Jake continued to scale the building wall until he reached the second floor. To his left was a shattered window. He first grabbed the bottom edge of the window frame with one hand, then with the other. Hanging from the window, he pulled himself up and, with a powerful motion, shoved his body through the opening. He landed on the floor of the room beyond and launched himself into a roll before getting up on his feet.
Jake quickly scanned his surroundings. He found himself in a spacious but mostly empty room. No mutants were in sight, and no sound reached him from the deeper parts of the building. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to fight any mutants, he turned his attention to his wounds.
The ragged hole in his knee was less severe, and most of the flesh had nearly grown back by that point. The wound in his shoulder was still healing, gradually closing as his flesh regenerated. At least his mana was no longer leaking out.
An idea occurred to him. Back when he was a survivor, he could access a battle log on his PDA to monitor both the damage he inflicted on enemies and the damage he sustained. He’d never attempted to access that menu as a mutant. Remembering it now, he decided to give it a try. After all, his Enhanced Intelligence functioned like a PDA in so many ways.
He closed his eyes and gave a mental command to summon a combat log. He wasn’t sure if it would work, so it was a pleasant surprise when a piece of information he’d just requested actually materialized in his mind.
You have been wounded for 17% by Explosive Damage.
You have been wounded for 8% by Explosive Damage.
It was remarkable. He could access his BattleLog just as he had on his PDA when he was a regular survivor. He knew he would make good use of this feature whenever the need arose.
He glanced at the information once more. The first bullet that hit him in the left shoulder had inflicted seventeen percent damage, while the second bullet, which struck his right knee, caused eight percent. Both bullets had exploded, dealing explosive damage. Regular bullets would have dealt significantly less damage to him. Also, Jake remembered acquiring an upgrade for the Enhanced Regeneration skill to develop greater resistance to various elemental damage types. Had he not done that, the two explosive bullets that had wounded him would have dealt much more damage to his body.
Another thought occurred to him. Could he somehow check his resistances? Was there maybe a specific menu for that? He decided to give it a shot and issued a mental command to summon his resistances. To his mild surprise, it actually worked: a new piece of information emerged in his mind.
Elemental Resistances:
It appeared he had always had access to his menu—he simply had never attempted to access it before. And since there was no tutorial on being a mutant, he had never been informed about having the Resistances menu. He had to learn the ropes of being a morphus all by himself, discovering new things on the go.
He returned his attention to the information. He noticed that all his elemental resistances were at 10%, clearly due to the upgrade he had acquired for Enhanced Regeneration the other day. His Pierce resistance was at 12%, while his Mana Bleeding resistance stood at 7%. The latter was likely influenced by his Magick attribute, while the former was formed by his Body attribute, along with various skills and upgrades that improved his overall durability and made his body more damage-resistant.
All the other resistances were currently at zero. The Mind Control and Stun resistances were pretty much self-explanatory. As for Chaos and Ethereal resistances, he could only guess what they protected him against. He attempted to call up additional information on them, but nothing happened.
All these thoughts raced through his mind in mere seconds. He was eager to think about each of his resistances more carefully, but he had no time for that. The sudden screech of tires from the street drew his attention as the pickup truck neared the building Jake was in, reminding him that at the moment, he had more pressing matters than studying his stats.
Opening his eyes, he jogged across the vast, empty room toward the windows facing the street. His injured leg still wasn’t fully healed, causing him to move in a staggered, unsteady manner. Slowly, keeping most of his body concealed, he peeked out of one window at the street.
Below him, he saw the pickup truck turn and pull a few feet into the alley before coming to a stop. The Demon manning the machine gun peered into the narrow alley stretching before the idling vehicle, a perplexed look on his face. Jake was certain that when he dashed into the alley, the pickup truck hadn’t even reached the intersection yet, so its two occupants couldn’t have seen him enter it. In spite of that, they knew for sure where exactly he had gone, which meant they had some means of tracking him.
“Where’s that bastard?” the shooter growled, hatred dripping from his voice as it echoed through the shattered window Jake stood at.
These guys seemed to genuinely hate him for some reason. But why? Was it because of the helicopter he’d brought down a few days earlier? But how had they learned it was him who destroyed it? Sure, somebody saw him after the helicopter crashed, but those guys weren’t from Los Demonios. Perhaps Catalina had tipped off the rest of the gang about him, but that scenario made even less sense. Or maybe Los Demonios had been on his trail even before that incident. After all, before he destroyed the helicopter, its two occupants had been looking for something—or someone—though it was hard to tell if they were looking for him specifically. One thing was for certain, though: the two bandits in the pickup truck had definitely been looking for him, and they had been at that for a while now. They clearly even had a method of tracking his movements.
Jake couldn’t wrap his head around it. On one hand, he could come up with plenty of explanations for why he was being hunted, but on the other hand, without any evidence to back up his theories, they were all just speculation for now.
However, he didn’t have the luxury of time to ponder any of that right now, because the shooter suddenly shouted to the driver, “Tell me where the bastard is! What are you waiting for? Check the scanner before the freak gets away from us again!”
Jake knew he was about to be discovered. What options did he have? Well, there obviously were only two: either fight or run. If he ran, the Demons would continue to track him down, but he needed to know why they were hunting him. He really wanted to understand their motives. The problem was that he wasn’t in the best shape to fight as his wounds weren’t completely healed yet. On the other hand, he currently had an element of surprise working in his favor. So if he chose to attack, he had to do it right now.
“It’s right here!” the driver shouted suddenly, panic creeping into his voice. He had obviously just checked the scanner and pinpointed Jake’s location.
There was no time to think. Flee or fight? Jake made a split-second decision.