Vaewolf System

Answering Calls and the Light Ray

Red globules seemingly manifesting from nowhere gathered before his palm, solidifying and crystalizing, forming a spike of scarlet crystal.

An Ironblood Spike.

With a flick of Miles’s hand, the spike launched forward.

Boom!

The spike barely penetrated through the concrete, before shattering in an explosion of red shards.

[-2 BP]

The skill had used up blood points, but they were replenished instantly, reducing from Ripae Sanguine.

[Total BP remaining: 10 (+4 in Blood Bank)]

Ignoring the notifications, Miles fell into thought. After thinking about activating the skill, he hadn't had to do anything, besides actually targeting the spike. Everything just... happened by itself.

Walking forwards, he examined the wall for damage.

The spike had penetrated the concrete, about a couple inches in before shattering from the force of the collision.

Considering the safe house had been reinforced against most attacks, this wasn’t too bad.

The Ironblood spike was about as penetrative as an enhanced bullet, but quite a bit more damaging. The explosion of blood shards was sure to do additional damage as well.

Sure, it wouldn’t shatter when the spike stabbed through someone, but it would still be useful in the case he missed.

The only downside Miles could see was that it took a second or so to prepare the blood spike. But he should be able to manage.

There were a few other things Miles wished to experiment with, but…

Suddenly, the Lykaon ring sputtered to life.

Miles couldn’t help but be surprised.

He had almost forgotten about the ring, as most of its capabilities were lost when out of the Lykaon grounds. Outside, it wouldn’t be anything beyond a glorified communication device, and it appeared this was indeed the purpose.

A familiar mechanical voice began to speak out.

“INCOMING CALL FROM DESIGNATION CHAUFFEUR #1. DO YOU WISH TO ANSWER?”

‘Irina? Why is she calling-- Ah. Right. Old Zhan.’

Miles brought the ring closer to his mouth and answered, “Yes.”

*Bzzt*

With some minor static, the call connected.

“Hey Rina what’s up? Miss me?”

Irina made a strange noise, something in between a laugh and a snort, “You wish, boss, you wish.

Zhan Shen called. Said you guys needed a ride. Discrete, and fast.”

Having already figured this out, Miles simply asked, “Let me guess, old Zhan didn’t send you the location again. And you need me to?”

He could almost hear the smirk in her voice, “Of course, just as usual. Besides, why else would I call you?”

Miles’s grin grew wider, “Like I said, cause you missed me?”

This time the snort was loud and clear, “Whatever Boss. Just send me the location.”

Shaking his head, Miles tapped the ring a few times.

Instantly, the mechanical voice spoke out again.

“LOCATION TRANSFER TO DESIGNATION CHAUFFEUR #1 VIA SATELLITE: LYKAON 4. DO YOU CONFIRM?”

With another tap, he did. But Miles couldn’t stop a small frown from appearing, for being forced to use the lesser satellites, while the better ones were under someone else's control.

“LOCATION TRANSFERRED.”

Miles forced a grin through his frown, “How long, Rina? Assuming you were home, about 20 minutes?

Irina answered with a small laugh, “Nah, even orcs can’t make me stay cooped up at my dingy apartment. But I am in the inner city, so… make it 5.”

Miles couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. The distance from the inner city to the outer city alone was around 50 km. And even that was if he considered a straight line, not to mention the fact that he hadn’t even considered the distance from the inner city wall to his current location.

But, this was Irina he was talking about. If she said it would only take five minutes, it would take five minutes.

So with an even wider grin, he challenged, “Make it three, and you’ve got yourself a new engine.”

The reply was instantaneous, “Deal! Get ready to lose your money, boss.”

And Irina cut off.

Miles shook his head, still grinning.

He would most probably lose, but it could be considered an investment of sorts. If Irina could be faster, that was better for him.

Irina Ivankov was one of the private chauffeurs under his employ, but definitely his personal favorite. She was always prepared, never late, and damn was she a good driver. Thus he had her designated as #1, not that he’d ever tell her.

Miles liked to consider them friends, she even acted as such, but… he knew the gap between an employer and employee was not one that could be bridged so easily.

Breaking him out of his thoughts, the Lykaon ring sputtered to life once more.

“INCOMING CALL FROM DESIGNATION OLD ZHAN. DO YOU WISH TO ANSWER?”

“Yes,” he answered.

The call connected, but before Miles could speak, the other side did.

“Master Miles, I’m at the front entrance. I doubt Irina can fit her car through the back. So you’ll have to make your way over here.”

He answered with a smile, “Will do, Old Zhan, will do.”

As the call disconnected, Miles walked over to the steel door and grabbed the handle.

