R. A. T. H

Forty-One

The orange glow of the morning came along with a new day. Rose sat at the helm of the dune-buggy and Elsa jumped in.

"There we go." She relaxed into the passenger seat. "Damn, you've really got a nice ride here."

"You said that before."

"And I said it again."

Rose could only blink her eyes at the girl, who dressed about the same as when she first met her. A red jacket parted to reveal a low, black-top underneath that gave away her abs. Jean shorts preceded thigh length stockings which fell into black, leather, combat boots. Then there was the brass metal gloves on her hands and the satchel at her waist.

"Do you. . .need my pistol?" She asked with uncertainty, wondering if her friend had any equipment worthwhile on hand. 'She can't be thinking of punching everything that came her way, could she?'

On the other hand, Elsa was utterly puzzled by that notion. "Huh? Why the heck would I want that?"

"Why would you not? Where's your weapons?"

"Twin armaments, duh. The left glove boosts my awareness within a meter, the right adds some power to my physical attack." Elsa raised her fists, and then patted her satchel. "And I've got mana bombs in here."

To her, it seemed simple enough. The more armaments you wielded, the more chance there was for them to malfunction or disrupt each other, especially so for the lower-grade ones like her gloves or the ones that brought about an effect outside of the equipment itself. If that were not the case, if no one feared having mana explode in their faces, everyone would simply shit their money out and hide behind a crap ton of weapons. Fights could simply be decided by whoever had the most bullcrap on them. That being the case, however, the standard was 2 or 3 armaments, maybe 4 or 5 if you had a bloat load of money for those crafted by Master Mages and up.

Rose understood that but still raised a brow. "What about protection?"

"That sounds. . .so wrong."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Elsa," Rose sighed, suddenly questioning her friendship with the girl.

Elsa laughed. "I'll just dodge! I'll just dodge! Besides, my jacket isn't just for looks, ya'know? It can resist blades."

Rose frowned and the girl laughed. She wasn't satisfied by that answer, however, unhooking the emblem on her chest and giving it to the girl. She could heal with Mana Channeling revitalizing and energizing her cells, but she severely doubted Elsa had the same ability.

"Take this, at least."

"You—fine fine, I will but it better not explode in my face. Thank you, mom."

"I am not your mother."

". . .you're kinda amazing sometimes."

The motor left Elsa's house and advanced along the path they had set. They maneuvered through winding streets, areas both of them had hardly ever crossed before. At this time, the farther away from the zones the map had highlighted, the more people they saw walking about and trying their best to ignore whatever the Slum Lords were up to. Yet, as the dune-buggy crawled behind a wall and stopped, there wasn't any sign of people.

"Gosh," Elsa mouthed, "They really fucking did a number here."

The place was in ruins. The shacks had not been solid in the first place, but wood, metal and rubble was strewn about the street that had been artificially widened with the power of weapons. It was like a couple mana bombs had been detonated around the area; there were still traces of blood on the cobblestoned road—the areas of it that hadn't been shattered at least.