Chapter 693 – The Troubles and the Cuddles

Chapter 693 – The Troubles and the Cuddles

The great thing about Abyssal clean ups after catastrophes was that rescue missions were a non-factor. Everyone could evacuate with the ease of raising their hands. Unless a Fateweaver was suppressing the process or they were so tremendously unlucky that they had both their arms incapacitated in some fashion.

None such cases had been reported to John so far, meaning that they were looking at a simple case of rubble pollution and damage reports. The former, people could solve remarkably quickly with a few shovels, carts and cars. 185 metric tons of rubble sounded like a gargantuan amount, until it was subjected to 200 people at the peak of (and sometimes slightly beyond that) human physical capability. Add magic to the mix, the ruins of a house could be disassembled in a ludicrously short time.

The latter, John had to run around the city and decide what to do with. The burned-out skyscraper was the most pressing task at hand. Although the true extent of the damage could be vastly lower or higher than what first readings indicated, initial reports stated that the fundament of the whole thing had been weakened to a dangerous degree.

It was quite clear that, had it not been for Chemilia, the Lake Alliance would have strategically blown up structural weak points so the whole thing would topple over. There was a limit to how much a skyscraper could slant while it collapsed, but the spread of destruction would have been remarkable regardless.

Failure or not, John now had to face the decision of what to do with the building. Three possible roads were open to him. He could tear it down in a more controlled fashion, he could command reinforcements to be made in an attempt to save the skyscraper or he could wait for more detailed information to come in.

As always, each of these options had any number of risks and costs associated with them. Demolishing the skyscraper was quick and painless, if done correctly. Cleaning the entire thing and refurnishing the insides could be more costly than just putting up a new one. Raw money questions aside, John took a liking to the idea of changing the skyline inside the Hudson Barrier up a bit with more Abyssal structures. As impressive as these towers of concrete, metal and glass were, they didn’t have hovering balconies (or whatever else one could want).

Due to the sheer amount of living space they had open to claim – not to mention the number of other projects they were already chasing – John hadn’t looked into doing much in the realm of architecture yet. All he had done on that front was to make sure certain areas of the Hudson Area, particularly Manhattan and North Brooklyn, weren’t transferred from Fusion ownership to private hands. That way, he had the space whenever he wanted to get to it.

A few decades ago, there would also have been the concern of losing whatever government documents may have survived the fire. As it was, John was sure that they had back-ups of basically all important data in digital form. They would need to take some time to set things up again, but nothing of absolute value, like criminal records or the register of citizens, should have been harmed meaningfully.

What spoke for keeping the building around was the symbolic value. An attachment to the real USA, whose political system John so happily copied things from. He also happened to think that his home nation, for the most part, had nice architecture. On that front, he was still salty that the Hudson Barrier didn’t actually stretch to the Empire State Building.

‘Well, at least that means it couldn’t have gotten blown up in this attack,’ John convinced himself of the silver-lining, as he finalized his decision. ‘I definitely can’t do nothing. The weakened structure will eventually collapse under its own weight, and I am not having that disaster on my hands. Question is if I want to keep it around or not, really... looking at it...’

John gave the partly blackened tower of glass a final analysis. Its once polished, glass surface now looked like the spotted carapace of a silver ladybug. In the real world, this building was the One World Trade Centre. That it was that particular building that now threatened to fall down on NYC was an irony that did not evade the Gamer.

Regardless, it was just a giant tower of glass. Impressive due to the size, but not all that great to look at. John decided that it was best removed and replaced with something more magical in the future. Outfitting the entire structure with magical connections had been a pain in the first place, so John could save himself some money if he put something in its place that had more sensibility.

‘Now, how do I tear down I giant skyscraper quickly?’ was the next question John had to ask himself. Once the thing was reduced to rubble, he could leave it to the clean-up crew again. As this was a rather large building, John didn’t really want it to just be imploded, but every other technique was likely too slow to take care of things before it collapsed on its own. ‘Guess I don’t have a choice... this’ll cost some mana.’

“...Okay, Eliza, new rule,” John decided, “you don’t get to refer to your wetness as ‘filthy’. Because I don’t like the mental image.”

“Really?” the blood mage bowed forwards, her head and falling hair taking up most of his vision. Only a little bit of the sky, quickly fading from purple to black, was visible around her. “Is it as bad as daddy?”

“No, it’s like two tiers under that.” John would have made supporting gestures, but he was busy comparing the squishiness of Eliza’s thigh to Aclysia’s ass. By a slight margin, he deemed the ass to win. There was just more jiggle there. “I just like eating you out and when you say ‘oozing filthy juices’ I can’t help but imagine you have like a cold down there and that Nurglite plague I wish upon nobody. Crotchrot is evil.”

“Alright? Will try not to piss you off with that shit, I guess.” The blood mage was nicely docile on that front.

Gnome and Sylph soon returned to their position and John turned to Aclysia. The weaponized maid let him know where else there were immediate decisions that had to be taken. Not too many more, but enough to keep him occupied for a little while.

Until a little past midnight, John moved around the city. He told people what buildings to tear down, which to reinforce and, more often than not, did the brunt of the work required on those fronts while he was already there. He did some dirty work, talked to some of the people in a normal fashion, held a few speeches in official capacity and ultimately did his best to leave a positive impression.

Once there were only tasks he could have accelerated but didn’t require his specific attention, the Gamer called it a night and went back home. The first thing he did back in the Palace was take yet another, way more thorough shower. One of the usual, Newman LifestyleTM variety. Eliza was fucked against the wall, Rave rode him in the bathtub, Aclysia and Beatrice rubbed him down with soaped up sponges and their hands, Undine sucked his dick whenever there was an opening and all other kinds of erotic scenes unfolded. There wasn’t a second John’s cock wasn’t getting worked in some fashion and the girls he couldn’t pay attention to were busy with each other.

Once they were all meticulously clean and smelled nicely from the shampoos and cologne, they relocated their get-together into the living room. None of them put their clothes back on. Only Lydia kept wearing sexy lingerie, rather than being completely naked. Contrary to expectations, the orgy didn’t escalate further from there. While things definitely remained sexual, with all the nude women around, what followed was more of a giant mountain of cuddles.

With immediate desires taken care of, everyone had a bigger urge to indulge in closeness than yet more perversions. John found himself at the centre of an ever-shifting exchange of hugs and compliments on the couch. All of the uncertainties of the day, all the anxiousness and existential dread, broke into a life-confirming hour of simple honesty.

It warmed his heart, as his naked girlfriend laid against him. Her smooth skin was more pleasant to brush his palm over than silk. “We really are a bunch of crazies, aren’t we?” she asked with a smile, kissing his neck. “To take this day and end it by hugging each other with smiles and no tears.”

Lydia came along and sat down on John’s lap, facing towards him. Her brilliant red lips closed in on his, and wordlessly they engaged in a prolonged kiss, sealing the Gamer’s answer before he could even think of it. It was full of passion, the queen writhing on top of him, her moderate breasts pressed against his chest and her slick pussy slickening his recently dried cock.

“I observe it to be a sign of beauty,” the auburn-haired royal stated, her heated tone shimmering through her well-chosen words. She said something the Gamer found wonderful in that moment. “That John Newman’s harem can come out loving life even when faced with a terrible present. We are stronger than the uncertainty, are we not?”

John took the queen by the waist and gently, slowly, made her slide over his dick. The gasp she let out was raw sensuality. “We are the best,” the Gamer decided, it felt like an inadequate answer. There was just nothing that could measure up to what she had said.