Vol. 3 Chap. 87 Becoming Your Own Boss

Vol. 3 Chap. 87 Becoming Your Own Boss

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Truth sat Tony down behind the desk and shoved a recording crystal into his hand. “Go through everything you do in a day, everyone you call, all your relationships with your co-workers, all of it.”

“Do you have the faintest idea what that actually means? I don’t have “ordinary” days. Every day is completely booked, putting out fires, managing people, training people, figuring out strategy, managing political relationships, keeping an eye on suppliers and sales and marketing and... everything. Yes, I delegate. Or, I guess, “Daragah” delegates. But you have to supervise the people you delegated to. It’s an insane job.”

“Good thing I don’t want MegaShroom to survive, eh?” Truth “smiled.” Tony turned pale. “And I wasn’t asking.”

Truth fumed. He did have some ideas about how he wanted to do this, but he had to admit, now that he was here, they were pretty half baked. Did I want this to not work, at some level? To have the excuse to just... kill everyone and burn it all down?

they made you do it.>>

I mean... Truth struggled to articulate what he was feeling. If it’s morally justified-

>

It has been a minute since I read something fun, now that you mention it.

>

Are you feeling ok? That’s burn adjacent at best.

>

Weird how?

The System was quiet for a moment and then made a frustrated noise. >

Truth looked down. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He crouched down and squinted. Was there the tiniest little shimmer near the soles? Maybe. Or not.

“Hey Tony? Was there somewhere in the building “Daragah” was terrified of visiting, or you felt an aversion to? Some part of the building you just don’t remember ever seeing?”

“Not really? We don’t own this building- we lease it. We really try to minimize headcount at headquarters, feeling that the MegaShroom promise is of a world full of CEO’s, independent entrepreneurs-”

“You really did claw your way to the top of the pyramid, huh?”

Tony looked faintly ill. “Supreme Frozen Mythril Galactic Evangelist. One of only twenty in the company’s history. Some things become instinct.”

“Yeah. They do.” Truth vividly remembered his mom’s repeated insistence that she was a “business woman.”

“How long until the assassins or lawyers come?” Truth asked.

“I don’t know. We could just... run, you know.”

“That would be silly. In either case, they will be necessary.”

“Right. Sure. I’ll just get back to recording the information, then.”

Truth made a little humming noise of approval. He’d use the time to figure out how this would all plug together. His current best idea was to insert the former Barton in as his proxy CEO, and push a new scheme where “ambassadors” would be eligible for valuable discounts and prizes if they excelled in brand promotion... one of strong, nationalist, traditional, Jeon values, but with that forward looking MegaShroom twist.

“Hey, if you wanted to promote the idea of a modern take on a traditionalist lifestyle and outlook, what would you call it? TradMod?”

“No, just call it Traditional. Whatever you want promoted is “Traditional” and anything you want considered bad gets called “Modern.” It doesn't have to be real, or make sense. People will fill in the gaps on their own, make it “real.” Tony was pretty focused on the crystal, and didn’t see Truth’s face twitch.

“I see.”

Alright. Tradition. Nationalism. Aspiration. Security. Greed. And here we go, a straight shot to the Church of Praeger. Now, how to tie them to this? Given that he could plausibly have someone pretend to be a CEO for a while, but he really doubted that he could hijack an entire global religious hierarchy.

“Both questions have the same answer. I’m the man who currently has an attempted murder claim I can make against you personally and your company generally.”

Wu collected himself almost immediately. “Then by all means, call the police.”

Heh. Ballsy. Well, he’s not wrong- there is no way a cop would do more than collect a good sized bribe to forget this, and a bigger one to make me disappear.

“I prefer alternative dispute resolution. In your case, how would you feel about being paralyzed, laid on the conference room table, and eaten alive?”

Truth was waiting for the reaction and caught it just as the geas activated. Cup and Knife didn’t struggle quite so hard this time- less damage to repair, and less enchantment to break. Truth aimed the remnant curse at “anyone else who has this enchantment” and absolutely nothing happened. Dammit all. He pushed it back towards the sign. That seemed to work.

Hopefully the sign wouldn’t fall on someone. He’d feel pretty bad if someone got hurt because of that. It was just so... lazy.

“And back with us, Attorney Wu. Or do you have a different name?”

“No, my name is actually Ricardo Wu. Those asseholes!”

“Sold out by the board?”

“I was specifically hired by them because of, and I am quoting here, “My decades-long commitment to the highest standards of ethical and zealous representation” representing my clients.”

“Nasty. When did they get you?”

“No idea. I’ve been counsel here for twenty years now. Could have been almost any time.” Ricardo sagged in the chair.

Truth nodded at that. “Say, does this office space have any big ritual spaces or other hidden magical technology so profound, the board felt it was best not to inform Tony here?”

“Tony?” Ricardo looked confused. The former Daragah flipped him the double bird.

“Oh shit. Right, you were called Anthony... Wrench?”

“Wren, asshole. Don’t think I forgot about what was going to happen in a couple of months either. In retrospect, all those donuts and working lunches are looking pretty suspect.”

“The doughnuts were for staff, Daragah! Buy your own damn donuts.”

“The fuck you just call me, Ricky?”

Truth clapped loudly.

“Getting off topic here. Big ritual space. Or technology. Subtly warping the nature of the world in this place.”

“Oh. No. Well. Not really? We do have the conference room pretty heavily enchanted for... hopefully obvious reasons,” Ricardo explained. He shifted in his handcuffs and grimaced.

“Did you do the work in-house?”

“No, we contracted it out. Professional magical engineering outfit, specializing in custom builds. Not cheap, but very good quality.” Ricardo had the quiet pride of a man who had personally negotiated a very favorable contract.

Truth’s nose was twitching. He had a keen nose for a rat. “What was the name of the firm?”

“Anak and Sons. A Harban company. Big, beefy guys.” The slim Ricardo shuddered.

“And who’s idea was all of this?” Truth asked, the rodent odor now getting overwhelming.

“Well, our founder saw a market gap for-”

“You don’t need to walk out of here with two legs, Attorney, or at all. Focus.”

“Sorry, force of habit. Although it was actually the founder and current chairman of the board. Apparently he was at a conference, started a conversation at the bar with Ansusi Anank and the idea just made such good sense he felt like he had to do it. And in fairness, we have consistently exceeded our peer competitors in moderating executive compensation growth and retaining top talent.”