Chapter 17: My Fair Lady
âIt feels strange actually being outside again.â Emma commented, as she kicked a fallen tree trunk out of the way for having the audacity to block the road ahead. âI know we only spent three days or so in the Dungeon, but itâs nice to see the real sky again. The fake stars just didnât look the same, you know?â
[Astronomical charts from the Dungeon Core match the currently visible layout in the sky. Any issues arising are most likely due to imperfect replication of scale and perspective, leading to an uncanny valley effect emerging from the simulation.]
âLike all the 3D animation thatâs been popping up in recent years. Creepy as hell, some of it.â
Grimacing at the reminder, Emma changed the current song, no longer in the right mood for listening to Studio Ghibliâs Greatest Hits. Before, she would have been happy to head off-road to circumvent obstacles, but doing so after night fell was a different proposition altogether. Emma had already wasted some time doubling back after getting turned around in a small valley, and was now staying firmly on the dual carriageway heading due west, dealing with any obstacles as they arose.
[Fox - Level 1]
âOh hey, more wildlife, I was wondering where they all went off to.â Emma murmured, barely managing to see the small canid scampering across the road, disappearing into the nearby undergrowth soon after.
Her minimap on the other hand had no trouble tracking the creature, though the small red dot soon also vanished off of the visible radius.
âTheyâre all pretty docile though; no enemy attacks at all, even at night. I dunno, I was expecting some more combat by now?â
[Whilst not truly intelligent, even lesser Demons are capable of rudimentary threat analysis. At Level 4, the weaklings know better than to try anything with you. You also wonât get much EXP for slaughtering the weak, so donât get too hung up over it.]
âRight. Eyes on the prize then.â
Returning her attention to the road ahead, Emma tried to gauge how long sheâd been walking. Frustratingly, not a single working clock had yet been found to provide an accurate frame of reference, preventing her System from integrating the time directly into its display. Digital clocks had been fried, whereas few analogue specimens were used in the modern day, and the one working piece of electronics thus far - the old iPod Classic - had thought it was still 2007, which was problematic for a number of reasons. Thus left dependent on the passage of the sun to tell the time, Emma estimated that sheâd been walking for nearly ten hours now. Even taking into account the time spent doubling back, she shouldnât be far from her destination; predictably, the Heavens saw this as the perfect opportunity to piss all over her hopes of arrival by ushering in a torrent of rain so heavy that she could barely see the next step forward.
âNever mind, Iâm going to bed.â Emma grumbled, looking for a handy place to shelter nearby.
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Finding an abandoned bus station, she settled along one of the long benches to get some sleep and await better conditions for travel.
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Unfortunately it was still raining in the morning, though not quite as heavily, allowing Emma to resume her journey. Soon, her estimate was validated as she spotted a sign by the road, proudly announcing that she was now approaching the town of Lower Swell, a perfectly respectable name that has never once been used as a euphemism. A small town with a population perennially in the mid triple digits, nothing of note happened here on a regular basis and the residents all liked it that way. Emma had always thought it a strange location to have an office, based in an old country estate on the edge of town; but if Felixâs suspicions were true and her dadâs work involved national security, then this obscurity may well have been the entire point.
âWhy havenât we seen any other street signs?â Emma suddenly realized. âThatâs the first one this entire trip, and weâve been passing through some pretty undamaged areas lately.â
[Huh. You know, now that you mention it, thatâs a really strange sign.]
Facepalming at the Systemâs response, Emma summoned Epitaph to her side, wanting to be ready in case of trouble as the first houses became visible at the edge of her vision. The streets were empty, though that didnât tell her much given nobody in their right mind would be out in the downpour. Approaching the first row of semi-detached houses, she noted that the gardens were well kept, the flowerpots upright and even the bins look to have been emptied recently. Wanting to gather more information but not knowing anyone in town, Emma decided the most expedient path was to let fate take the wheel and try knocking on the nearest door.
âComing!â
Someone called in response to Emmaâs three sharp raps on the door. As it opened, she was greeted by an elderly man, struggling with a pair of thick-framed glasses.
âGood morning!â He greeted her cheerfully once his sight was restored. âAre you here for the Medieval fair? Youâre a bit early, but I must say that thatâs a fabulous costume, you may well win the top prize this year!â
âThank you,â Emma replied awkwardly, unable to think of anything better at that moment. âIâve put a lot of work into this armor.â
That was even true, from a certain perspective.
âCome in, come in, get out of that dreadful rain, dear! Would you like some tea?â
âPlease.â Emma agreed, seeing no reason to refuse when her host didnât even register as a threat on the System.
Led inside, she was offered a spare towel to wipe off her armor, before being ushered onward to the living room table.
âAre you sure you donât want to remove the armor?â He offered. âMust not be comfortable, sitting in that.â
âRemoval is a very cumbersome process,â Emma demurred. âBest just to keep it on, as I wonât be taking too much of your time. It even comes with a drinking straw, see?â
Extending said straw was sufficient to rebuff her host, who went off to the kitchen to put the kettle on - an old metal model on a fireplace, Emma noted. Glancing around, she couldnât find a single electrical appliance nor plug socket anywhere, as a sneaking suspicion arose at the back of her mind.
âSo what brings you around these parts?â The old man asked as he served the tea with surprising deftness. âYouâre the first visitor weâve seen all week; even old Tom hasnât been around, and he never misses a mail run! Some of us are getting real worried about him.â
Well what do you know? Emma marveled. Apparently some places are so small even the apocalypse passes them by.