Chapter 33 – Preparation

“Well, look what the prowler dragged in. Captain Chatfield, how the hell are you?”

A middle-aged man wearing a flat cap and circular glasses stepped up to meet them at the entrance to the dungeon. He wore an eclectic mix of clothing and a wide smile, offering his hand to Chatfield the moment they came in range.

Chatfield clasped his hand and pulled the man into a half embrace. “Cooper, you mad bastard. What short straw did you pick to end up in this dump?” He laughed genuinely as he stood back from Cooper and looked at him in confusion. “I was going to try to sweet-talk whoever was stationed here to get a few passes for the day, but I can see we’re going to have to find somewhere else…”

Cooper snorted and withdrew a few black cards from his breast pocket. “Do you want to skip the registration too? Guessing this one is off the books?”

Chatfield grinned as he turned to look at Sal appraisingly, giving the question a bit of thought.

“Actually, register this guy. Wouldn’t be any harm to get him some reputation with the bureau. You can leave us off the record, though. I don’t want them asking questions about why I’m dungeon diving on my weekend off.”

With a flourish, the black cards in Cooper’s hand vanished and were replaced by a singular white card.

“Salvatore Argento? Anything to Petro?”

Cooper’s question was instantaneous, and Sal was surprised that he didn’t notice the Analysis ability activating on himself. With the proximity to the dungeon and the looming dread of facing demons at any moment, Sal was in a dumbfounded state and couldn’t so much as mutter out the answer.

Cooper understood immediately and his smile faded ever so slightly. “Ah, I think I get it. Don’t face that many demons in an auction house, do you?” His laugh would have been infectious under any other circumstances, but Sal was practically numb to everything around him. “Well, let’s get you registered. Give me a second, and I’ll have this back to you in no time.”

Cooper turned back to his makeshift stand at the edge of the entrance and tapped on a console. He placed the white card into a rectangular recess that fit it perfectly. True to his word, the process took a few moments before the card popped up from the machine, with Cooper catching it in mid-air before it had a chance to land.

“Okay, a few ground rules that I’m sure Chatfield has already told you. You’re a first-year, which isn’t strictly forbidden, but highly advised against. We typically require Supports to be accompanied by at least an Offense and Defense class, but we’ll make the exception in this case. Just because you have a pass for this dungeon, don’t attempt it without a team of capable individuals. We have Trainee Heroes who will happily guide you through the dungeon as it helps them earn credentials for guild officer exams.”

Cooper was suddenly all business and his focus was entirely on Sal. “Don’t overextend yourself in there. It is not the place to take foolish risks. We had a reset last week, so there should only be leechers in there. They cling to the ceiling and won’t attack until you’re in range. If you’re in doubt or start to panic, cover your face with your arms, and your equipment will take care of the rest. We typically advise students to wear defensive equipment at Uncommon grade, but you’re kitted out in Epic grade so I doubt you’ll have any issues. Don’t be complacent and listen to the captain. He’s run more dungeons than you’ve had hot meals. Understood?”

Sal nodded solemnly, and Cooper raised an eyebrow.

With a turn to Chatfield, he gestured at Sal with his thumb. “Is this a punishment or something? He doesn’t seem to be all there.”

Before Chatfield could respond, Upgrade stepped forward and placed a hand on Sal’s shoulder.

“He’s never even seen a demon before. He’ll be fine when we get in there and he gets a feel for it.”

Cooper nodded with a knowing smile. He presented the card to Sal, who pocketed it without giving it more than a passing glance.

Chatfield cleared his throat and took a step forward. “Really appreciate your help, man. Drinks are on me next time we’re out.”

Cooper chuckled as he gestured to the entrance of the dungeon. “Pick up some good shit while you’re in there and we’ll call it even. The rookies haven’t a clue how to mine materials and the yields are actually painful. Something tells me that having two Crafters on your team will get me some good results.”

Chatfield laughed and glanced over at Upgrade. “I’m not so sure about that today—you might be better off taking the drinks from me. Think this one is going to be an in-and-out job.”

“Suit yourselves. Do you want to take a pack with you just to be on the safe side? No charge, obviously.” Cooper gestured toward a collection of backpacks stored beside his stand. “Could be worth a few extra reputation points, depending on the cut. You’d be helping me out, too.”

His wide smile broke Chatfield’s resolve as the captain lifted two of the packs and slung them over his shoulder.

“No promises, but we’ll try to pick up a few ores while we’re in there. Good enough?”

Cooper laughed as he took a step back toward his stand. “More than enough. I’ll push out the next couple of bookings, so feel free to take your time in there.”

With that said, Chatfield and Upgrade led the way, with Sal walking behind them. Sal turned to see Cooper leaning against the edge of the table, watching them depart. When they made eye contact, the eccentric man just gave him a wink before turning back to his console.

The entrance to the subway was surrounded by a pale-blue barrier, not unlike the one generated by Hannah’s gauntlets. At the top of the steps that led down into the darkness, there was a structured arch that allowed people to enter and exit the area safely.

