The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 52: No one likes a smart ass

Mason considered heading straight towards the nymph tree to clear the dungeon causing it to rot. But for some combination of selfish and protective reasons, he wanted to be there when Rebecca was awake.

He also decided if he was going to clear the great tree dungeon, at the very least he should bring Blake so the pampered idiot got some real fighting experience. It was all well and good to raise levels ruling a town and messing with people’s minds, but sooner or later he’d have to actually learn to fight and kill.

“Come on, boy,” Mason picked up his speed and encouraged Streak to follow. The wolf loped along with easy strides, seemingly without much difficulty. Mason decided he may have been an outcast, but he was sure as hell no runt of the litter.

If anything Mason expected the old alpha knew he’d be competition one day, and without the mother alive to tamp it down, that competitive instinct had been winning out.

Nature was harsh. Sometimes cruel. But Mason was beginning to understand the ‘role’ he was supposed to play was as some kind of mitigating force. To help the creatures of this strange new world find their places with less tragedy and death than they would without him.

Despite knowing it was some kind of forced feeling from a robot overlord, or at least a push in that direction, he found it a strangely compelling purpose. It was almost as if he’d understood, for the first time in his life, that strength was more valuable than just protecting those you loved.

The few miles to Nassau flew by.

Mason stopped just outside the main gate to find Streak at his side, tongue wagging along with his tail. He grinned and knelt to pet the creature, taking a strip of dried venison from his pocket. “Good boy. You’ll be the fastest runner in the pack when I’m through with you.”

It snapped the meat greedily, and Mason supposed he’d have to train him not to eat until commanded, or else he might start eating civilians when he got bored, too.

Fortunately he’d regained enough mana in the run for another command or two, and summoned the energy.

Follow me unless I say otherwise, he willed, not sure exactly how it worked but knowing it did, harm nothing until I allow it.

The creature’s ears flattened as the magic overpowered its young mind, but Mason could tell it would obey. Hopefully.

The tower guard panicked as he saw the animal until Mason stepped in front with his hands raised. It was mid-afternoon now and Nassau was bustling with activity. Smoke rose from the cookhouse. Voices and laughter echoed from the mess hall.

Most everything inside ran on electricity, the source of which was some kind of generator that none of them could explain. Mason was concerned because sooner or later, it seemed to him, generator’s ran out of fuel.

But Blake said somehow the whole town was taking in energy and replenishing its power. The water from their well was high pressure and filtered. And their storage actually replenished supplies, literally creating food and water in the form of various high tech cans. It was rather amazing, Mason had to admit.

He stepped past the staring guard and through the now open gate, intending to walk straight to Rebecca. Blake found him halfway.

“There he is!” Blake stretched out his arms then raised a questioning brow at Mason’s pet. “Did the cold, mighty Mason feel so bad for killing all those wolves he brought one home?”

“I didn’t kill any,” Mason sighed, not sure how to explain. “But they’ll leave us alone. They’re moving far to the North.”

Blake grinned. “Well you are just full of surprises. I don’t much care how you did it, brother, if you say it’s dealt with, I trust you. But, uh,” Blake looked around at the several staring players and civilians in the streets. He lowered his voice. “Am I correct in assuming you want to bring a man eating mutant wolf into the settlement?”

“I can’t just leave him outside the walls. And he’s not…” Mason sighed. “He’s perfectly tame.”

Blake blinked and waited until Mason met his eyes.

“You shouldn’t try to lie, it’s actually embarrassing. So what do I do if it eats someone?”

“It won’t.” Mason glanced at the panting wolf, its eyes roaming the settlement with curious excitement. He wanted to go see Haley and Rebecca and exit this conversation, and he felt his impatience like a strained muscle. “Also, I technically won this town, and saved your life like a week ago. So there’s that.”

Blake winced and rolled his eyes. “I wondered how long it would take to remind me of that. Fine. Keep your pet. Can anyone besides you control it?”