He could’ve gone from the side, the same path he had seen Zhan Shen use, but Miles wished to observe the extent of damage the fake Fae bomb had done, before he left.

Apparently, it wasn’t little.

With an audible c***k, the handle broke off into his hand.

Crash!

And the steel door slowly fell over, it’s hinges shattered, crashing onto the ground in a cloud of dust and ash.

Burnt, smoldering air washed over him, the faint smell of ozone mixed in.

‘Damn! For a fake fae bomb, the damage done isn’t half bad. I wonder where the thieves got it from...’

Dropping the handle, he walked into the safehouse, making his way to the empty area where they had fought.

Miles could see nothing but black.

The concrete had been burnt and scorched, pitch black instead of the regular grey. The pillars and the walls still remained steady but were obviously weakened. Another two or three fake bombs would probably bring down the building.

This was far more damage than what could be expected from peak Epsilon strength!

He was glad Zhan Shen had retreated. If they had believed it was fake and faced the bomb head-on, while the old butler could probably survive, it would not have been unscathed.

It was probably for the best that he, the one with Conditional Undeath, was the one who got a couple of broken bones.

More intrigued than ever about the fake fae bomb, Miles continued onwards, making it to the main entrance, and stepped outside.

As expected, Zhan Shen was there, carrying two familiar bodies over a single shoulder.

He turned around at Miles’s arrival, “I brought the paper tiger and his friend. They're damned heavy though,” ending with an annoyed scowl.

Miles smiled, “I had no doubt you would. But old Zhan, why didn’t you send Irina our location?”

Just as he said this, his ears perked up. He heard something.

A familiar hum, growing closer extremely fast. Miles had heard it before, and it only took a second to realize that it was Irina, or rather the Light Ray.

Meanwhile, the elderly butler frowned, “I did! Damn it! I was sure I did it right this time.”

He carefully balanced the bodies over the shoulder, and with his free hand flipped over his left collar, revealing a silver pin on his suit, a single carved wing glinting in the light.

This silver wing was old Zhan’s equivalent to Miles’s ring. While it couldn’t do everything his ring could, it came pretty close.

Miles wasn’t sure exactly what the pin meant, but Zhan Shen had insisted it be the focus for his connection to the Lykaon network.

The old butler pointed to a corner of the wing, “See, I pressed over here. That sends the location, right?”

Miles raised an amused eyebrow, “Old Zhan, that takes a p--”

The humming grew louder, along with the sound of crushing gravel. It was close enough now that even old Zhan could hear it.

Whumpf!

A strange sound, one of a punch hitting a pillow rang out, as a car appeared before them in a cloud of swirling dust.

The car was a clean white, almost a light in the darkness of the night, remaining unblemished and pure despite the dust floating around it. It had a solid build, obviously capable of dealing, as well as taking punishment, and still somehow remaining sleek and aerodynamic.

The reinforced metal shone and glinted in the moonlight, giving it an almost ethereal glow.

But the most unique was its wheels, or rather what was there instead.

Most vehicles of the world today were not too different to those of old, but if one could afford it, it didn’t have to be.

This white car was floating, half a dozen inches above the ground, maintaining its lift by four thrusters constantly releasing blue flames..

This was the Light Ray, Irina’s custom vehicle, modded and enhanced almost to the very limit of current technology, even some Fae parts, making it one of the fastest vehicles in the city. Her generous sponsor being none other than Miles.

The window lowered, and Irina poked her head out.

She was a rather beautiful woman, her short blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, donning black leather clothes. Miles assumed she was at least 30 years old, but she had always been cagey about her age and he had wisely refrained from forcing it.

Irina showed off an old stopwatch, an actual mechanical one, with a grin, “2 minutes and 42 seconds. You owe me an engine.'

She frowned, “By the way boss, you look kind of pale. You okay?”

‘Pale?’

He checked himself in the window of the car, and it was true. He did look a bit pale.

Perhaps a side-effect of being Kindred?

He simply shrugged, “You'll get whatever engine you wish, Rina. You know I keep my word. And I’m fine. Just a bit tired, I suppose.”

Irina nodded apparently in relief, but immediately she grinned. She brought out something that looked like a black square-shaped glass piece, a mobile device.

It was displaying the face of a familiar old man, Zhan Shen, out of focus and quite blurry. But not enough to make it unrecognizable.

Honestly, it made the elderly butler look rather silly.

Turning to Zhan Shen she spoke with a cheeky grin, “Thanks for the flattering pic, Butler Zhan. I’ll treasure it forever.”

Zhan Shen seemed confused, “What-- How?”

Miles couldn’t help but laugh as he pointed to the silver wing pin, “Old Zhan, you didn’t send the location. You sent her a picture of yourself.

I believe they called it... a selfie.”