Vol. 3 Chap. 85 Knock Knock! Vengence Calling!

Vol. 3 Chap. 85 Knock Knock! Vengence Calling!

The dead drop was a lot bulkier than usual. Generally, there was only a crystal which shattered once Truth had learned the contents. This time, there were arrays, talismans, a few disposable charms, and not one but several informational crystals. Truth assumed there must be some kind of security consideration there, as each crystal could hold far more information than a person could read in a lifetime.

It seemed that the old exorcist was done with distraction and was now moving on the attack. Lists of sites to raid, personnel to assassinate, resources to steal or destroy, propaganda to promote- it was a veritable wishlist of insurrection. Truth directly ignored the apartment blocks Merkovah wanted flattened. He might not have a moral leg to stand on there, but he was prepared to adopt the phantom limb and balance.

This did lead to the next curious point in the briefing packets- Merkovah clearly wanted Truth to work with others on a coordinated campaign. He wanted that very badly. Presumably because it worked better, as demonstrated by his literally centuries of experience. On the other hand, he knew Truth didn’t trust his methods or people enough to take a single meeting with an asset outside of Jeon, so what odds were there of him working with others in Jeon? So he adapted.

The reason for the multiple crystals was soon revealed. Each contained sets of “Suggested Objectives” with contingent actions that went with them. For example, “Kill Fredrich Li, Head of Strategic Planning, VG Marine and Mercantile Insurance. If killed before Day X, post a sign claiming responsibility as the Real Jeon Provisional Army. If after Day X, also kill Dorothea N’Ganat, Human Resource Coordinator, VG Marine and Mercantile Insurance.”

Break ins, burglary, arson, an alarming number of murders, a non-trivial number of mass casualty events, it read like the “dream journal” of a particularly edgy young teen. Except it was a six hundred year old exorcist who also dabbled in international terrorism. A fairly bleak thought, so Truth amused himself by imagining Merkovah trying to explain the situation to his other operatives.

“It’s quite straightforward. I have a pawn who may, or may not, assist your mission without notice or explanation, at times of his choosing. I did pay him in advance, but instead of the money you will get, I fobbed him off with top tier spells, a Level Four Elixir, several national treasures and a literal angelic sword. And I set him up with a particularly lovely, intelligent and kind student of mine. Who comes from a very rich, very influential family. They are devoted to one another.

“So, technically, you are getting paid more money than he is. This proves how much smarter you are, and why you can be trusted with the REAL plan. The good news is that he will cause Internal Security even more headaches than he causes you. The bad news is that I have learned some pain cannot be erased with magic...”

Well, it was nice to imagine, anyway. Merkovah was quite right about one thing- Truth didn’t trust any of his notional co-workers. If there was one key takeaway he had found in working for Merkovah, it was that the old man was far from omniscient. Worse, Siphios intelligence was probably hopelessly compromised and corrupted. He didn’t have direct evidence for that principle, but there was a crucial bit of circumstantial evidence.

Even with all the ancient spells, the blessings that came directly (or almost directly) from God, the angelic weapons, even with everything, they had never beaten Starbrite. If there were some shadowy victories hidden in the long twilight struggle, Truth didn’t know about them. From what he could see, Merkovah had been getting rinsed for longer than most countries had existed.

So no. He would not be joining with his “brothers in arms” and marching shoulder to shoulder into the glorious revolutionary future. Merkovah had, in fact, paid in advance. He would do his very best to clear the list and achieve their big goals. And that would be as far as that would go.

He checked the final crystal. It was everything he had ever dreamed of. They even had a big corporate headquarters. Just off the highway, near a convention center, a sports arena, several hotels and it even had a subway stop just blocks away. Delicious. He was suddenly hungry for mushrooms.

He looked into the city glow- night had come down on Harban. The offices would be empty. It would be hard to wait... but necessary. Time to find his hotel. Before that, though, he had to resume the identity of the Prince. More thoughtfully, this time. Understanding where it was coming from. Accepting what he liked, and keeping an eye out for what should be rejected. It wouldn’t be easy, but the process was important. The best argument for a boss on Earth is a boss in Heaven, but his ambition had never been to be King Rat.

