The Scavenger's Hunt
1317 Words
The high-rises of the Old District looked like giant, broken teeth biting into the sky. This part of Jiangnan hadn't been touched by the cleanup crews yet. Here, the "Zones" were still active, and the air smelled like rust and old rain.
Xin adjusted the straps of his tactical vest. It felt heavy—uncomfortably real. There was no silver armor to lighten his load today. On his belt, the Gravity Anchor Mei had built hummed with a low, comforting vibration.
"Keep your head up, Xin," Captain Han whispered into the comms. He was positioned on a rooftop three blocks away, watching through a sniper scope. "These aren't Elementals. They’re Scavengers. They’re humans who decided that stealing from survivors is easier than rebuilding."
"I see them," Xin whispered back.
He was crouched on a narrow ledge on the fourteenth floor of a half-collapsed apartment building. In his hand, he held a simple telescopic baton—no Sun-Blade, no energy beams. Just steel.
Through a jagged hole in the wall, he could see the target: a group of five men in reinforced biker leather. They were loading crates of medical supplies—supplies meant for the refugee camp—into a modified cargo lift. These were the "Vultures," people who used the chaos to get rich.
"Mei, you in the system?" Xin asked.
"Almost," Mei’s voice crackled. She was back at the base, her fingers flying across a salvaged alien keyboard. "The lift they’re using is hooked into a local gravity loop. If I can trip the sensor, the floor will become like ice. They won't be able to stand, but you'll have the Anchor to keep you steady."
"Do it now," Xin said.
He didn't wait. He stepped off the ledge.
For a split second, that old fear of falling gripped his stomach. But he remembered Han’s lesson. Don't fight gravity. Use it. He tucked his body into a tight ball, falling toward a balcony two floors down. He hit the concrete, rolled, and sprang to his feet without losing momentum. He felt like a spring being released.
"Host... heart rate... optimal," the faint whisper of the Engine echoed. "Sync... 0.5%."
Xin burst through the door of the apartment. The Scavengers looked up, startled. The leader, a man with a cybernetic eye and a jagged scar across his throat, sneered.
"Look at this," the leader laughed, pulling a jagged combat knife. "A little hero come to save the bandages. Where's your shiny suit, boy? Where are your wings?"
"I don't need them for you," Xin said.
"Get him!"
As the four men lunged, Mei hit the switch. A high-pitched ping echoed through the room. Suddenly, the gravity in the apartment went sideways. To the Scavengers, the floor felt like it was tilted at a forty-five-degree angle and coated in oil. They slipped, their boots sliding uselessly as they crashed into the walls.
Xin felt the pull, too, but the disc on his belt glowed blue. The Gravity Anchor locked him to the floor. To him, the world stayed level.
Xin moved. He wasn't a blur of light anymore, but he was precise. He stepped past the first man’s clumsy swing and brought the baton down on his forearm. c***k. The man dropped his pipe, howling.
Xin didn't stop to admire the hit. He used the momentum of his step to spin, kicking the second man in the chest. Without a solid floor to brace against, the Scavenger flew backward, sliding across the room and slamming into a kitchen counter.
"You brat!" the leader roared. He jammed his knife into the wall to steady himself and pulled a small, illegal alien-tech pistol from his back.
"Xin, move!" Mei yelled.
The leader fired. A bolt of purple energy hissed past Xin’s ear, scorching the wallpaper.
Xin dived behind a heavy oak table. He could feel the heat of the blast. In the old days, his shield would have eaten that shot. Now, it was just wood between him and a hole in his chest. His heart pounded against his ribs—not out of mechanical duty, but out of pure, human adrenaline.
"Han! I need a distraction!" Xin shouted.
Thwip.
A sniper round from Han’s rifle shattered the window right next to the leader’s head. The man flinched, shielding his eyes from the glass.
That was the opening. Xin didn't run at the man; he ran at the ceiling. He jumped, kicked off the wall, and used the "sideways" gravity to launch himself in a long, low arc. He hit the leader mid-air, tackling him into the cargo lift.
The two tumbled into the small, metal cage. The leader was stronger than he looked, punching Xin hard in the ribs. Xin gasped, the pain blinding him for a second. He felt a familiar darkness at the edge of his vision—the same feeling he had before he first leveled up.
No. Not yet, Xin thought. Win this as a man.
He grabbed the leader’s wrist, twisting it until the pistol clattered to the floor. He used his forehead to headbutt the man, then followed up with a quick, three-punch combo to the solar plexus.
The leader slumped, the air leaving his lungs in a wheeze.
Xin stood over him, breathing hard. His knuckles were bleeding, and his side felt like it was on fire. He looked around the room. The other four Scavengers were groaning on the floor, unable to get up in the shifting gravity.
"Mei, kill the loop," Xin panted.
The gravity snapped back to normal. The sudden weight made Xin’s knees buckle, but he stayed upright.
"Medical supplies secured," Xin said into the comms.
"Good work, Xin," Han’s voice was calm, but there was a hint of pride in it. "Clean and efficient. You didn't rely on a single blast."
Mei’s voice was much more excited. "Xin! Look at the readings! The Engine just spiked to 2%!"
Xin looked at the silver mark on his arm. It wasn't glowing, but the skin around it felt warm—like a heater was starting up in a cold room.
"Physical... threshold... met," the Engine whispered. "Unlocking... Level 1 Passive: Bone Density Enhancement."
Xin felt a strange, tingly itch in his skeleton. It wasn't a huge power-up, but he felt... sturdier. Harder to break.
As the Resistance soldiers arrived to haul the Scavengers away and reclaim the medicine, Old Chen walked into the room. He looked at the mess, then at Xin’s bloodied face. He didn't say anything at first; he just walked over and handed Xin a clean, slightly damp rag.
"You missed a spot," Chen said, pointing to a smudge of grease on Xin's cheek.
Xin laughed, a real, tired laugh. He took the rag and wiped his face.
"I thought you were supposed to be resting, Chen," Xin said.
"I am resting. Watching you work is very relaxing for me," Chen joked. He looked at the crates of medicine. "You did a good thing today, kid. These people weren't aliens. They were just the worst of us. And you handled them like a professional."
Xin looked out the broken window at the city. The sun was going down, and a few lights were starting to flicker on in the refugee camps below.
He had started as a zero. He had fallen from the sky and become a god. Then he had lost it all. But standing there with a bruised rib and a metal stick, Xin realized he wasn't a zero anymore. He was the foundation.
"Let's go home," Xin said. "I think I’ve earned those noodles now."
- Writer
