Chapter 871 – To patch a hole

Chapter 871 – To patch a hole

‘Feels good when things move smoothly,’ John thought while he walked out of the Fusion Capitol. In a pleasing display of administrative efficiency, he had managed to organize an urgent, out-of-schedule meeting of the House of Commons. Despite it being on such short notice, everyone but two of the representatives managed to come in and discuss the Fusion Token Currency Act. It was passed onto the House of Exceptionals with minimal changes, who tended to it on the day directly following. In their case, the regular session was actually pushed back one day to make things line up optimally.

The House of Exceptionals grilled John a lot more on how he expected this to work. Unsurprising, since that setting was a bit more familiar, thanks to the lower headcount and long-lasting nature of the membership. John said what he could in public. The suddenness of the meetings and subject matter discussed attracted journalists from all across the place. John noticed a distinct swelling in interest from the global press, made evident by the breadth of ethnicities represented in the watcher’s area.

Through a mixture of rhetoric and private talks during the breaks, he managed to get the House of Exceptionals to agree to the deal. It helped that they weren’t fundamentally opposed, they just wanted to know what was going on.

With those two instances cleared, the entire thing was brought to the parliament on Friday, which was the only bit of all of this that was on the regular schedule, and voted in after just an hour of further discussions and thoughts. As John had hoped, there was pretty much universal agreement that a movement towards a currency they controlled and had intrinsic value was better than the mundane dollar.

‘Dramar will like this news. Good proof that he was right in going with me... with Fusion as his pick.’ John tried to not think of the accomplishments of his entire organization as his own. Given his position and proclivity for self-aggrandizement, he had both good reason to take a lion share of the credit and try to control himself. ‘I mean, I was the one who wrote that entire twenty page proposal in two hours... with Scarlett’s help... and it’s not like I am going to be the one to mint the coins or even design them. Still, this entire thing is going underway because I agreed to it and the Guild Hall is an extension of my power, so this is really all happening because of me. And Dramar.’

While he wrestled with himself about how much credit he could reasonably assign to himself. He noticed that he was being approached. Silently, oddly enough, but not silent enough to forego the Gamer’s keen senses. Once the person was close enough to grab John’s sleeve, he could already feel the vibrations of the steps on the ground and the vibrations in the air. It may not have been as sharp as Beatrice’s, but his spatial awareness was still far above even most superhumans.

Since neither of the two maids that were with him reacted to the approaching person, John’s quick mind already knew he was safe no matter what. ‘I don’t think I should let myself be seen getting surprised in public,’ he decided, knowing of all the journalists and politicians still around. Before the person could grab John by the shoulder, the Gamer turned around on his heels. In one smooth motion, he grabbed the hand with his own and began to shake it. Then his eyes registered who he was talking to, and in a friendly tone, he said, “Horace!” as if all of this was completely normal.

The House of Exceptional’s member had a frozen expression. It appeared the man had tried to get John by surprise. Perhaps it was an attempt of the man to prove to himself that he wasn’t completely outclassed. Brawny, scarred and at level 70, he had been a big fish in what was now the federal state of the Meltpot. He could have snuck up to whoever he wanted in the land he had previously dominated. John could break his hand if he decided to intensify the grip of their one-sided handshake. Squeezing just a little bit, he reminded Horace that he was supposed to talk as well.

“Mister President,” the state representative then blurted. “Uhm... may I... have a word?”

“Of course,” the Gamer responded, having half an idea where this was going. “It’s getting a bit colder these days, but there have been some evergreens installed on sections of the garden. We might as well have a look.” ‘Keep untrustworthy people from following us. Journalists, mostly, but House of Commons members and most Exceptionals as well,’ he sent an order to Aclysia and Beatrice. ‘You know who we can trust.’

‘Of course, Master,’ Aclysia answered. She and Beatrice followed the two men for a little while, then stopped at the entrance of the gardens.

The plants that covered the terrace of Fusion’s Capitol had lost much of their green. It was October and the leaves turned to a yellow coat that would soon tumble to the dirt and the stone paths that led through the gardens. An armada of gardeners ran through every day to make sure those that did indeed land on the pathways were swept away as soon as possible. It was a highly controlled environment.

“Out of interest, what did you try to accomplish there?” John asked, once he was sure they weren’t being followed.

“I... just wanted to know if I could do it,” Horace admitted and hung his head. Not in shame, John knew what shame looked like, more disappointment. The man was getting used to being a smaller fish, but it was clear he had preferred it when he wasn’t surrounded by much more powerful people. John couldn’t blame him. Knowing what it felt like to lose control over his surroundings, he sympathized.

“You can’t, not if you target me,” the Gamer gave it to him straight. Then he tried to build him up again. “You are still one of the one hundred most powerful people in this federation. Not necessarily when it comes to combat, but when you combine personal might and political influence, you are doubtlessly important. Fusion isn’t here to be a hindrance to you, Horace. It’s an opportunity to be more than a local warlord.”

“You aren’t bothered by this?” Horace wondered.

“Not really, no.” John raised an eyebrow. “What? I might be possessive and protective when it comes to my girls, but I’m not unreasonable. Metra was the blunt tool that I sent into the area to break resistance. That people would expect me to keep her from attending a meeting that’s supposed to be peaceful can be expected, really.” He extended his hand and brushed over the sturdy needles of a nearby tree. “She wouldn’t think it particularly fun anyway. Lovable berserker that she is.”

Horace grumbled something that sounded vaguely insulting and stopped immediately when John looked in his direction. The tension was back. John realized that it was his fault this time. He was staring a bit too intently. There was no hostile intent on his part, but Horace was still oversensitive to stepping on the Gamer’s toes.

“Anything else?” John repeated in a calm tone.

“They demand that you show respect when you arrive at the meeting, otherwise they will walk right on out of there,” Horace continued.

“They ‘demand’ respect, is it?” John hummed. “I will oblige them, I suppose. The strong do what they can while the weak suffer what they must. Something more?” He saw it in Horace’s eyes.

“While they are fine with you bringing everyone but Metra, they want only you in the negotiation room.”

“That so... tell me, is there anyone among them that would have the power to challenge me?” the Gamer wanted to know.

“Not to my knowledge, no.” Horace shook his head. “If there was, I don’t think we all would have been left to our own devices. The balance of power in the region was only disrupted when you took an interest in it.”

“Then that is acceptable as well.” John nodded, while planning a few precautionary measures. The teleports of his familiars were currently off cooldown, so he could conceivably walk into a trap and it would only cost him his mana and some HP to defend himself. Because of Gamer’s Body, he could walk into the proverbial fire and come out intact. Unless it was hellfire. “When is that meeting?”

“If I get back to them right now, I could set it up for tomorrow,” Horace promised.

“Do that then... No, actually,” John decided differently, “set it up for Monday. I want to have a relaxed weekend and I need to organize other things.” ‘And I don’t want to give them too much respect,’ he thought. ‘They hold land without any natural resources and are in my sphere of influence. No need to rush things and seem overeager to meet them.’

“Monday then,” Horace agreed, once he was certain John wouldn’t change his mind again. “I’ll let you know time and place as soon as possible.”

“Do that. Good job, Horace,” the Gamer complimented and pat the older man on the shoulder.



Their positions were clear.