Double-Blind: A Modern LITRPG

Chapter 155



Chapter 155

My first thought, as I followed Miles to the Adventurer’s Guild Hall, was how oddly cavalier he was. He’d effectively drawn a target on his own back with the presentation, yet he didn’t seem worried.


Correction. He appeared not to be worried.


Now that I was looking closer, there was a distinct oblong outline under Mile’s dress shirt that was probably kevlar, and he’d mastered that method of looking while not looking. Turning and walking backward while he talked, glancing up every so often and being particularly mindful of corners.


Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two people keeping pace. No way Miles missed them. We had an entourage.


“Anything?” I asked Azure.


“No.” Azure sounded puzzled. “It’s like he’s a blank. Like there’s nothing there.”


Figured.


“You get everyone you wanted?” I asked.


His mouth turned downward. “More or less.”


“So that’s a no, then.”


Miles pointed to a bulletin board as we passed it. The header read “MISSING,” with an overstuffed collage of pictures attached to what I assumed to be contact names. The pictures ranged drastically in quality. Some were clearly done by professional photographers for graduations, weddings, while others were low dpi images printed on computer paper. The ages of the missing ranged nearly as much. Adults, elders, and children. On this board alone, there were hundreds, many posted directly on top of each other.


More than a few had emails and phone numbers attached. In case other contact methods came online? I couldn’t imagine being that behind the curve.


“Creepy Overlords did us a favor in some ways, getting rid of the bodies after they made us run the gauntlet. Morgues would be overloaded, streets lined with body-bags, and you'd still probably stumble across one every so often. Problem being, now we don’t know who lived or who died.” He cocked his head and looked back. “Abandoned, died in the chaos, or was taken.”


“There’s not a database?” I asked, surprised. It felt so odd that Kinsley’s Market was still the only site on the intranet.


“Turns out, not all of us have a genius for a mother.” Miles delivered the line smoothly, with a nonchalant shrug.


I felt the world grind to a halt. I’d almost forgotten this happened with sometimes when I was on the verge of a panic attack. Only this time, we’d skipped the panic completely.


I stared at the back of Miles’ head and screamed. My voice didn’t echo. I panted, waiting for the emotion to subside. Then took a deep breath.


Okay. No one knows who set up the site except me, Kinsley, Iris, Ellison, and my mother herself. Ellison doesn’t like me, but he hates authority more. All three kids know how to keep their mouth shut. Which means Miles talked to my mother, or he pulled up her record and did the math. The first would be bad. The second is recoverable. Either way, he wants me to know that he talked to her and that she slipped up and gave him information, whether or not that actually happened. It’s what I immediately jumped to, and considering her state, she’s the point of weakness. Miles’ is looking for a reaction. If he did talk to her, this gets complicated. We briefly covered what she needed to keep to herself, but Miles is too fucking good at this. It’s better to assume she spilled everything. Meaning he knows that the Merchant’s Guild started far smaller than Kinsley and I have been leading the public to believe. That’s not necessarily an admission of guilt, but it doesn’t look good. Have to assume he’s aware of the fact that we only brought my family in four days before the transposition.


Factoring it all together — He's narrowed the original members down to Me, Kinsley, and Myrddin. Or just me and Kinsley.


Which is damning. It’s obviously me if he’s gotten that far. So, what’s stopping him?


Kinsley. He’d have to burn a lot of political capital to take me off the board right now, but my popularity is nothing compared to hers. She’s a saint. If he’s right, Kinsley is either an accomplice or an idiot, and no one who’s talked to her for longer than five minutes will think she’s an idiot. If he has eyes, he’s also probably noticed that she’s snapping up every mercenary available on the open market.


Miles can’t know that Kinsley would never take it that far, but he’s likely worried about open war.


He could just kill me.


No. It’s Miles. Everyone was angry and scared at the emergency meeting. He could have whipped them into a murderous frenzy, but he didn’t. Advised catch and capture. But we stacked the deck too much between the Region 14 - Adventurer’s Guild Alliance, and our joint popularity. If he did things the proper way, there’d be too many gaps for us to slip through. Following that philosophy, he’s probably waiting for an opportunity to disappear me in the middle of the night, and interrogate me offsite away from external interference.


I won’t break. But that might not matter. Those comments about doubting himself were real. This is personal for him. Cop guilt displacement. He feels like he evaluated Myrddin and failed, and now it’s his responsibility to make it right. No way of knowing whether he’ll cross that line, but I can’t let it get to that point.


