Cities in Chains (The System Apocalypse #4)

The world has changed. Over a year ago, a series of blue boxes popped into existence, notifying humanity that we’d joined the Galactic Council. Along with that, we inherited the System—a reality-bending setup that appeared to us as a blaze of blue boxes—and it gave us strength, endurance, Skills, and healing beyond human norms. The new System was more akin to a video game, with magical spells and Skills, but dying was still very real.
The world has changed. I get that.
But that still doesn’t explain the evolved tiger trying to eat my face.
“This is a tiger, right? And we’re what? A good hundred kilometers south of the Yukon?” I say, holding the monster around its neck with one hand as it attempts to escape and claw me. The occasional scratch is painful and annoying but not at all life-threatening.
“Just hold him still a little longer,” Lana says, laying a slab of steak a short distance from me. The buxom redhead is clad in Adventurer chic—a skin-tight armored jumpsuit with a weapon vest, along with the requisite weapons, and straps criss-crossing her toned frame. “And yes, it’s a tiger.”
“What? My Status information not good enough for you?” Ali, my three-foot Spirit companion says as he floats cross-legged next to me. He might look Middle Eastern, but Ali’s got as much relation to them as I do an amoeba. Since there’s no real threat right now, Ali’s choosing to be visible.
I glance again at the status information hovering over the tiger.

