Fool's Bond: A Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG, page 1
Fool’s Bond
Book 2 of System Apocalypse: Kismet
An Apocalyptic LitRPG
By
Tao Wong & David R Packer
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Fool’s Bond
Copyright © 2024 Tao Wong and David R. Packer. All Rights reserved.
Copyright © 2024 Cover Designer Sarah Anderson
Published by Starlit Publishing
PO Box 30035
High Park PO
Toronto, ON
M6P 3K0
Canada
www.starlitpublishing.com
Ebook ISBN: 9781778551666
Paperback ISBN: 9781778551765
Hardcover ISBN: 9781778551772
Books in the System Apocalypse Universe
Main Storyline
Life in the North
Redeemer of the Dead
The Cost of Survival
Cities in Chains
Coast on Fire
World Unbound
Stars Awoken
Rebel Star
Stars Asunder
Broken Council
Forbidden Zone
System Finale
System Apocalypse: Kismet
Fool’s Play
Fool’s Bond
Fool’s Last Dance
System Apocalypse – Relentless
A Fist Full of Credits
Dungeon World Drifters
Apocalypse Grit
System Apocalypse: Australia
Town Under
Flat Out
Bloody Oath
Anthologies & Short stories
System Apocalypse Short Story Anthology Volume 1
System Apocalypse Short Story Anthology Volume 2
Valentines in an Apocalypse
A New Script
Daily Jobs, Coffee and an Awfully Big Adventure
Adventures in Clothing
Questing for Titles
Blue Screens of Death
My Grandmother’s Tea Club
The Great Black Sea
Growing Up – Apocalypse Style
Interdimensional Window SHOPping
A Game of Koopash (Newsletter exclusive)
Lana’s story (Newsletter exclusive)
Debts and Dances (Newsletter exclusive)
A Tense Meeting (Newsletter exclusive)
Comic Series
The System Apocalypse Comics (7 Issues)
Table of Contents
What Happened Before - McBride
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Authors
About the Publisher
Glossary
What Happened Before - McBride
He hadn’t really gotten used to the nose. The tiny tickling of the hairs on the glass wasn’t exactly startling, but it still gave him a sense of unease.
Which was a little strange because this was the form he’d had for his entire life. It was just that the memory of the other life was still strong.
He wrapped his tail around his paws and sat down on the windowsill. A waft of heat rose from the baseboard heater under the window, and he couldn’t help but let out a little purr of satisfaction. Warmth was good.
Jackal and Fool were almost out of sight. In another minute, they’d turn down the next road and be at the little airport the village still maintained. It wasn’t much of an airport, but aircraft built in a System world could be a little less stringent on physics requirements. The McBride airport, if they got any notice of an incoming flyer, could expect anything from a flying carpet to a giant spacecraft.
No one really seemed to notice that for a remote, tiny village, just recently grown into a town, the airport was a smidge busier that one would expect.
Part of the reason for that was that the village had always been a transit point. Trains, autos, and planes had all passed through regularly enough, depending on the season, before the System. And with McBride being one of the rare nearly untouched surviving human locations, it wouldn’t seem too unusual that traffic wasn’t all that different than it had been before the System. After all, surviving in this world meant making strong connections, and now, more than ever, that meant exchanging goods and services. That was one reason people wouldn’t pay attention to the traffic.
DM was the other reason.
He flicked the tip of his tail in annoyance as he noted another flicker of drain on his mana, then he saw that the price for further discretion had ticked up again. He wasn’t too worried about that. It wasn’t even a drop in the bucket of the limited resources he could access in this form. The trend was upward though. And at a certain threshold, the Weaver’s minions were likely to take note of that.
DM wasn’t ready to deal with that nonsense. Not yet.
Fool and his companion weren’t ready yet. The puzzle pieces hadn’t fallen into place for them, but they would soon. DM needed them to be at least Advanced class before the next phase could even start. They were pretty close. They’d been working hard since their return from the Valemount mission, but they were still on the cusp of their next Level. Still, they should make it on this one.
Which, he reflected, should be just about the right time.
And he was certainly ready to move on. It had been pleasant being “just a cat” for Alex, but it was time for change.
The skin was feeling itchy. He’d leave this shell behind though. Alex wouldn’t see any difference. She’d still have a quirky and cute little black cat. There wouldn’t be any trace of him left in it for anyone to find though.
For a moment, he thought about tagging along with Fool and Jackal. He wouldn’t even need a new form—he could replicate this one as well as any others. If he did, he’d be able to make sure that things worked the way he planned them to. That critical meeting had to take place. But he had to trust Fool to make the connection, and if he had to trust him to do that, then he might as well trust them to do all the rest.
