2035, Deep South America

“Boom, bitches! Guess who just hit 40!” Jeff crowed before stabbing the cold beer can and shotgunning it.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Chandler pounded the other man on the back.

The rest of their team popped their own beers to join the celebration.

“Looks like I’m top dog again! Take that, Brett!”

The man in question smirked and raised his beer to the sky. “To Jeff and being the first of our illustrious group to hit 40… now, anyone want to take bets on how long before I pass him?”

“You ain’t never passing me, bro,” Jeff sneered.

“Bro, you know you’re going to spend the next two weeks in Creamland fucking those fine bitches,” Chandler said. “Brett’s panties are all twisted up now, despite him trying to keep it cool. He’ll definitely grind to get to 40 and past you.”

“No way, bro! I’ve changed. Sure, I’ll take a few days to celebrate, but I’m all about the grind now. Going through the Cabal training showed me my real me.”

“Hey, bitches! Look what I found!” Robert sauntered out of the partially destroyed home with huge cooler in his hands.

“Need some help with that?” Chandler said.

“Nah, I got it.”

“You sure, you look like you’re struggling?” Brett said.

“Yeah, you’ve missed the last, like, five lifting sessions. Got all pussy-weak,” Jeff said.

Robert held the cooler up and extended both middle fingers. “Weak enough for you, cunt.” He dropped the cooler with a thud then lifted it up again. He did a few squats and pressed it over his head a few times.

Boisterous laughter erupted from the two dozen men of various ages gathered around the huge bonfire they had created in the middle of the cul-de-sac.

“Fuck it! What’s in there? It better not be people parts,” Chandler warned.

Faces grimaced.

“Nah, this wasn’t a Meat Parade settlement,” Robert said.

“No shit. Way too weak for that,” Jeff said.

Chandler shook his head. “They were decent. We’ve just gotten much stronger with the levels and the Cabal training.”

“So worth it!” Jeff crushed the empty beer can against his forehead and belched. “Beer me!”

“Get it yourself,” Chandler said.

“I am the highest leveled. First to 40. I am your master now,” Jeff pitched his voice deeper. A beer can thunked off the side of his head. He caught it before it could fall to the street. “Thanks, whoever that was… I will find you and punch you later.”

Chandler wiped his eyes. “Fucking smoke.”

“Sure… the smoke… pussy,” Jeff snorted.

“Fuck off! We should’ve set up the party a few streets over. You know, not in the middle of a bunch of burning homes,” Chandler said.

“Just man up, pussy,” Jeff said. “Fires will keep the monsters away and let us enjoy this night without worrying too much about guard duty and shit.” His eyes drifted over to the trucks a short distance away. “Hey, Brett… I know we get paid based on their condition, but if I promise to be careful…”

“You can’t wait a few weeks?” Brett rolled his eyes.

“It’s been weeks since I last wet my dick. It’s not good for my class,” Jeff said.

“I thought you’d have gotten off enough from the battle?”

“It’s a constant chase, my man. The price of power.”

“The Cabal did warn us. That’s why I haven’t tried to specialize like you,” Brett sighed. “This might be a problem if you can’t control yourself.”

“That’s the point, bro. I’m not supposed to do that. I’m supposed to lean into it. That’s where the power is. Like the Vitiator said.”

“Fine, but just one and do not damage them. I want to maximize profits,” Brett said.

“Wait? What about us?” Robert said.

Twenty-odd sets of eyes turned to Brett.

“Seriously? No!” he snapped. “Once we get back home everyone is off for the next week. You can go spend it in Creamland or wherever else you degenerates want to get off.” He held his arms out wide to bask in the curses they sent his way. “Bitch all you want. We don’t need a reputation for bringing damaged goods back to the market. The Slaver King won’t like that and if we piss him off then it’s a short road to the collars. Do you want that?”

Robert shrugged then he bent down and opened the cooler. “Meats. Beef, pork, chicken. Steaks, sausages and other shit. Good quality too.”

