"Oh, you'll get far in all that, definitely. With enough skilled warriors in this city to make a one-being assault inadvisable and seven godlike Overseers with powers likely on par with or exceeding your own around, you'll either die repeatedly – since nobody can truly die here outside their own world, they just die and are forcibly revived – or be locked up like the stereotypical evil monstrosity."
Julian, having sensed the danger present about two minutes earlier, was himself apparently ready to fight, though he stood a dozen metres away. His depth-perception-obfuscating vantablack coat wrapped around his torso, his vibroblades (Furor and Ikazuchi) were equipped in their scabbards and The Revolver was at his hip, loaded with its five remaining everything-buster antimatter rounds. His bionic left arm was set to move with inhuman quickness, capable of drawing The Revolver in less than the blink of an eye.
His face was the epitome of nonchalant, his tone almost bored. Concealment of emotion was something he was proficient in – and he'd seen enough outrageous things in his time here to make the monstrosity that the woman rode feel like something he saw last Tuesday.
"Anyway, the only people who have a vested interest in the park, apart from the Overseers who like as not would simply snap their fingers and be done, technically don't. Their manor just ended up here and not elsewhere. If you expect the very people who ended up here the exact same way you did to be helpful when you're calling them peasants, then you're power-drunk."
9.10
Julian, having sensed the danger present about two minutes earlier, was himself apparently ready to fight, though he stood a dozen metres away. His depth-perception-obfuscating vantablack coat wrapped around his torso, his vibroblades (Furor and Ikazuchi) were equipped in their scabbards and The Revolver was at his hip, loaded with its five remaining everything-buster antimatter rounds. His bionic left arm was set to move with inhuman quickness, capable of drawing The Revolver in less than the blink of an eye.
His face was the epitome of nonchalant, his tone almost bored. Concealment of emotion was something he was proficient in – and he'd seen enough outrageous things in his time here to make the monstrosity that the woman rode feel like something he saw last Tuesday.
"Anyway, the only people who have a vested interest in the park, apart from the Overseers who like as not would simply snap their fingers and be done, technically don't. Their manor just ended up here and not elsewhere. If you expect the very people who ended up here the exact same way you did to be helpful when you're calling them peasants, then you're power-drunk."