Chapter 033 - AITA

The office floor of the precinct hadn’t changed all that much since she’d left. The desks and furniture were still a scattered pile of broken wood, metal, and plastic all over the floor. She pushed a piece of debris with her foot and opened her inventory, pulling out a glowstone. The light of the stone spread throughout the room and gave her visibility but it also cast shadows everywhere. Withered potted plants, wall fixtures, and reflective surfaces were not helping the vibes.

“Great!” she muttered, “It gets worse. That’s awesome.”

She carefully moved through the wreckage, memories surfacing of her first fight in this new life. She could feel the skeletal hound’s claws digging into her flesh and hear the discordant sound of its breath. She shuddered before stopping at the door that led down into lockup. She walked over to it and hesitated before pushing the door open and descending the stairs. She stopped briefly in processing, turning around to examine the various counters and desks laid out and scratched her chin. Huh, actually this could make a good workshop so long as I don’t need a whole lot of room.

She turned to the wrecked door leading into the cell block and ran her hands along the damaged door frame. Kinda wish I knew that mending spell now, maybe Catherine knows it. Fix this door up and we’ve got secure storage, or somewhere to put an asshole that is worth keeping alive. She scoffed at the thought and turned away, pausing one more time before rolling her head and letting out a groan. She stomped her foot and then gave in to the temptation, hopping the broken door and stepping back into the cell block.

It was dead quiet, just like the last time.

She walked over to her cell and stood in front of it, imagining the terrified girl of just a few weeks ago waking up alone in the dark. She closed her eyes and sighed before holding up the glowstone and peering in. There was nothing there. A small part of her had kind of hoped there’d be another message, some sort of hint at what to do next, another lifeline from the old bastard that had dumped her into this mess. It had kind of felt like he had been watching her through her time in the dungeon. Now? Now it’s just quiet. Fucker, you say that shit then you do other shit and… now I’m all messed up.

She rested her head against the bars and breathed out one sharp breath before punching them and turning away. Mom, you have a lot of explaining to do when you get back. Enjoy this year cuz I’m not gonna shut up when I see you, she grumbled and focused on the ends of the hallway. The end nearest her cell was just brick wall, on the other end was a door that she’d seen before but knew it wasn’t the way out. She wandered over to it and held the glowstone up to the placard on the door.

Tactical Storage, she hummed thoughtfully and smiled. “That looks promising.”

It’s probably so there's stuff at the ready in case there’s a problem with a prisoner, makes sense. She checked the door and found it had an electronic lock with a key fob sensor. She glanced at the other side of the door. The hinges were built into the top and bottom rather than the sides making it impossible to smash them and get in that way. The window was too small too, even if she did crack it open it was probably set in such a way that one couldn’t get their arm in and reach the handle.

She rubbed her chin again, pulled her club out of her inventory, and shrugged. When all else fails, whack it. She took a step back and then pushed forward into a power strike, pouring mana into the blow and feeling a small amount of stamina burn off as the club collided with the handle and the locking side of the door.

BANG!

She winced and stepped back, rubbing her ear. Great job, genius! It’s an enclosed space with solid walls! She clicked her tongue and kept rubbing her head until the ringing stopped, eyeing the door angrily. The handle was toast and a good portion of the door had bent inward slightly around the lock. She gave it an experimental kick and it wobbled a little but didn’t budge. She sighed, knowing what she’d have to do and wound up for another swing.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

It took three more power strikes to blast through the lock and damage the internal workings of the door enough to get inside. One swift kick was all it took to finish the job. The busted door swung open and she poked her head in, glancing around and holding the glowstone up for a better view. The room was smaller than she’d expected, more of an extra-long walk in closet. She imagined the real storage room was upstairs and much bigger. 