“You’d now what with how much you love sausage,” Jeff smirked.

Robert shot him two fingers.

The others roared with laughter.

“You ain’t gonna be the only one at 40 for long,” Robert said.

“40 today. 50 tomorrow,” Jeff replied.

“Alright. Cook that shit up and we can relax.” Brett whistled. “Tony, Neal.” Two of the youngest members of the team hustled from where they had set up a beer pong table. “Bad news… you two are on guard duty.”

Their faces fell, but they knew better than to argue.

“This is a very important task. You two are going to be responsible for our potential profits,” he gestured toward the cluster of trucks and the iron cages carried in their beds.

People.

Mixed ages and genders.

Some diversity.

They shared bandaged injuries.

Some stared out into nothing.

Some glared with the promise of vengeance.

“Just watch them and yell if they try anything.” Brett said. “Which they won’t if they’re smart!” he raised his voice. “We’ve already shown them what happens if they piss us off.”

“I’m picking,” Jeff said.

“I get the last word,” Brett warned.

“C’mon, don’t cockblock.”

“Profits,” Brett said flatly.

“What difference does one make?”

Jeff slowly walked around the trucks.

A few spat at him.

He smirked at them.

They were lucky that he was in a good mood.

He had kicked ass in that battle and hit Level 40.

He couldn’t wait to hit the spire and find out what his options for Skills were.

Too bad he had to wait till tomorrow when they’d pass one on their way back.

Long minutes stretched as he struggled with his selection.

He had to balance his personal wants with what his class wanted.

The Cabal teachings had hammered that point in.

The more one embodied their class the quicker they rose and the stronger they became.

Proof in the fact that he was the first to 40 in his team.

“Any day now,” Brett sighed.

“Don’t rush me… fuck it. Find Victim.”

“The fuck you going to use a Skill for this,” Brett threw his hands up.

“Shut up!”

Jeff followed the feeling his Skill provided. Like a warm feeling in his stomach or an inviting scent in the wind.

He strolled to one of the trucks in the center.

The people stared at him.

They stood shoulder to shoulder… like a wall or a barricade.

“Move,” he growled.

“Go fuck yourself!” a young woman snarled.

He drew his sword in the blink of an eye and held it to her throat.

A small bead of red wet the tip.

“Haven’t you done enough?” the young woman glared at him.

“No damage, damn it!” Brett roared.

“Move.”

“No.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake—” Brett pointed. “Stun Bolt.”

Bright light shot out and struck the young woman.

She collapsed like a puppet without strings to reveal children.

Jeff found what he wanted instantly.

“Damn it, no,” Brett said. “Kids, untouched ones, are the most profitable.”

“Sorry, my man. My class is singing right now. I might fight you for this.”

“Fine, whatever. Just don’t leave marks,” Brett stomped away.

Jeff hopped up to the truck bed with ease despite his heavy armor.

He opened the cage.

The people tried to fight, but they weren’t fighters or were spent from the battle.

He tried to cut Brett some slack and did his best not to damage them too much.

After a few shoves, slaps and kicks he dragged the girl out of the cage.

She screamed, kicked, punched and bit.

He grinned as he chained the cage door.

“Your anguish sustains me,” he said to the crying and screaming people. “Hey, noobs!”

“Yeah?” Neal said.

“Don’t get any ideas. Profits and all that shit.”

“Bit hypocritical of you,” Tony smirked.

He didn’t like that.

He slapped the teen across the mouth. Lightly.

Tony spun and barely managed to keep from hitting the ground.

“Big words. Big mouth. Get stronger so you can back it up.”

Tony glared at him, but kept his bloody mouth shut.

“Good. Your not a pussy, but you’re smart enough to know when not to throw hands. Know your place. Work hard. One day you’ll be where I’m at.”

“Let go, monster!” the girl kicked at his shin clanging off his greaves.

