Mercer

> *"Trying to get in my way?"*
>
>

Mercer is a Bystander Survivor and STR type Warrior, who has the potential to be promoted to Mythical Grade.

## Background

“You a soldier? And you put me in danger like that? Don’t you realize how vital I am to the Commonwealth?”
“I apologize,” Mercer replied.
Freshly downed dead were sprawled around Anthony, accosted by flies. Anthony smacked each of them square in the face and said,
“That's it. Both of you, remove your shin guards.”
Anthony kicked them in the shins before either of them could remove their equipment. George bit back any noise that gave away the pain and looked over at Mercer, whose face told a different story of holding back intense rage instead of pain.
“Hmph. Don’t slack off next time. Mercer, I'll be keeping an eye on you moving forward.”
Anthony turned and left before Mercer could reply, and George followed close behind to serve as his bodyguard. Mercer retreated from the area without skipping a beat to avoid the villagers that whispered amongst themselves after witnessing the altercation.
Mercer arrived at the outskirts of the village. Behind him was a trail of violence created in an attempt to take out his frustrations on any of the dead in the area. Dilapidated fences blocked the dead along the border. Along with the fencing, piles of the dead attracted flies in droves. A voice he didn’t recognize addressed him,
“What're you doing here? It’s too late to try and hit your quota now.”
He took down the dead in a swing, each with a wood ax that looked almost unwieldy in its size. Mercer pointed at the piles with his chin and asked,
“What’s going on with all of that?”
“Evidence of the quota,” the axman replied.
The nameless axman witnessed Mercer’s bloodspattered body armor and supposed that he was different from the parttimers he was used to. He continued,
“Most of the people that come out here for work are only parttimers. What happens if you wipe them all out? No job after that. They set a body count quota at just enough to keep the fence from collapsing to keep us from running out of things to do.”
Mercer felt like he faced a hidden truth of the Commonwealth he hadn't realized. He was shocked by what the man said and frustrated with his ignorance when he replied,
“I only joined the Commonwealth recently. I used to be a marine, so they assigned me to escort dignitaries. That's why I have no clue about what goes on outside of that."
The axman afforded Mercer a level of tragedy in his expression before handing over the ax stowed in his belt.
“Name's Jackson. Your build is better suited to an ax than a bayonet.”
Jackson taught Mercer how to handle the ax beginning from the basics and up. Jackson panted as Mercer continued relentlessly practicing different swings of the ax and said,
“How’s about we take a break. I’ll tell you a story.”
Jackson’s eyes darted back and forth until he came up with a suitable story. He took a breath and began,
“I used to have a wife and a son. She ran a small shop back in the village. She would always take our boy to the shop with her. One of those days ended with them turned. I protected them. I hoped that the day we could cure whatever this is would come. I came home one day after chopping lumber, and they were gone — part of the fence around our property was destroyed, and they were nowhere to be seen. I have no idea where they are now.”
Jackson’s face showed signs of past happiness become grief. He looked at Mercer like he would at his son.
While Mercer was eating lunch at Jackson's home after training, he heard a scream from outside. When the two of them rushed out, they were greeted with the sight of the dead swarming into the village. Part of the fencing had collapsed, and the dead poured through it. George ran to Mercer,
“Mercer, Anthony ordered the parttime dispatchers to escort him. Apparently, his house is nearby, and he's going back to get his ashtray or some stupid thing.”
Mercer realized that Anthony was taking care of his personal matters with the men that normally defended the fence and that the fence would give without the men there to clear out the droves that piled against it. Mercer gripped his ax, knuckles turning white, and made a beeline for the break in the fence. Jackson followed close behind and called to him,
“Request reinforcements.”
Mercer ravaged the dead that poured through with no thought to his lack of protective gear. He became surrounded by the dead and put up his guard out of habit. The sight of his bare arm didn’t have time to phase him as he continued to mow down any of the dead that came close. Jackson hacked through swaths of the dead. The sheer number of them made it impossible for Jackson not to be bitten, but he made it to Mercer and collapsed onto his hands and knees, bite wound hidden from sight. He patched up the fence with scraps and materials kept at designated points along the fencing for just such an emergency repair job. Mercer unyieldingly defended him as he worked. The situation finally seemed under control when a group of reinforcements ran to them from a distance, and Jackson collapsed onto his back and heaved a sigh of relief. The bite wound Jackson had sustained became apparent, and Mercer started, dumbfounded. Any urge to rejoice in their success died instantly. With the faintest of smiles, Jackson said to his friend,
“I’ve always regretted not saying goodbye to my wife and son in person when I had the chance.”
Jackson closed his eyes without any other words. Mercer knew what had to be done, but he still had to use every bit of will to keep his weeping silently to himself so as not to mar his friend’s brave final moments. Jackson's eyes remained closed. Jackson’s face continued to carry a smile even after it laid a foot away from his body.
George arrived and helped Mercer dig a grave for Jackson, and the two of them returned to the city to be taken before Pamela and Anthony to be tried for insubordination. Mercer could only feel proud of himself.
“The only wrong I have committed is protecting everyone. He should be the one to receive punishment for maneuvering the men for his own goals.”
“He's lying, Pamela. I found the dead and moved the soldiers.”
Mercer stared daggers at Anthony and turned to leave briefly before returning with a red bindle. He untied the cloth, and the bloody lumber was displayed for everyone in the room.
“This blood belongs to my friend.I had to kill him after he was bitten defending the breach in the fence that happened directly because of that man's actions.”
Pamela appreciated the ax, pondered for a moment, and looked back and forth between the two parties before she stood and announced,
“It is inappropriate to disobey a superior's orders, regardless of intent. So, you'll be under house arrest for two weeks.”
Pamela strode out of the room, avoided eye contact with Mercer, and Anthony spewed excuses behind her. Mercer looked down at the ax in his hands and held back a disappointed sigh and instead became furious at the Commonwealth's hypocrisy. He stomped out into the hallway and wiped Jackson's blood from the ax.

## Skills

 61 | Fighting Spirit | Increases ATK by 4% each time Mercer damages an enemy. Stacks up to 10 times.

## Recommended Gear

Mercer is a decent Survivor for all modes. It's recommended to leave his Personal Gear below level 10 or max it out and give him the Asyl's Best Shoes or Asyl's Best Ammunition as Special Gear.