******
Initiating…
Identifying…
Hardware : Simulator [REDACTED] – [REDACTED]
Operating System : [REDACTED]
Please Provide Your Clearance Level.
Detected: Agent [REDACTED]. Code name Creep. Class [REDACTED].
Greetings, Agent [REDACTED].
You may proceed.
Input Detected…
Project Name : RUSTING BONE – [REDACTED] – [REDACTED] – 1
Requested by : Agent [REDACTED]. Code name [REDACTED]. Class [REDACTED].
Approved by : [REDACTED]
Project Lead : Agent [REDACTED]. Code name Creep. Class [REDACTED].
Identity and Clearance Confirmed.
Proceeding…
Scenario : Rusting Bone
Loading Subject(s)…
Subject 0 : Demonoid
Subject 1 : Rubber People
Randomize Relationship?
> Yes.
Rolling Stats and Relationships…
Generating Names…
Apply Subject 0 and Subject 1 as Primary Point of View?
> Yes.
Allow Secondary Point of View if Primary Point of View is Idle or Inactive?
> Yes.
Allow Reconstruction of Past Memories?
> Yes
Scaling Threat Level?
> No.
Area Dependent Threat Level?
> Yes.
---------------------------------------------------
Scenario : Rusting Bone
Supernatural : No
Subject 0 : Umbra
Model Race : Demonoid
Subject 1 : Tristia
Model Race : Rubber People
Threat Level : Static, Area Dependent
---------------------------------------------------
Proceed With The Simulation?
> Yes.
Generating Environment…
Generating Environment States…
Generating Actors…
Generating Actors States…
Generating Actors Memories…
Simulation Ready.
Simulation Starting in:
3
2
1
******
The sound of a coarse hide being flayed from tough flesh rumbled through the forest. Occasionally, a hint of strong alcohol and pungent herbs filled the air, masking the scent of the blood. A loud hammering echoed, startling the nearby birds and overtaking the loud harvesting process.
A man in steel armor clenched and unclenched his left fist. His left forearm was covered in bandages, blood still seeping through the fabric.
“Still hurting?” a dark-skin man in light composite armor offered a canteen.
“Nah…. I’m good,” he accepted the gesture.
“It ain’t broken, eh?”
“S’pose not. The gauntlet got fucked up, though…”
“Aye,” they looked towards a dark-skinned woman who still tried to shape the dented gauntlet back with a wooden mallet. “Well, if you’re good, get your asses to work then… we ain’t want to attract more of these bear fuckers.”
“Al—”
“No! Absolutely fucking not!” a loud female voice cut them off.
“Why not? We are a team, no?”
“I bloody hunt at least a quarter of these bastards!” a hooded dark-skinned woman—heavy crossbow strapped at her back—jabbed her fingers to dozens of dead huge bear-like monsters.
Seven of them succumbed to several heavy bolts lodged in their chests.
“Oh, come on, Tris,” the man shrugged, his steel armor clattering against his sword. “You can’t expect to carry all these hides by yourself, can you?”
“I will make do,” Tristia rolled her eyes, “and it is Tristia to you!”
“You do know that us folks are not built for strength, Tristia,” a male dark-skinned human with white hair grunted. “No matter how much we train, it just is not in our bloody nature, eh?” As he blinked, the moment he opened his deep brown eyes, they were briefly covered by a membrane which followed the movement of his eyelids.
“So, what then? I have to share all my bloody hunt with you?”
“Well, we’ll just ask for a couple silver coins to carry the hides. Seems fair, eh?” Similar to Tristia and other dark-skinned mercenary, the man looked quick on his feet. Most preferred a more active combat style with a light armor, a spear, and a back-up sword.
That was in contrast with the fair-skinned mercenaries who mostly wore steel-plated armors combined with polearms.
“Ain’t about right, eh, Tristia?” he shouldered his poleaxe with one arm. His wide shoulder and frame easily bore the weight of the steel armor and the weapon. “Three silvers seems fair. Heck, you got like… 1.000 Shells? 1.500? That’s from just one these fuck… and you got like seven of them.”
“You can’t bring this on your own! Not even the two of you!” Tristia glared at them, “I have to pay the lots of you three silvers each?! There 20 of you! That’s fuckin 6.000 Shells!”
