LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 53 - Down in the Park
In the desolate echoes of loneliness, we find a haunting symphony of dystopia, where the cold embrace of technology suffocates the warmth of human connection, echoing cautionary tale of a future estranged from our very essence - Nova Verse
Operation Grand Slam (D UNKNOWN)
In the heart of the park, encircled by lush trees, a round man pushed a metal cart with a squeaky wheel. The side of the cart was adorned with images of ice cream and company logos, shined from the dappled sunlight. His belly hung heavily over the cart's frame as he halted in the center of the sun-kissed park. A water fountain, decorated with half-naked cherub statues, poured water from a gilded pitcher with a gentle, continuous trickle. In the distance, the outline of the Azure Tower loomed in the distance through the trees.
Donning a sapphire blue vest with silver trim, he fastened buttons that strained against the fabric's sheen. After a meticulous self-appraisal in the side mirror, he arranged waffle cones and opened tubs of vibrant, multicolored ice cream. He pulled out a blue fez from beneath the cart and adjusted it on his round potato-like head. Then flipped the black tassel behind him.
With a contented smile, he inspected his cart and flipped a sign to display 'OPEN.'
Nearby residents continued their daily routines, while a young boy and his mother paused to purchase a scoop. The boy's face lit up with joy as the ice cream man skillfully filled the cone with a delectable icy treat. After spinning it around a few times he handed the cone over.
Observing from a distance, Jones leaned against an oak tree, periodically peering through a handheld scope with her dark brown eyes.
Unfurling a worn strip of paper, she read the message once more: 'WW suspect's traitor! Meeting: Azure Park Fountain at 11. Contact: Ice cream man.'
D.T. Jones had staked out the area, her watch confirming the ice cream man's timely setup and serving his first customer at precisely 10:59.
"If nothing else, you're certainly punctual," she murmured.
Checking her blue flower-print dress and discreetly appraising her appearance to ensure she blended in with the other women in the park, Jones approached the ice cream vendor. With a swift snap of her fingers, she crumpled the paper, watching it incinerate in a brief flash. Surveying the array of flavors in the cart, she found herself drawn to the sight of vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, cookies 'n cream, and a vividly green pistachio.
"One cookies 'n cream, please," she requested, dropping a single BC coin into the jar with a clink.
As the ice cream man wielded the long stainless-steel scoop, he dipped it into the tub of strawberry.
Jones's tone grew firmer as she corrected him, "I said cookies and cream."
With a deft motion, he transferred the scoop onto a cone, placed it in her hand only to swiftly retrieve it, then teasingly flipped it around as Jones reached for it.
Irritated, Jones said, "I'm not here for your games."
"Cookies and cream not good, strawberry better, but you the customer," he replied gruffly, replacing the strawberry with a scoop of vanilla.
However, his antics continued as he spun the cone around her hand and then her head, skillfully evading her attempts to grasp it.
Exasperated, Jones abandoned her request, resignedly stating, "I said I wanted cookies and... never mind."
"You like pistachio better," the ice cream man asserted, offering her a tissue along with a cone filled with pistachio.
Yet again, he deftly withdrew the ice cream, leaving her with just the tissue.
With a sigh, Jones retreated from the vendor and his playful scoop, settling onto a bench beneath another oak tree.
“Huh, pistachio, does taste good,” Jones admitted as she began to sample it.
As she rested, the rustling branches above. The light danced across her face. Then a brief flash of shadow caught her gaze, bringing her attention down to her feet. A shadow, no bigger than a discarded stick a child would play with as a makeshift sword moved by her feet. The shadow twisted and coiled around her leg, halting at her knee. The feather-like touch felt cold and devoid of warmth.
D.T. Jones moved to brush away the shadow when a soft voice addressed her, "We shall communicate like this."
"I have a level-5 mental barrier. How are you getting through the telepathic defenses?" Jones demanded, scanning the park for any suspicious activity.
The people around her seemed oblivious, going about their daily routines without a second thought.
"We vibrate your bones for communication. Unless someone touches you, this discussion is private," the nondescript voice explained. "Now, speak into the cone."
Examining the cone, Jones turned it around to find a button microphone, no larger than a baby’s fingernail, nestled between the ice cream and waffle cone. Feeling somewhat ridiculous, she reluctantly complied, realizing she had no other option given the circumstances.
"Why didn't you follow the plan and prevent WW from taking the fortress?" Jones said into the cone.
"If you had kept me in the loop about your little escort mission, I could have helped. Thanks to your lack of foresight, the White Witch is set to receive a promotion for her actions!" the shadow retorted.
"What do you mean by promotion?" Jones asked with hesitation.
"You're behind the times, no wonder the White Witch is running circles around you. She beat five crews at 10-to-1 odds, captured Team Red's prized fortress, and thwarted the planting of a double agent. Thanks to your incompetence, WW's the darling of the Azure Council and more popular than ever with them. Any request she makes will be fast-tracked to instant approval, without the usual interference from you or anyone else," the shadow explained. “She’s on her way right now to receive her promotion.”
"What?!" Jones exclaimed, tossing the ice cream aside.
The shadow receded beneath the park bench as Jones hastily made her way towards the Tower. Oblivious park-goers were forced to step aside as she stormed past at full speed, determined to fix what she could about the unfolding situation.
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