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Log Horizon © Mamare Touno

This work provided under section 107 of the copyright act of 1978

Chapter 15

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Michael had quickly realized his quantities of mana were what could be charitably described as "pitiful." On top of his low level, monks in general didn't have much in the way of it. It didn't help that the primary role of his class was to spam low-cooldown skills in quick succession, which burned through mana at a frankly incredible rate.

He had also realized, however, that there was nothing to prevent him from cancelling a Stance once he was already in midair to halt its mana drain, while still reaping the benefits of the higher momentum he could attain with the increased physical capabilities.

The downside to doing so was that the cooldowns were applied from initial skill usage, so he would be cut off from using the Stance for a while.

But unlike the original Elder Tale, damage wasn't merely a function of the skills being used on impact, but also of the actual impact itself. Maybe at higher levels there would be magical effects assisting his damage dealing, but at this point the impact of flesh on flesh was more than enough to send his opponent's hurtling backwards.

He grimaced as he jostled his now-injured hand by jumping back from the gangsters, dragging Faraday along with him.

One gangster lay on the ground, cursing. The other three were still easily capable of fighting, but he'd accomplished his goal of distracting them from Faraday.

His position, however, was still extremely precarious. With low health and low mana, he didn't exactly have a whole lot of options.

Had he been an action hero, he'd have goaded them into chasing him with a few well placed insults, then stalled for time until the cavalry arrived, preferably in an attack helicopter.

But while it was tempting to just hope they were the dumb gangbangers they looked like, ineffective insults would just end with him and Faraday dead, and he didn't want to risk that. Plus, the 'attack helicopter' part of the plan was right out.

Another temporary lull happened in the battle, as the four gangsters conferred, then split into two groups and tried to maneuver around Michael and Faraday.

Faraday scrambled to his feet. He glanced apologetically at Michael, and immediately returned to casting buffing spells.

Both moved backwards, trying to avoid getting encircled. Michael took the opportunity to think through his next move.

What did his opponents have over him?

Ranged weapons and more numbers.

What did he have over his opponents?

A healer at his back and evasion skills.

He knew that, given enough time, the battle would turn in his favor. As an evasion tank, he could theoretically avoid blows while steadily dishing out hits and simultaneously getting healed by Faraday. Removing even one gangster from the equation would significantly shift the situation in his favor.

But his main problem wasn't anything personal that he could solve, it was that any plan he made would have to rely on Faraday staying alive to heal him. And no matter how well he fought, everyone here was still equal at level one. Should all four gangsters decide to dogpile Faraday, there wouldn't be much Michael could do to stop them.

All of them attacking Faraday at once was the smart option, of course- they hadn't seen Faraday take the offensive, and so that he couldn't hold his own in a fight would be the logical conclusion to draw. But it wasn't exactly correct- despite his rear-echelon class, Faraday was still an FBI agent.

These gangsters wouldn't know that. This had almost certainly been an attack of opportunity after someone had spotted him and his green hoodie at some point during the hours they'd been stuck in traffic, so perhaps Michael could use that to his advantage.

That wouldn't stop them from taking down Faraday if all four rushed him, though. FBI agent or not, he wasn't invincible. Michael needed more time to think this through, but he wouldn't get it if they successfully flanked him.

Perhaps, though, by reminding them of one of their strengths, he could manipulate their actions enough to at least buy some time. In the worst case scenario, they'd do what they were already planning, but at a more predictable time.

"Fucking cowards! Can't even take me in a straight fight!" Michael yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.

The gangsters jeered- they wouldn't be falling for the 'honorable fight' gambit. Instead, they went in the diametrically opposite direction, and returned to bombarding Michael and Faraday with throwing knives.

This might have been a good choice against a party without a healer, or even a party with a more traditional tank. But instead of slowly wearing Michael and Faraday down, the thrown knives only allowed them more time to recuperate as Michael dodged them and Faraday finally figured out how to use his Ghost Walk skill to create a duplicate to absorb damage.

Michael's mana was still low, but his health situation was now manageable.

And, he realized, the gangsters had solved his problem with being outnumbered for him.

In trying to outmaneuver Michael and Faraday, they'd made the cardinal sin of Splitting Up the Party.

