The Discarded, Half-Eaten Apple Core New Life

Oh, how foolish and vain the plutocracy can be. The rich and wealthy survivors of Washington's upper echelon UV purge – This should make them germs, because we all know UV light is good at killing germs – were seduced with lavish living quarters on the land train. While the "rabble" joined the other survivors in Speranza, they had mansions on wheels somewhere past wagon 50. The front of the train was "reserved for military use", or so I lied to them.

But each of these wealthy families had almost 120,000 square feet to themselves. I fulfilled all of their requests and reshaped three half-decks for each one of them. The only thing I asked in return was for them to release their slaves and servants. The only responsibility I had was to keep them supplied. To solve that, I gave them a generous credit stipend. People in Speranza had come up with all sorts of prices for all sorts of things. They could, once a day, write down a list of what they needed. An OCR software would read the list and mail them an invoice with the final price (including VAT, luxury tax, shipping fees, and gift-wrapping fees - all mandatory) and their account balance. They reviewed the items and in the next hour they had what they asked for.

The reason I did that was simple. I didn't want them poisoning the well and trying to flex their aristocrat muscles in Speranza. From now on, they were Marshall's problem.

We set course for New York. We would hit some major cities along the way, pick up more refugees.

*

*

I hit some smaller communities and two big cities before reaching New York. My quest was 10% complete. Coming north during Winter was a good choice. People was more willing to escape to a warm place if they were freezing and rationing food.

> To evolve your species, you need to rescue 4,000,000 humans and keep them safe from harm for 1 year. No time limit.

> Current tally: 429,994 / 4,000,000

I sent a swarm of dirigibles ahead of me. They stayed out of harms' way and allowed me to scan the city with my beacon. Manhattan was a mess. The underground had some weird Infernali, a kind of plant monster with vines that stretched all over the subway system and through the tunnels to stretch all the way to Newark, Brooklyn, Queens, Yonkers, and even into the ocean. The best way I could describe the creature was to compare it to grass. The monster stretched like the root system of a grass plant, sprouting here and there with massive purple blades of grass that shot twenty feet into the air.

I attempted to cut its roots with a Hugging Momma's laser. While it offered some resistance, the root healed as soon as the laser stopped shining on a particular spot. The root was also not flammable and did not let out much steam. Incendiaries, railgun shells, buckets of napalm. I could burn part of its root system but the damn thing regrew as soon as the hazard was over. Cutting a section and putting walls around it only made the damn thing reconnect in other places. The aura was still the same.

A new World Boss. Covering more than 6 thousand square miles along three states and the ocean, this creature might really be unkillable. And yet I counted 150,000 people living in the area covered by the grass demon. So long the humans didn't get close to the leaves or roots, the Infernali left them alone.

As if.

If Jabberwock was a logistics / summoner unit, this grass was the Zerg Creep. Every here and then, a seed pod would grow on its roots, and then burst open, releasing more than a hundred Infernali each time. These monsters didn't leave people alone. They rushed toward the closest human aura and attacked relentlessly.

"Of course, Timmy, if you asked me 'But Skip, how people survive in there for so long if there's such a vicious monster hidden underneath their city'?"

"I didn't ask that, Contractor. I think you are talking to yourself again," the platypus answered.

"Amuse me," I replied.

"You creep me, Contractor. That's obvious. The grass monster is too predictable and pods take a while to grow."

"Exactly. The people in this city transformed this world boss into an Experience farm. That allowed the creature to grow unchallenged and now it is literally unkillable."

Larry smiled under his leathery beak, "Do you have a plan to kill the creature, contractor?"

"Of course not, Larry. I fully intend to kid... recruit as many people and get away from here. Killing that grass is a Sisyphean task."

"You were going to say kidnap, right?"

"No."

Larry glared at me with those beady black eyes.

"Maybe?"

He tapped his tail against the floor.

"Is it kidnapping when I'm saving them—"

"It is. You need to rely more on the power of friendship, contractor."

Larry was nothing if not a magical girl mascot. His plushies were very popular with the kids.

"Isn't my work with the rangers already enough?"

"Your involvement is minimal!"

"But this is the role I chose for myself. I am the silent mentor, the one sitting on the background, the Eminence in Shadows."

"You do that only because you are plotting to ditch the humans once you don't need them!"

"You hurt me with your candidness, Larry! It's time for some experiments."

"More boring computer stuff, contractor?" Larry whined.

"No. I'm going to test how this plant reacts to my divine powers. Let me swap my Perks. Consecrated Domain, Sacred Ground, and a rule. Infernali plants wither and die inside my Domain."

I selected one branch of demon grass and beamed my Domain upon it. The effects were immediate. The grass started to dry as it took a lot of DOT from the debuffs. It reacted by running away, pulling the root I was withering through hydrostatic tension and movement. It basically could squeeze its xylem vascular system and move the roots like a tentacle, albeit rather slowly.

I let it go. It was just a test and now I knew I could herd the demon grass into giving up territory. The state of the ground the root was in was not good. It was sucking all the life from the ground. Nutrients, moisture, and even Mana.

*

*

Could I kill the giant grass World Boss? Probably. Did I want to go through all that trouble? No. I sent Marshall, Róta, and the older team of rangers to New York, on a diplomatic mission.

Said mission would make a great interlude with character development and inter-human conflict, portraying the grim life of that post-apocalyptic civilization and their dependance on the monster that intended to kill their lives for survival. A truly touching interlude. Also, the conflict of interests between Marshall, Róta, and the New York Community leadership.

But now that you got the gist of it, I'm not bore myself to death telling how it went in details. It is already enough seeing it happen once.

