Chapter 3

  Boston, nineteen-thirty... Did that god ever actually give a specific year, or was it just the 1930's? Dammit, now I need to start again.

  Boston, nineteen-thirty-ish. The cool crisp autumn air cut through me as I exited the building that housed my private detective office. I was a man on a mission. From where I stood, I could hear the city crying for a savior. I was that savior.

  My name is Sam Spade... No, it's Dick Tracy... Special Agent Dale Cooper?.. Dammit, why didn't I settle on my awesome reference name in advance!

  I was a nameless detective on a mission.

  "Clay, which direction should we head first?"

  That was Joan. She wasn't just some ordinary dame, but she wasn't my ball-and-chain either. We'd been working cases for quite a while now, so it would be wrong to call her anything but my partner. She was as capable of a detective as she was beautiful, but don't let her hear you call her beautiful or she'll pound you right in the kisser. Most men found out the hard way, and never made the same mistake twice.

  The streets of Boston were infested with filth. Long gone were the days of peace and innocence. Instead, we'd been overrun by crime, both organized and petty. This wasn't the type of place to settle down and raise a family. I should know, my fiancée Stacy left me for the worst of criminals, Twenty-Sided Kyle. Kyle had been my former partner, but unfortunately it turned out he was dirty. In this city, it would be harder to find a clean cop than a dirty one.

  "Why do I get the feeling you're doing an internal monologue?"

  "Joan's voice cut through the thick Boston air like butter on a pancake."

  "You are an idiot, and you said that last part out loud. Also, that metaphor is really confusing. Why would you be cutting butter on a pancake? Wouldn't it already be cut before it went on the pancake?"

  "I could tell I'd frustrated the dame. There was no turning back now. I was in for a..."

  "Focus!" Joan's voice paired up with a judo chop on the top of my head. She could have definitely held back a little bit more on the chop because I was going to have a lump. I was grateful for the massive constitution stat, because she might have actually finished me off if I had my stats from the last investigation.

  "You're going to kill me before the investigation even starts!" I rubbed my injured head as my film noir detective persona crumbled to dust.

  "Don't tempt me."

  Player is being honest with User.

  Well, that notification was both terrifying and disheartening. I had already started to regret the +4 insight I'd chosen back in the office. It didn't trigger on everything, but it seemed to always pop up at the most anxiety-inducing times. I could only imagine how much worse it would be if I could actually read minds. Mind reading might possibly be the absolutely worst super power for a person with social anxiety. Sadly, my increased insight was like Mind-Reading-Lite, all the anxiety of mind reading with half the calories.

  "Fine. I was just trying to get in the mood. If we're living a film noir, then it helps if I get into character." I decided to push back against Joan. I might be the absolute worst, but I also didn't entirely feel like my role-playing lacked merits.

  "It's not like you don't have a point. Your stupid antics somehow managed to be effective in the last investigation." She sighed, resigning herself to the consequences of giving me an inch. "But if you call me a dame again, you'll get to find out what level two Pen is Mightier feels like in your neck."

  "I think you're missing half of the whole femme fatale premise. Yeah, they're supposed to be deadly, but there's also the bit about them needing to be approachable." I instinctively raised a hand to guard my neck. One of Joan's abilities was to turn any small sharp object into an indestructible weapon of near-certain death. It was one of the three abilities I had advised Joan to level up after the last investigation. The other two were Critic which would now allow her to see the statistics and abilities of players and monsters, and Character Sheet which she used on me back in the office. Level two of Pen is Mightier increased the damage of her small sharp weapon by 70%. In other words, even with my increased constitution, she'd probably kill me with a single stab.

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  "Who said I was trying to be a femme fatale. I'm just being up front with you." She smiled. It was terrifying.

  "Understood, ma'am." I gave an awkward salute. My statement and actions were all over the place. A slight growl near my ankle reminded me that I had at least one ally. "Good boy, Dalos. The mean lady won't actually hurt me. Will you, Joan?"

  After a quick glance at Dalos, Joan's shoulders drooped slightly. "Of course I wouldn't. But I'd prefer you treat me with a little more respect. You should know that I'm not a fan of that kind of talk."

  Joan was referring to misogynistic insults. I was reminded of the interactions between her and Sheriff Placeholder from our last investigation. He was a kind gentleman with one hell of a gorgeous mustache, but he also had a tendency to be casually misogynistic. He had literally upset Joan so much that I attained an entirely new ability (Read the Room) just to deal with the potential consequences.

