Chapter 55: Bureaucratic Bullshit

***Mark Wyrd***

“Say that again,” Father said, his voice crashing down on Mark and forcing him to his knees.

Frederick Wyrd wore a vibrant blue silk robe concealing his Torso Relic, as well as arm-length black leather gloves, concealing his Rings.

The only thing Mark saw on top of his head was a circlet with a drop of blood-colored gemstone in the center, reminding him of the one he’d lost in the swamps of the 4th floor.

This one was likely far more powerful.

The lord of the Wyrd house could be fully armed for battle, and no one would ever know until they exploded in a shower of viscera.

In his gloved hand, Father was twirling an unfamiliar rod and tapping it on his knee unconsciously. It was an oddly ornate bone rod seemingly cut from a femur, about a foot and a half in length with ornate gold caps with gem inlay.

Mark had never seen in before in his life, and made him nervous.

“The destruction of Oilton was perpetrated by a Party that serves the church of Granesh.” Mark lied, keeping his face downturned.

“That’s preposterous. We’ve had an excellent relationship with them for decades.”

“One of them carried this.” Mark said, pulling the Sacrifice out of it’s bag, artfully singed to sell the lie.

Father frowned, drumming on his knee with the rod before going still.

“Is that…”

“A sacrifice from a Saint of the church. One of their members carried it.”

“Ridiculous. The church gives their members Sacrifices at the time and place they wish for their members to use them. They do not let them ‘carry them around’ until they have reached the appropriate level.” Father said, tapping his knee with increased fervor.

“Unless…” Frederick Wyrd thumbed his chin, expression thoughtful for a moment before he glanced back up at Mark. “Continue.”

“The Tangled had already been dispatched by the operatives by the time we arrived,” Mark said, mixing a bit of realism into the story.

“They ambushed us in the throne room, and dispatched the others before I had the chance to drive them back. When they realized they would lose, they detonated the primary oil line that travelled under the castle.”

“Uh huh. And where are your Relics?”

“One of them was a Rogue archetype with an Ability that allowed them to remove Relics without my knowledge. I nearly died.” More lies cloaked in truth.

“…Right. You realize that an Ability that allows one to steal Relics is very rare and it would be unusual that they would send an operative with this Ability on a suicide mission?” Father asked, tapping the rod against his knee.

“I do not speculate on the reasons,” Mark said, head lowered. “I only tell you what I saw and wait for your decision.”

“Lies and deceit!” Father said, his expression murderous, causing Mark to break into a cold sweat.

He said nothing.

“The Church of Granesh is always playing these games, thinking they can nudge me off my path and send a tasty treat my direction to appease me. Obviously, they send the rogue to his death before he turned this ability against his superiors, and they sent the Sacrifice with him as a gift to me, to quell my wrath at the loss of such valuable land.”

Mark didn’t sigh as his father’s paranoia filled in the details on its own. That would be a mistake.

Father descended from his throne and snatched the mummified hand out of Mark’s hand, staring at it as he walked back up the staircase.

“But they’ve made a grievous mistake. They’ve given me the exact thing I needed to become unstoppable, and I won’t forget to ‘thank’ them for it.”

“…U-Unstoppable?” Mark asked, unable to hide the hitch in his voice.

The Sacrifice disappeared in a flash of light, as his father used an Upgrade slot.

On what, Mark had no clue, but the malicious glee in his father’s eyes was all he needed to see to feel a wave of dread and pray it wasn’t directed at him.

“Julius,” Father called, getting the attention of one of the many servants standing by to tend to any of their Lord’s needs.

“Yes, sire?”

“Let’s rearrange my schedule a bit. Bring the prisoner in.”

The servant bowed deeply, then scurried off at top speed, seemingly gliding across the opulent floor of the castle.

Mark spent a long, silent minute contemplating ‘unstoppable’, until the prisoner arrived. He was a rather large man with brown hair and a flat face, his hands tied behind his back.

