"It's immediate effective level." Wade said, pacing back and forth now. "The System is constantly watching at all moments, doing judgement calls individually for everything right? Why not level too?"

Leon looked back, and tilted his head. "Effective level?"

"Video games don't do variable levels because that's just a headache to code anywhere. A level 20 in some MMO is always going to have the same stats and abilities, that doesn't ever change after they're setup. And if their stats are tweaked by the devs later, they'll of course change the level to match. Would be stupid to put the damage values of a level 1 mob up to three gazzillion, and not up the level while at it."

Wade looked over to the wall, where the health bars for the three level 31 humans waited.

"Real life is different. Maybe an animal like a bear would stay the same level from start to finish in its life right, but people? We can change up how dangerous we are by just getting more skills and gear, right? Or become less dangerous by being on a diet or something and having less energy to work with. Point is - there's a lot of things in real life that aren't going to be black and white like a bear. And hell, even a bear is probably going to move around on how dangerous they are depending on if they're starving, elderly, sick or perfectly healthy."

Leon nodded, "That making some sense. So, how many things is being used in calculating threat?" He hummed to himself, looking over at Eri. "Weapon yes, base body ability too. Eri knowing how to use greatsword better shows higher level there, so skills and knowledge?"

Wade shook his head. "Wrong direction to think from. We're examining a physics-defying system that's running individual judgement decisions on everything happening around us, all instantly. For all we know it might even factor the basic terrain we're standing on top of as part of how dangerous someone could be and that wouldn't strain it at all. I think it's easier to start looking for things that aren't affecting its judgement."

Eri clicked his jaw once, hand coming off the doorway while he waited for the other two to end their ramblings. It was all about that strange magic system Wade and Leon used. The Skeleton never saw anything like levels, quests or announcements. But he had a vague notion of something tangential.

He remembered waking up before a presence. Something vast. Then getting a general sense of information; that Wade was his summoner and link to life and he was coming back to the world again. An equally vague suggestion he should generally try and keep Wade alive if possible.

Eri hadn't needed any more reasons to follow behind and help. He'd died already. Every day that passed was an extra day to him.

The massive presence that had yanked him out of the aether more or less nodded and sent him on his way to Wade without any other discussion.

In the meantime, the humans had devolved to chatting about how an expert monk martial artist might actually be extremely low level simply for the fact they're pacifists and would never kill anyone else in a one on one fight. Or if that level would be higher because killing them would be far harder in that same fight. Did their own goals against the enemy also change their level?

But the ultimate question: Was all this a good thing?

The skeleton mimed the question, which took a bit of effort but worked out in the end.

Wade thought about that for a moment. Then nodded to Eri. "Yeah, it's a good thing. It means when we see something as a level, it probably is a better indication of the immediate threat we could expect. More than just stats in a void."

Leon looked over to the wall. "Then, the level 31 humans…?"

"They've got weapons that would put them at level 31. In this case, I can take a guess at what they'd be."

Grenades.

And Wade realized something even better: "It also means those are going to be useful in Azdrial!"

"How you knowing that?" Leon asked, more curious.

"Because my dear Leon, we have Selena as our theoretical test subject."

"Not sure she would be appreciating that." Leon said, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"I mean the System's telling me that with all her gear and spells, she's at level 25, right? And these guys on the other side of the wall are all level 31. So, the system thinks someone using grenades can beat a paladin with all her spells. Ergo, grenades are effective."

And speaking of, he looked over to Eri who watched. The level 37 skeleton when he only had his hands to throw down with. "Damn Eri, the system thinks even without anything on you vs a grenade on the other end, you'd still win."

The skeleton still didn't know what a grenade was other than the vague idea of an explosion from the language blessing's whisper. But he did know when he was being complimented on something, so he puffed out his chest and flexed his arms.

It made his trenchcoat look real weird. As if it was being held up by sticks rather than an actual person inside.

But nevermind all that, the most important lesson to all this was that earth tech could be effective.

And that meant: "Guns, Leon! Guns!"

Wade had a feeling, he could wrangle some out of Zin. Because now he knew he could bargain with his last mana potion - given Eri was a walking mana reserve battery himself.

And Leon had the golden ticket right in his back pocket - the mana crystal.

Oh boy, the things they could drag out of Zin with that.

Eri yanked the door open. The duo had prepared for possible issues, but there wasn't all too much they could do. Zin was still far above everyone's level, which meant if that archdemon wanted to double-cross them, they'd be effectively dead.

Stale air rushed out, carrying the smell of rust and concrete. The skeleton strode inside like he owned the place, longsword resting on his shoulder as he marched forward.

"Your skeleton friend has no survival instinct." Leon chuckled.

Wade took a dusty breath. "Well, to be fair he's already dead."

The entrance opened into a reception area that hadn't seen a receptionist in at least a decade. White cheap plastic chairs lined one wall. A water cooler stood empty in the corner, and there was a poster for some kind of workplace ruleset.

