Runebound Reverse Tower of The Dead-Chapter 96: Never Do a Villain Monologue

A sudden sprint.

Kael moved like a bolt toward the shop while everyone was watching what looked like a glass silhouette move through the streets.

The moment he committed, his heart slammed into his ribs and didn’t stop. His boots scraped rubble. His breath came sharp and shallow. His nerves remembered the Ifrit’s heat when he first pushed himself to the limit, his body remembered the pain of being close to death even with the muffling of [Presence], and that body told his legs to go, faster, faster, faster.

"That’s a climber! GET HIM!" one of the snakes howled as they tried to catch up to kael.

"Holy shit why is he so fast!" one of them complained as Kael rushed past him without stopping.

"He’s heading to the shop! STOP HIM!" two of the snakes rushed toward the shop to try and intercept Kael.

A couple arrows flew past his head, missing completely.

One hissed so close it made his ear ring. Another clipped a chunk of masonry beside him and exploded it into dust that stung his cheek. Kael didn’t flinch. He couldn’t afford to. He only leaned harder into speed, using the broken street like a course he’d already memorized.

But Kael couldn’t help but rush forward.

He couldn’t let go of [Presence] because he noticed that even though a few were able to spot and track him with difficulty, the rest were completely oblivious to where he was.

That was the only thing keeping him from being swarmed. The rune wasn’t saving him, it was buying him fractions of a second, confusion, hesitation. And in a mob, hesitation was the difference between getting clipped and getting buried.

Kael hurried and jumped above the railings around the shop and pressed the door entrance.

The neon glare of the store hit his eyes like a slap. That cheap, false safety. That safe zone promise. He lunged for it like a drowning man lunging for air.

[You are marked as a Red Player, you cannot access safe zones!]

Kael’s stomach dropped so hard it felt like his insides moved.

[Wait until Red Player status dissipates.]

[You have to wait for: 19 seconds]

’Fuck," Kael cursed.

Nineteen seconds.

Nineteen seconds wasn’t time. Nineteen seconds was a lifetime with thirty hungry people and weapons.

The red status was an unfair stigma he got assigned, though he was attacked first, since he dodged and didn’t take damage the tower didn’t recognize the intent. And instead when Kael retaliated and killed his assailant, he was considered the first attacker. Thus he was branded.

Turning to face the mob that surrounded him. His back pressed against the shop door like the door could somehow absorb the blows meant for him. His fingers tightened around his only weapon, the gauntlet on his arm which suddenly felt heavier. Like it was mocking him with the idea of fire he couldn’t afford to use in a crowd.

"Oh, look at that," one of them said.

He was far larger than most climbers, wearing a tank top instead of the tracksuit offered by the system with what looked like a rusty axe with one hand. The tank top was almost insulting in this place, like the man wanted to show off that he didn’t need the Tower’s charity clothes. His shoulders were thick. His forearms were corded. The bandana around his arm was wrapped so tight it made the veins stand out.

And his smile wasn’t a smile. It was a promise.

[Presence had failed!]

The effect of presence completely disappeared while Kael was stuck facing a mob of thirty or so Snakes.

Color flooded back into the world in the worst way, too bright, too sharp, too real. The stink of sweat, old blood, and cheap metal hit him full force. Every sound returned: boots scraping, weapons shifting, people laughing under their breath like this was entertainment.

Kael’s chest rose and fell once, hard. He forced his face into something steady.

"What the fuck do you want?" Kael shouted, trying to sound as intimidating as possible.

His voice echoed off the broken buildings, too loud, too raw. It didn’t make them flinch. If anything, it made a few of them grin wider.

"Look at this bitch, he got caught now he’s tryina act tough!" the man said as he pointed his axe at Kael.

’Fuck, just a few more seconds...’

Kael’s eyes flicked to the door again, as if he could see the countdown through it. He couldn’t. The system didn’t show it unless he looked, and looking meant losing track of the mob. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"He’s a red player!" another said, "Whatever he has that made him invisible will drop once he dies!"

"Look at that gauntlet he has, that shit looks awesome, you think it’s armor he obtained?"

"I saw him get off the station, you think he killed the basilisk?" another said.

Kael’s jaw tightened at that one. The thought of them giving him credit for something he couldn’t do would’ve been funny if it wasn’t seconds away from getting him killed. But that too was confirmation of his worries. They know about the hidden piece and they probably came for it.

"No shot," a new person said as he moved to be next to the one Kael presumed leader with the axe.

This one looked calmer. Not weaker, just colder. His eyes didn’t dart around greedily like the others. And Kael recognized him immediately, it was the person who was shooting him with arrows last night.

They surrounded Kael making him feel pinned the way a butcher pinned meat to a board.

"That basilisk was too high level for a single person to kill, and this guy..." he leaned forward slightly, voice lowering like he was telling a secret everyone already wanted to hear, "this is the fucker that killed Tristen."

"Oh, that’s why you’re a red player?" the boss said.

His grin widened, and the axe rolled in his palm like he’d been waiting all day for permission.

"Well, get ready to pay for your sins!"

He rushed at Kael.

The big man moved faster than his size had any right to. Boots slammed the ground. The axe came up, ready to carve, and in the same moment the rest of the mob shifted, some stepping forward to box Kael in, some lifting bows, some raising weapons like they were eager to be first to land a hit.

However, Kael simply smiled.

It wasn’t joy. It wasn’t confidence. It was the sharp, ugly relief of a man seeing a rope snap at the exact moment it needed to.

"Thanks for blabbering too long," and pressed his back against the door and entered the shop.