Interlude - Mizu the Angry - Part Two B "Mizu," Mercer hissed. The woman on the chair's eyes opened, they glowed a faint bluish purple. "Oh, you're here," she said. "I thought I heard someone coming. You lot aren't very quiet, you know?" "What the fuck are you doing here?" Mizu asked. She dropped her rifle, letting her sling do its job so that it hung by her side. Her hands lit up as she cast a pair of quick first and second levels spells, channeling her magic with the growing, latent rage in her gut. The bitch, Deadline, swung her legs around, then slowly came to stand up. Fuck, she was kind of tall. "The Storm Chasers?" she asked, ignoring Mizu, which just pissed her off more. "Interesting. I wouldn't have expected the link between Bright Lightning and Synthcorp." "Can you identify yourself?" Mercer asked. "Deadline," the woman replied calmly, her mask distorting the word. "Eleven of you? Yeah, that might do. Are you here to secure the portal or clear it?" "We're the ones asking questions!" Mizu snapped. Deadline eyed her, then returned her gaze to Mercer. Mizu wanted to melt her stupid face off. "Don't ignore me!" "I'm not," Deadline replied, but she never looked away from Mercer. Then... she yawned. Climbing up to her toes, she stretched her arms up and her entire body shook. Mizu's eyes dipped to where her low-riding pants revealed more of her leotard, and then back up. Deadline was looking at her again, and she felt herself flushing again. She fed that to her anger too. "What are you doing here?" Mizu asked. "Believe it or not, I was just passing through. Then there was a... kerfuffle in town. So I investigated and found myself defending some civilians from a breach. When I came over to seal it, I was impressed to discover that Synthcorp had been keeping a breached portal active in their compound. I'm afraid that we're going to have to shut it, however. I made it this far, but going further is a bit beyond me. I can't sneak all the way to the boss' room from here. And my ammunition is limited." "That's my gun," Mizu shouted. "Be less loud," Deadline snapped right back, all of the amusement gone from her voice and Mizu flinched back. Then Deadline was calm again. "You'll find that the serial numbers indicate that it's very much my gun. A cute souvenir from our first meeting." "Drop it, Mizu," Mercer said. She didn't want to drop it! That was a thousand-dollar revolver right there. "Tell you what, Mizu, if you're a good girl, I'll give it back to you," Deadline said. "What's the situation up ahead?' Mercer asked, moving right past what she'd said. "Have you scouted the entire portal?" "Much of it," Deadline said. "I've killed... hmm, I didn't keep count. Sorry. But I've killed a number of orcs. Unfortunately, there are about forty of them in the next room over. Several of them have shotguns. Most are otherwise armed and armoured." "Shotguns?" Clive asked. "From the teams culling this place, I'm assuming," Deadline said. "They're not well-practiced with the guns, so they're a minimal threat, only... it's hard to hit me. There are a lot of you, however." "Noted," Mercer said. "And the boss?" "In their room," Deadline said. She slid the revolver into a thigh sheath, pulled the sword from next to the chair and slid it into a loop on her belt, then she kicked something up from the ground and caught it with ease. A shotgun? It looked small, but kind of nasty, and it had been hidden from view the entire time. "Can you be silent, or are you all loud?" she asked. "We're loud," Mercer replied. "No good. There are forty orcs in that room, but more elsewhere in the portal. The noise will attract them." Mercer hummed. "Our best bet might be to find a chokepoint and take them out as they come." "Tch," Mizu said. Mercer was always so scared of taking initiative. "Or we walk in there and blow them all up," she said. To her surprise, Deadline nodded. "I'm more inclined to go with that plan," she said. "Seriously?" Clive asked. "There is no growth without risk. And no victory without destruction." What the hell did that even mean? Deadline hummed. "Are any of you good at large-area magics? We could wipe out a number of the orcs in one attack. My own magic isn't good with such large numbers." "I can burn them all," Mizu said. She wasn't sure how big the room was, but she was confident in herself, and pissed off enough to spit fire. "That sounds risky," Mercer said. "I'll keep little Mizu safe," Deadline replied. "On my word and name, not one hair on her head will be so much as singed by enemy action." Mercer frowned, brows drawing together, he started to shake his head, and she could see it already. He'd refuse, because this wasn't how it was done. It wasn't protocol. "I'll do it," Mizu said. "Fuck off with the no," Mizu