said before walking off, waving goodbye to the alligator behind me. “See ya later.”

I didn’t receive a response, but that was fine. There was still a long way to go before I hit the bank, and he would have complained once the tunnels started becoming harder to traverse.

My destination was very close to the absolute bottom, after all.