There were four metal frames made to look like cubbies along the left wall where a couple patrol vests hung and what looked like a riot shield. Some gloves with reinforced knuckles and grips sat on a shelf and there were even a set of six respirator masks. There’s all kinds of shit in here, not that any of it does me any good. I bet my armor is way better than this stuff. She turned away from it to the other side of the room and whistled. Wow…

Two shotguns hung on a rack for easy access. Beneath them were obviously ammo boxes. Each had a different label on the side. She opened one up and pulled a round out, turning it over between her fingers.

Rubber Shotgun Slug (Mortal-Mundane)

A pre-system firearm slug intended for non-lethal force. Deals lethal damage when used properly. 12-Gauge. Fits in a Shotgun.

She snorted and put the item down and looked over at the line of handguns set up neatly to the right of the shotguns. All of this is close range stuff, which is obvious given the purpose of the room, she thought absently. No long-arm for Catherine here. She rubbed her neck and glanced back at the shotguns one more time. I mean… I have no idea how to use these things but I figure buckshot can do damage regardless of how bad my aim is.

She glanced back at the door. Not that I really need to worry about how hard I can hit, she chuckled and grabbed one of the guns anyway. She snatched up the full tin labeled ‘buckshot’ for good measure.

Law-Enforcement Issue Shotgun (Mortal-Mundane)

A pre-system firearm designed for Law Enforcement. Fires large shells at a short range compared to other firearms.

Buckshot Shell (Mortal-Mundane)
A pre-system firearm shell intended for lethal force. Fires a spray of pellets for penetrating damage at a short range. 12-Gauge. Fits in a Shotgun.

The shotgun was black, which was pretty normal. It had a strap on it that she used to sling it over her shoulder. With her armor on it was a snug fit but it would do for carrying it upstairs. Her inventory was already full. I wonder how much space Catherine has, she didn’t say. Probably because she doesn’t want me to treat her like some gopher npc. She snorted, “I am sworn to carry your burdens,” she said in a bad accent and chuckled at how hilarious she was.

“Annastasia?”

Anna glanced up when Catherine’s voice carried down into the depths of the precinct. The acoustics were really good.

“Annastaisa! Are you alright?”

Anna scowled, Quit calling me that, only my mom calls me Annastasia and only when I’m in trouble, she grumbled before raising her voice. “I’m fine! Coming up!” She stared down the hall and rounded the corner, making her way back into processing. I was just a little busy committing a felony or ten. She made a face. Are they felonies anymore? Is America a thing? She let out a hard breath, that’s a rough thought. Not that I really care.

Her thoughts drifted back to the appeal chamber.

“Can you rule?”

Her lips formed a thin line. Not yet, old man, but Catherine’s right about us folks from Earth. We’ll screw this up royally unless someone is in charge. I hope you weren’t expecting me to be nice about it, there’s too many Chloes and Hales in the world. She snickered, I’ll just tell them to blame you for my ‘bad behavior’.

She paused at the base of the steps and frowned hard, the blood in her veins warming up as a cloudy breath exited her lips.

No.

No I won’t.

I’m owning this shit. Hale said nobody likes a tyrant, I’ll show her a fucking tyrant.

“You are scowling at the floor and mumbling. Do you do this often? I know a variety of therapy techniques,” Catherine said from the top of the stairs.

Anna rolled her eyes and looked up. “Seriously? You know therapy shit, I thought you were an inquisitor. What don’t you do?”

Catherine frowned. “Annasatsia, I had to be ordained as a priestess before I could join the inquisition. I have married people before, read last rites, and heard confessions.”

Anna stalked up the stairs and put her club back into her inventory. “Yeah? And did you lock up your confessors after hearin’ them out?” she asked sourly before reaching Catherine’s eye level. “If I didn’t make this clear before, I’m not a fan of religious types, gods in general.”

“No, I did not do that. Even if their crime was heinous,” Catherine said bluntly. “Rules are rules and I adhered to them to the letter my entire life. Regardless of the consequence. And yes, while you did not say it out loud, you made your animosity quite clear.”

Anna winced.