Another set of doors led into the warehouse proper. Eri had already opened those up and was rapidly walking through. Wade quickly limped up behind the skeleton. A minor pain point for now, Wade was buying as much time as he could to let his mana bar naturally heal back down. Later tonight, he'd be handing over the healing ring to Eri and going full tilt in healing this limp until his mana bar went back to concerning amounts.

On the other side of the doorway sat a few more chairs out in the open, with several crates at the center and three people chatting with one another. The fourth person in that group was Zin - the archdemon Wade had come here to meet. He'd been standing, one foot tapping the ground until he turned his head to look at the newcomers.

The other three looked more grizzled. Like warehouse workers, except… not. The vibe wasn't there, Wade couldn't quite put his finger on why. And all of them had a holster with a gun, which was probably not OSHA approved apparel. They looked like rednecks that had been civilized by LA, and hardened by the same measure. Military maybe? Private security?

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Zin looked happy to see Wade and Eri, and then frowned when Leon walked in behind. "Well, well well - Leon Davoski, hey there, buddy, pal - look who decided to crash a private party!" Zin's head looked past him straight to Wade. There was accusation written all over those beady dark eyes.

In a flash he was right next to Wade, one hand spinning him around, while the other walked two fingers on his shoulder up to his ear. "Now, stop me if I'm wrong here champ, but wasn't there supposed to be a teensy-weensy, itty-bitty heads-up about additional guests?!" The archdemon licked his lips and brushed a hand over his head, voice going right back to jovial and sleazy. "Not that I'm complaining, of course! Love surprises. Can't live without a good surprise. Really gets the blood pumping…"

That last sentence was muttered with almost murder in his voice.

"He means a contract." Wade said looking over to Leon, already understanding what this archdemon was fuming about. "He didn't have time to write one out for you."

Leon laughed, walking right up to the demon in question, then held his hand out. "Leon Davoski, Ex-championship boxer. Pleasure to meet you, mister…?"

Zin froze, one arm still wrapped around Wade's neck like they were best friends.

The three behind Zin started snickering. "Yeah boss, introduce yourself." One said.

"It's only polite." The other said.

"Aren't you, like, obligated to do so?" The last one said, "Go on now, don't make us look uncivilized here."

Zin looked down at Leon's offered hand, grimaced, then unhooked his hand around Wade's neck and slowly reached a gloved hand out to return the shake. And gave a deep resigned sigh. "Butler. You can call me Butler. My real name is a little too infamous among circles I want to avoid presently. And my charming nicknames are equally terrible for completely different reasons. So Butler will do for now, as that is technically my current occupation."

Now the three other humans on the chairs started actually laughing. "Boss, you all right if we call you Butler then?"

"Both start with B, he won't notice." Another said, elbowing the first.

"Mental note here, boys - we're gonna have ourselves a little performance review later if this keeps up." Zin said, smiling deeply with the kind of sharp shark smile that promised someone's day was going to get ruined soon.

The three behind whistled and jeered anyhow.

"Is okey, have many wild stories myself presently." Leon said with a wink. "Secret safe with me, Butler."

"Hah. Not without a binding contract it isn't."

"And who's the other three behind you?" Wade asked.

"My three favorite possibly rebelling comedy acts back there?" Zin had already wrapped around Wade like a snake, opening up his satchel and pilfering one of the mana potions out, then sifted through the rest of the contents all while he continued with his rapid-fire chatter. "Consider them my demolition 'consultants'. Real go-getters in the 'making things go BOOM' department. Charming fellas, always come prepared with samples of their work. Very professional, very thorough, very... explosive in their methods, satisfaction guaranteed or your mana potions back." He said, all while waving around the pilfered potion in hand. "Don't quote me on exactly that of course, for legal reasons it's just a jingle." The demon proceeded to stick his nose right on the glass vial and take a deep breath in. "Oh yeah baby, that's the stuff."

"Do they, uh, know? Guessing they do since you mentioned the contracts you offer and you got my potion out in the open. Which is still mine, by the way. Until goods are exchanged."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah we're getting to that buttercup. Let a man enjoy his hobbies why don't ya." He gave a few more disturbing sniffs, then slowly put it back into the satchel.

Wade watched him the entire time, a look over his face.

"What? You surprised to see I'm working with people?" Zin asked, closing the satchel up with a few fond hands pats. "Got to crack some eggs to make an omelette. In this case, a criminal empire like mine needs some loyal minions. Ones I don't need to keep hiding everything behind my back. Done that, got the mug and sold it long before I packed my bags up for Earth. Not looking to replay that particular part of my history, thank you."

"So this kid's the contract you're working on, Butler?" The center one asked, looking over Wade.

Zin's eye twitched. "Pros and cons with loyal minions. One hand, loyal. Other hand," He stared back at the three with a glare. "Complete pain in my neck."

They grinned back. "Thought it'd be the Russian behind him." The man sitting with the others said. "How old's this kid to be dragged into all this? Also, not going to introduce us to the crew here? We're going to be teaching about explosions real soon, be best friends and all that."

Zin grimaced a second time, then coughed in his white gloves, standing up straight. "Allow me to introduce you to three pests under my employ: Osmalla, Chawky and Macrom. Not their real names of course, except maybe Osmalla. Don't ask how the other two got their nicknames, long story."