Mason felt his face scrunch in an ‘I’m obviously about to lie again’ way, then he shrugged.

“To be determined.”

Blake took a long, exasperated breath, then flicked a hand in dismissal. “Since we’re doing each other favors, I’d like Kiaan to go on a long-range exploration mission. And I need Haley to help negotiate all these new contracts.” He wiggled his brow. “If you don’t mind her upright for a few afternoons.”

Mason fought the blush and started walking. Kiaan was Mason’s only civilian contract, other than Haley—basically a mercenary scout he wouldn’t mind having far away where he could do no harm. Exploration sounded perfect.

“Don’t take your sexual frustration out on me. But yes. It’s fine.”

He tried to walk past but Blake stopped him and kept his voice low.

“I think we can expect more people coming down the river from the South. I’ll use the players we’ve got and we’ll try and recruit more. But it wouldn’t hurt to have you around. Are you planning on heading out again?”

Mason almost answered yes, but then realized if he stayed it meant more time with Haley and Rebecca, and he found himself torn. It was an excuse, he knew, especially since Blake and his people desperately needed to learn to handle problems without him. But it was a very tempting excuse…

“Three days,” he said, like it was a hardship. “I’ll give you three days.” He jabbed a finger in Blake’s face. “Then you and I and one or two peons of your choosing are going to go to a dungeon I need cleared. And you are going to learn how to tie your own shoes. Understand?”

Blake smiled and spread his hands for peace. “As you say. Shoe tying. Potty training. The whole nine yards.”

Mason rolled his eyes, then whistled for Streak as he marched towards his house.

“She’s not there,” Blake called, and Mason turned to find a typical know-it-all grin on his brother’s face. “The new girl. She’s in the infirmary. Faster healing, you see. And she needed some fluids.” His smile widened. “In case that’s what you were thinking to help her with.”

Mason felt his flush deepen beneath his brother’s damned insightful gaze. He now either had to walk on towards his house, or turn almost entirely around towards the infirmary.

Eventually, he turned, trying not to watch his brother’s grin stretch from ear to ear.

“No one likes a smart ass,” he muttered as he walked by.

* * *

Mason felt an extremely annoying fluttering in his gut as he walked into the infirmary. A slightly older, female civilian whose name he couldn’t remember stiffened and actually bowed as he walked through the door.

“Master Mason.” She plastered a smile over what might have been a terrified reaction. “Can we help you? Are you hurt?”

“What? No.” Mason flinched at the awkwardness. “You don’t need to call me Master. And I never need an infirmary. Is Rebecca in there?”

“Yes, Mast…Mason. She’s recovering inside. Would you like me to fetch her?” The woman’s eyes locked onto Streak and her face went pale. Mason frowned because he realized the animals had damn near killed her and her whole group. He knelt down and met its eyes, then pointed at the floor.

“Stay here. Understand? Stay right here.” He dropped a piece of venison to the floor and pushed the animal flat a few times until it seemed to understand.

“Here? Umm,” the woman backed away until she hit the desk. “I’m not sure I’m the best qualified to observe the, um, animal. Wouldn’t it be better, Master Mason? Master Mason?”

Mason walked deeper into the infirmary, where he heard both male and female voices before he saw the sources. Rebecca was awake and only barely covered in a kind of grey hospital gown. Somehow she made it look good. She sat upright against a layer of pillows, laughing as she spoke with a young nurse beside her bed. Her long, wavy brown hair bounced and slipped down her shoulders, her freckled face curled in a beautiful, wide smile. Mason decided she had the kind of simple, natural beauty that didn’t need a touch of makeup, and her gown struggled and failed to cover her hips and legs without looking like a slit dress.

“Mason,” the girl’s brown eyes locked onto his from across the room.

He looked at the wide-eyed young nurse, and the still unconscious older player on a bed across, and began to feel somewhat out of place.

“I’m sorry,” he stopped. “I shouldn’t have come. I should just let you rest.”

