I Woke Up 120 Years After The Apocalypse-Chapter 22: The Mirage

"Barely two days after we parted ways, and here you are again, the Cursed one,"Zarod said.

"Indeed. I actually have a few things to say to you,"Akram replied, taking control of the conversation.

Akram knew he had the upper hand over Zarod, and Zarod himself acknowledged it. His defeat had not been luck. Akram had more than one trick up his sleeve.

"Well then, I’m listening,"Zarod added, perched on his wall, the same dry biscuit still in his mouth.

"I’m here to recover the goods stolen from Vulkania by your men. You’re not unaware that a good part of your recently acquired treasures came from us, right?"Akram asked, leaning against the object hidden beneath the tarp.

Zarod answered with a gesture, inviting Akram to continue his monologue.

"Instead of coming to reclaim what we’re owed out of pure vengeance... we, the Vulkans, are here to offer you a deal."

Zarod raised a hand, signaling for him to stop, and began chewing on his biscuit.

"Mmhmm... dunno about you, but... I was in the middle of a meal here, mmhmm... And if you want to join us?"he said, ordering the gates to be opened.

"Ahem..."Elliot hesitated, clearly unsure of what they were supposed to do.

Akram looked back at his men, then at Yashyn, who answered with a simple nod.

"Okay."

The Vulkan delegation entered the bandits’ HQ, straight into the lion’s den.

Inside, Akram saw something far removed from the clichés usually associated with bandits, such as chaos or a savage hierarchy.

No. In reality, Zarod had disciplined his troops. And although Akram had already noticed it during their battle, he was just as impressed once the gates were crossed.

Small shops, coordinated training sessions with instructors, squads, workers, logisticians... Everything was properly managed.

All of it under the supervision of the chief, Zarod.

Zarod led his guests toward a banquet set up in the very center of the HQ.

"Impressive, huh?"he said, a wide grin on his face.

"It’s hard to believe at first... But we’re not just bandits. We have ambitions to be more. Much more..."

Once there, Zarod collapsed onto a bench. The Vulkans across from him all remained standing.

Baron observed his surroundings. He could clearly feel the murderous intent directed at their small group. He chose to stay silent, but one of his hands remained close to his weapon.

"I’m listening. What do you have to offer?"Zarod replied, his proud smile still fixed on his face.

"We’re proposing a commercial arrangement between Vulkania and your camps,"Akram said directly.

Zarod slightly tilted his head, directing his gaze toward the covered object the group had brought along.

"I’m guessing that’s a reconciliation gift?"he sneered.

Akram chuckled lightly, keeping his posture firm.

"No. It’s our first deal."

He then nodded toward Elliot.

Elliot nodded back and moved. He untied the tarp from the cart and pulled it away in one swift motion, revealing what was hidden beneath.

Akram stepped aside, allowing everyone to see his invention.

A generator.

Zarod held back a laugh.

"You came all this way to sell us a generator? Seriously? You take us for monkeys or what? You think we don’t have electricity here?"

Akram raised a finger, signaling Zarod to wait before jumping to conclusions.

He stepped back a few paces and pointed to a specific part of the generator.

"Unlike your generators that run on fuel, this one is autonomous."

Zarod narrowed his eyes and followed the indicated spot.

It appeared to be some kind of reflective panel.

Zarod raised an eyebrow.

"You sure we’re from the same planet? Why are you putting weird mirrors on your generator?"he said, clearly unimpressed.

"We are from the same planet. Let’s just say... I’m not from the same era,"Akram replied confidently.

The smirk on Zarod’s face vanished. He stared intensely at Akram.

"So what I was told was true, huh..."

Told what? By who? Akram wondered, uneasy.

"I should’ve known... Your exploding arrows, stealing my relic... Tch. What a pain."

"And what can your autonomous generator do?"

"It recharges using solar energy."

Everyone present except the Vulkans exchanged confused looks. What Akram was saying sounded completely incoherent to them.

"This panel absorbs sunlight and converts it into energy. To power any electrical device,"Akram continued, once again improvising a lecture.

"The efficiency isn’t exceptional, I’ll give you that. I haven’t yet designed the system to reduce heat loss..."

"Efficiency is thirty-five percent. And I’m here to negotiate the prototype. More efficient ones will come later."

Zarod rubbed his beard, sniffing.

"And how much do you want for it?"

Elliot stepped forward and spoke in Akram’s place.

Having arrived recently in this world, Akram had never really dealt with money. While he was sheltered in Vulkania, he knew neither the currency nor its value.

"Three thousand Scrips,"Elliot said.

A short silence followed. Then Zarod burst out laughing, along with his entire HQ.

"THREE THOUSAND?! BAHAHAHAHAH!"

He kept laughing for a good thirty seconds. The Vulkans, meanwhile, remained serious.

Zarod wiped his tears and spoke again, still laughing.

"Oh—fuck... You guys really got me good, honestly..."

"But..."

He raised his head, suddenly serious.

"What’s stopping me from just taking this prototype for free, right now?"

At those words, bandit crossbows were raised, swords and katanas drawn, all aimed at the Vulkans.

Akram looked around calmly and let out a breath.

He then pointed at Yashyn.

"Him."

Yashyn stretched once, then twice, looking anything but threatening.

Then, in a single instant—within a blink of Zarod’s eye—he vanished.

So fast it looked like teleportation.

"Ah. I see,"Zarod said.

Yashyn was suddenly behind him, sitting on the table, his blade pressed against the bandit leader’s throat.

"That outfit... that agility... that sword..."Zarod said, keeping his composure.

"You’re Yashyn the Mirage, right?"

"Bingo,"Yashyn replied calmly, his head close to Zarod’s.

The bandits stared at their captured leader, stunned and afraid.

"The Mirage? The real one? Fuck..."some muttered among the crowd.

Akram raised an eyebrow, clearly unaware of his protector’s reputation.

Yashyn withdrew his blade and casually returned to his original position.

"Two thousand five hundred. Final offer,"Zarod said, rubbing his throat.

"Deal,"Elliot replied.

"The instructions are engraved underneath,"Akram added casually.

Zarod ordered one of his men to fetch the money.

Within minutes, the deal was done, and the Vulkans quickly left the bandit HQ.

When the gates closed behind them, Zarod let his frustration explode.

He grabbed and brutally beat one of his nearby men.

"FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK."he shouted in rhythm with each punch to the man’s face.

He finally let go of his human punching bag, the skin on his knuckles torn, the bandit’s face completely disfigured.

"WHO THE FUCK IS THIS AKRAM BASTARD?! FUCK!"he roared.

I’ll kill that bastard. I swear I’ll kill him... You’re dead, Akram. You and your whole crew are dead, he thought, consumed by rage.