Rook didn't give a warning. He moved.
One moment he was proposing a test. The next, he was closing the distance like a charging beast, his fist already coming up in a brutal uppercut aimed at Kurt's jaw with the kind of force that said he wasn't planning on pulling the punch.
He attempted to dodge but his speed betrayed him. The punch connected with the force of an industrial sledgehammer.
Kurt had just enough time to think 'Son of—' before his head snapped back, and Kurt could have sworn he heard his skull shatter just as everything went dark.
Twenty minutes went by, and Emma had to confirm with her watch. Time moved strangely when you were watching a corpse.
She'd checked Kurt's pulse three times in the first five minutes. There was nothing, no heartbeat, no breathing. Just a corpse cooling on their floor.
"This is fucked," she muttered, pacing the length of the guildhouse floor as her boots hit the concrete in sharp, rhythmic clicks. "Completely fucked."
Rook sat nearby, elbows on his knees, watching the body with the patience of someone who'd seen enough weird shit to wait it out.
"Give it time," he said.
"He's dead, Rook." Emma stopped pacing and gestured at Kurt. "You killed him."
"He said he'd come back."
"Oh, he did, did he?" Emma asked with raised eyebrow and a hint of sarcasm.
But Rook didn't answer.
Emma's pacing grew more frantic as thirty minutes approached. Her hands curled into fists. "Son of a bitch lied. It was all bullshit—"
And suddenly, Kurt gasped awake.
The sound was wet and desperate, like someone drowning and breaking the surface. His body jerked on the floor, muscles spasming as consciousness slammed back into him. Then the blue screen materialized immediately in his vision.
[RESURRECTION COMPLETE]
[Deaths: 2]
New Ability Unlocked: [Pain Resistance - F Rank]
- Reduce sensation of pain
- Cost to next rank (E): 5 points
- +3 Points Awarded [Common death]
Available Points: 11
[Reaper Detection: DORMANT (30 days)]
Kurt groaned and pushed himself up, his movements shaky. His jaw ached but the pain was already fading, duller than it should have been like someone had turned down the volume on his nerve endings.
"Common death," Kurt muttered, reading the notification. "Lovely. Apparently there are rankings for how I die now." He then looked up and found Emma and Rook staring at him.
"Holy shit." Emma sank into a chair across from him, looking rattled. The first time he'd seen her anything other than angry or composed.
Rook crouched down, his face hard to read. "How do you feel?"
"Maybe a little heads up next time?" Kurt worked his jaw and felt the bone shift, already knitting back together. "Christ, you hit like a truck. That part of your ability?"
"You said quickly... and you weren't breathing," Rook said. "I checked. You were dead."
"Yeah, that'll happen." Kurt flopped onto the couch. "Trust me, I didn't enjoy it either."
Emma leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "This is unnatural."
Rook began to pace, his expression thoughtful. "If this is real, and I just watched it happen, so it must be, then you're either cursed or blessed. Maybe both."
Kurt smirked. "Does it matter which?"
"It matters," Rook said, stopping to look at him. "Because if you're cursed, you're a liability. And if you're blessed, you're an asset."
"So which one am I?"
Rook didn't answer immediately. He exchanged a glance with Emma and something unspoken passed between them, the kind of silent communication that came from years of working together. Finally, he turned back to Kurt.
"We have a job," Rook said. "The Crimson Hollows. C-rank dungeon. We took the contract but the difficulty spiked overnight, went from a solid C to borderline B-rank. Something changed inside. Half the guild thinks it's a death trap. The other half thinks we can handle it."
"So I'm bait now," Kurt said. "Lovely."
Emma stiffened but didn't argue, her expression troubled.
"It's dangerous. Too dangerous. We need an edge." Rook looked at Kurt. "That edge seems to be you."
Kurt was quiet for a moment. He just learnt that a dungeon was what turned him past tense three days ago so he was a bit hesitant.
Also, there were these people who knew him, trusted him, watched him die. And here he was, a stranger in his own skin, about to walk back into the same death trap.
Part of him wanted to tell them to fuck off. The smart part.
But the gap in his head, the missing pieces, they gnawed at him worse than any pain. And if dying was the only way forward...
"What's in it for me?" Kurt asked.
"A cut of the loot," Rook said. "And a place in the guild while you get your shit together. Also, answers. If anyone knows what happened to you, it's probably someone in the higher ranks. But you'll never get there stuck in the F-rank district running from thugs and sleeping in alleys."
Kurt looked at Emma. She was watching him with an expression he couldn't quite read; part anger, part worry, part something else that made his chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with being recently dead.
"What about you?" Kurt asked her. "You on board with using the walking corpse as a meat shield?"
"No," Emma said flatly. "But Rook's right. We need an edge and you're it." She leaned forward, eyes locked onto his with frightening intensity. "But if you're lying, if this is one of your cons, I'll kill you myself. And I'll make sure you stay down... permanently."
Kurt had that smile that formed crinkles along the edges of his eye. "Love, if I could stay down, I wouldn't be having this conversation."
Emma's expression shifted to something that might have been pain before her walls went back up.
"Fine," Kurt said, looking back at Rook. "I'm in. But I've got conditions."
"Name them."
"One, tell me everything about who I was. Every job. Every skeleton. I need to fill in these gaps."
"Done."
"Two, double the cut of whatever you had in mind. Hazard pay, since I'll be the one doing the dying."
Rook's eyes narrowed. "Ten percent. Standard for a guild member."
"Who just proved he can't stay dead." Kurt leaned forward. "You said it yourself—I'm an asset. Assets get paid. Twenty percent, or I walk back to that alley."
There was a long silence and Rook exchanged a look with Emma, who shrugged, still looking rattled.
"Fifteen," Rook said finally. "And that's generous for someone who got himself killed in an F Rank dungeon dive."
Kurt smirked. "Deal. And three," his tone shifted to something more serious, "when we're in that dungeon and things go sideways, you don't try to save me. Save yourselves. Because I'll come back and you won't."
The room went quiet. Emma stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time and Rook's expression softened slightly, respect in his eyes.
"I mean... that's kinda how it went down the last time," Rook said, then stood, extending his hand. "But deal."
Kurt stood and shook it. The grip was firm and solid, the handshake of someone who kept their word.
"Welcome to Raven's Crow... again," Rook said.
Kurt released his grip and headed toward the door. "The run's in two days," Rook called after him. "Be here at dawn. We gear you up first."
Kurt paused at the threshold, looking back. "Cheers then."
In the back of his mind, the System updated with a ding.
[Reaper Detection: DORMANT (29 days)].
***
A/N: I hope you're enjoying this so far. Add to Library and send a power stone or two if you are. Thank you and peace!