Catherine exhaled and put her hands on her hips, “Are you done venting? You are out of danger for the moment. You are not in the dungeon. You do not need to be walking around in armor, both literal and metaphorical.”

Anna opened her mouth to speak.

“I have already checked what rooms are accessible upstairs. There was a manual torch-er-’flashlight’ in one of the drawers in the lobby. There are no more creatures within the building,” the ex-paladin said patiently.

Anna shut her mouth and nodded. “Uh,” she mumbled.

“Apology accepted,” Catherine said. “No need to verbalize. I do not believe it is in your nature to do so and will not force you. I can see it on your face, which is enough. Let us just leave it there for now.”

Anna deflated, “You uh, really were a priest or something, weren’t you?”

Catherine smiled. “Yes, a good one too, apparently.”

Anna couldn’t help herself. She laughed and felt some more of the tension leave her body. She was still wound like a spring but it was less pronounced than usual. It felt better even as the dark thoughts lingered at the back of her mind. She hadn’t changed her intentions, she had no interest in playing nice in this new life or hiding behind a veil of either mediocrity or anonymity. Those two choices had done nothing but make her life worse in the past. If being the asshole was what she was good at, and it was clearly in her blood, then she’d be the asshole.

Anna and Catherine made their way back to the lobby and Anna took a moment to pull some of her junk out of her inventory and put her armor away. It felt uncomfortable taking it off and she had the immediate urge to put it back on. She ultimately compromised by leaving the reinforced robes on as they took a moment to explore the rest of the precinct. It wasn’t an overly big place but there were plenty of rooms and they even found a small barracks with enough space for about ten or twelve people to rest comfortably on genuine if small and extra firm mattresses.

Adjacent to the barracks they found a pair of wash rooms with toilets that obviously didn’t work and showers that didn’t work either. Anna frowned at the showerhead and let out a sigh. “A shower would be nice.”

“Then I suggest getting started on your profession,” Catherine said absently, looking at herself in the mirror under the light of the glowstone that Anna had given her. “...did I get a little younger?”

Anna turned to her. “My profession can help us take a shower?”

Catherine turned back to her and nodded. “Engraving was the basis of technology where I come from. Stoves, vehicles, refrigeration, showers, they all utilized engraving along with other clever engineering tricks that I cannot begin to explain.” She tapped her chin, “I recall a…” she hesitated, “...friend I made at an inn while traveling complaining about the inn’s boiler and pressure valves or something. I was not really paying attention.”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Did you make a lot of ‘friends’ at inns while you were out doing your priestly work?”

She expected Catherine to scold her, instead, the woman just gave a smug grin and walked out of the bathroom. Anna stared after her in shock, she held up her hands and couldn’t help herself. “Wait, wait, wait, you had game?” she marched after her. “See, you blabber on about all this other stuff and clam up here? Not cool.”

Catherine laughed. “Perhaps get to know me better and we can share those kinds of things. For now, we should talk about getting you in shape and getting that profession of yours up to standard so we can bathe.”

The woman crossed her muscular arms and met Anna’s eyes expectantly in that way that she’d only ever seen from her mother. The way a professor expected perfection from a student and a mother expected the right answer the first time. Anna closed her eyes and let out a breath. “Aren’t you the vassal in this relationship?” she asked helplessly.

“Only as long as you are worthy of it,” Catherine said flatly. “I will wake you at the same time each day and we will go through exercises. I will teach you about your proficiencies and we will go through drills. Afterwards you will spend time with your profession, that room downstairs looks sufficient for your work.”

The knight gestured to the lobby, “We will end the day with conversations on magic so I can help you learn the other basic spells that you likely did not get from your class. I assume you have food pills given that you have not once brought up eating, so just take those and worry about meal breaks when you run out. Until then our goal is to get as many of the basic skills unlocked for you and I and push you to Middle-grade at minimum.”

Anna just stared at her, gobsmacked. “...were you some kind of drill sergeant too?”

Catherine grinned.