This was one thing he’d be best off not meddling in, even if it went against his nature. This was a nurture thing. If he wanted his little kitten to grow up, then he had to trust them to handle their own business for the most part. Even if it meant they collected a few scars along the way.
It was also getting harder and harder to disguise his influence on the Foundation’s Machine. They were already wondering about how some of the results they were seeing came about, and it would be best if he was gone before they put two and two together on that front.
He would miss having access to that marvelous device. Being able to see potential and possibility dance with the growth and innate abilities of humans all over the planet? That was close to the powers some of his fellows had, and it was a pleasure to have even an echo of that ability for a time. He’d made good use of it while he’d had the chance, and that was why he knew that Fool and Jackal were not only off on a very important mission for the Foundation’s goals but for his goals as well. And for the world too. They’d be fine.
And really, the best thing he could do was head south and set up shop for the next stage. Timing was getting tricky, and he wanted to stay at least ten steps ahead of the Weaver. Twenty, if he could manage it.
Chapter One
The dampness filled the air with the scent of cedar. It didn’t quite cover the smell of rot, but it helped. Not enough though.
Jackal had noted the strong, pleasant, woody smell as they’d made their way closer to the entrance of the dungeon. The rain had been falling heavily all day, its constant drum adding a background rhythm to their hike. The dungeon was on the outskirts of the town of Prince George.
Before the System, the dungeon had been a pulp and sawmill. They’d gotten solid instructions on how to traverse the dungeon: Start in the former Administration Center, which would open access to the pulp mill, and clearing that out would open access to the Sawmill. It was effectively a three-level dungeon, with the hazards growing at each level. The Prince George adventure
It was a good dungeon for a city. The first level was challenging enough that no one had soloed it yet, but teams of low-Level Basic classes could complete it. Mid Levels could make it through the second level. The last level hadn’t been completed by anyone yet, but the first few monsters had been tough, even for the highest-Level Basic classers in town. A couple of Advanced classers had made it through the first part of the last level but had never been heard from again.
Jackal smelled the rot again, cutting through the otherwise pleasant cedar smell. The System had transformed the inside of the administration building, according to the locals, but the outside looked the same. A long and quite pretty boardwalk passed over some neatly trimmed wide grass fields to a building that looked sort of like a school or small-town hospital, low and a bit spread out. The rain and cool spring air had resulted in a mist all around the grounds, and instead of being spooky, it had looked almost romantic.
That had been a lie.
It jumped on him from somewhere above. Probably intended to surprise him. Whether that might have worked had been made moot by the horrible burbling scream it had let out while leaping at him.
Jackal cut a backhand cut without even really thinking about it, but the face of his attacker froze in his vision. That happened sometimes. In the middle of a fight, like a freeze-frame image. It didn’t stop or slow him down, but it was like a portion of his subconscious was chewing on something it saw and was reluctant to let go.
Jackal hated that. Hated it because he knew he’d be seeing that face in his mind’s eye, probably just as he was falling asleep.
Wide-set red eyes and a little pug nose almost between them. Long, bat-like ears flopping out to the side…an incongruous silver loop earring hanging from the left one. Impossibly wide mouth open in a scream, with hundreds of small, needle-like teeth filling it.
It had been wearing a tattered little jacket, ragged with patches all over. Big black boots went right up to its knees, sharp hobs poking out from the soles. And a big, meaty cleaver, that it had been swinging at Jackal’s head.
The image in his mind was frozen just after his sword cut cleanly through the goblin. There wasn’t even any blood yet, just the smallest hint of recognition in the goblin’s eyes that something horrible and permanent and irrevocable had happened to it.
All Jackal had felt as he bisected the creature was a faint pop that traveled down his arm from the sword. Just a minor wobble, a tiny reverberation that caused a subtle but pleasant ting sound, if anyone was listening.
He didn’t even really feel the impact of the two halves of the body when they hit him less than a second later.
Jackal realized he’d let himself drift and pulled himself back into the moment. He took a quick glance around the space to see if he’d missed anything.
They were in a large, open space. The admin building featured a beautifully designed atrium, all wooden beams and planks and floor-to-ceiling windows, interspersed with criss-crossing, green-painted stairs leading from floor to floor, office to office. All of that was still intact but expanded.
And filled with goblins.
Fool was ahead of Jackal, swinging his warhammer with both hands at a pair of what looked like Gremlins. Or possibly goblins covered head to toe in fur. Jackal couldn’t quite tell, but Fool seemed to be handling things fine. A quick glance behind him confirmed that no one had sneaked behind Jackal.