Michael looked at Faraday, then very meaningly looked towards the group of two gangsters almost behind them.

Quietly, he said, "On 'go,' we beat them up."

Faraday gave a slight nod,

The gangsters stopped throwing weapons, as they realized the mistake they were making.

"Go!"

Michael activated Wildcat stance, and Faraday and him pounced onto the two surprised gangsters.

With his health currently less important than his mana, Michael disabled wildcat stance in midair and let inertia do the work. His target stumbled back, although the gangster didn't fall over. Michael's hand hurt like hell, but was quickly fixed by whatever magic tied his HP points to his life.

Faraday arrived slightly after Michael, and promptly taught the second gangster a lesson about close combat skills.

The other two gangsters didn't hesitate to come to the aid of their allies.

Activating Wildcat Stance, Phantom Step, and Tiger Echo Fist in quick succession, Michael sent shockwaves through the concrete, briefly staggering everyone else on the battlefield.

Faraday recovered faster than either gangster, and grabbed a knife off the ground.

He whipped it out, and held it over one of the downed gangster's necks.

"You're under arrest! Surrender or I'll kill your friend!"

The standing gangsters laughed mockingly, but stopped all the same. "So what, we'll just respawn! We're all immortals now, didn't you hear?"

An ugly look crossed Faraday's face. "Tell that to my coworker."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"He thought the secret to getting Adventurer powers involved respawning. He was wrong, and now his family grieves."

"You mean…" The gangsters stepped back, suddenly unsure.

That did kind of explain why someone would attack someone else in broad daylight with barely any provocation.

The gangster not pinned by Faraday tried to stealthily rise, but Michael Phantom Stepped to them and slammed them in the ground. He decided to add his own piece. "We're not even secondary characters. We're the NPCs. You don't have plot armor, and pretending you're special is the easiest way to get killed."

"So," Faraday added, "if you surrender now, with us knowing that you did this thinking there wouldn't be any permanent harm to either party, perhaps the justice system will be lenient. But if you don't-" and here, Faraday took a long, hard look at his knife, "there will be bloodshed. Make your choice."

The standing gangsters shared a look, but then gave in.

Michael barely suppressed his post adrenaline crash jitters long enough for the gangsters to kneel in a line with their hands up.

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If this situation had one saving grace, it was that Michael and Faraday had already been going to the FBI office in New York.

Without the desire for some modicum of secrecy, they were quickly escorted to their destination by two flashing cop cars.

"So, that 'accident' you mentioned, was that…?"

Faraday sighed. "To be honest, I fibbed a bit to scare those gangsters- he didn't actually die, but he's currently in a medically induced coma. We're hoping the damage isn't permanent, but it was still pretty nasty. I'd prefer not to talk about it."

Michael nodded. Aside from that, neither made much of an effort to chat during this car ride, lost in their own thoughts.

Michael felt much the same way, and himself kept silent.

Though Faraday did remember to mention that his parents had been informed about the situation beforehand. Evidently, the camera footage had been prerecorded, rather than streamed live, and his parents had been informed (and agreed to) him and them being brought in for questioning.

Michael was at least a little bit in shock about a federal agency not being pants-on-head retarded, but figured it had to happen eventually.

The FBI field office was quartered in a tall building covered in glass. The structure might have been impressive outside New York but here merely fit into the background.

Michael dimly recalled seeing it before, despite rarely having cause to go to the southern part of Long Island. Hadn't his family gone here to report his brother's disappearance, when the United States was still treating the Disappearance as a terrorist attack?

He didn't remember the experience very well, to be honest. It had been a long, long night.

Entering the building, Michael and Faraday were almost immediately accosted by reporters and Faraday's co-workers.

Faraday successfully fended them off, leading Michael up the stairs to the assistant director in charge of the field office.

Three chairs were pulled up, two of which were occupied by his parents.

His father cut off whatever he was saying to the assistant director when the door opened, standing up to embrace Michael. His mother did the same, and he found himself rather uncomfortably squished between his parents.

But after the day he just had, it was a good kind of uncomfortable.

On this floor, the late-day sunlight still shone through the windows, illuminating the rather bland decor.