“Well, these lots are a wee bit heavy, so… come on, you still got a lot…”
“Enough! You’re my own fuckin kin…” she shook her head. “I’ll just bloody ask that guy.”
“That guy, you—”
“Umbra!” Tristia jogged to a crouching figure with a long pair of tails with serrated stingers. His steel helmet clattered at his waist as he yanked the hide off the beast’s flesh. The long tails—almost twice his own height—swayed everytime he moved. A dense lump of bones protruded from his spine, still visible under his long coat, supporting the armored tails.
“Hm?” he stood up, dwarfing even the tallest man. His long black hair—just barely reached his shoulder—veiled a pair of muted, pale green eyes, from which a single black horn jutted out. The only clear scarring was a deep gash running from the side of his right lip to near his ear. “Did someone call me?” his voice was deep, almost like a growl.
“Yeah…” she approached him.
“What is it?”
Tristia looked up, just noticed at how huge he was up close. “So… I have been meaning to ask this… uh… could you help me carry the hides?” she quickly continued. “I’ll pay you for the troubles… how about… five silvers? And… I’ll get the bones for you… you eat bones… right? Or you want the bear’s meat, too?”
“Just bones and what you want me to carry.”
“Yeah… the meat will rot kinda quick. So… you agree, right?”
“Aye. Just bring ‘em here once you’re done.”
She surprised that he agreed so easily, but then replied, “Perfect!” she hurried back to the monsters. “Kindly scoot the fuck away, would you?” she produced a saw, a knife, and a whetstone from her bag, pushing the other mercenaries away.
The other mercenaries didn’t have any choice, but to leave.
“Fuckin’ whore…”
“I heard that, you arse fuck!” Tristia shouted.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
On the other hand, “That fuckin’ broad again…” the mercenary with injured arm grunted.
“That guy ain’t refuse either.”
“I’m alright with that guy. He ain’t mess with us, but that damn broad?”
“Yeah… remind me again, mate… why the heck did we even let her join us?”
“Don’t even ask me…”
“Ho! Catch!” the female dark-skinned mercenary who tried to hammered the gauntlet back shouted, then threw the gauntlet. “Better find a blacksmith, eh? Mallet ain’t gonna cut it.”
It still dented here and there, but the shape had returned. “Right. Appreciate that…” he put the gauntlet back on.
Then, they looked awkwardly at her.
The woman immediately noticed. “Say it,” she folded her arms.
“You ain’t gonna say anything to her?”
“We’re both the same race as hers… not you, of course,” she poked her blunt side of the spear to the fair-skinned mercenary’s chest plate. “So, why don’t you ask her?”
“You both are… uh, ladies and same race.”
“Ladies? Just say broad, you arse,” she grunted.
“Well, you’re both broads,” the male dark-skinned mercenary stated again.
“Still nope… she got that odd accent…” she looked to Tristia. “She ain’t raised a townie, that’s for sure…”
“What accent? You both sound the same to me.”
“Same.”
“Men… not like it would matter,” she stared at the gauntlet. “Not biting anywhere, ain’t it?”
“Nah. Appreciate the help…” he clenched and unclenched his fist, rotating his wrist.
“Good,” she grabbed her spear which was wrapped in rope.
“You really need a change,” the fair-skinned mercenary said. “Wooden shaft ain’t gonna cut it.”
She put the weapon on her shoulder. “Want to buy me a new one, then?”
“You fuckin’ wish.”
“Then, shut your bloody mouth up,” she walked away.
“Fuckin’ whore…” he grumbled.
She raised up her middle finger.
He just sneered and adjusted the gauntlet as the male dark-skinned mercenary looked at him. “What is it?”
“You together, mate?”
“Nah, we go way back…” he tied up the strap.
“Well, not a lot of women like that…” he shrugged, putting his arm around the fair-skin’s armored shoulder, “She’s a bloody keeper, mate…”
He grunted. “Look… ain’t it fuckin’ weird?”
“Got a tad comfortable with each other, then?”
“Aye… well, we kinda grow up together…”
“You both do that already?”
“Do what?”
“You bloody know.”
“We ain’t sleeping together if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Then, better… want an advice?”
He sighed, then nodded.
“Try talking it out, eh? Get your feeling straight. Y’know… my wife an old friend of mine…”
“You’re fuckin’ married?!”
“Yep…” he let go of his leather gloves, revealing a metal ring on his ring finger.
“So… was it weird?”