They came back with some diplomatic envoys to visit Speranza. I didn't want to go as heavy-handed as I did in DC and I wanted to study the grass and work on my projects. The helicopter Mecha (yeah, a new model but it was just a transport) brought them back while I fiddled with my quantum computers and some ice enchantments, I bought from a specialized shop in Speranza.

The helicopter landed on the ancillary landing platform tracked vehicle I deployed for it. The land wagon didn't have a helipad as everything above the composition was occupied by trees and then the balloons that alleviated the weight of the composition.

The envoys entered my personal domain and immediately keeled over, convulsing. Their eyes rolled into the back of their heads and they frothed at the mouth. Soon, their abdomen started to bloat. And bloat. Were they pregnant? Their Mana hinted at some foreign energy inside them

No. Of course not. It took me 0.2 seconds to understand. I made sure the cameras were rolling. They were, as always. These were not babies but...

"Seeds." I mumbled.

"Yikes!" Larry winced.

"Everyone, get away!" I shouted on the platform speakers. My Core was in my Green Energy chamber, churning Mana.

"Svallin's Shade!" Róta cast a spell and a dome sprang into existence around the envoys.

They had Infernali seeds growing inside of them. I was testing on the demon grass but didn't swap my Perks or revoke the rule. Now that they were inside my Domain, they were suffering the consequences of their chosen diet. Who would've imagined, in their wildest dreams, that eating demon grass fruit would be so detrimental to a healthy and long life?

While I mused, the seeds reached maturity and burst out of their bellies. It didn't blow up like balloons, no. Roots covered in gore and blood pierced their skin from the inside, shooting out into the world and trying to reach out toward the people. Instead, the roots slammed into Róta's shield. When they couldn't pierce through because the Valkyrie was paying the upkeep to regenerate the shield after each blow, they attempted to dig through the platform. Which were Dungeon walls. No way they would break through the magical armor.

When nothing worked, the roots bent and dug back into the humans. Whether they were their former hosts or not mattered little. The roots entangled with one another, draining the remaining lifeforce of the envoys, keeping them alive and suffering for longer even though they should be dead with that many holes in their bodies.

A symbiotic demon who nurtured their hosts and victims to make them stronger before consuming them. When the envoys finally expired, the grass could no longer regenerate the damage my passive DOT effects were causing and shriveled. Only once I felt the resistance of their auras vanish and I had disintegrated their biomass did I let Róta lift her shield.

Two of the rangers had vomited. Marshall was stiff. I explained what happened.

"Do you think everyone in the city..." The man became queasy despite his Attributes.

"Yes," I said through a speaker. "Everyone who ate the fruit from this demon grass is infected. We can consider them to be dead corpses walking."

"Can you help them?"

"I don't know. We can try surgery to remove the seeds before they sprout. They obviously react to danger as we saw. I need people, Marshall. I'm willing to devote the resources to find a solution."

"The humans will think we killed their ambassadors," Róta pointed out.

"Let them. Marshall, you fix the diplomacy situation. I already uploaded the video footage to your tablet PC. It won't do much because nobody there will admit they have parasite demon seeds inside of them. Róta, would you mind working as Marshall's bodyguard?"

"Your wish is my command, my Lord," She dipped her head and replied solemnly.

Then you two ride the helicopter back. I will use my powers to trigger the seeds if they become hostile. Right now, I could claim the entire city as part of my Dungeon.

"Please let me know first." Marshall warned.

"Take a drone with you. I'll keep contact."

I made a drone backpack for Marshall.

*

*

While Marshall and Róta explained what happened to the envoys, which would also make a cool interlude, I was determined to do some gardening, kill a few thousand weeds.

This demon grass couldn't be allowed to spread. I had no doubt it would cover the entire east coast in a decade or so. It wouldn't stop there. No, sir.

I needed to kill it with fire. If nuclear fire was unavailable, then the hottest fire I could make. Plasma. Plasma flamers. Blessed be the cleansing plasma burning upon the heathen.

> Your knowledge and training have improved your Bless Skill to Rank VI — By spending 10% more Resources decorating weapons or vehicles you make with symbols of your faith; they count as minor relics to your faithful. Relic weapons deal (3*Rank)% more damage when wielded by an empowered believer. Relic vehicles are (2*Rank) tougher.

I was spending a ton of DM every day blessing every one of my followers without missing one. It was about time it gained a rank. Now, it was time to make murder weapons to kill some filthy Xenos. May my holy flamers cleanse the impurity in my name.

The plasma flamer could work with air alone but a catalyst would make the phase change smoother. The process was simple. Compress air and some catalysts in a magnetic-sealed chamber, superheat the mixture, compress more, heat more, until the matter changed states and became a plasma. Heat it a bit more, pump in more gas and catalysts to keep the chamber filled, and when the user pulled the trigger, the gun would accelerate a portion of the plasma into a magnetic field somewhat similar to that of a railgun and fire a shot of plasma along with some discharge. The magnetic accelerators would force the plasma to form a vortex ring, a toroidal (that's a donut shape) mass of spinning plasma that would retain its shape and cohesion as it traveled at high speeds toward the target. Muzzles would spray high-velocity fuel gel along the plasma shot, to generate even more heat.

This wasn't the plasma pistol of Science Fiction. This was a plasma flamer. The toroidal ring would break down and spray the plasma forward but at least this gave the flamer a modicum of range. Even with that, the weapon had a very short reach. It was meant to burn things in close proximity.

I also adapted Grilled Tex-Mex to withstand more heat. Scaling the weapon for giant Mecha use would be... tough. I couldn't just double or triple the size of everything and roll with it. Physics-Chan snickered from her corner, savoring that small victory.