Michael sat down when prompted by his parents, while Faraday stood behind them, by the doorway.

The assistant director faced Michael. The older man sighed. "Well, this has been all kinds of messed up. We'll need to get a full statement from you later, but I'll fill you in on what your parents and I were originally discussing."

Michael nodded.

"Have you been keeping abreast of events in Japan?

Michael replied in the affirmative.

"Then have you heard 'Krusty's' response to your actions? Or more specifically, about how he claimed to know your brother?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Here's the deal. As of right now, the Japanese have a massive advantage with regards to the interdimensional travel technology. Nearly all the people with access to it are Japanese citizens, and for the foreseeable future nearly everybody coming back will be Japanese. Got it?"

"Yes."

But with Krusty mentioning your brother, we know that there's at least one well-connected American with a shot of making it across. You're following me so far?"

"Uh-huh." Michael tried to not get annoyed at the assistant director constantly checking to see if he was paying attention.

"Well, here's the deal. We want an American Adventurer over here ASAP, if for no other reason to rub the noses of the Chinese and Russians in it. Still with me?'

"Mm-hmm."

"Before this… incident earlier today, the US government was going to offer you the chance to either just show up on on television to ask the Japanese to do what they could to get him back, or to fly you over to Japan so you could ask the Adventurers yourself. We figured going through non-diplomatic channels would be a bit more effective than just setting our ambassadors to the task. But now, it looks like you're being specifically targeted. We're not going to force you and your parents to chose one, or either of these options, but speaking as a father myself, I'd recommend you choose the second."

Michael saw his father nod slightly in the corner of the eye. His mother was biting her thumb, which Michael recognized as a nervous tick of hers.

Michael chewed over the options.

"When would we leave for Japan?" Michael made sure to emphasize the 'we.' He liked to think of himself as a relatively independent person, but he'd never traveled outside the US, and doing so without his parents was a little bit of a scary idea.

The assistant director shrugged. "I could have agents at your house picking up your stuff in twenty minutes, and spots on a 747 before the end of the night."

Jeez, that would be abrupt. But to be honest, Michael was already falling in love with the idea. He'd always wanted to travel, but had never even been outside of New England. Of course, the choice wasn't solely up to him, and he looked to his parents for guidance.

"I think we should go," said his dad.

The corner of his mother's lip tightened. Silence fell over the room as they waited for her reply. Slowly, she said, "I think… going would be better than staying."

Michael faced the assistant director and shrugged. "Then I guess we're going."

He nodded in reply.

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A/N: You guys more than qualified for an interlude this time around, but unfortunately I got kind of swamped making cuts and changes to my backlog. Instead, I'm posting a deleted scene that would have gone in chapter 12 before I took off a week to re-do the first half of this arc. I thought it was unnecessarily dramatic, but it hopefully serves as an interesting "what if." It is, of course, noncanon, but much of the information provided is canon (at least relative to this story.) I'm also going to have to put this story on a one-week hiatus from updating, as I cut out the equivalent of an entire chapter, and need to build my backlog back up. Sorry :(

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Noncanon Interlude: Krusty's first night back

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Much of Krusty's life before the Catastrophe had been forgotten. He couldn't tell you who his best friend in high school was, or anything about the cat he'd owned as a child, or the details of his second semester in Harvard. (That, at least, might had been the alcohol.)

But his stepsister he remembered well. How she couldn't quite live up to his parents' expectations, but still struggled to stay afloat in the demanding private schools she was put in. How she always took the time to be relaxed around her little brother, despite her course load.

She had died in a car accident.

His mother had told him after the interview, an afterthought. After all, she wasn't really her daughter, was she?

It had happened six months after the catastrophe. His first instinct had been to just brush it off; after all, she'd just respawn at the cathedral, no?

But things didn't work that way here.

In Akihabara, he'd have his friends and guildmates to support him, and his work to keep him motivated.

Here, the funeral had happened over a year ago. He had no time to grieve, and no sense of closure.

There was nothing he could do. No ploy to enact, no monster to kill, no quest to take. Just a creeping sense of existential dread and a sparsely decorated room.

One less link to this world.