But why hasn’t he taken me already? Assuming he talked to mom yesterday, why not wait to throw this in my face until he has me secured?


Oh.


Oh Miles.


If you just trusted yourself, you’d have me, hook, line and sinker.


Yet, you can’t do it. You can’t risk the possibility that I’m not who you think I am.


This was a gambit. From the very beginning. If I’m stupid enough to attack you in broad daylight, you brought kevlar and backup. Simultaneously, you’re making a show of parading me around, knowing that if Myrddin is alive, he’ll be keeping an eye on his old guild mates. If it really was just the three of us, and we did have a rocky relationship, he won’t be happy that I’m helping your Taskforce. You’re using me as bait, planning to grab him if he comes after me. And if I do nothing, not wanting the timing to seem suspicious, and Myrddin doesn’t show, you’ll have the final push you need to tighten the rope.


Now. How do I react?


He was watching me. I could see his eyes in the reflection of a nearby mirror. If feds were waiting in the Adventurer’s Guild Hall, I was walking into a tribunal disguised as a strategy meeting. I needed to hit him with something completely unexpected.


I needed to get dirty.


Slowly, I stopped, allowing the massive influx of anxiety to erupt. It was difficult at first, taking the lid off for the first time in a decade. When it got this bad, I crawled under my bed and clung to the slats. My safe space. But my safe space was gone. I was nowhere near the apartments. The anxiety overflowed and didn’t stop. Pins and needles shot up my back, to my neck. My head hung on its own, and my upper body began to shake.


Tears streamed freely from my eyes. I crooked my head and tried to look at him, then dropped it again. “I nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—” I clamped down on the stutter. josei


Mile’s grabbed my shoulders. “Kid, are you okay?”


“I nu—fuck. I nu—“


I started to hyperventilate, pressing one hand into my collarbone.


Miles’ eyes lit in recognition. “Okay. Okay, I got you, you’re having a panic attack.”


I groaned and looked around. People from my region were staring.


As usual, Miles was fast on the uptake. I watched from the corner of my eye as he waved his guys away and carted me towards a nearby alley, sitting me down on a milk crate behind a dumpster, hidden from the street. A mix of conflicting emotions went through his face. Probably wondering if he was being played.


He was. But not in the way he was worried about.


Miles crouched down, a safe distance away from me. “What do you need? My thirteen-year old gets these.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sometimes he wants to be wrapped up in something, sometimes he just needs space—”


“Space,” I said, gasping for air.


Miles nodded. But he didn’t wait for me to regain my breath, my bearings. “What—uh—what set you off there?” He chuckled. “Last conversation we had, you were stone-cold.”


I shook my head, still recovering. Then enunciated each word carefully. “I… know. That you’re a just doing your job. My f-f—” I clamped down, waited. “My… father was a cop. You have to investigate. Have to ask questions.”


“You can talk to me.” Miles encouraged. “I’m on your side.”


His “Good Cop” was perfection.


I pursed my lips tightly, then forced the words out. “Thi-thi-thi-this is the longest my mother has been sober in six years. And there’s all this pressure, and I’m doing everything I can, but things keep piling up one after another and everything keeps going wrong and… she always relapses eventually.”


The words hung heavy between us.


He would know that everything I was saying was true, if he’d done his homework. And of course he had. Because it was Miles.


Miles breathed a long sigh. “Grow through what you go through.”


I wiped my eyes. “You’ve been in the program?”


He shook his head. “My third wife. Heard that on repeat for about a year. That, and “One day at a time.” For what it’s worth, I think your mom’s on her way up. She had her chip out on the table at the café where I tracked her down.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Drinking a coke.”


“Did she… freak out, when she realized why you were asking questions?” I didn’t have to fake the concern.


“Nah.” Miles shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not even sure she knew it was anything more than a casual conversation. She was so proud of what you all built, even though she was trying to hide it. And she didn’t tell me anything directly. About the site. I just pieced it together from what she said.” He bit his lip, a flash of guilt across his face. “Let’s just… call it a day for now. You can meet the guys later.”


I sent a mental message to my summon. “Azure. You said before you could copy me easily on the surface, if needed. Because of our bond.”


“Oh, um. Yes.” Azure answered.


”How sure are you?”


“One-hundred percent.” Azure chuckled nervously. ”I… may have tried it.”


“How long did it last?”


“Five minutes, but I ended it early. From the mana drain, I’m guessing I could maintain the form for at least three times as long.”


“Good.”



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