He shifted his grip to hold both of her wrists in his one big hand. He lifted her up and headed to the least undamaged-looking house.

Whistling all the way.

The front door was already partially off its hinges so he kicked it off and strode in with the wriggling girl held at arm’s length.

He climbed the stairs and into the master bedroom.

“Hey, girl… was this your house? Did you still have parents? Brothers? Sisters? Not everyone’s got a full set of those these days.” He peered into her face. “Although, you do look young. Before or after the spires?”

She spat in his eye.

He leered not bothering to wipe it off. He squeezed his hand and relished the pain in her tightly shut eyes.

“Better for me,” he shrugged. “Yeah. You look like a post-spires baby. 11? 12? Are your mommy and daddy alive? Or did a monster get them? Or maybe we did?”

“Fuck you! I’ll kill you!”

“Those are my words. At least the former,” he sneered.

He tossed her onto the bed and climbed on after her with a grin.

“Man, how the hell am I supposed to do this without damaging the merchandise,” he muttered.

Distraction cost him.

The girl kicked him in the nuts.

“Sweet, sweet pain,” he grunted. “My class likes it,” he snaked his tongue over his lips. “I’m better than the others. I’m special. Would you like to know why?”

The girl tried to get way.

He ignored the kicks as he pulled her back and slammed her into the bed.

“I’m a Sadistic Warrior of Lust,” he said into her ear.

She froze.

“You’re a smart one if you understand what that means. You’d be surprised how often I have to explain to others.”

He gazed into her eyes.

Bright blue.

So pretty.

He raised a hand to stroke her blond hair.

The girl’s eyes flashed.

He froze.

A sudden weight settled on him.

As if every part of him was suddenly several times heavier.

The girl reached for his belt.

He tried to move but it felt like he was stuck in glue.

Hot, biting pain flared across his face. From cheek to forehead. Through his right eye.

The girl stabbed again, but he was a warrior and she was a child.

He caught the blade.

This time he hadn’t been caught off-guard.

Tough Skin kept it a thin scratch.

He ripped the knife out of her hand.

She squealed at the pain of broken fingers.

He drew strength from that.

She twisted away and slipped out from under him.

He moved slowly with the fatigue of someone that had been fighting for days without rest.

“Second Wind.”

Reinvigorated, he rushed after the girl catching her at the foot of the stairs.

He shoved her to the ground.

She rose and the loud crack of his palm on her cheek sent her spinning back down.

“Stupid. Now you’re really going to see what I’m all about,” he growled as he planted a huge boot on her chest. “Lust is just about the sexual stuff. It could be anything really. For power, recognition, shit, even things like booze. As long as I can indulge in my pursuit of whatever it is. Sadism is taking pleasure in pain. Mine. Yours. Doesn’t have to be physical. Could be emotional and shit. I just like dealing it out,” he shrugged. “Although, I have to give you yours. You might’ve ruined my eye.” He couldn’t see anything out of his right eye. He touched it experimentally and came away with bloody fingers. “Damn. The guys won’t ever let me hear the end of this. It’s probably too late. Our healers aren’t exactly that great and it’s a long trip back to civilization. So… what’s with that shit you hit me with? Was it a spell or a Skill? You didn’t say anything. Are you one of those?”

The girl spat at him.

One side of her face had grown puffy with an ugly purple bruise.

The sight made him happy.

“Whatever… it’s not my deal. Brett’ll figure it out. It might be enough to keep him from bitching about ‘damaging your value’,” he snorted. “Now, before we really get started. I’d like to tell you about the good book. Do you know it? Well, there’s a thing in there that I’ve always liked. Something, something… ‘an eye for an eye’.” He leaned down and grabbed the girl’s face roughly. Held the knife to her uninjured eye. “Brett’ll be pissed, but like another thing the good book says… ‘better to ask for forgiveness after then to ask for permission before.”

The girl whimpered.

The Sadistic Warrior of Lust grinned.