I Die to Rise: Resurrection System-Chapter 85: Vacation: Sevoflurane and Secrets!
The two men were setting the charge for the last black swan when Kurt’s eyes fluttered open. Pain lanced through his neck like a phantom agony from the break that had killed him, and he groaned under his breath.
"Son of a bitch..."
[RESURRECTION COMPLETE]
[Deaths: 15]
[New Ability Unlocked: Elasticity - F Rank]
[- Host exists in a fluid state, neither entirely liquid nor solid, allowing for malleable physiology]
[Points Awarded: +10: Rare Death]
[Available Points: 10]
Kurt dismissed the notification with a thought, pushing himself up onto his elbows. His neck felt fine now, perfectly healed, but the memory of the stranger’s hand twisting his head backward lingered like a bad aftertaste.
The two workers were still focused on the black swan, speaking in low and urgent voices.
"Alright, we set the last charge and notify Mr. Masquerade," the second guy said, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Realization struck Kurt immediately. ’Masquerade...’ that explained the resemblance to the Silver Tail lieutenant they’d fought before.
Sam’s voice echoed in his memory, explaining the world’s power structure, and the Four Families that occupied a position in that super structure. Masquerade was one of them. Old money, old power, operating in the shadows while guilds fought publicly for scraps.
Kurt rose silently to his feet, testing his balance. The men were still hunched over the black swan, making final adjustments, completely unaware.
Then one of them glanced back.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" he screamed, stumbling backward.
The second man whipped around and fell on his ass when he saw Kurt. "What the fuck?!"
Kurt spread his arms theatrically, adopting his best ominous tone. "I’m the spirit of the Bangrock Island volcano, inhabiting this body. You people are trespassing on sacred ground."
The first guy turned to bolt immediately, but his partner grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "Ain’t no such thing as spirits." His eyes narrowed, studying Kurt. "I don’t know what’s going on here, but I reckon we’re gonna have to kill you again."
Kurt cracked his neck, pulled out a cigarette from his nearly empty pack, and lit it with a flick of his lighter. He took a long drag, exhaled smoke slowly, and grinned.
"Can’t fault a lad for trying." He rolled his shoulders. "Alright then. Who’s first?"
Both men charged simultaneously, coming at him from east and west like they’d practiced the maneuver before.
"So two at once?" Kurt muttered, tracking their movements. His enhanced senses, courtesy of Apex Predator, took note of everything: muscle tension, weight distribution, the slight hesitation in the eastern attacker’s stride. From what he could deduce, these men were low-tier C-rank at best.
Kurt grinned and met them head-on.
The first man swung a wild haymaker, and Kurt ducked under it smoothly, his arm streched as he drove his fist into the man’s ribs with strength aura flaring yellow around his knuckles.
The impact lifted the worker off his feet and sent him stumbling sideways and Kurt’s glowing arm retracted like a rubber-band.
The second came in low, trying for a tackle. Kurt sidestepped, brought his knee up into the man’s stomach, and followed with an elbow to the back of his head that sent him staggering.
They recovered faster than he expected. If they were indeed C rank as he deduced, then their endurance and durability made sense.
They came at him again with more coordination this time. The first feinted left, the second went right, forcing Kurt to split his attention.
Kurt activated Kinetic absorption and caught the first man’s punch, absorbed the kinetic energy, and redirected it into a devastating counterpunch that cracked his ribs, causing the man to wheeze and double over.
The second goon’s stomach suddenly swelled, distending grotesquely, and he opened his mouth wide. A stream of acid erupted from his throat, hissing through the air straight at Kurt’s face.
<Acid Spit!>
Kurt threw himself backward, hitting the ground in a roll, and the acid splattered where he’d been standing, eating through metal grating with a sizzling sound.
"Lovely," Kurt muttered, coming up in a crouch.
He took a drag from his cigarette, exhaled, and shaped the smoke. The gray wisps coalesced into two massive fists that rocketed forward and slammed into the acid-spitter, lifting him off his feet and hurling him into the tunnel wall with a bone-rattling crack.
The second man saw this and sank into the ground like it was water, disappearing completely as he planned to launch a surprise attack.
Kurt immediately went still, listening. Apex Predator sharpened his hearing to supernatural levels, he could hear the man’s heartbeat beneath the stone, the scrape of movement as he repositioned.
There.
A hand shot up through the floor, grabbing Kurt’s ankle with crushing force. The goon grinned, pulling downward, trying to drag Kurt into the stone for a burial.
But Kurt didn’t resist. Instead, sharp, white spikes erupted from his leg, punching through the man’s forearm and grip in a spray of blood. The assailant screamed and released him immediately, hand retreating into the stone.
Unfortunately for him, Kurt reached down, grabbed the retreating arm before it could fully submerge, and pulled with Strength Aura flooding his muscles.
The worker came out of the ground like a cork from a bottle, eyes wide with shock and pain. Kurt didn’t give him time to recover. He drove a fist into the man’s face... once, twice, then lifted him bodily and slammed him into the ground.
The impact cratered the floor, and the goon went limp.
Just then, the acid-spitter was already recovering, pushing himself off the wall, stomach swelling again for another attack.
"Don’t!" Kurt moved faster. He grabbed the unconscious body of his partner and held it up like a shield. The acid-spitter hesitated, eyes going wide, unwilling to melt his comrade.
Unlike the acid spitter, Kurt didn’t hesitate. He hurled the unconscious body forward, and it collided with the acid-spitter, both men going down in a tangle of limbs.
Then Kurt made use of his gas manipulation as knockout gas flowed from his fingertips.... invisible, odorless, efficient.
It spread across the tunnel floor, pooling around the struggling men, and within seconds their movements slowed, then stopped entirely.
"Fluoromethyl-hexafluoroisopropyl-ether," Kurt muttered, staring at his hand. "Also known as sevoflurane. Comes with memory loss as a side effect." He paused. "And I have no idea how I know that."
This must have been a perk of the Gas Lord evolution. Instinctive knowledge of chemical compounds and their effects.
The men were completely unconscious now, breathing shallowly but alive. A notification appeared, awarding Kurt for a successful quest.
[Sub-Quest 2 COMPLETE: Defeat the operatives]
[Reward: +15 Points]
[Available Points: 25]
Not bad, but he’d need a whole lot more of that if he wanted to break even against tough guys like Braun in the future.
Kurt was about to examine the black swan charges when he heard footsteps approaching, multiple sets, moving fast.
He tensed, turning toward the sound, fists already glowing orange.
Then he recognized the voices.
"Kurt!"
Sam sprinted into view first, she was in a pink two-piece, and threw her arms around him. "You’re okay! We thought—"
"Hey! Quit stealing my thing!" Lizzie’s voice cut through, and she came bounding after Sam with manic energy.
She leaped at Kurt in a hop-skip-jump, launching herself sideways expecting to be caught like a bride. Kurt’s reflexes kicked in, and he caught her mid-air, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back.
Lizzie draped one arm lazily around his shoulders, her other hand reaching up to rub his chin playfully. "So what’s the sitch, handsome?"
Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but Rook and Emma finally caught up, their longer strides closing the distance.
Emma holstered her gun and Rook surveyed the unconscious bodies, the black swan charges, and Kurt holding Lizzie like a bride, yet his expression didn’t change. "Brief us."
Kurt set Lizzie down gently, lit another cigarette (his last one, dammit), and gestured at the sealed entrance glowing with crimson light. "We’ve got bigger problems than bombs."