“Bloody yeah… heck, we fuck before. So it’s bloody awkward when I asked her out, eh?” he sneered and looked at the ring. “Then… well, it goes normal… it takes time, sure… believe me, mate… marrying her would be better than any girl you find elsewhere.”
“Yeah…”
“Go for it, then. Life’s way too bloody short, mate…” he patted his back.
“Appreciate it… truly…”
“Alright… so, come on, then, let’s finish this shit up… eh?”
“Yeah…” he let out a long sigh, then stared at the ring.
“Still got something in mind?”
“Yeah, well… how about the rings, then? You buy ‘em later?”
“Aye, we bought it after we got married. We got them from junk traders…” he looked at the ring. “It ain’t matching, but she wants it, so, what the heck…”
“At least it’s not rusty…”
“I got them checked. It was… silver… alloy… or something? They said it won’t rust.”
“Well, lucky you, then.”
“Aye, she got good eyes. I’ll tell the whole story back at Gambit, eh? We finish this first…”
“Aye, aye.”
“Is that all?” Umbra stuffed the last roll of hides to his backpack.
“Aye… and the bones,” she gave him 16 giant thigh bones.
“Thanks…”
“Done? Alright, let’s get the hell away from here…”
While the others carried backpacks designed for humans, Umbra used a large backpack normally used by pack beasts, enabling Tristia to stuff every roll of hides and several monster’s thigh bones in his bag, and still had some space for more.
Even while carrying that much weight behind his back, Umbra still could follow the rest of the groups with ease, almost as if unburdened.
Their breathes labored in the dry humid forest. Some even already panted heavily, with sweat ran down their faces. Most even poured some water on the tops of their heads, trying to cool down.
“Fuckin’ Sun… ain’t make this easy either.”
“Aye…”
“HO! Ain’t this far enough?!” one shouted.
“Not yet. We ain’t in the clear,” the archer, leading the group, replied.
“Fuck… how much longer, eh?”
“Well, until we can’t smell their shit and piss, that’s when.”
Luckily, it was not long before they were out of the beast’s territory. They quickly erected some makeshift tents and rested in the shades.
“Hey… got some spare?” a mercenary asked for the canteen.
“Aye…” he handed the canteen.
“Appreciate it…”
The mood of the group was definitely low. They, after all, had to be satisfied with a small portion of the hunts. While it was true that they still earned some profits, greed was one hell of a drug.
The mercenaries eyed Umbra who started a fire around a rock-throwing distance away. Close enough for them to back up one another if there were an attack, but far enough that any words spoken, even a sharp hiss would be reduced to mere muffling.
Then, they shifted to Tristia who just leaned against a tree, slightly farther away. She was already biting through her salted meat while keeping her eyes on Umbra. Natural, since he had her loots.
Umbra sighed as he put off the strap of his helmet—oddly shaped to fit his horn. As usual, he placed the helmet down. He barely looked tired as he dropped the backpack with a dull thud. He unbuckled a set of long sabers from his waist and laid them next to him. But his eyes were unfocused, like his body was there, but his mind was somewhere else.
The primary saber was so long that some might mistake it as a longsword with the large hilts and thicker spine than most shorter saber, except some might wonder for its loop guard. Even his off-hand saber was significantly longer than many arming swords, but it had more protection with loop guard and a wider cross guard. His choice of armor too was on the lighter side with reinforced leather long coat, instead of steel plates.
He sat down, then grabbed several large bones from his backpacks and roasted them by the fire. His eyes then fall upon his left hand, on a small trinket tied on his wrist.
Tristia, on the other hand, was still standing. Looking that Umbra just settled, she then slung her crossbow forward and lowered her posture and just sat, bouncing a bit at the end. Her torso was akin of gliding down while she bent her legs to relaxed lotus position.
Similarly to Umbra, she also opted for leather long coat with the addition of a hood and mask which she barely put down, only leaving her pale red eyes and dark-skin around her eyes visible.
Some mercenaries still glared sharply at Tristia.
“Ho…”
“What?” he still had a meat jerky in his mouth while still glaring at Tristia.
“Don’t make it fuckin’ obvious.”
“Don’t fuckin care… you lots thinking what I think?”
“The broad or the big guy?”
“Big guy.”
“What of him?”
“Like get him to… share those hides with us? Or just tell him to drop the deals with her?”
“You want to say that to his face?”
