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The Good Life: Narcissistic Cannibal (ch. 70)
🕑 Added 2024-12-06 15:53:06 +0000 UTC“No wonder you and Law get along so well -- you both love your little experiments,” Yoruichi noted as Sukuna glanced up from the book that he was reading, his feet propped up on a desk while he waited for the results of his latest… well, experiment was likely the correct word but it was more that he was indulging his curiosity. He didn't have a particular outcome in mind or a result he'd like to see. He just wanted to see what happened.
“I'm almost impressed how Law managed to con an entire city into believing he's anything more than a moron,” Sukuna replied blandly. “What experiment did he rip off this time?” Law the Fraudulent One -- that was the epitaph that Law deserved.
“Nope, this time it's an original creation. Unlike yours,” Yoruichi teased, holding up a brass cylinder. “Testing out Shimmer tolerance? Yawn.” She added, making Sukuna glance at his project with a lower eye.
Edmundo was strapped to a table with reinforced iron clamps. A good dozen of them to make sure he didn't thrash about too much. He had undergone some changes over the course of a couple of months. His skin now held a dark purple hue to it, as did his eyes, hair, and even teeth -- he nearly doubled in size both in terms of height and in muscle mass, and even now the glow of Shimmer shone brightly in his veins.
He was connected to a barrel of Shimmer that was drip feeding it into his body by an IV. As it had been for months now. By Sukuna's count, he had consumed six barrels so far, and he was working on a seventh with no more difficulty than he had the first.
“He just keeps going. I almost admire his gluttony,” Sukuna admitted. If Edmundo died, it meant nothing to him. If he completed this transformation, perfectly adapting to Shimmer… it would still mean nothing to him. The only conclusion that did hold his interest is wondering if Edmundo would be able to become entertaining when Sukuna decided to stop feeding him Shimmer. “Now, what's this original creation of Laws? I could use a laugh.”
In response, Yoruichi set the cylinder on the table and twisted it open, revealing… “Yeah, that was my reaction too,” Yoruichi noted, Sukuna's surprise evident on his face.
Within the container were strands of a soul. Altered somehow to exist outside of the body, made physical with no signs of degradation. They were kept in vacuum sealed tubes, all ten of them that were arranged around a refrigeration unit, keeping them well below freezing temperatures. They were unlike anything Sukuna had seen before, even considering his brief interaction with the nature of souls.
“He went and did something unexpected. He also gave me this to pass on,” Yoruichi said, producing a letter from a pocket and passing it on. Sukuna unfolded it and was rather unimpressed with its contents.
Findings:
Weak synth souls = shitty soul noodle. Strong soul = strong soul noodle.
Shitty soul noodle can absorb ambient mana up to 1 unit of mana. Excessive absorption leads to degradation.
Channeling mana through noodle leads to degradation. 20% decrease in efficiency with each use.
Soul noodles are malleable during creation process, less so after.
They're neat toys and I felt like sharing. Have fun!
“What exactly is he hoping I do with them?” Sukuna wondered, cocking an eyebrow as he removed one of the ‘soul noodles’ from it's place and inspected it. It was a soft silverish white with hints of a blue hue that seemed to shift in place.
“Nothing in particular,” Yoruichi answered with a small shrug. “Laws trying to figure out how to increase their quality, as well as how to transplant them into a person without rejection. I watched a few of his attempts… they got messy,” she added, her lips thinning.
“That doesn't explain why he's giving them to me,” Sukuna noted, idly noting her… unease with the project. Yoruichi and he were similar creatures in nature, just not in practice. She defined herself by those she saw value in, but this was the first time Sukuma had seen some kind of dissonance between her and Law. It wasn't much, only notable merely because they were always so in sync.
“Mages of this world absorb mana, that then gets channeled through their ‘Element.’ Which sounded enough like an innate technique to get Law thinking that he should see what you, me, and Cinder can do with them.” Yoruichi replied, making Sukuna tilt his head.