Chawky patted a crate ahead of him affectionately. "We got your goods here. All neatly wrapped up, and we even screwed them all tight ourselves."

"Attention to detail is what it is." Macrom said, nodding along.

"Can they.. uh, be trusted?" Wade asked, then looked over to the crew. "No offense."

Osmalla looked over to Zin, "Yeah Butler, can we be trusted? I don't know, Macrom here looked at me real funny this morning."

"Trust is for suckers and people who forgot to bring leverage." Zin tugged his suit to be flush to his chest again, then slicked back his hair as usual. "But yes. Turns out cold hard cash plus a little 'hey, magic's real and the world's about to get real interesting' goes a long way with the mortal crowd. Who'd have guess, eh? They know a good thing when they see it, and frankly, my little operation here is the best gig any of them will ever have. I do so love a thriving business venture, and so do they."

The left one raised a beer can in mock salute. "Butler's got it right. We're invaluable to his operations now."

Zin closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep calming breath, and when he opened them again he was a full on salesman.

He spun on his heels, grabbed the first crate and opened it up.

"Ta-da! You asked for a miracle, I delivered." He said, tapping the lid. Inside the crate were ten grenades packed in foam. "Your dead man switches have been carefully and meticulously applied to all of them, as per your insane last second request. It was incredibly difficult to do this, real engineering had to go into each of these puppies to get them up to spec but we pulled through uphills, both ways in the snow, despite the emotional pain and turbulence. Quality goods Mr. Wade. Pull the pin, and then hold down the spoon here. Moment you let go, five seconds to boom. I expect good payment back."

The other three snickered behind.

Leon looked over them, then back to Wade, then down at the grenades. "There's no modifications on any of them. This how grenade works normally."

Zin froze in place. "A-hah. Ha. Since when does a boxer need to know anything about grenades?"

"KGB secret agent, remember?" Leon chuckled. "I know you watch the show with Play, we not playing coy, da?"

Wade raised a hand, "I get Zin's trying to scam me out more mana potions from me for basically free work here, but I actually do need something more precise with a deadman's switch. That's my bad for not making it more clear. Five seconds is too much time. And I can't work with an unknown range of seconds like 'around five seconds' I need precision and reliability."

Zin frowned. The other three behind him immediately stopped snickering to one another, sensing work.

"What... exactly did you need done then Mr. Wade? Mind you, all sales are final, no take-backs, and definitely no 'this exploded wrong' complaints. So be highly specific with your request this time."

"I need it so that the instant I let go of the switch, it explodes in under two hundred milliseconds."

"Ah. I see." Zin turned to the three behind him.

They in turn stared back at Wade. "Oi, kid. Nobody told us anything about timing." Macrom said. "That changes everything. And you'll blow yourself up, straight deadman's switch here, emphasis on the dead."

Wade stared back, resolute. "No. I need it to explode almost immediately, but I need it to be incredibly reliable on the timing. There's a reason for that."

He turned to Zin, then opened up his satchel again, where the glow of the mana potions leaked out. "You want these? Yeah?" He waggled it like he would a bone to a dog. "Got to earn them. We made a deal, I want my grenades custom made to my specifications."

The archdemon looked down at those with a hunger.

And Leon just started laughing at the insane American when he realized what the man was planning. "That taking huge gamble on each attempt." He said, "Wade, you certain about this? Make mistake, kaboom. Round over."

"Nobody lives forever." Wade answered, eyes locked on the archdemon the entire time.

"Haaaaa. Har har har," Zin muttered, "Everyone's a riot these days."

"We had a deal." Wade said. "Grenades setup like I need them, and you get your mana potions. And an IOU for another."

Zin blinked once, slowly, then turned to look behind him. "Well gentlemen, can it be done?"

The three looked back to Zin. "We're not doing anything that would get us on the FBI watchlist for terrorism, right?" Macrom asked. "Because that's something I ain't going to jail for."

Osmalla brought a hand out and started counting down on his fingers, "Smuggling weapons, killing cartel members, robbing drug dealers, jaywalking - I'm good with all that. But if we're making a suicide vest for a child, that's getting out of hand boss."

Zin sighed, a hand rubbing his brow as he considered. "I know where he's going with this, it's… well, I can't honestly say it's not a potential suicide vest if he messes it up." He sighed, groaning. "Just… assume magic, because it basically is. Just good old-fashioned magical gambling with a timer."

Two of the bomb experts looked right at a single one. "Chawky, you're the one with 15 years under your belt, you're up to bat." Osmalla said.

"Thanks for volunteering, you're a real one." Macrom added in right after with a pat on the back.

The one named Chawky rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine. I guess I can mess with the fuze. Pin striker hits about as fast as you want in the first place but I can try and measure it with a stopwatch. No chance we can do anything with digital precision until I go visit radio shack for some spare electronics. When do you need it done by? Wednesday?"

"Uh, right now."

The bomb engineer stared back at him. "Oh for fuck's sake."

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