said. She glared up at her squad leader. "If we do things your way we'll be here all night, and we're in a breach, time is important." "This way," Deadline said as she moved towards the door. Mercer seemed ready to object, but she jumped ahead, following the woman over to the door which she held closed. "Go on?" Mizu said with a gesture. "Your lights," Deadline said. "We'll be spotted, and some of them have itchy trigger fingers. We've made enough noise as it is." Mizu pursed her lips, then flicked the light on her gun off. She turned towards Mercer, who was stewing, which sucked for him. "Come on in once the heat dies down. I'll leave some uncooked for you." Deadline opened the door and slipped into the next room. Mizu hesitated, then followed when it didn't look like a trap. What was she even doing? "He's going to be annoyed," Deadline said. "But personally, I'm not impressed by him. There's caution, then there's foolhardiness." "Yeah," Mizu said. The company was going to dock her pay again. Fuck. "Focus, little Mizu," Deadline said. She spun and glared at the woman, then cursed to herself as she had to look up. Shit wasn't fair. Damned tall Americans, with their stupid height and soft eyes and... bitch. "Shut up," she hissed. She could barely see Deadline in the near darkness, but the woman still looked amused. Then she pointed ahead, and Mizu refocused. They were on a small stone landing above a large section of the room that was a half-floor below. The space was held up by a dozen wooden pillars, each one like a trunk. A few torches in still torch-holders were spread around, lighting up the orcs. The many, many orcs. Some were on crude couches, others were sitting directly on large blankets. Most were busy, but it looked like menial labour stuff. Fixing armours and sewing and a few were sparring in one corner. The orcs hadn't noticed them yet, but it wouldn't take forever, even if they were in a darker, more shadowy corner. There were too many eyes not to see them. Deadline carefully brought that shotgun of hers to her shoulder. "Fire away," she said. "Was that a pun?" Mizu asked. "No. I abhor those," Deadline said. "Just use your magic. Take out those you can, then we'll see if your team cares to help us mop up." Mizu grunted, then focused. This would need a big spell, and she knew exactly the one. Licking her lips, she closed her eyes and split her focus. Part of her started to channel magic through the spell-kanji linked to her soul. Another was focused on the anger. She thought of the company, docking her pay, not giving her the opportunity to grow, only keeping her around because she was a hammer they could use, but obviously not caring. She thought of the thing that made her burst that first time, that injustice, the gnawing, growing, painful discovery that there was nothing she could do, legally, to have things set right. It was an old scar, but it still bled, and she sucked that blood and splashed it over her spell. It was third level, something she'd picked up before moving to America. She raised both hands, and the air around her hummed, then warmed up more and more. Her magic flooded the channels of her core and shot through the formation lines that made up the spell. Some of the orcs noticed. It was too damned late. "Ikari no Jutsu: Honō no Arashi," she intoned as she cast. She didn't scream it, didn't yell it. Some angers weren't meant for sudden outbursts. Some angers just needed to grow. The air ahead of them started to move. The wind shifted, air pulled up by the sudden warmth. Then small flickering lights appeared across the rooms. Embers that quickly snuffed out. It was pretty, in a way. Cherry blossoms of potential fire. Potential that was realized. The number of embers grew, and grew. The wind shifted harder. There were loud whumps as hot air expanded, and with that motion the flurries of fire danced. Ten thousand petals of flame. They started to land on the orcs and the confused grunting turned into screaming. The amount of fire motes only continued to grow. More and more of them, until she couldn't see across the room. It was a storm of hail and fire. "Beautiful," Deadline said. The orcs that were struck burned. Each mote was like a white-hot coal pulled from the forge, they spit and hissed and burned through flesh and cloth. Magic fed them. Hers and the ambient magic in the air. The hissing was only drowned by the man-like screaming of the orcs. Then the storm abated and she found herself almost slumping as her magic nearly ran out. Ah, it was good she was in a portal. The orcs hadn't been wiped out. Some had found cover, others had used dead companions to shield themselves. But all were burned. