The Survivors vs. the Steppingman It was a rare night with all three moons visible in the sky. The three were known as Paxia, Audacia, and Veritia. Veritia was the most circular, and it lit the night sky with its gentle gold glow. Paxia was large, but wasn’t as popular because of its rough, potato-like surface that was visible on close inspection. Audacia was the smallest and seen the least often. Some were drawn to those imperfections, but most people were attracted by the unrivaled beauty of Veritia. The winding streets of Labyrinth City were bustling under the light of those three moons. One person raced through the city using their tremendous leaping ability and chains to propel themselves high into the sky, making them look like some kind of eerie, giant insect. This person went unnoticed, however, and no one would have suspected their presence until the moment they sneak up behind someone to claim as their new victim. They were the Steppingman out of Labyrinth City folklore. “What’s the rush? It’s a beautiful night. Why not just sit back and admire the moons?” someone said, interrupting the Steppingman with a lightning-fast roundhouse kick. He had short black hair and green leather armor over his thin yet supple body. It was Nick from the Survivors, putting his new ability to practice. “Hmph… You are inexperienced with Light Body, but your martial arts skill is not bad,” the Steppingman said. “Am I good enough to count myself as a Steppingman?” Nick asked. They easily blocked Nick’s kick and used their chains like a hook to jump onto the roof of a house. Nick jumped after the Steppingman in pursuit. “What does it matter what you are called? You’re a dead man.” The Steppingman entered a fighting stance when Nick landed on the same rooftop. A chill ran down Nick’s spine. “There’s one thing that doesn’t make sense to me. Why do you keep doing the same thing when we’ve already figured out your routine? You’re obviously a formidable fighter, but you’re as sloppy as a magazine reporter rushing to meet a deadline. Or maybe you do have some kind of deadline?” Nick said. The Steppingman answered with their chains, flicking them at Nick as fast as an arrow. Nick eluded them with a sidestep. “Is that all you have to say before your death?” the Steppingman asked. “We’ve got the rest figured out. We know your behavioral pattern, the reason you abduct children, and why you chose the Garbage Heap as your base. Any guesses as to how we managed that?” The Steppingman responded to Nick’s question with a jump leading to a roundhouse kick. “Walking atop roofs, pillars, and streetlights feels amazing. I thought at first you’d be able to go anywhere. But once you actually try it, you realize it’s surprisingly limiting. No matter how good you are with Light Body, it’s hard to leap onto or off a roof without damaging it, and one bad step can send you tumbling through headfirst,” Nick continued. He swayed to avoid a kick that appeared sharper than the swing of a sword. “There are animal trails in the city that squirrels and mice pass through that are also perfect for a Steppingman. Once we paired those with the routes we’ve seen you take so far, pinpointing your base and your behavioral pattern wasn’t hard.”
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Rather than counterattack, Nick glared at his opponent and let his words do the fighting. “Now, the reason you abduct children. You need them in your efforts to find the cure for a disease. Is that right?” Nick asked. The Steppingman thrust their chains at Nick with the force of a gale, and Nick dodged like a cat. “A mage friend told me recently that she wants to write a thesis and become a sage. I thought that sounded amazing, but it’s surprisingly easy to get a thesis published and form a research society. A group of mages can even get together at a bar and call it a research paper seminar. Did you know that?” The Steppingman attacked him rather than answering, essentially confirming his accusations. “But I was still surprised to learn that someone had opened a laboratory in the Garbage Heap and submitted a thesis. What do you have to say to that, Nargava?” Nick asked, emphasizing the name. The Steppingman stopped and threw back their hood. The man’s features took shape, and what Nick could only vaguely perceive as the shape of a human turned into Nargava, the bald man who’d opened a clinic in the Garbage Heap. “That’s what I thought,” Nick muttered. “How did you figure it out?” Nargava asked, glaring at Nick. “Because the kid we found died of yellow demon fever,” Nick answered bluntly. “You treated her, but the illness advanced too quickly to manage. Correct?” “Why would I treat a child I abducted? If I was truly concerned for a child, I would not have to kidnap them.” “I did wonder about that. I thought you might have been the kidnapper’s accomplice, and that your role was to clean up their messes. Maybe they brought the child into the Garbage Heap and forced you to treat them when they got sick.” “I see.” “But I guessed wrong. Though I’m not the one who figured that out.” Nick cleared his throat and adopted a theatrical tone. “A highly contagious disease spread inside the Garbage Heap, yet not a single person outside it has gotten sick. As unsanitary as that place is, that doesn’t make sense. The outbreak feels like it was orchestrated… That’s the opinion of an expert we spoke to, anyway. He really needs to stop prefacing his arguments like that…” “It is proper etiquette to conduct a question-and-answer session. Did you come before me without proper preparation?” “Like we had time for that.” Nick cursed internally. He was giving Nargava a chance to attack as he talked, but the man must have realized what he was doing. Guess I’ve gotta rely on that item. Nick braced himself and continued to speak, searching for the right opportunity all the while. “You’ve turned the Garbage Heap into your test site for researching the cure to yellow demon fever. You abduct kids to use as test subjects. Yes?” Nargava smiled mockingly. “You know nothing.” “What do you mean?” “First, allow me to compliment you for figuring out my identity. But there are plenty of other places to hide in Labyrinth City. Temporarily dispelling the phantom king orb’s effect will accomplish nothing.” “You’d think, right? But phantom king orbs have one fundamental weakness,” Nick said, smiling mockingly in return. “They’re illusionary magic items that mess with people’s perception rather than light and sound. They easily inhibit the minds of people you’ve never met before, but they have trouble doing the same for those who already know your identity. All we have to do is spread a rumor that you’re the one using a magic item to hide yourself, and the phantom king orb will be rendered useless. Even leaving Labyrinth City won’t save you after all you’ve done. Wanted posters will surely spread all throughout the land.”