He hummed, “I suppose I should appreciate the gift then.” It was interesting. Fascinating really. Like Law, magic had his interest, but so far, it was out of reach. That, and he had other matters to hold his attention. These ‘Soul Noodles’ sounded next to useless, but they were a proof of concept. “And, perhaps, I underestimated him. I figured he'd only be good for copying someone else's work.”
“Aw, is that a compliment?” Yoruichi said, a teasing grin back on her face. “I'll tell him you said that. It'll make his whole day.” Sukuna peeled his lips back in an annoyed snarl, but she paid it no mind. Nor did she find him particularly threatening. “Any idea what you're going to do with ‘em?”
He did have a few ideas. Transplanting them into himself would be ideal, but they weren't ready for that. Using them as a conversion tool to convert mana into cursed energy or cursed energy into mana also seemed useful. Just outside of the realm of possibility at the moment. Something more feasible was…
A cursed corpse. An artificial creation animated by cursed energy. Sukuna was aware of the practice, and he had even created a few during his lifetime, but they never managed to impress him. Not even his own creations. They were simply too predictable. There was no higher intelligence governing their actions, just moving like puppets dancing on a string.
He didn't expect for that opinion to change, but magic opened up several possibilities… and one of them was laying on the table in front of him…
“I have a few,” Sukuna replied with a faint smile, returning the soul noodle to the cylinder.
“Good. It's a project that you can work on in your own time -- for now, we're on the clock,” Yoruichi said, throwing a grin his way. “I think you've played with your food enough. The time is right -- Silco is getting a foothold into the Spire, meaning that this is the opportunity I've been waiting for to make an introduction.”
Sukuna hummed, his interest dimming in comparison to the project before him. “And you can't handle that because?”
“I want them to see the big bad scary Sukuna the Cannibal in the flesh. You know, to put our best foot forward,” Yoruichi answered and Sukuna considered that for but a moment. Yoruichi wasn't the type for simple plans, however direct and lazy she was as a person. She was hoping to accomplish more with this than shock and awe. Sukuna found that he was just curious enough to see it through to find out what.
“Might as well,” Sukuna agreed, yawning as he stood up. “Playing with the Slickjaws has gotten dull.” But, first, he had to take care of something.
Walking over to Edmundo, he saw the man's sweat had a pinkish hue to it. He wasn't really sure exactly what that meant, but it was likely a sign that Edmundo was reaching his limit for Shimmer if he was sweating it out now. That knowledge didn't deter Sukuna in the slightest from grabbing another barrel and hooking it up to him. A second IV now dripped more Shimmer onto his veins.
Either he would adapt to it, or he would die. If he lived, then his regeneration should be able to keep up with the noodle transplant rejection. If he died, then Sukuna would just use his body as a cursed corpse. It was all the same to him.
Stepping out while Yoruichi went out to do whatever she did, Sukuna gazed out into the Pit as people had taken to calling it. Over the course of months, the ‘Goonies’ had taken to building the place up. The heavy darkness was pushed back with neon lights, buildings had been erected that were more than cobbled together leftovers. The odd hundred people that inhabited the Pit all wore the same dull look and vacant smile.
Raising a hand into the air, Sukuna snapped and instantly became the center of attention. Those that inhabited the Pit were the lowest of scum. Malformed addicts and those so wretched that they couldn't hope to cut it in what passed for an average life in the Undercity. “Draw straws. I need about twenty of you,” He decided as he walked.
Yoruichi truly knew what she was doing. Sukuna admired it -- the Goonies received nothing in the way of training. They were just kept high but it was drilled into their minds that their newfound bliss had a price that would one day be collected.
And Sukuna was calling in what they owed.
A hundred men and women gathered up, each taking a straw that was prepared for this occasion. The selection was made without any fuss, the men and women chosen too high on Joy to even understand fear. It was pretty convenient, Sukuna decided. There was nothing more irritating than the sound of weaklings begging for their life. With the twenty chosen, he tossed them all a file containing the names and locations of corpses in the making. “Pick one and grab a grenade.”
They did so and Sukuna could see it still wasn't registering with them. “Go kill them,” Sukuna said, making a dismissive gesture that prompted the twenty to break out into a jaunty sprint, as if they were running home after a long day rather than to their own deaths.
