Sporemageddon

Death Cap - Twenty-Seven - Running Fast Enough to Avoid the Consequences of Your Own Actions

Death Cap - Twenty-Seven - Running Fast Enough to Avoid the Consequences of Your Own Actions

Death Cap - Twenty-Seven - Running Fast Enough to Avoid the Consequences of Your Own Actions

Walking up to the bullies and dropping a bomb at their feet would be the height of stupidity. Instead I observed from afar. The first couple of bullies to arrive waited and chatted with the stall-keeper, an older gentleman who probably didnt have any thief problems judging by how chummy he was being with the police.

They stepped aside to let another gentleman order a warm drink. Bullies had priority in the line, but they werent the only customers. The stall had a tin roof and a big rack at the front that sold newspapers.

I squinted at it, then had an idea.

It was moderately high risk, but not impossible to pull off. Youre going to have to stay here, I said to Sir Nibbles as I grabbed him by the middle and placed him on the ground of the alleyway.

He looked around, then back up at me.

Yes, really, I said. Ill be right back, okay? Keep this safe. I left my bagful of mushroom bombs next to an over-full dumpster, and Sir Nibbles climbed atop it. If anyone tried to grab my stuff, theyd have to deal with him first. Or hed just let them take it for a scratch to the chin. The little asshole was too much like a cat sometimes.

I fished out a few coins from my pockets. I hated the expense, but Id be making so much more if it worked that I couldnt afford to hesitate about it. Then, before I left, I fished out one of my mushroom-filled nets and stuffed it down the front of my shirt. It gave the impression that I had a bit of a belly.

Good. That might actually help in this case.

With money in hand, I loitered by the entrance of the alleyway until I saw the two bullies by the stall being joined by four more.

Six targets. That wasnt too bad.

I had no idea how many bullies there were in City Nineteen, but they were common enough. Maybe one or two for every thousand people? The city had a pretty big population for what it was. It needed a constant influx of people to keep everything going.

Skirting around some traffic, I crossed the road towards the stall and then skipped the line waiting for the old mans attention and headed right for the rack of newspapers. It was literally within five feet of some of the officers.

Hey, kid! the old man said as I knelt down before the rack. This aint for gawking.

Oh, sorry sir! I said. Foreman sent me to grab his paper! I fished my change out and slapped it onto the counter.

The coins disappeared in a blink and the old man returned to serving folk their tea and coffee with a grunt. That worked for me. Now I was just some brat doing a shitty chore, nothing worth paying attention to.

The rack was built as a set of angled shelves where the newspapers were sitting for people to grab them. I dropped to one knee and picked up a copy of the newspaper on the bottommost row. It was a less popular tabloid paper. The Economists Gazette. Not exactly riveting morning reading, but probably important to this worlds equivalent of a stock broker or whatever.

The sergeant was bent over double, clutching at his stomach while someone--a nurse?--checked on him. Judging by the shading on his pants, my mushrooms had done their job.

Sir Nibbles chittered and I nodded along. We did good. Thats... at least six of them out for the count. Were net-positive for today. But... yeah, I still have a heap of mushrooms.

Just then, I noticed a bully wagon screaming into the intersection. It was one of those nicer motorised vans, with the driver sitting at the top above a big boxy carriage-like space that opened up to disgorge half a dozen bullies all at once.

Oh, now thats a beautiful opportunity, I said. How had the bullies contacted each other so quickly? If it was a skill, then there wasnt much I could do about it, but if it was a piece of technology, then I really wanted to know.

I glanced out and down the street and noted a second bully wagon coming down. This one was longer, with an open rear. I could see half a dozen heads covered in those familiar helmets bobbing along in the back.

Theyd be passing right under me.

Oh, oh this is too easy, I muttered as I opened my bag.

The traffic had jammed up on the road below, but a few of the newly arrived bullies were working on untangling the mess. Those that Id blasted were being tended to and were chugging down potions while others watched on.

Of course they had potions that could get rid of my poison effects. I should have figured as much. The good thing was that they didnt seem to carry them as part of their normal kit. The potions were stored in one of the wagons.

I unpacked a few mushrooms and waited on the edge of the roof while the second bully wagon crawled along.

Then, right when it was passing below, I tossed the mushrooms down.

I didnt even need to trigger them magically for them to burst apart. The first two burst too soon in front of the wagon, the third smacked the side next to the driver and burst apart uselessly, but the fourth, oh the fourth landed right in the back as if guided by divine chance.

The bullies looked at the mushrooms held together by a knit net for all of a second before it exploded in their faces.

I cackled.

Then I noticed that a few of them, those outside the blast radius, were looking up at me.

Time to go, Sir Nibbles! I said as I scooped him up and ran.

***