Chapter 615 – Double-down

Chapter 615 – Double-down

John’s fist kept colliding with the table as he failed to completely suppress the wild desire to punch something so hard it shattered into a thousand pieces. At the same time, the constant knocking only annoyed him further. “And I had just fucking calmed down,” he growled, reading the latest update.

In response to Beatrice’s appearance at their set, the network had just taken a photo of her at the reception desk and written an article that could be summarized with: we release our VODs a week after the actual program, we will not be bullied by an angry tyrant into changing this policy.

The photo was a masterpiece as well. They shot Beatrice from behind, at a moment where she was leaning onto the desk in what could be interpreted as a threatening manner, while also hiding her inexhaustibly passive expression. Thanks to her outfit and white hair, this much was all that was needed to identify her. John had to concede that battle and recall her from the premise, before her presence could give them even more fodder.

So, they were doubling down on their narrative. John couldn’t quite work out the station’s motivation though. Was it really just for the clicks? Did they care that much more about increased traffic for a few weeks than they did about their integrity? No, that couldn’t be it. If it was just them, then there was no way so many other media companies were following their reporting by echoing their sentiments in their own articles.

In other words, there had to be a reason. John had already sniffed one out, a very likely one, but whether or not it was true, well, a number of calls would confirm that. Grabbing his business phone, the Gamer looked for the number of Berden Drechsler. A tooting sound reached his ear when he confirmed the call.

“Ah... hello, President Newman...” the hesitating tone with which he was greeted already caused the Gamer’s expectations to sink tremendously. “A pleasure to hear from you. Do you have anything... you want to talk about?”

John noticed everything dodgy about formulation. From the way he clearly knew what was going on to him intentionally dodging the phrase ‘anything I can do for you’ just to avoid any potential requests on that suggestion. “Yes,” he answered regardless in a hopeful, almost chirpy tone. He needed to sound like he was unfazed, as if the whole thing really didn’t matter. Because it actually didn’t, all that mattered about this whole affair was what people believed to be true. “See, it seems parts of the media have decided to go about smearing my name. Pretty baseless, most of it. I already published a written response to disperse initial misconceptions, but it would be preferable if we could start some sort of broadcast.”

“Ah, yes, I see... well, I do agree that it would be a good idea...”

John closed his eyes and silently, slowly inhaled. ‘Here it comes,’ he thought.V/\IssịT n0(v)eL/b(i)(n).co/m for the b/est novel reading experi/en/ce

“...but I am afraid I have no time for it. Your investments have given me a lot of things to work on, aside from Sunday being a bad time. You know, all the media people are at home and all that...”

‘Sure, let’s pretend that it takes the same amount of effort to get a small response video done as it does to create a press conference,’ John held his bitterness in his thoughts as he kept a smile on his face to keep his tone genuine. There was nothing to be gained from him trying to force anyone to do something they didn’t want to. The best outcome there would be that he mitigated the damage of public perception at the cost of his reputation with the actual ruling people. “No, no, I understand. I must say it’s rather disappointing, however.” A little shaming could maybe achieve something though.

“D-don’t get me wrong, Mister President!” the old investor stammered into his phone. Berden stood to lose an essentially bottomless well of lending money if he fucked up here, so John understood him to be quite nervous. “I will look into this and make sure my media team takes appropriate measures to support you!”

Appropriate likely translating to something that was utterly neutral. Lip service to both sides at once, a little message that made clear they acknowledged the thing going on, while doing their best to keep their heads down. “I am sure you will,” John said, lowering his tone in the process. “Have a nice day, Mister Drechsler.”

He barely waited for the response before ending the call and rubbing his face as if he just awoke from a bad dream. Then he selected the next number. Over the course of two hours, right up until noon, he went from one local contact to the next. The answers he got were always the same. “I would, if I had the time, sorry.” “I don’t know enough to weigh in, sorry.” “Ah, I’ve flown out of town for today, sorry.” “Can’t help, sorry.” “I am not important enough to be of help, sorry.” “Sorry.” “Sorry.” “Sorry.”

“Spineless, unambitious cowards,” John cursed when he had gone so far down the list that he didn’t even need to bother. No one, not a single one of the businessmen, had the will to stand up to anything. Their strategy was to keep their head low and just wait for the whole thing to pass them. Just don’t invite controversy, that couldn’t possibly work out. Avoid at any cost.

It was remarkable how people with that amount of wealth and power were that afraid of a mob on social media. Then again, and this was something he only got after some more pondering on the issue, there was another layer to this than the usual fear of boycotts. This was the Abyss, sufficiently ruining one’s reputation could lead to fireballs flying at the face. Especially a danger for the leadership of Amacat, who all had powers or abilities focused around administration rather than combat.

John growled at nothing in particular as he fell back against the backrest of the couch. Whatever video response he did, without support from the local community, it had next to no reach where he actually needed it and would do no better than his text already did. It was pretty clear, at this point, what the intention of the media attack was. A simple delay in Fusion’s annexation efforts.

John: Noooooooo, you are not doing this to me right now, are you?

Scarlett: Time will tell.

Scarlett: OR WILL IT?!

John: I should have never shown you TTS.

Scarlett: I have read every article on 1d4chan by now.

Scarlett: My memetic chaos knowledge is through the roof.

Scarlett: Tzeentch is objectively the best chaos god by the way.

Scarlett: Anyhow, I have a gamble I can take. It’s less of a plan than it is dangling bait in front of people. Also, telling you right now would be boring.

Scarlett: So just sit there and wait, big boy.

John: Alright... I trust you, you know that, yes?

Scarlett: And I will have fun with that~

“Right, so Scarlett is being a massive cunt,” John exclaimed, to the confusion of nobody.

Regardless, Rave couldn’t help but make a joke, “Ya mean she is pulling a you on you.”

“She is pulling a Richard on me, yes,” John corrected and agreed at the same time.

“Are ya admitting you’ve basically become the same as that furred dick?”

“It’s absolutely undeniable at this point that I have the same dickish tendency to wave around my intellectual ‘supremacy’,” he had raised his hands to put that last word in air quotes. “Anyway, apparently we have to sit and wait now. So, since there is nothing else to do... Aclysia, get me another drink. We are going to just waste the day in the name of carefree sex, booze and videogames, I guess.”

“Oh no!” Rave shouted, acting out the greatest shock she could. “Those are my three favourite things! How will we deal with this crisis?”