The reception area was still spattered with the lavender blood of the Sirens they’d had to fight past, but none of those bodies were even twitching at this point.
Ahead of him, the Mousekin were moving in tight formations.
Jackal grunted in appreciation of their tactics. The Mousekin looked beyond adorable, but you couldn’t argue with their skills. They were a compact military patrol unit composed of two squads made up of two four-mouse teams each. Each team had a mage, two melee fighters, and ranged weapon specialist, with an additional healer for each squad. They’d clearly been trained to a high degree and moved with precision, laying down a river of damage as they engaged the enemy.
It was even more impressive because they were smaller than the goblins. Each Mousekin was just over a foot high, and the goblins doubled that. If the Mousekin patrol didn’t punch way above its weight class, they’d have been swarmed under the goblins in no time. Instead, they were cutting through the goblins about as easily as Jackal was.
That accounted for everyone. Except the Mousekin leader, Roger. Where was Roger?
Jackal looked all over the room but couldn’t see him or his two companions, Eric and Olivia. Where the hell had they gotten to?
A moment later, Jackal figured it out. Another goblin came flying out from the floor above… and plummeted straight down. Jackal saw the wounds on its body. Neat holes from the Mousekin firearms, and a deep stab wound that had turned into a cut, opening the body up to show the odd green insides. Jackal knew what had caused that wound.
“Fool,” he said, “they’ve gotten ahead of us. I’m going to catch up.”
He didn’t say any more than that, trusting his friend to get the context.
Fool’s response was a string of curses as another goblin sneaked in behind him and bit him on the ankle. Jackal managed not to laugh. Then he activated his [Potoooooooo1] and [Lead Zeppelin2] Skills and burst up across the room and up the nearest stairs.
His smile faded as soon as he got to the next landing. The sign on the floor just said “Marketing.”
The Dungeon Master had a low sense of humor and had been a former employee of the mill. As a result, he’d built up the city dungeon from his vision of what the worst of the company was. This was the floor all the goblins were coming from. And there were more of them up here.
A lot more.
Individually, or even in small groups, the goblins were no threat to Jackal at all. But a lot of them were suddenly charging at him.
He saw other creatures mixed in with them as well—the ones he’d originally taken to be fur-covered goblins. They now seemed to be a creature of roughly the same size, but with a sturdier build. They looked just like Gremlins from the movie his parents had made him watch. The one that had given him so many nightmares when he was a kid.
A mixed horde of them started for Jackal, but he had a moment to take in the whole situation. He was on the landing of the second floor, which was composed of a walkway going all around the atrium. The side he was facing held a row of offices going far back into the building, judging from what he could see through the dirty glass windows that lined the walkway. There were no more stairs going up, so the entrance to the next floor up had to be somewhere in those offices.
Since he couldn’t see Roger or his two friends anywhere, they were either dead and piled under a mound of goblins, or they’d pushed on to the next level.
No point in assuming the worst. If it was true, they were screwed, and the mission was shot. So, he had to assume that Roger had somehow pushed through the hordes and had moved on to the next level.
Judging from the larger mess of creatures he could see at the far end of the offices, that was what had happened.
Jackal saw a commotion there, and some of that seemed to be turning back toward him.
Perfect.
He activated his [Blade Walking3] Skill, and he felt the corners of his grin touching his eyes. It was a Skill tailor made for this kind of environment, letting him almost literally walk across the incoming blades of massed attackers, avoiding most damage and letting him attack at will.
It was useful when facing small groups of higher-Level monsters, letting him gain a significant edge on them when they expected to have the upper hand by dint of numbers.
Against a horde of the lowest-Level monsters?
Jackal danced through them with almost no resistance. He could feel their blades slashing and rising up to him, and his spirit flared up, the grin splitting his face. This was what he lived for. He let himself go, holding nothing back, spinning and chopping and stabbing in a timeless flow, leaving a river of blood behind him.
Even with his Skill, he was taking damage. He saw his health ticking down, along with his mana, but wasn’t that what they were for? Coin to be spent in service of living his life as it was meant to be.
For a moment, he cut through all of his attackers. The combat paused, and he found himself on the floor again, surrounded by a screaming mass. He heard the faint plip, plip of blood dripping off his twin swords. No breathing or other sounds. It was as though the entire room had frozen in time. The gleaming teeth of the creatures were all around him, dripping with a viscous saliva, twisted grins of fear and hate.
