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“Oh, a river. Nice.”
Wemmbu gave a pleased whistle.
“What are you doing?”
His companion—or rather, his handler—didn’t sound particularly happy about the unexpected thing he’d decided to do after the battle.
Not that it mattered. Anything he said was unlikely to convince a tyrant as fickle as this one. If circumstances were different, Wemmbu wouldn’t have bothered explaining himself at all.
“Washing my face. What’d you think I was doing? I’m gonna see someone, bro.”
He spent about five minutes by the riverbank, scrubbing the blood off his face and hands. While he was at it, he tried to tame his hair. The railgun’s shockwave had turned it into something resembling an abandoned bird’s nest.
That king’s taste was absolute garbage.
The guy’s entire idea of architecture was stacking expensive-looking blocks on top of each other until the castle looked like a giant glittering target. When Wemmbu blew it to pieces, he took one look at the rubble and decided it was an improvement.
Wemmbu hated Lettuce, but after dealing with enough tasteless upstarts, even Law’s architecture started looking elegant by comparison. He’d heard Flame’s base had been built by Law’s people, too. Honestly, instead of spending all their time chasing him across the server, those idiots could probably make a fortune building houses.
Lettuce really was a moron.
“…”
Egg probably wouldn’t be happy to hear he’d gone and attacked another civilization.
Not that Wemmbu had much choice.
Besides, he was running out of things to talk about.
That place…
Cold. Dark. No books.
Egg had to be bored out of his mind down there.
He would’ve loved to sit down with him and make fun of that civilization’s terrible taste together.
God, he missed the old days.
Back when he and his friends could just pick a direction and travel wherever they wanted.
Wemmbu sighed.
He’d gone through all the trouble of cleaning himself up. Showing up looking miserable would defeat the whole point. Besides, the chance to see Egg had only come from one of that bastard’s random whims. He needed to get there before the asshole changed his mind.
Still turning over a dozen different thoughts in his head, he made his way back to the underground cavern.
The moment he stepped through the entrance, a guard handed him a book.
“What?”
Inside were names, coordinates, and mission details. One section had been underlined several times, emphasizing exactly when the task had to be completed.
Their target was preparing an attack.
Which meant Wemmbu was expected to strike first.
“Hey! Let me through! You promised! You said after this mission I could talk to Egg!”
He shouted back for a while.
Then something seemed to occur to him.
The argument died in his throat.
“…Whatever.”
His choice had never mattered in the first place.
It never did.
And he was getting really damn tired of that.