Father motioned for Mark to step aside to join the courtiers, and the prisoner took center stage.

“Name?” Father asked.

“Eat a dick.” the rough man spat.

“So, Mr. Dick, you stand accused of trying to steal my property, how do you plead?”

“Asshole.”

“Indeed.” Father mused, rubbing his chin and drumming his knee with the bone rod.

“I tell you what, Mr. Dick. Aside from costing me a little extra money, your poorly executed attempt at robbery had basically no effect. As the kids say, ‘no harm, no foul.’ That’s why I’m willing to give you clemency.”

Frederick Wyrd’s expression turned icy cold.

“Kneel, and tell me who hired you to steal my property. And you will go free. Alive, and unharmed.”

The rope binding the bandit’s wrists together exploded outward before whipping through the air towards his father, followed by the bandit, wielding a stiffened length of rope like a shiv.

“Your hired m-.” With no sign of an attack being launched, the bandit exploded, showering Mark and the onlookers in viscera.

Mark muscled down a flinch, but many of the other courtiers were unprepared for the sudden violence, and many took several steps back, desperately wiped blood out of their eyes, hyperventilated, wretched, or simply turned to run away.

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The guards were so agog that they didn’t bother to stop them.

“…AAAHH, by the gods, that works better than I thought it would,” Father said, closing his eyes and relaxing back into his throne.

Mark glanced back up from the bloody mess and paused in horror.

His father looked…younger.

Father’s blue eyes snapped back open and he directed his gaze back down at Mark.

“Yes. Unstoppable. For all your bumbling and half-truths, you’ve done well, Mark. Pick yourself out some new Relics from the vault, and feel free to visit Amanda. I will call you when I have decided your next assignment. Dismissed.”

Mark frowned.

have

Mark was now fully committed to the gambit of playing the church against his father, which meant he needed to find a way to discretely inform them of his father’s new stolen power.

Mark’s eye twitched.

*** William Oh ***

“ long?” Will asked, hoping he’d misheard her.

“About two months for your Party to reach the front of the queue.” Thea said.

“Buuh…” Will was at a loss for words.

“Only a handful of kaiju spawn each month, and a significant fraction of them spawn close enough to Akul that the baron has to kill them immediately or risk loss of life and property. The spawning locations outside the city for people who wish to grind average about one to three kaiju per month. Massive armies of Climbers and mercenaries gather to fight them.

“These armies are so large that they require a certain level of organization in order to prevent serious mishaps due to overcrowding. Hence the queue. I’ve had your Party signed up since I arrived here a month ago, so be grateful, it could’ve been a three month wait.”

“Are there any…faster alternatives?” Will asked, unable to stop thinking about Brianna being tortured into a Tangled on the seventh floor.

“Well, you attempt a Key site. The ones on the fifth floor aren’t particularly difficult, but you would be dropping into the sixth floor at a disadvantage.

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“Any way to get a kaiju kill without waiting in line?”



“Well, you could travel a month outside city limits and pray you run into one during the daytime rather than having it appear at night and crush you all while you sleep. Also, since the mercenaries we hire for these sorts of things would need to be hired for the entire two months rather than the day it takes to kill a kaiju, the price would be astronomically higher.”

“Could’ve just said ‘no’,” Will said, frowning as a thought occurred to him. “How is it you only need to hire the mercenaries for a day?”

“The mercenaries make their homes at the spawn points, so while there’s no kaiju, they’re not on the job. Several Parties pool their money and pay them a retainer to assist with the kill. When the kaiju shows up in their zone, they keep it busy until the parties who paid for the slot show up and together they kill it.”

“That’s some bureaucratic bullshit.” Will muttered.

“Well, yes, but when dealing with city-destroying monstrosities, a certain amount of organization is necessary.”

“Can we reserve a place in several spawn zones?” Will asked. “That would at least give us a better chance of-“

“Sadly no. It used to be allowed, but there was an incident where the same group of parties was called up to two places on the same day, and some people got hurt.”

