I wake up to the girls sitting on either side of me drumming on my back while singing some bullshit about the gods sending a hero to a village. The village “hero” gets rewarded and recognized by the Empire, receiving a token of favor from the sitting Empress. For the finale they throw their hands up, -- jazz-hands! -- and sing my name.
-The gods given hero is named “Sandy”?- I drone, waiting for them to go away so I can go back to sleep. -Good thing that’s not my name.-
Cue pouting shoving match. Apparently singing about a world-saving Cataclysm preventing a cataclysm is in poor taste. More shoving as they disagree that singing about preventing cataclysms is in poor taste. Apparently I don’t count.
Good to know.
-Why aren’t you letting me sleep...?-
“Aunty wants to talk to you,” one girl huffs, crossing her arms.
“Little Corpse was too afraid to pester you.”
“You shouldn’t try to eat him, you know.”
What? No.
Instead of asking more pointless questions or being goaded into asking more pointless questions, I just blitz out and try to get whatever this is over with. Aunty meets me in the temple of me, cursing me with her eyebrows until we’re outside, and then the real tongue-lashing begins.
Rude to monks, check. Rude to Aunty, check. Ungrateful, mmhmm. Blind. -ingly bright. Got ‘em! She reaches out, grabs a pinch of skin, -- um, -- and twists.
“Ow!” I grab my arm, feelings and flesh hurting. She stares at me blankly, hand snaking out quick as shiz, and now I’m being dragged by my ear. “Why do I have ears!”
Hunans have way too many handholds, but I don’t get picked up. Ugh.
She lets my ear go, slinging me lightly to a table. Now I’m sitting, rubbing my arm and ear, and Aunty is glaring at me from over the tiny table that is clearly not meant to hold food. She snaps her fingers, a small side table set up with snacks, a small tea service, and the accounting book. She slams the book open, spins it around the tea, somehow keeping the book on the table despite it hanging mostly off the edge, not bunching up the decorative table cover, or interrupting the tea being served.
“Note 200 Regard for every surviving adult villager with 25 surviving adults, 500 per child at 5 children,” she stares at me while telling me this why? I guess she’s pointing out the information in the book, ‘cause her finger is resting on the lines as she goes. “Out of 20 monks, all expected to perish during the night, you managed to save 15.” Are raised eyebrows and long pauses good or...? “That’s 1000 for every surviving monk.
“At 500 per ghost soldier, you took out 180 soldiers, castrating 9 corpse manipulators, defeating 10 when one surrendered after seeing you dismiss ghost flame before you could take away their army.”
More eyebrows. Is this a drinking game? Or an eating game... Eyebrows equal cake... Maybe two...
“For Purifying the village you get ten-thousand for each of your four Purifications.”
Eyebrows.
“Now,” she sits back crossing her legs off to the side, leaning back, and just watching me. One eyebrow raised, -- so that’s what one cake looks like, -- but the book is still on my side. “There’s a bonus. If you complete 3 Objectives they will double your reward,” she says, holding out all five fingers. Is this a test? “Unfortunately...” she uncrosses her legs, swinging them back under the table before resting her elbow on the edge of the table, right next to her tea. “There’s a limit.
“You earned over three-hundred-thousand regard. 325,000 to be exact.” She finally picks up her tea, holding it in both hands and taking a slow, shallow sip. Did she just dip her lips in the tea? Did they catch on fire? “But the maximum Regard you can earn is 200,000, so that is what you got.”
“Oh, what? Boo!” That part I understand! I earned a lot of stuff and they didn’t want to pay me, so they gave me less. “Or are you saying that’s how I got the Imperial Regard token? Which is what?” I can pay attention!
Eyebrows!
“A badge with the forbidden symbol of the Golden Empress. A maiden cradling a star with the Sun behind her. A one-time use so it’s made of ivory, not jade or gold or anything more valuabe.” She sighs, setting down her cup and crossing her arms and legs. “The Token is for Purifying the village and preventing the awakening of a catastrophe,” Aunty says, requesting more snacks with a raised finger.
Oh, crazy, where’d those go...?
“So I did a good job and got a partial reward?” I reiterate, immediately tucking into the new treats. Lowered eyebrows count. “Are you happy or angry?”
“You did well, gained face with the monks, and earned the Imperial Regard. I just worry,” she says quietly.
“Big powerful people noticing me. Very scary,” I frown.
Do frowns count for snacks? Doesn’t feel like it.
“Do you know how much it costs to maintain Fuck Face?” she asks after taking a sip, speaking before setting down her cup.
Is emphasis equal snack? Pretty sure she’s freeing that hand to hit me...
“A lot because his spirit is weak?” I didn’t check because I don’t care outside of having something to complain about.
“It costs as much to maintain him in this new body as it did to let him build his own. You need a new servant,” Aunty says with all the finality of a matriarch laying down the law in her house. In my house. “It is merely a suggestion,” she says, flicking her wrist to let me know she’s washing her hands of my nonsense.
I doubt it. That’s probably worth a snack, though.