Yoruichi really was good at what she did, Sukuna thought again as he trailed behind the assassins from above. The first mark was nearby and the assassination was… simple.
It wasn't that hard to kill someone. Even with their guard up. Humans were just humans, in the end. What made assassination difficult was the assassin’s worry of survival, and sometimes fear of collateral damage. Sukuna was sure some humans were harder to kill than others, but the tattooed gangster with five men following him wasn't one of them.
The Goonie rushed forward, pulling the pin on the grenade, and tackled the target. The man barely had time to register what was going on before the bomb went off. People started screaming as shrapnel and bone shards tore into those around them. Two of the man's group died, along with some fishman who was walking by.
It was simple. Efficient. No hesitation of any kind. It had never occurred to Sukuna that such trash could be polished until they shined like a diamond.
Even if only for an instant.
The process repeated itself again. And again. And again. And again. Some attacks were clustered together. Others took longer as the Goonies needed time to find their targets. During that delay, word quickly spread of the attacks. It took longer for the who and the why to become clear amongst the panicking population, leaving a handful of Slickjaws to get picked off before they realized they were being targeted.
Not all of the assassinations were performed so smoothly. In one case, the assassin was shot full of holes, but even that didn't stop him from mindlessly charging forth and blowing himself and the target up.
Sukuna drank it all in, collecting the Tithe of cursed energy that the Goonies harvested for him. It was a trickle as he feasted upon the fear, pain, and horror of those affected. As it was, it'd take him a century to regain his previous strength. But, given that it had taken him nearly four centuries to get that strong originally…
It wasn't bad. Not enough on its own, but it wasn't bad.
The Slickjaws, upon realizing that they were being picked off, eventually did what they thought was a good idea. They contracted. Like animals, they sought safety in numbers.
It was then that Sukuna arrived at their headquarters for a second time. He landed in the middle of the road, giving the guards that protected the building just enough time to gaze upon him. To realize who he was and why he was there.
Then he clasped his hands together.
“Domain Expansion,” Sukuna uttered, his Shrine appearing behind him. As irritating as it was, he couldn't go all out. Law had plans for the city, so it wasn't something he could destroy at his leisure. So, he only allowed his barrier to expand enough to engulf the buildings before and behind him, while clipping the buildings adjacent to them. “Malevolent Shrine.”
The guards barely had time to scream before their bodies were broken down. The buildings vanished piece by piece as they were relentlessly assaulted with Cleaves and Dismantles. Within seconds, the only trace of the buildings, and the people therein, was the dust lingering in the air.
A smile tugged at his lips -- none of those watching were worthy of his attention, but he could feel the fear in the air as he drank it in. They should be honored. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't even consider allowing such pathetic cursed energy to be added to his Shrine. Yet, until he returned to full strength, he couldn't afford to be picky.
It was a frightful display of power to these people, making most of them flee in terror.
All except for one.
Sukuna’s smile grew a fraction as someone approached through the dust, his gaze sliding over to the figure as they made no effort to hide their footsteps.
A blue haired girl emerged some feet away, brushing away the dust with one hand while in the other she carried a… minigun, was it? She looked at him with the complete absence of fear, though not without some surprise. “Wow… you really do have a mouth for a belly button.”
“You're the one that's been spying on me. Jinx, was it?” Sukuna said, tilting his head as he sensed Yoruichi's arrival. Meaning she wanted him to know she was here.
Meaning that this girl was part of Yoruichi’s plans.
“That's me!” Jinx said, the barrels of the minigun starting to spin. “I got sent here to give ya’ a talkin’ to. Something something, don't break what doesn't belong to you, something something. I forgot. But you don't exactly strike me as the listening type. Or the talking type. Which is a little funny since you have two mouths.” The girl half babbled mindlessly, yet her gaze was sharp.
At least until Yoruichi arrived next to her, announcing her presence by throwing an arm over Jinx’s shoulder. “But I am,” Yoruichi said, reaching out with a hand and tilting Jinx’s head to look at her as she went tense. Yoruichi gave the girl a cutting smile, “I think I could talk to Silco about a few things… maybe you could arrange for us to have that conversation, hm?”
