"I trust your judgement, Lord Daz, but is it really wise for me to use my... syringe as a weapon?" Lyle asked Daz as the two walked down the cracked road that led down to the city. It was clear to see where Rimmy had previously run on, which had caused the fissures that littered the paved road that Daz and Lyle were now walking on.
"It's just a feeling I have, Lyle," Daz replied before he took a quick second to identify the medical apparatus that Lyle was carefully holding.
|Antique Syringe [D-Rank (Higher Tier)]|
|A syringe that has been used by the wealthy man, Lyle Middleton for fifteen years and holds a special bond with him. It is one hundred and two years old and has been maintained extremely well by its previous owners.|
Due to it being one-hundred and two years old, it looked like it belonged in the Victorian era thanks to the craftsmanship on its metal finger slots and rustic looking glass tube. Daz quite liked the way it looked honestly.
"I feel like I won't get much stronger if I don't use a shovel as my primary weapon, so I think it's best that you use that, or any other syringe in the future instead of the daggers you were using before. That's why I told you to put those skills on it. With you being able to conceal it easily, then use 'inject' to pierce someone with lightning fast speed, it'll work well. Besides, it's your own fault for doing drugs when the apocalypse started. Do you think I wanted my weapon to be a shovel? Just play with the hand you were dealt," Daz said a little bit too heartlessly.
"You can be very... blunt, can't you, my Lord?" Lyle said with a wry smile. 'He's right though, it's my own fault... and if he hadn't stopped me from buying a pair of daggers from the shop, I might have wasted my potential. Assuming he's correct with his 'feeling',' he thought.
"I used to be one of the most likeable people you'd ever meet, but now I'm myself since I don't need to give a fuck about how society views me," Daz said emotionlessly while he hurried along. 'I still can't believe how good at acting I was. I can just be myself now that the world isn't run by a huge metaphorical popularity contest. I wish Rimmy were here. He's the only person that understands me, really. Shame I needed to leave him at the base to look after the Richies...' Daz thought.
"Talking about the shop, why did you choose precision and dexterity to spend most of your points on?" Daz asked with some mild interest as he identified Lyle's status again to think over the matter during his wait for an answer.
|Lyle Middleton's Status|
|Class:||Novice Syringer||Affinity:||Chaotic Good|
|The owner of the store 'Smile like Lyle'. He has always loved his parents. However, they never returned his love and viewed him as a chess piece to continue the family business, which drove him to depression, and eventually, drugs. He managed to find independence with his own business in selling jewellery, but his habit of doing drugs had never left him. He has found a new goal to strive for during the harsh changes of the Apocalypse.|
'It's so interesting how his loyalty stat increased even though he didn't spend points on it. I mean, it was barely two points of difference, but I wonder what other stats are hidden out there that can grow on their own?' Daz pondered while he continued walking.
As the Lord, he could naturally feel the slight increase or decrease in loyalty even if the displayed value was a word and not a number like every other stat.
"Well, my Lord, I barely got any points at all since I did nothing during both the first and second attack. It took up almost all of my merit points putting those skills onto my Syringe and buying the full body recovery. Interesting how that fixed my muscles from my earlier training making the strength stat very cheap in comparison to how much it costs for you,' Lyle remarked, allowing himself to get slightly distracted.
"That's true. Guess I really need to train if I want to save a few points here or there. Anyway, my question," Daz agreed before he pressed with a passive tone, implying his half interest in the matter clearly for Lyle to hear.
"Right. I got dexterity to help me handle the daggers that I intended to use more aptly, and I got the precision so I could accurately stab people with ease. I'm glad the stats I arbitrarily bought can be used with my needle, though," Lyle explained as he fiddled with his old syringe.
Daz took on a thinking expression as he carefully scanned the buildings they were passing as they walked through the silent city. "That makes sense. I'm surprised how easily you can mention stabbing people, though. Then again, you did get drugs regularly I'm assuming. You knew some shady people?" he asked his middle-aged companion.
Lyle's face took a grim shade before he responded, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring up my habit anymore, please. I'm very grateful to you and I- no, we, can't repay you for all that you've done. However, please be considerate of my feelings regarding my past." At that, Lyle stopped walking and stared fixedly at Daz's back.
"Mmm, you're right," Daz replied. He then turned to face Lyle. "It's strange. Ever since this apocalypse started, I've been finding it harder and harder to repress my unusual urges. One such urge is asking about anything that mildly interests me. Please don't let it bother you, Lyle. I value you far more than the Richies," Daz declared much to Lyle's surprise.
'He's struggling to hide his true nature? Is that why I'm experiencing this... my true nature, huh?' Lyle thought before his face took on the usual business-like smile that he wore in almost all situations. "Thank you, my Lord, that means a lot."
The two walked in near silence for the next twenty or so minutes until Daz suddenly pushed his arm out and blocked Lyle's way. "We're here," he claimed as Lyle looked around the corner that Daz was looking past, only to see a Q&B store that was literally surrounded by Zombies and large grey monsters that could only be described as Orcs.
"Fuck. I'll need to help them first before I can get to the shovels, won't I?" Daz mumbled to himself as he watched the group of maybe fifty survivors try to fight off the horde of monsters from the roof with whatever projectiles they could find. They were being led by the sexy redheaded woman that Daz had experienced a short encounter with previously.
"Whatever you do, don't get bit. No matter how much I like you, I'd rather not pay for a cure, got it?" Daz ordered Lyle in a hushed tone. The ex-shopkeeper nodded in agreement.
Upon seeing this nod, Daz picked up a large piece of rubble from the ground and began measuring it up with his eyes. 'Time to see if these fuckers will get aggroed onto me, or will they stay passive like back at Lyle's shop?' He thought before he unstrapped his shovel from his back and prepared to use it.
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