“Why not? He looks like an alright guy.”
“And if he refused?”
“Shit… aye, that would awkward, eh?”
“Yeah…”
“Right… so any other plan? Tristia’s a fuckin whore, she won’t budge. I don’t mind talking to that guy… but if he refused, that’ll awkward…”
“What if they just run away with those hides after that? He ain’t seem to mind that much weight on his back…”
“True… and, I guess, sleeping drugs won’t do shit, huh?”
“You got sleeping drugs?” they all stared at the fair-skinned mercenary.
“Yeah, why? Got trouble getting some sleep.”
“You sure you ain’t—”
“I still got some fuckin’ morale, you—”
The other mercenaries immediately glared, forcing him stop blabbering.
Tristia glanced at them.
Umbra, too, looked up. His green eyes were on them.
“Right… morale…” a male dark-skinned mercenary sighed, trying to continue. “Ain’t like you won’t fuck a tree that looks a fuckin cunt, eh?”
“Oh, fuck you!” luckily, he quickly caught on. “Like, you fuckin’ wouldn’t!”
“I got a wife, you piece of arse!”
They started to bicker again, slowly making sure that Umbra and Tristia would not notice.
Umbra just lowered his head again, returning to his own small domain.
Tristia just rolled her eyes and stared at Umbra again.
As the conversation started to slow down, the mercenaries continued with their plan, briefly glancing at them.
“Right… good call…”
“Aye… and to answer that. True, we, Mountain People, ain’t that weak against whatever you Grass Walkers made. Drugs, stimulants, none that matter in small dose… not to mention a bloody Infernal. That guy might just straight up immune. Or just use more.”
“Well, with bigger dose, it would give up with the smell, ain’t it?”
“Aye… so…” he took a deep breath, “violence it is?”
“Seems the only way. I ain’t going back with less than 1000 Shells…”
“Second on that.”
“So, anyone won’t want to?”
They looked at one another. Some looked hesitated, but none dared to speak.
“Good… so what’s the plan now? Umbra would be a fuckin’ mess to deal with…”
“He ain’t the problem, ain’t he? That broad and her bloody crossbow is,” he bit into the jerky. “That piece of ass kill the lots of the Stone Bears, eh?
“Both will be. Alright… look, the big guy first, alright? He would be a pain in the arse to go down… so, I say we take him out when he don’t wear his helmet, then?” he gestured toward Umbra. “Like when he rest or something…”
“Aye, a couple of swing to the head should do the trick, then just cut his head off.”
“Wait, ain’t it better to sell him?”
“As slaves?”
“He’s a bloody Infernal. That’s like thousands of Shells, mate.”
“If not tens of thousands.”
“What makes you say that?”
“First, he’s an Ice Infernal, eh? I did hear that Ice Infernal a wee bit rarer, eh?”
“Ah, true… it’s Fire Infernal that’s more common…”
“Green eyes, one horn, and two tails… I don’t know about the lots of you… but I ain’t see an Infernal like him…”
“Hm… alright… so, it was settled then? We sell him as slaves?”
“No, no…” another mercenary shook her head. “We ain’t sure to knock him out, eh? That could happen if… and only IF, we caught him off guard.”
“Aye, I agree with her,” a mercenary scratched his chin, then continued. “You lots know what they said on how to kill the Infernal, eh?”
“Yeah, cut their necks, or beat the noggin till it’s shattered.”
“So? You want to risk it?”
“I agree. Just kill him, mate… it ain’t worth the risk. We can just sell that broad instead.”
“How about we just try first? If we fail, then just kill him, eh?”
“And, who’ll carry him, then? He weight like a fuckin’ ton…. and about the bloody hides? Just leave them to rot here?”
“Ah, fuck… right…”
“What if…” a Mountain People mercenary mumbled. “What if I rent two pack bulls from Gambit? One for the hides, one for him.”
“You’ll be exhausted… the fight can last for minutes, could be hours… who knows? So, you sure you want to run all the way to Gambit and back after that?”
“I got a couple of Stimulants.”
“You what?” they all stared at him.
“Calm your arse down…” he revealed three metal canister. Two contained a vial of clear liquid, while the other contained the syringe. “For insurance, alright? So, I should be able to run to Gambit in… about half a day. If you lots want to chip in for the stimulants, I’ll do it.”
“How much was it?”
