Thirty-Three

The dune-buggy backed out of the house and entered the streets, which was mostly clear, save for people in armor walking about with weapons attached to them. They did not look like militants, but rather just slummers..

"Armor huh," Rose thought, tapping the steering wheel and wondering if she should get one as well.

While leather armor could realistically only protect against blades, metal armor was different. It could defend well under both the fire of pulses and sharp weaponry without needing to 'charge', but unlike the Mana Shield Emblem attached to her chest, it would weigh you down, restrict movement in some way, and would need to be repaired or even replaced if significantly damaged. The best armor could rival the best mana shields, and vice versa, however, in essence, people chose what suited them best—both on the fighting end and the monetary end. There were some that even used both if they could and Rose thought about possibly acquiring leather armor in the future. . .when her funds were not only 3.5k lixels.

Then again, all of this was only true when facing Guns and blades. When going against a Gear or a powerful spirit, it hardly mattered what you wore when they could simply burn through—unless you had counters in place.

It didn't take long for her to reach a point where she was forced to release the accelerator of her motor and break in the middle of the street.

"What. . .?"

There was a barricade. It was more of a large stone slab, really, but it served its purpose well. On either side were black motors that looked as if they had had quite the modifications done on them with thick metal armor and a turret slapped on their roof. There were also men in leather gear of black, carrying rifles. One of which came in front of her buggy.

"No vehicles allowed past this point, please step down and away from it."

He said. His voice was thick. She couldn't see his face past the protective helmet he wore, though she did see brown eyes below the glass of the thing.

She frowned.

". . .why should I trust you with my car? In fact, why should I listen to you?"

Her eyes narrowed, not quite liking the idea of being ordered. There was no fighting ahead, no sounds of clashes here, and she wondered what need there was to blockade an already tight road.

"Listen, girl, you can either do as you're told, or. . ."

He raised a hand into the air.

The guns aimed at her.

"Which will you choose?"

She could almost feel the smirk beneath his gaze.

"That's my student, I'm sure you can let her pass, right?" Just then, however, a recognizable voice drew her to pale blue hair and golden eyes.

"Samuel. . ."

The sword instructor smiled as he walked closer.

"Yes?"

The blockade was temporarily lifted and the car passed on.

"Sorry about that," Samuel Gardner sighed in the passenger seat with folded arms, there was a sword attached to his waist, it looked different to what he usually sparred with. "Walker's base is located within this section of the slums and he has as many entry points closed as possible. Soon, he might bar even more than just vehicles."

"I see." She nodded, looking him up and down.

He seemed calm in the middle of all this, there was a thin smile on his lips, and he listlessly watched as the scenery passed and she parked beside his dojo. Yet, as soon as they came upon the door, his expression scrunched to a frown.

"It's open. . ." He muttered under his breath, stepping into the building with widely open doors. No, it wasn't just open, the nobs to the doors had been broken off.

"Ah, there you are!" A man turned around with a smile.

Brunette hair, a clean suit, a perpetual smugness, and two men with swords to their sides. Rose recognized the group. They briefly stared at her but soon glanced off.

"Walker. . ." Samuel said with narrowing eyes, "I'm quite sure I left this door closed when I left, did I not?"

The man shrugged under his intense stare, walking closer. "I hope you can find it within you to forgive me, Samuel, but I was looking for you—and you can be hard to reach sometimes, were you ignoring my calls?"

"You broke my door and entered without my permission." Samuel's hand reached to his weapon and Rose watched at his side as he unsheathed the silver blade.

The guards at the other end also drew their weapons, to which the man waved them down.

"Keep your weapons, you can't fight him." He tched and glanced back. "I'm just here for a little chat, you must have realized the budding turbulence, right?"

"I'm not joining your war."

"I know you've given up fighting." Paul Walker smiled delightfully, he reached his hand to his side and there, one of his men placed down a green dagger.

He held the weapon up. It was the color of dirtied jade, cracked and bruised, but it was clearly in the shape of a dagger.

"But I think you'll be pleased with the information we found."

Samuel narrowed his eyes onto the object, his breath quickened noticeably, but his voice came out as calmly as always.

"Why should I trust you again?"

Paul chuckled and threw the weapon forward.

Samuel's hand flashed, he caught it in his hands, stared at it, then covered it with caution. Finally, he looked up.

"Rose, we'll have to see to this lesson another day."

— — —

"Oh my god, he actually called you his student?" Elsa's voice sounded in amazement.

"Yes. . .what of it?"

Rose was puzzled. How was that the most important takeaway from her narration?

"Wow. . ." Elsa sighed, "You really know nothing about him, huh?"

"Hmm?"

"Samuel Gardner. . .a former Instructor in Alos's Army, a master of Sword Armaments, he's the best sword instructor in the slums, period." She smiled faintly, enunciating the word 'period.' "There's rumors that he was kicked out of the military and barred from ever entering the city again. However, those are only rumors, and what really stands out most is that. . "

". . .when he arrived, he slaughtered his way through militants and almost killed Paul Walker. In the end, choosing to spare him."

Rose tilted her head at that notion. Samuel Gardner did not seem like a slaughterer, in fact, he had explicitly warned against trying to attack him with the intent to fight—he seemed like a man who would not charge into battle unless provoked. Though, she had to admit, there was definitely a noticeable friction between him and Walker. Then there was the green dagger that brought about a sudden change in attitude.

". . .he's that powerful?" She asked.

Elsa nodded matter-of-factly. "You know how young he looks right? He's actually 42 years old."

"I don't believe you." Rose blatantly said.

Elsa laughed. "Of course you won't, but it's true, he's had 2 Gene Advancements."

". . .what?"