Jinx stepped away from Yoruichi’s grasp, and Yoruichi allowed it. She considered the offer for a moment before she gave a huge dismissive shrug.
“Sure. Why not?”
…
Caitlyn was filled with nervous jitters as she inspected herself in the full length mirror one last time. It almost felt like she was in a dream -- she had pictured herself in an Enforcer uniform more times than she could count. Ever since that meeting with Sheriff Grayson as a girl, which had turned shooting from a hobby to a skill to hone for a purpose. It was only a few years later that the desire to become an Enforcer crystalized into a true goal in the wake of the Sheriff's death.
Murdered in the Undercity, protecting the people from those that sought them harm.
It took a thousand arguments and a hundred compromises to finally convince her mother. Her father had quietly supported her, helping in his own way -- not so much because he approved, but because he knew it was something she was serious about. It was the path she had chosen for her life and she was determined to see it through.
And, at long last, she was going to take her first serious step to become what she wanted to be.
“You look wonderful, dear,” Caitlyn heard her mother say, revealing her presence at the door. Her mother, despite how fiercely she had resisted the idea, looked at her with pride in her eyes. “I can see you with the Sheriff tassels already.”
“Bit early for that. I don't even have my Ensign badge,” Caitlyn muttered a reply, plucking at the hem of her uniform before she turned around to face her. “I'm not running behind, am I?” She asked, a spike of worry driving into her heart as she realized she had no idea how long she had spent on her appearance.
“No, you're still on time for being early. I just wanted to have a word with you before you left,” her mother admitted, stepping into her bedroom. The maids kept it clean, despite Caitlyn's clutter -- there were about a good dozen rifles and pistols that were in various stages of disassembly, and there was only so much shelf space. “You know I'm against this. And I know that you know. It's dangerous. Even at the highest levels… it's not safe, Caitlyn.”
Caitlyn opened her mouth to begin the argument anew, only to fall silent when her mother held up a hand. “But, I am proud of you. The danger worries me because I'm your mother, and worrying about our children is what we do. Both myself and your father. So, I need you to promise me that you'll be careful. I won't ask that you be safe because that… that isn't the job. And you're too stubborn for your own good.”
“Mother, it's orientation. They aren't going to send us off half cocked-” Caitlyn started but her mother silenced her with a look.
“You know that's not what I meant,” her mother pointed out, rightly so. Caitlyn did understand.
A soft sigh escaped her, “I promise I'll be careful. But I won't let that get in the way of the job,” she added, making her mother smile at her. The smile that parents gave when their children said something foolish.
“I’d be shocked if you did,” her mother replied drily. However, then her smile fell and she closed her eyes for a moment. Something felt wrong, like a dream shifting to a nightmare, and that feeling only grew when her mother opened her eyes to level a heavy gaze on Caitlyn. “Enjoy your first day, Caitlyn. We'll talk after you're done with orientation, okay?”
“... Okay?” Caitlyn replied, not really sure what that conversation would be about, but she was more relieved than suspicious that her mother wasn't trying to stop her enrollment at the last second.
Her mother saw her confusion and simply stepped forward and gave Caitlyn a hug. “I am proud of you, Caitlyn. Never doubt that for a second.”
“I won't,” Caitlyn replied, returning the hug for a long minute, a weight lifting off of her shoulders.
It was her mother that ended the hug, “You had better be off. Now you're in danger of arriving on time,” she said, giving Caitlyn a small smile. Caitlyn returned it before she swiftly left the room and the manor after that. Her driver was already waiting for her with the door open for her to enter the mechanized carriage.
The jitters grew stronger as she gazed out the window, watching the city go by. Seeing the small changes that most others wouldn't have noticed.
Like how the shops displayed more Noxian, Demacia, and even Ionian goods in their display windows. The fabrics of people's clothes showed subtle changes, the hues more colorful and vibrant. To that end, there were simply more people as well -- people from across the world who decided to accompany the trade ships back from whatever far corner of the world they were flung.