“So back to the village for more looting, dump off more crap that I don’t use, see if I can’t get more poison greens and free coal, then to the monks for the library,” I stand up and stretch. That was productive. “Does anyone know how to make pearls? And how is the locking information thing going? I really don’t want anyone accessing my logs to find out how the girls were created.”
“We’ve no doubt that the one who made them did it for face with the Sect, but we’ll do our best to obfuscate the details,” Aunty gives another dismissive flick. She’s told me all she wanted to tell me, and she’s done talking I guess.
“I’ll go out with the girl’s to see how the monks are faring. So this was a quest or an event?”
“A lifelong bounty in all parts of the kingdom. If anyone had managed to prevent the catastrophe at Eager Hearts they would have been rewarded similarly,” Aunty shrugs, keeping her head turned so that I’m out of her sight.
“Considering people probably caused the catastrophe at --.” “People” were trying to cause the catastrophe here, too. “Nevermind.”
I wake up, stretch, get dressed and move the girls out of the house, so I can clear my room. When I move outside the house I don’t see them, but I hear them behind me. I see that they’d stormed back in after I’d put them outside. I shrug. They can be offended all they want. I wasn’t kicking them out of the house, I was telling them to wait for me.
-Fuck Face, we’re heading out,- I announce loudly, the girls groaning, and demanding a traveling letter. -The fack is a --.-
Silent Howl:
This.
They want you to form a party for group communications.
Some people enchant rings or nibs to pass secret messages.
You can do this.
Um... Party?
The window opens and I see that there are people who can see the chat but not write in it. And I don’t know who these people are or how they got this access.
-These are mostly the people who stayed behind. Not all of them are friendly, and not all of them are in your Ghost Pot,- one of the girls informs me, peering over my shoulder like she can read the list, and it occurs to me that they might be doing just that. Cultivating is some magic bullshit.
-Wait, I’ve got unwilling souls I haven’t sent off yet?- But I sent off so many before I left. How many people were trapped in me?
-Tch! You know that there were nearly thousands in Eager Hearts alone!- one of the girls admonishes me, crossing her arms and frowning in disapproval.
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-I thought it was Eager Heart?- I retort. Got ‘em!
-*Eager Heart was the way station. Eager Hearts was your void space!*- she snaps back.
Ooh~. And “oh”.
-You guys know I don’t know names.-
This is dangerous.
Silent Howl:
Start with Fuck Face, Sweet Pea Blossom and Chrysanthemum Petal.
That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I follow instructions. Silent Howl suggests I upgrade party permissions so I’ve got co-captains who can handle trades and loot.
Silent Howl:
You’ll be able to check in your logs.
Was that supposed to be reassuring? Like I want to read that shiz. And I know they all know I don’t. So co-captains that can make Deposits, not Withdrawals, can’t edit my Logs or add entries. You assholes can make notes, not update my Logs. No adding new people, but you can kick some of these looky-loos. Fuck Face knows people from before he was cool, so he knows them best.
Sweet Pea Blossom and Chrysanthemum Petal:
We talk to people, too!
-You talk to kiss-asses who want special favors or are too scared to tell you to fuck off.- Inner thoughts out. -Dare you to tell me I’m wrong.-
Not sure why the girls, grown women who failed puberty, -- ow. One of them pushed me, so I go with it, and now I’m just lying on the ground, -- are getting Fuck Face to chastise me. Especially considering they were team “Fuck Fuck Face”, like, yesterday.
“Little Corpse!” one of the girls stomps her foot, fists on her hips.
-Oh! You gave Fuck Face a nickname. “Little” Corpse because you two are so old. Ow.-
I snort, trying not to laugh. They literally sat me back up so they could shove me back down. We’re on some petty shiz here at Inner Void Productions. So it’s true that pets resemble their owners.
They grab my legs, one girl on each leg, and slowly drag me a few feet, shuffling their little feet quickly, but not covering much distance. A principle punishment versus actually trying to deal damage.
-At least I don’t mean it,- I point out as they take turns collecting leaves to drop on me, “burying” me alive. -Lemme know when you guys are done with the peeper list so I can take us back out. I’m gonna go back to the Library and find out more about ghost servant maintenance.-
“Bank bugs are so greedy,” the girls sigh, “Little Corpse” bringing them sitting cushions.
-Don’t remember making those, but they look very nice.- I frown at the large cushions with their flower patterns with a built in wicker base to keep them off the ground. -Those look well crafted.-
“My spirit is broken, not weak. When haven’t I taken advantage of the Inner Void?” Little Corpse says, kneeling on the ground instead of getting his own cushion.
-You are very useful, and I do enjoy having someone to talk to who wasn’t raised as a cultivator. Good job on being you,- I give him a thumbs up.
“Little Corpse is quite useful, and we were wrong about him. Not all Broken Servants. Just this one,” the girls say, making very minute adjustments to the way their robes lay across the cushions.
-Excellent cop out,- I say, clapping idly. I’m supposed to be reading up on the corpse preservation and ghost servants things, but I can’t muster up the will to start.
“Eat something so you can focus,” Little Corpse snaps, entirely over my bullshit.
Oh. Right. Food on the inside doesn’t count. I give him a thumbs up and spawn a plate of dumplings next to me. I don’t bother using chopsticks or sitting up, using my hand to feel for the plate while looking down on myself from above. It’s reversed and I’m uncoordinated, but I’ll get there eventually.