Evolved Tiger (Level 27)
HP: 358/478
MP: 275/349
Condition: Enraged

Of course, the tiger isn’t willing to just be held in the air without a struggle. With a flick of his tail, the tiger glows, calling forth its Skill—Sharp Claws—again. Okay, Sharp Claws is what I’ve named it since it’s not as if I have access to the tiger’s Skill menu. Twisting around, its legs scrabbling against the ground, it tears into me. Wounds that have been clawed open and healed are widened under its newly empowered attacks. Dealing with the damn cat just because Lana demanded we herd it here once Ali picked it up is annoying.
“Owww! You ready yet, Lana?”
“Done. Don’t hurt it!” Lana calls.
I roll my eyes and toss the kitty cat toward Lana. The animal twists and lands with grace, bunching its legs and snarling at me. Before it can lunge, Lana’s pets ring it while the redhead shifts to put herself directly in front of the animal. Considering the pair of pony-sized huskies are nearly the same size as the evolved tiger, it’s not as unfair a fight as you’d think. And of course, a single look from the tiger is enough to make Anna erupt with flames, fire dancing along her lean, foxy body. Elsa, Lana’s turtle, is no longer with us, having been gifted to a child as a pet due to its inability to physically keep up with us. Says something about the world we live in that a fire-breathing pet turtle is considered an appropriate gift by a tear-filled mom.
“Now there, boy, calm down. We’ve got food for you…” Lana says to the tiger, holding out the piece of meat. Her voice is low, soft, soothing, and almost seductive.
I turn away from Lana and her weird taming session, asking the question that has been on my mind. “So how does a tiger end up so far north? I mean, sure, if it was a monster, it could have spawned here. But a tiger?”
“Someone’s illegal pet?” Ingrid says. The dark-haired First Nation woman is seated on the roof of the truck that she’s pulled over to the side of the road, taking in the sun while she waits for Lana to finish. Who would have known that the woman is a sun-worshipper, being the Assassin/Thief/something sneaky Class that she is?
“A zoo?” Mikito says. The tiny Japanese lady dangles her feet off the edge of the mecha she rides. Mikito’s personal assault vehicle is somewhat different than Sabre, being both lighter and more agile with significantly less armor. Also cheaper. I’m just glad that the System-bought language pack Mikito got for English gave her a slight Japanese accent, rather than something like Australian or Irish. It’s very, very strange to look at a giant, green, tusked alien and listen to him talk in a strong Australian accent.
“Makes sense.” I glance at where Lana is wrestling with the tiger. I never saw her tame Anna, so I have no clue if fighting is supposed to be part of the entire taming process. “You think this is going to take long?”
I receive shrugs in return, so I pull out a bar of chocolate to snack on. A few moments later, I’m handing out bars to the ladies. One nice thing about the System, there’s no more concern about weight loss. In fact, most of the time, we work hard to eat enough calories to handle the stress we put our bodies through. Admittedly, a significant portion of our energy needs are supplied by Mana, that weird all-encompassing thing that makes our spells and Skills work, but we still need to eat. Somewhere out there, I bet there’s some Personal Trainer Class who has worked out the exact calorie and Mana requirements to make the most efficient use of our Level-ups and everyday skills. I just know it.
“Is she going to be okay?” Sam asks from the driver seat of his truck. He’s one of our more recent additions to the retinue since we left Whitehorse.
Behind him, on the flatbed, a group of hunters are carefully watching the surroundings, taking care to not just look around but up as well. In the distance, another hunter is on his way back on Ingrid’s borrowed hover bike.
I could tell them not to bother—Ali’s ability as my Spirit Companion allows him to scan data from the System directly, and my own Skill – Greater Detection -is picking up no major threats currently. But I don’t tell them that for a few reasons. Firstly, constant alertness is a good trait to train. Secondly, what Ali and I consider a significant threat is rather different than these guys. And thirdly, we won’t always be with them.
“Oh, she’ll be fine,” Ingrid says, yawning slightly. “Lana’s got a base heal spell she can toss on if things get hairy.”
“Which she’s using on the tiger,” Sam says incredulously, stepping out of the truck. His salt-and-pepper hair and beard suit the man, as does the worn leather coat and easy air of command. Helps when you top six feet. Maybe I’m still a little jealous of people that tall, even if I’m no shortie anymore, not since the System. Whatever he was before the System, Sam was certainly in a post of authority.
My eyes sweep over the convoy of refugees we’ve picked up, most of them whispering furtively as they watch Lana put on her one-woman taming show. The convoy’s a weird mixture of vehicles, most from the early part of the twentieth century since they don’t need the electronics that were inherent in newer vehicles. There are a few exceptions—a Lamborghini that’s been designated as a “personal vehicle” via a Skill, and the minivan that its Mechanic owner modified stand out. Most modern vehicles don’t work well with their electronics fried by the Mana that surrounds us all.
“Probably trying to mollify it,” I say, answering Sam’s unspoken question. “We might be here for a while. Might as well tell them to get out, stretch their legs and have lunch.”
Sam’s the de facto leader of the refugees, being one of the few willing to actually talk to us. I admit, walking in covered in the blood and guts of the monsters that had been laying siege to their town might have something to do with their wariness. I kind of get the feeling the refugees consider us as much a group of monsters as the ones made by the System. Still, they’re with us because staying in their various small towns was a death sentence.
“You…” Sam starts to say but stops as Mikito chuckles softly. After a moment, Sam decides to do what I say, calling out orders to the group.
The hunters drop out of the flatbed and step out of the other vehicles, spreading out to cover both sides of the road while we wait.
“Nice day for a picnic,” Ingrid says, her eyes closed. “Want me to pull some more monsters for them?”
“Sam asked us to stop doing that.” I walk to the edge of the road and dump out some camping supplies, including a camping table I appropriated recently. Even as I begin getting lunch going, I can hear the snarls, growls, and occasional yips of pain coming from Lana’s scuffle. “Something about scaring the kids.”
“Wimps,” Ingrid drawls.
Mikito joins me, helping with prep and getting more than a few envious glances. Since my Skill Altered Space basically gives me an extra dimensional space I can store anything I want in, I have a lot more leeway than most people in what I can drag around. Everyone else has to contend with good old-fashioned luggage or the System inventory option, and the System inventory only works for System-registered items. Which, for the refugees who have never visited a Shop, is nothing.
“Think we’ll make it to Fort Nelson soon?” Mikito asks Ali.
“We’re about a hundred kilometers out,” Ali says. “An hour’s drive if the roads were good. About three with the state they’re in now—if you guys stop babying the children. And if we don’t find anyone else holed up.”
“They need the experience,” Mikito points out, retreading the old argument. “We’ll be leaving them in Fort Nelson after this anyway.”
“If it’s still in one piece,” I add, grimacing at that thought.
We know, thanks to Ali, that Fort Nelson has a Shop, so the chances of there being no survivors is low. Any location with a Shop has a distinct advantage. The ability to purchase System-registered weapons, Skills, and trade loot in for Credits makes a huge difference. The fact that the Shop connection is still present after the grace period of a year means that someone has spent sufficient Credits for the link to be kept up. Not all the locations that had a Shop managed to keep theirs after the first year ended. Based on all this, the town and some of its inhabitants should still be there.
Theoretically. It is an apocalypse after all.
“Hey, watch the meat!” Ingrid calls out.
I quickly flip the steak, realizing I’d begun to overcook it, lost in my thoughts as I was. Right. Time to focus on the important things. Like lunch.

Release Date: June 1, 2018

Pages: 344

Genre: LitRPG Sci-Fi

eBook ISBN: 9781775380917

Language: English

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