Her gaze lingered on a Mr. Handy that stood on a corner, holding a sign aloft. Advertisement for a music shop. Her lips twitched as she saw the machine as it spun the sign to the point she almost couldn't read the looping text written on it. “Singers Pitch?” She remarked, passing the shop by.
There were other Mr. Handys out in the city. Some followed behind their owners, others were performing maintenance in spots that people couldn't reach without difficulty. Over the course of months, the machines were steadily becoming more and more common. Each one expensive but, in Piltover, that just meant purchasing one was a matter of pride.
She hadn't interacted with Law Trafalgar much outside of a few brief meetings, usually when they were surrounded by others. Jayce seemed to think a lot of him, though. So, for that, Caitlyn was pleased to see that Law's creation was a resounding success. It was just fascinating to see someone who had the utmost confidence in themselves go and do exactly what they hoped to achieve.
Before long, the Enforcer Academy came into view -- it was on the fringe of Piltover, towards the northern edge of the city. The remoteness of it helped with the drills. Or so she had heard. It was a large building, with several floors seated at the heart of a track with obstacle courses surrounding it -- blue brick with brass trimmings. It was unmistakable.
“Thanks for the ride, Donnovan,” Caitlyn said, getting out of the carriage. Her family's drover offered a smile before leaving her to approach the large double doors. Her heart was pounding in anticipation as she stepped inside and she glanced down at the sheet of paper that marked her orientation room. 3A.
After getting a little lost, she found the room and pulled it open to find a large classroom… that had entirely too many seats for the people within. It could seat around a hundred with the elevated seats, but perhaps thirty were scattered about. They all glanced her way while Caitlyn glanced at the clock finding that she was right on time.
There was only one person in the front row. A raven haired woman around her age, with golden amber eyes -- she was pretty. Very pretty. Pretty enough that Caitlyn gave her as wide a berth as possible while also taking a seat in the front row.
She was the last to arrive it seemed, because it was only a few minutes later that a man entered the classroom. Caitlyn recognized him instantly.
Sheriff Marcus. The man who replaced Sheriff Grayson, earning the title by bringing Grayson's murderers to justice. A man of average height, with short black hair and a thin short beard wearing an immaculate uniform with the Sheriff Badge on his chest.
“Welcome to orientation,” Marcus began, his tone even and lacking much warmth. “All of you are here because you wish to serve our fair city. To protect its people from foes within and without. Enforcers are, in function, the closed fist of the Council, and everyone here must prepare themselves to be used as one.”
Caitlyn wasn't the only one who shifted in her seat at the rather bleak opening message. Something that Marcus didn't miss as his dark eyes bounced between them, lingering on Caitlyn. “Some of you have an idealized vision of what it means to be an Enforcer, I see. That's fine. Enough time on the job will get rid of such ideas, so I won't waste my breath.”
Now Caitlyn was frowning, but she still said nothing as Marcus continued. “Enforcers are stationed in both Piltover and the undercity, however, of the two, the station that you want is in Piltover. The undercity is a den of murderers, rapists, thieves, and conmen -- it's not their fault, really. In the end, those in the undercity don't have the same opportunities as the people in this room. Yet, instead of lifting each other up and banding together to improve their situation… they instead celebrate those that violate our laws. Being a criminal is honorable in their eyes.”
What was going on? What was this speech? Had her mother put him up to this? One final gambit to get her to quit before she committed?
“Violence is the only language that the undercity understands. It is the only language that they speak -- both to us, and to each other.” Marcus continued, unbothered by the effect his words were having on the room as he set a briefcase on the table. “And they seek nothing more than to drag us down to their level.”
He reached inside of the briefcase and took out a pill bottle before he tossed it to Caitlyn, who nearly dropped it. “Joy,” Marcus began as she inspected the small pink pills for a moment before she reached out to pass it to the raven haired girl in the same row. Caitlyn tried to not notice how her fingers brushed against Caitlyn's as she took it.
“And Mentats,” Marcus continued, tossing Caitlyn a tray of tablets covered by a film. Small white squares. It was almost professional in presentation.