  I missed Sheriff Placeholder... Well, I missed his mustache mostly. But I missed him too, I guess.

  "After all of your posturing back in the office, I figured you might actually be acting with a little more urgency. Didn't you say you wanted to find Pixie Cut?" One of Joan's many talents was the ability to motivate me while simultaneously making me feel like the worst human being to ever live. How did Tara's biggest critic remember the dire situation before I did?

  "You're right." For the first time since stepping outside, I actually surveyed the street.

  It was mid-day, but a thick fog hung over the city. It kind of reminded me of what I imagined London looked like. I could tell the sun was hiding behind the fog, but it was definitely fighting against the elements to provide even the slightest amount of light.

  Like the last investigation, the street was filled with NPCs of all different walks of life. I had to admit that, unlike the last investigation, these NPCs were slightly more on brand with the idea of 1930s Boston. Previously, it just seemed like a bunch of random fandoms and fantasy stereotypes were just randomly dumped on the street. In fact, if I had to guess, that god might have actually just used a random NPC generator to fill out the population.

  I could still make out a few pop culture references among the crowd. One man looked exactly like Chandler Bing. Could that god BE any more lazy? I was also certain that a blonde shirtless man reading a newspaper on a nearby bench was the spitting image of Ivan Drago from Rocky IV. Oh, and Barney the Dinosaur was eating a hot dog across the street, so that kind of stood out too.

  Even with all of the pointless (and likely unintentional) cameos, the NPCs were much better themed for the atmosphere. I really did feel like I was standing in a morally gray 1930s Boston... With Barney the Dinosaur.

  "So, great detective, which way should we go?" Her comment only slightly dripped of condescension.

  Before I could answer, I heard a scream and some commotion somewhere down the street to our left. A few NPCs were running, some were starting to form a crowd at the opening to an alley.

  "I think I'm going to guess we head to the left. Possibly in a random alley."

  "You continue to live up to your name, great detective. How do you do it?" She'd replaced condescension with concentrated sarcasm. Joan really was a sweet person, if she ever felt like it.

  As soon as I made the decision to go to the source of the commotion, I could feel one of my abilities trigger. Pathfinder created a yellow line that marked the quickest path to reach my destination. It had limitations, but since it was one of the abilities that I'd leveled up, I could now travel to locations I had previously visited within one kilometer of my current location. Since I hadn't ever been to the source of the commotion, the line would take me to the entrance of the alley, but it wouldn't continue inside the alley until I could physically see my end location. Pathfinder also worked hand in hand with one of the other abilities that I'd leveled up after the last investigation, Parkour!. The yellow line would take into consideration my passive parkour skills, so it wasn't uncommon for the line to climb up walls, leap across rooftops, and use the heads of hundreds of refugee fish people for footholds as I fled for my life. My newly leveled up Parkour! had no description other than Parkour! Parkour! so I had very little idea if I'd actually wasted one of my points leveling it up. I guess now was the perfect time to test it.

  Following the yellow line, I quickly outpaced Joan and closed the distance to my destination. Much to the frustration of the owners, I leapt across a few vehicles as I looked for ways to cut through the busy street. From the top of a delivery truck, I grasped a street light and quickly scaled it to its peak. From there I was able to look down into the alley. I could also see the source of the commotion.

  A group of pitch black winged demon-looking creatures were swarming around what appeared to be a cave man. I couldn't really say I was shocked, I mean I've seen weirder things in the last couple weeks, so this was just par for the course.

  I threw myself off of the streetlight, and onto a nearby roof. After leaping across a couple roofs, I found myself directly above the one-sided beating. I quickly opened up my inventory and retrieved an item that I'd been itching to use. The item was a segmented staff with some sort of miasma coating. I gripped my weapon tightly and leapt from the rooftop toward the devilish fiends below me.

  I summoned my inner-Donatello as I descended upon my first combat in this new investigation.

  "Turtle Power!"

  I missed all of the actual enemies and landed inside a nearby dumpster. I quickly realized my decreased dexterity stats might be an issue.

  "Cowabunga..." I groaned in pain as I struggled to climb out of the trash.

  From my position, buried in dumpster trash, I was able to see multiple demon heads appear around the top of the dumpster.

  Maybe I shouldn't have run so far ahead of Joan and Dalos.