At their approach, the barrier within the arch shimmered and dissipated, allowing them passage into the dungeon. Sal was barely a step through it when the barrier snapped back into place behind his back, cutting him off from the rest of the world and leaving him trapped in a pocket of space with the dungeon. His heartbeat thundered as he looked around him in a panic. It was the exact same feeling as when he had stepped into the enclosed cage with Dominic.

Taking a few punches was different than fighting demons, and Sal wanted nothing to do with it. His breathing became labored and his vision started to blur. A hand clasped around his own. He turned to see Upgrade looking at him with concern on her face.

“Trust me, Sal. You’re going to be fine.”

Upgrade led Sal down the steps, still holding his hand, and he became self-conscious of just how clammy his skin was becoming. It was the silliest thought to cross his mind, and he expected Chatfield to judge him harshly for being so terrified of something he faced daily.

What sort of Hero trembled outside of a beginner dungeon? That’s probably what they were thinking. Sal jumped to every conclusion and tried to push the thoughts to one side. He wished desperately that he could numb the dread in his heart. Upgrade wouldn’t let him take the monocle with him, and it was the only thing that would have kept him sane in this scenario. Sal wondered what the point was of making equipment if he wasn’t allowed to use it.

“Okay, we’re here. Equip your visor and revolver, but leave the case here at the entrance. It should be safe enough, but we can get another one if it gets destroyed.” Chatfield stretched his body in a series of movements.

Sal didn’t know how to react to seeing him actively preparing for a fight. Wasn’t it supposed to be an easy dungeon? Why would he need to start stretching? The panic started to rise again in Sal’s chest.

Upgrade released her grip on his hand and touched his shoulder. “If you want to feel safer, you can activate your armor like you did in the tournament. Leechers won’t be able to break through it, even if there were a dozen of them focusing on you for an hour. You’ll understand once you track them with your visor.”

Upgrade stepped away from Sal and activated her own suit of armor with a smile. “Anything that gets too close to you that you’re not ready for…” She raised her right arm, which had transformed into a hand cannon. “I’ll take care of it.”

Chatfield laughed from ahead of them, which broke the tension considerably. His amusement was enough to make Sal think that he was overreacting, which was oddly calming. Chatfield clicked his fingers, and his appearance changed into a replica of Upgrade’s armor. It was fitted for Chatfield’s body and wasn’t nearly as flattering, but still looked quite impressive.

Where Upgrade’s armor looked like a symbiotic material had been painted onto her skin, Chatfield’s was more like a collection of plate metal that bent with his movements. There was a slight purplish hue that wasn’t reflected in Upgrade’s suit, which Sal guessed was a side effect of his Concept ability.

When Chatfield turned around to face them, he stretched his left arm across his collar bone and used his right arm to pull it closer to his right shoulder. A slight wince of pain crossed his face before he shook his arm loose and repeated the action on the other side.

“Get the visor on and we can get started. Don’t get trigger-happy with the gun, either. Keep it aimed at the ground and have your trigger finger resting against the side of the gun. We don’t want you getting spooked and accidentally causing havoc.”

Sal crouched to one knee and flipped open the case. He hated every moment of this but resolved himself that the sooner he got on with it, the sooner it would be over.

No matter how many times he told himself that they were going to protect him and that he’d be fine, he was struck with the mental image of Sinclair tearing into the body of students as a prowler. The voider that tried to flank the cameraman during the dungeon raid a few weeks ago was also firmly etched into his brain. Sal had only seen the leechers in the vision that Barry had created, and even then, it had killed him easily.

When the visor clipped onto the side of his face, Sal wished more than anything that it had a calming function like the monocle. His hand shook as he tried uselessly to pick up the bullet cartridges, but they kept slipping between his fingers.

Only an hour ago, he had been standing at the workbench, creating them. Now, he was going to be firing them at real-life demons. He chuckled humorlessly as he firmly grasped the cartridges in his left hand, leaving the empty case on the ground. His visor quickly scanned the cartridge, as though it was bored and looking for something to do.

It was a nifty mechanism that allowed him to reload all six chambers of the revolver at the same time. The base of the cartridge was made with an external core that infused each bullet with a set amount of essence, allowing the revolver to fire a specific round of infused essence with each shot. They were valuable materials, so he wanted to use them like batteries rather than projectiles.

“You ready?”

Chatfield’s question came again, breaking Sal out of his momentary reverie. Sal reluctantly turned around to face him and was rendered speechless by the visor fulfilling its purpose. Dots populated the entire stretch of subway tunnel in front of him. Distances and threat assessments were calculated, as well as a whole different set of color-coded nodes that indicated resources in the area.

Sal gaped in shock as his eye focused on each red node. Every time he focused on a particular one, he was given a full breakdown of the targeted leecher, its location, and how to best exploit its weakness. With a quick glance to ensure that he held the revolver directly, Sal’s right eye widened as the link between the visor and revolver was established.

Upgrade stepped into view beside him with a gentle smile on her face.

“I think he’s ready.”