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. "Mercer," Deadline called back. "Come on, we need to mop this up, quickly." The Storm Chasers came in, and she jumped to help, pushing past her exhaustion. Gunshots rang out, and she winced as an orc took a shot that crashed into a wall several feet above her. Fast as lightning, Deadline brought her gun around and blew that orc's head off. Then she started taking quick, precise shots, pumping her gun between each. The Storm Chasers added to the noise, and she found herself looking for targets too. Soon, the room was a charnel house of dead orcs. "Let's keep moving," Deadline said. She lowered her gun, then flipped it over and started to casually reload it. "Just the boss left." "We need to talk," Mercer said. "We can talk after this is done," Deadline replied coldly. "The boss is just ahead." When Deadline moved, they followed. What choice did they have? She was walking with the kind of confidence and lack of fucks to give that Mizu had only seen in like, some B-rankers. Wait, could she be that? But then, no, she wouldn't need Mizu to help. While some C and B-rankers could control their auras, it wasn't to this extent. The boss room was down a long corridor and around a corner, a corridor that stretched on for a long ways. They ended up having to jog to keep up with Deadline, who walked at a fast pace with her stupid long legs. Some orcs came out, and she casually shot them in the face from twenty metres off without slowing down. When a larger orc in armour charged, Deadline dropped her gun so that it slung by her side, pulled out her sword, then charged back. Mizu just watched as she used a quick, weak spell to blast the orc in the face, distracting it long enough to cut it across the throat with a quick swipe. She was cleaning off her sword and walking on long before the orc had finished dying. Clive shot it twice, just in case. Mizu was starting to feel better by the time they came around a corner and found Deadline already waiting by the boss room door. She glanced at Mercer. He looked concerned. But Mercer always looked concerned. He had that kind of face to him. She suspected that he was a little more concerned than usual, though and... yeah, she got it. The memory of Deadline grabbing her from behind and pinning her in place was one she had tried hard to forget, and yet it was always still fresh. "I don't know what to expect here," Deadline said. "But if the boss is a larger, meaner orc, I think we can just shoot him a few dozen times and have this end." The boss was, as Deadline said, a bigger orc. He towered over them in the middle of the room. Three metres tall, with massive shoulders and corded muscles, wearing a heavy breastplate of soot-darkened steel. Then they shot him full of holes. The Storm Chaser team weren't fools. They came in with the gear and equipment to take out a lower C-ranked portal, and this boss wasn't there yet. The treasure, from what Mizu could see, included an orc-sized war-drum made of pale leather stretched and held by iron bands and a long banner rolled up into a neat bundle. The E-rankers secured it while the rest of them stood around by the exit portal. "Should we discuss the distribution of loot?" Deadline asked. "Equal shares," Mercer said. "Sure," Deadline replied. "I get one, you all get one. Equal. I'll send the Storm Chasers my invoice." "What?" Mizu asked. "That's not how equal works!" "It is when I did half the work," Deadline replied. "Fine then. Thirds." "Thirds?" Mercer asked. "I'm not sure you should get any more than one seventeenth." Deadline stared at him without saying anything for a very long time, the buzzing exit portal just a step away from her, spitting and hissing in her stead. "Thirds," she repeated. "One for me, one for your group, and one for Miss Mizu here, to compensate for her work." Mizu perked up a little at that. "We can see about that," Mercer said. "Maybe after our discussion?" "Fine," Deadline said. "Let's go have that elsewhere. We're not gaining much standing here." That wasn't strictly true. Standing in a portal world was a great way to grow one's magic, though it was admittedly pretty slow. Not much better than eating a magical meal in most cases. Still, when she stepped through and disappeared, it started the countdown for the portal to destabilize. They still had time, however. "We're going to have to talk about your behaviour," Mercer said. Mizu crossed her arms. "Kuso," she muttered. "What about it? No one was even hurt. We barely used any ammunition. She'd have probably cleared the whole thing out herself." Updates are released by NovelHub(.)net "What, are you on her side now?" he asked. "That bitch?" she exploded. "No! I hate her!" "We'll talk about this later," he finally said, and she knew he would. Dammit! It was with a fire churning in her gut