“Both are drugs originating in the undercity. One induces euphoria while the other induces focus -- both have been found in Piltover University, used by students. So far, we have had three overdoses, one of which was ultimately fatal.” Caitlyn had heard something like that, though she hadn't known what drug had been taken. “I won't begrudge them their own accomplishments. The people of the undercity do possess their own special brand of innovation. However, they use it to make a mockery of our way of life… and I can think of no better example than what happened today.”
Today? What happened today?
“Leave your things. We're going on a small field trip. I see all of you have your doubts, so I hope seeing will be believing,” Marcus said as he gestured them to all follow.
They hesitated before doing so with her and the raven haired girl at the front. She leaned in and whispered, “That was… bracing.”
“Not exactly what I thought orientation would cover…” Caitlyn agreed, whispering back. That got the girl's lips to twitch.
“Cinder Fall,” Cinder introduced herself with a smirk.
“Caitlyn,” Caitlyn introduced herself, leaving off her first name. She loved her family, but it was undeniable that people acted differently once they heard it.
The chance to talk fell away as they loaded up into a trolly that took them back into the city, then on another that brought them down into the undercity. Masks were given out and most chose to put them on as the air grew… strange. Each breath made Caitlyn want to cough as if she had a tickle in the back of her throat, but she held off to avoid looking weak. In particular in comparison to Cinder, who didn't seem to mind the air of the undercity at all.
Nor did she flinch from the sights around them.
The undercity felt like stepping into a whole new world. It was completely unlike the upper part of the city -- everything was dark and grimy, with even the air feeling unclean. The bright neon lights illuminated everything despite it being mid morning, as the sun hadn't risen high enough to illuminate the fissures.
Soon, she saw more traces of Law's involvement in the city. Men and women placing filters marked with the Vought logo, or people waiting in line to relieve a nutritional block that'd keep them healthy, if not full. The grime of the city was being pushed back with another one of his machines -- a Mr. Clean, which was much like a Mr. Handy that was focused on repairs and cleaning.
Caitlyn wasn't entirely sure what Marcus was taking them to see until they saw it.
Makeshift medical areas on the sides of roads filled with people bloodied and screaming. Signs of an explosion revealed what happened, leaving behind rubble and…
Caitlyn's stomach nearly heaved when she realized the scraps of meat had once been people. Others lost the battle and puked, but Marcus didn't allow them to linger. As he led them through the streets, from one disaster to the next, he spoke. “As far as we can tell, this was the result of two gangs coming into conflict. Men and women were used as suicide bombers who took out gang affiliated targets… along with everyone else that happened to be nearby.”
He held up a finger, “Yet, that wasn't their most egregious breach in basic dignity. No. They are guilty of a far greater crime,” Marcus said and…
“What is… that?” Caitlyn heard herself whisper as they approached the edge of one of the Lanes, a bridge that allowed them to look at… Caitlyn wasn't even sure.
It was like a space had just been erased. A perfectly round dome that eclipsed to buildings entirely and shaved off entire rooms around them. She could almost visualize whatever bomb had gone off as it had too have been placed directly in the center of the road. However, everything within that area was just… gone. Reduced to a fine layer of dust that had already settled.
She wasn't sure if Marcus had heard her, but he answered her question all the same. “That is the undercity reminding us of the dangers of magic. A single unregistered mage killed everyone in those buildings, and maimed three in the periphery. We can't even count the dead because there's nothing left of them. Our best estimates… somewhere between fifty to a hundred people died today. Over a gang turf war.”
Oh… poor Jayce, Caitlyn thought to herself, realizing that his Hextech had likely just gotten a lot more controversial. He was already frustrated by the red tape he was facing as it was, but now…
“This is what you will be facing as Enforcers of the city. People who can butcher a hundred men, half of them innocent of any wrongdoing, without care simply because it advances whatever evil agenda that they have. This is what you have to prepare yourself to face, because you are the shield that protects the innocent from this. If you aren't ready for that, then quit.” Marcus finished, holding his hands behind his back as he gazed at the lot of them.
None of them walked away.