“No. Please.” One of Rebecca’s hands tightened around the sheet over her legs, and the nurse looked between them and raised her eyebrows.

“I, uh, need to get some stuff. From the supply room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The girls exchanged a look, then the nurse walked off as Mason approached.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he said, deciding he really should have had an actual plan.

“Likewise,” the girl smiled shyly. “They told me you went out after the wolves, all by yourself. That’s…incredibly brave.”

“Oh.” Mason shrugged, deciding suddenly it was very brave. “I couldn’t just let them attack your people. Anyway. They won’t bother us anymore.”

Rebecca shook her head in wonder. She reached out and took Mason’s hand, flushing a bit pink as she did. “Thank you, for saving us. For saving me.”

He met her big, brown eyes and swallowed, vaguely surprised at himself for the reaction. The truth was she was exactly his type, and if they were back home in the pre-robot world he’d have likely spent a lot of time staring at her but avoiding actual interaction. Post-apocalyptic Mason, however, was trying not to imagine himself tearing off that gown and climbing on top of her.

“No problem,” he cleared his throat. “I guess I should have brought you here instead of my house. I wasn’t really thinking.”

She smiled, and still hadn’t let go of his hand. Hers were warm and rougher than he would have expected. This was a girl who’d actually done some work in her life.

“I don’t remember much,” she shrugged, and the gown slipped a little off one shoulder. “The last few weeks were so terrible…and then...” She flushed a little pink again, and Mason decided he wanted to see her flush entirely red as she screamed his name. “Then I just remember you picking me up, and um, carrying me. I sort of remember a shower? And a woman’s voice, which I guess was Haley.” Here she smiled. “She’s so wonderful. She said she was your, um, assistant?”

Mason nodded, relishing every moment of contact, trying not to give anything away.

“Anyway,” Rebecca smiled. “She brought me here. She said I was under your protection now and that I shouldn’t worry about a thing.”

Again Mason nodded, then shrugged to cover his pleasure at the thought of the girl feeling safe because of him. “I suppose anyone in town could say the same.” Then he met her eyes, and ran a thumb across the girl’s wrist. “But she’s right. You don’t need to worry.”

Rebecca still didn’t pull away, and Mason felt a vaguely schoolboyish excitement and refused to think this was anything but flirting.

“Uungh.” The old player on the cot groaned and started to try and sit up. Mason could have killed him.

“Phuong!” Rebecca shouted, and the pretty nurse ran back into the room with a handful of bandages and a stethoscope to check on the old man.

“Can you hear me?” she said through a happy smile and watery eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Like a cat. With one less life,” the old man muttered and grinned with half his teeth. The nurse checked his pulse, then wrapped her arms around him and wept as he patted her back. “It’s alright, Miss Aila, I’m alive. I see we made it? That must be thanks to Miss Rebecca.”

“Yes,” Aila the nurse agreed as she wiped her eyes. “She got us all the way to a town. We’re safe now, Phuong. We made it. This is Mason…he’s…”

“He’s the one who really saved us,” said Rebecca, some wetness in her eyes too as she looked on the old man. “Well, and you. I didn’t do much of anything.”

The old man threw his legs over the cot with a groan but surprising speed, then turned to Mason and extended a hand. Mason stepped forward and shook it.

“As humble as she is beautiful,” grinned the older Asian. “And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving those in my charge. I owe you a great debt.”

Mason smiled, liking the man instantly. “You owe me nothing. Except a good word with Rebecca, if you’ve got that kind of power.”

The old man groaned when he laughed, holding Mason’s hand with a grip as firm as any Mason had ever encountered, despite his wounds and seeming fragility. “Dangerous. Useful. Forthright. That’s all the word you need, I think.” He turned and winked at an increasingly blushing Rebecca, and Mason couldn’t help but smile.

“Now, if it’s not too much trouble,” said Phuong. “Could someone find a naked old man some clothes, and a glass of water?”

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