that she left the portal with the others to find Deadline casually talking to the squad made to wait just outside of the portal. She was pissed, as always, but that giddy feeling of magic rushing into her from a completed portal made her tingle all over, and her magical reserves filled up almost instantly. It made her feel alive, like she was progressing. Split so many ways, it wasn't that much, but it was better than the average E-rank portal they had to handle. Hell, from the way it felt, it was better than the average D-rank. "We should have our discussion with Mister Dudley," Mercer said. "He's a representative of Synthcorp." Deadline looked to him, then shrugged a shoulder. "Very well," she said. Mizu followed. Mostly she was curious, and she kind of wanted to see what would happen next. Deadline was about to be in an entire heap of shit. Too bad it would come from that asshole suit and not herself. The suit in question was waiting not too far from the compound's entrance, his guards standing nearby. "Has the situation been resolved?" he asked, only sparring Deadline a glance. "It has," Mercer said. "That was impressively quick," the suit said. "Now. Ma'am, we must address several issues. You have trespassed on Synthcorp property. Put plainly, you've interfered with an ongoing operation and unlawfully entered our site, possibly with the intent to steal corporate secrets. I will have to insist that you surrender to our personnel for a full debrief and sign several non-disclosure agreements." Deadline blinked, slowly, languidly, and Mizu felt her vindictive smile fading. She didn't seem afraid of the lawyer. She looked more like a cat being threatened by a one-winged bird. "And your name is?" she asked. "Daryl Dudley, Foxfire Legal, special situations division, attached to Synthcorp," the lawyer said. "Mister Dudley, then. That was a very cute threat you just delivered. I'm afraid that I'm not very receptive to those." Mizu noticed Dudley's troopers tense up, which caused the Storm Chasers to tense, which had the nearby police, all normies, looking around in confusion as well. "Ma'am. You have violated our protocols. You must understand that there are consequences," Dudley said. Deadline took a breath, then raised a hand in a one-moment gesture. "Ah, good. In that case, as per the authority given to me under article seven, section nine, of the Public Safety and Portal Management Act, I was both empowered and, of course, obligated to lend assistance in clearing out this threat. I was following the law, Mister Dudley. You and the corporation you are representing, however... I noticed that Synthcorp had an entire factory dedicated to extracting materials from an unregistered C-ranked portal within its property." Dudley wasn't liking that. "You had no business--" "I did. The portal was contained post-breach, a clear violation of dozens of security procedures and laws. And I imagine that you haven't been properly assessed for security in a while either. For that matter, this entire site is one massive mess of violations. Have you even been paying the proper taxes and fees on material acquisition from the portal? I imagine you haven't, seeing as how it was unregistered." "Miss... you are stepping on thin ice," Dudley said. Deadline tapped her chest, where she had a small plate over her sternum. Was that a body cam? Mizu hadn't noticed it in the portal. "I've sent a copy of the footage I captured to my representative." "What?" Dudley asked. He went white. "I should inform you that you're being recorded as well," Deadline purred. "You have no right," he said. "Maybe I don't. In which case, you may contact my legal council at Gilmore Crow and associates in Fortress ENE and politely ask them to surrender and delete the... evidence I have sent them. Seeing as how it was acquired under dubious pretenses, I'm sure they'll be perfectly accommodating. In fact, if you have any more toothless legal threats to throw my way, you can send them through my representatives there as well. On that note, I've wasted enough of my time cleaning your mess. Good day." Mizu swallowed. Part of her, a big part, wanted to smile. Seeing the corpo fuck all white and sweaty felt good. Then Deadline turned and stared at her. "Miss Aokawa," she said. Mizu stiffened as Deadline approached. The woman slid the revolver out of her thigh pocket, flipped it around, and presented it handle-first. "Did you want this back? It's still warm from my touch." "N-no!" Mizu snapped. "Fuck off. The less I see of you the better." "Hmm," Deadline said. "Too bad. You're kind of cute. Have a good one, then." Mizu glared, her face red... with anger. Yeah, anger. That bitch! Just coming in here, and embarrassing her, and then just walking out? She wanted to scream!