The Prince strode into the Shalia Hotel with the natural arrogance of someone coming in from the roof, not the ground. The Maid was waiting for him by the door. He hadn’t told it that he was coming. The Hellbeast had simply conformed to its given nature and waited dutifully where it would be needed.

“Prepare a bath and dinner. You know my requirements.” L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.

The Maid bowed. “As you command, your Highness. Please, allow me to show you to your suite.”

The suite was staggeringly luxurious, even by Truth’s rarified standards. Every thread of every loop in every tuft of carpet had been carefully selected and engineered with sensual comfort and impeccable aesthetics. It didn’t simply match the drapes, it was in dialog with them. They combined, collaborated really, to provide an environment who’s subtle beige and gold accents both relaxed and empowered the extremely powerful guests enjoying the suite.

It was nothing short of a large, luxurious apartment, with a formal dining room in contrasting dark wood. Wood that matched the grain of the coffee table in the dedicated sitting area and the leather topped desk. Presumably the desk was there for signing very important contracts. Or treaties.

“That is correct, My Prince.”

Truth thought about it, and shrugged internally. It made sense. What did the child of a business family need? Business administration skills, and the spells to support it. The Universal Spell let him make use of any magical devices he was likely to come across in the course of business, and the admin spell let him do administrative work. Totally sensible, totally reasonable, and under the present circumstances, about as useful as a glass hammer.

“Very well. Does he have any experience in marketing or sales?”

“Some limited experience, yes, your Highness.”

“Good. Groom him. This time tomorrow, he will replace someone at a company I designate. I will provide all the necessary details of the person in question.”

“As you command. I must caution you, however...”

“Oh, I know. Prepare the ritual room. We will reinforce his... priorities, as well as confirm your identities. After dinner.”

“My prince is most gracious. Your servants thank you for your consideration.” Butler didn’t salivate, but only because it would be out of character.

Truth woke refreshed, if a little disoriented. The bed was just too big. He quickly shook it off, enjoyed his morning routine and set about the work for the day. Apparently, the manager of the hotel wanted to meet him. Truth declined. The Prince is not available at this time. Perhaps later.

He snuck out of the hotel, crept to the subway, and adopted the persona of a drone shuffling off to a dead end job. It came upsettingly easily. Just one more talisman maintenance tech, in an era where the failure rates were shooting up “for no reason.”

He got to his stop, walked the few blocks to the office building, found the right floor, walked straight past the surprisingly heavy security, and found the right suite. Then the right room. He leaned over and whispered into the Secretary’s ear.

“Oh, drat! I think you forgot his 9:15 appointment with that person. Time to put in some ear plugs and stop anyone from investigating. Again. God, if only you didn’t need this job so much.”

The secretary was already wedging the plugs in before he finished, looking so done with life. Then, to Truth’s mild horror, they fished out noise blocking earmuffs to go over the plugs. He had just been guessing. Just who was screaming at this guy?

Not that the prick didn’t deserve it.

Truth walked into the office, closed the door, and locked it behind him. The surveillance and recording spells in the room were all Level One in power, easy to disable. The man in question was Level Four, but that wasn’t going to be a problem either.

Truth plucked the man out of his seat and threw him up against the ceiling hard enough to break the plaster. Then, as he fell, Truth used gravity to fully express his appreciation for the man. Transmitting the gratitude through his boot and into the falling man’s testicles.

“Daragha Kolch, CEO of MegaShroom and former CFO of XextraTee.” The unnoticibility had worn off, but he would still look like a blur to the vomiting, crying man. He liked the idea of being a terrifying, abusive, but unidentifiable force in the executive’s life. However briefly.

“We don’t have much time together but I want to show you exactly how much your work has influenced my life.” He ripped off one of the man’s shoes, slapping the wooden heel into his hand with a satisfying thump. “I hope you take advantage of it. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”