“600 Shells, both.”
“So, that would be… 30 Shells from us, each?”
“About right.”
“Look, we ain’t finish about that to kill him or not, yet. In case you lots forgot, he’s a bloody Infernal… he ain’t go down easy, okay?”
“There 20 of us and only 2 of ‘em… should not be that matter.”
“Aye, let’s just keep them in, box ‘em, you know?”
“His range sure is long, but it ain’t matter if he can’t harm us,” one pointed to his own steel armor.
“Right, so… you Grass Walkers would be a tad closer than us, alright?”
“Sure, you lots just keep poking on his legs.”
“Right, back to the bulls. So, 30 Shells from each of us, then? We’ll split the bull cost later?”
“Alright…”
“You alright with that shit, mate? I know you said yourself about your race and drugs, but that would leave a bad taste after the rush ended, won’t it?”
“Won’t matter, I’ll get those Metal Men to cleanse my system.”
“How much did those… Robots charge for a shot to cleanse your system?”
“Ain’t much, I believe… around 200 Shells?”
“So… that makes… 40 Shells from each, plus the bulls.”
“Seems fair, you think?”
“Well, appreciate that, the lots of you,” the Mountain People mercenary nodded.
“It’s business, mate. Don’t worry about it, eh?”
“Anything else, then?”
“Okay… worst shit, he ain’t out and the broad draw her crossbow?”
“Well, if they know, or just a bit wary, then… just surround them?” he shrugged. “No point risk to knocking him out if he know, eh?”
“Aye, so… just rush the broad and surround him.”
“Okay, seems decent enough… now, when?”
“How about… tomorrow noon, same time? Plenty of light… we could take it slow.”
“Yeah, sounds fair… if things go well, we might be done before the night falls.”
“Once you tie ‘em up good, then, I’ll go to Gambit… I would get there at noon, and probably be back the day after tomorrow at night. Shit… the bulls would be hard to lead…”
“Take as much time as you need, it would be a pain leading the bulls when it’s dark, eh?”
“No, I could see in the dark… but the bulls probably ain’t that like being dragged around and, I ain’t sure to know where the hell you’ll be as well… got to feed those bulls as well, you know?”
“Right… so, what if we sent a couple scouts ahead or we just stay?
“Stay, huh… quite risky… but, should be a better option for you, then?”
“Aye, would be easier for me to track back here,” he nodded.
“Anyone object, then?”
They looked around.
None seemed want to say another word.
“Good… so, something else you lots think that we might miss?”
They looked around again.
Once again, none.
“Alright. Then, tonight… we’ll move our fire a bit closer to his… right? Lower his guard a bit… then, we get them tomorrow…”
******
Research Log 1.
Agent: [REDACTED]. Code name: Creep. Class: [REDACTED]
I do not expect that the machine is able to simulate other unnamed procedural generated characters with such detail.
Let me… fascinating… the simulator labeled them as Mercenary 0 until Mercenary 19. Also… there are already hundreds of actors labeled… let me see…
(Distant noise)
Oh, okay… it works well… their path and motivation are already calculated.
Unexpected, but a very welcomed result.
Moving on to race naming. Infernal and Mountain People… simple, but quite effective. Also, love the Grass Walkers replacement for ordinary humans.
They hail, or rather curse the Sun. Which also means the other side should be the Moon… right?
Also, is Mountain People truly comes from mountains of the continent here? And those nictitating membranes on the Mountain People is not in our Rubber People’s model.
There is a lot to be studied…
We might even have to create another race or sub-race after this simulation ends.
And… I am quite curious how the new simulator will handle Demonoid model which should have a supernatural power in a world without supernatural element.
However… with this kind of detail, I do not think Subject 0 and Subject 1 will be long for. I should prepare a proposal to [REDACTED] for clearance to add another subjects or just let the simulator choose a random actor as its main point of view later.
(Sipping coffee)
(Grunting…)
Last but not least, I have one important point for those who will replace my position in the future.
Do not tamper with the simulation. Let the simulation run on its own! You may pause and look around, or even roll back when necessary.
But, do NOT tamper with the simulation.
We do not need a reset due to impure data. You may send a formal proposal to the [REDACTED], but unless the [REDACTED] has accepted your proposal, do not change anything.
Failure to comply may end in a demotion or termination.
******
---█o█not e□pect?a?±y i□t□r??ference---