“Lazy bank bug,” the girls wander over, grab one arm and one leg, both limbs on the same side, and then drag me over to their cushions. They go back for what is now a tray of dumplings, the plate was too much work for little reward, sit back down, and then use chopsticks to feed me.
-Thank you,- I say as I lie in the dirt chewing a mouthful of dumpling. They just dropped one right in.
Convenient.
Not sure if they’re taking turns purging the list or if that’s all Fuck Face.
“They’re feeding you and talking to Aunty about hunan foods you can make,” Fuck Face says, always responsive, always on the ball. A man of many talents. “Aunty needs us to head out. The monks are about to be attacked. One of the Disciples used a Ghost Whistle.”
The fuck is a “Ghost Whistle”?
I get up, not bothering to dust off, and then we’re all walking through the village square while the monks circle facing out.
-What --?-
[Soul Poison]
[-100 HP]
[30 -Resentment]
[-50 Karma]
[Ghost Pot: +120/-0]
[Resentment: +734530/-435339]
[Max Will: 9,579,451]
[HP: 9,579,375]
[Current Condensed Qi: 1831140/24408416]
[Current Qi: 1905495/957945100]
[Current Karma: 97633667/107275977]
Something burrows into my side. And it burns. Fucking Ghost weapons! I look down but don’t see anything. I get to watch as another quill flies from outside of my vision to bury itself in my side. Along with another and another. A neat little cluster.
[Soul Poison]
[-100 x5 HP]
[30 x5 -Resentment]
[-50 x5 Karma]
[Ghost Pot: +120/-0]
[Resentment: +734530/-435489]
[Max Will: 9,579,451]
[HP: 9,578,975]
[Current Condensed Qi: 1831140/24408354]
[Current Qi: 1905495/957945100]
[Current Karma: 97633417/107275977]
The girls scream, hair drifting up as they rise in the air, censers out, and then they swirl around each other, somehow alternating bracing and kicking off as they spiral towards a large storage warehouse on the edge of town. I’m being sniped?
Disciples aren’t supposed to fight each other my ass. Little Corpse manages to snag the back of my robes, tucking his hand into my collar, but I just drag him with me as I up and away to pickup this bullshit delivery order.
I get to see as someone looks out at them, peaces out, but leaves behind a marker. The girls don’t move through it, milling about the room as other people disappear and leave behind their own personal markers. I bank all of them, except the one the first guy noped out of, and they grab onto me as I dive at it.
I follow the glowing dots, annoyed as I wait for them to pulse in sequence to find out where this fucktard is going. I don’t know if they’ll all be there, but this guy’s not getting away.
“There’s a limit to its range, but it could track where my Flying Needles came from, so we should probably build up a network to harry it from multiple directions,” she says, marching into the room without a care, dressed like she’s cosplaying a ninja. Sleeveless tunic top, off-black scarf not matching her black top or loose black pants, her black shoes woven reed bottoms with black socks with her big toe split to flex in its own separate stocking.
[Soul Poison]
[-100 x4 HP]
[30 x5 -Resentment]
[-50 x4 Karma]
[Entomb Successful]
[-100 Qi]
[-10 Karma]
[Ghost Pot: +120/-0]
[Resentment: +734530/-435729]
[Max Will: 9,579,451]
[HP: 9,578,451]
[Current Condensed Qi: 1831140/24408251]
[Current Qi: 1905395/957945100]
[Current Karma: 97633007/107275977]
I coat the cave walls, -- I know this stone. We’re literally somewhere in the Sect grounds, -- in silk. The encased area is mine, and I set the rules. Welcome to my house.
-No one leaves until I stop hurting,- I say, golden meteors sprouting from behind me, wrapping the bastard, and bringing her to me.
I don’t bother doing the soul suck, I think the girls can snag her if she makes a break, and souls I collect don’t automatically go into my Pot unless they want to, which is bullshit. But I do start chewing on her face. The girls remove their chains, coming from behind me, Little Corpse standing up and easily looking over my head as I keep gnawing.
Da fuq is she made of? Why am I making no headway? I’m barely through her skin, I haven’t even started on her muscle, she can’t pull free with my fingers embedded in her skull, and she’s not putting up a fight, just screaming. Why. Can’t. I. Eat her?!
[Soul Poison]
[-100 x4 HP]
[30 x4 -Resentment]
[-50 x4 Karma]
[Ghost Pot: +120/-0]
[Resentment: +734530/-435969]
[Max Will: 9,579,451]
[HP: 9,578,975]
[Current Condensed Qi: 1831140/24408151]
[Current Qi: 1905395/957945100]
[Current Karma: 97632607/107275977]
The girls easily disarm anyone who pulls out a weapon until they all stop trying. They idly walk around the room, kicking over markers with upturned noses and clear expressions, a studied disinterest, before depositing them into my bank. Little Corpse pulls out one of the “flying needles”, stores it, but not in my bank, and then walks away.
I suppose he does need to learn how to cultivate Resentment if he’s going to be maintaining and recharging himself.