“Damnit,” Will sighed, unclenching his jaw.

He felt bad about Brianna, he really did, but he couldn’t justify rushing his Party though without getting their levels.

An idea occurred to Will.

“Can we join a mercenary company?”

“They have Contracts with six-month terms to prevent that exact thing.” Thea said with an amused smile. “Clever idea, you’re just not the first person to think of it.”

“Damn.”

“Can I give you some advice?” Thea asked.

“Sure,” Will said. That was the reason why he’d chosen to align himself with the Oilton family: taking advantage the experience of Travis’s higher-level siblings.

That and the money.

“You’re in the biggest city in the world. The Ring doesn’t even compare to the things you can find and do here.”

“And?”

“And you’re still flush with cash after that raid boss aren’t you? There’s no way you could’ve spent it all in Way Station. Not even close.”

“True.” Will admitted.

“This is the biggest city with the biggest Sacrifice market in the world, due to its height in The Tower. There are agents in Akul who work on commission, whose only job is to find specific Sacrifices and deliver them to their customers for a price.”

Will was interested.

“Erosion Golem? Immortal Serpent? Axolotl?” Will asked, his heart fluttering.

“There is a saying,” The white-robed mage said, holding up a slender finger. “’If you can’t find it in Akul, you’re gonna have to get it yourself.’ The chances are better here than anywhere else in the world, save for staring one of those creatures down in person.”

“Uru drake scale?” Will asked out of curiousity.

“Something like that? You’re probably gonna have to get it yourself.”

That gave Will plenty to think about, and he returned to the inn and shared the news with the rest of the Party, who took it with varying levels of maturity.

Reggie seemed grateful for the opportunity to take a break from being a professional pincushion. Travis seemed as eager as Will to keep going, scowling and pacing at the news.

Loth accepted it with her typical stoicism, while June simply shrugged and headed off to shop for better gear to prepare for Kaiju hunting, Mason trailing behind her.

Will wrote down a list of all the Sacrifices that the party needed for the highly specific upgrades to their build, then marched off to find his liaison.

He wasn’t paying him for nothing.

Will tracked Steve Holland to one of the cheaper bathhouses in the city.

‘cheap’ was relative, because the entire thing looked like it belonged in a palace, coated in marble and gold, filled with steam.

There was a bouncer out front with a large curved sword who looked like he chopped people up for a living.

looks

Will tossed the bouncer an ivory coin and the man waved him inside, keeping his gaze fixed on the cobbled road outside.

“Welcome, how may I cleanse you?” A woman in a sheer bathrobe asked, before cocking her head curiously at Will’s mask.

“Do you…umm…have an appointment?” she asked, her voice nearly as soft as Alicia’s.

“I’m looking for Steve Holland.”

“We don’t use names here, as we are all one within the embrace of water,” the hostess said with a graceful dismissive gesture, an ephemeral smile sweeping across her features.

“Salt and pepper hair, beard, brown eyes, likes to pretend to break his own neck as a party trick.”

“Oh him.” The woman’s expression went flat, her shoulders sagging before she made a crude ‘follow me’ gesture. “Right this way.”

She led him through a main lobby where dozens of men and women relaxed in pools that lined either side of the main walkway, swimming, talking and drinking. Entirely nude.

Will kept his eye straight ahead, until he realized that the light from the lamps was shining through the hostess’s bathrobe.

Then he just stared at the ground.

“He’s in there,” She said, thumbing toward a door to a ‘private’ bathing room

“Much obliged,” Will said before kicking the door open.

“GAH!” Steve Holland dove behind a rack of bottles, while the woman in the bubbling pool set in the floor casually gathered up some bubbles in front of herself, significantly less rattled at the sudden intrusion than her client.

“Is this a bad time?” Will asked.

“Good a time as any I suppose, what’s up?” Steve asked, wrapping a towel around himself before moving out from behind the wine rack.

“I’ve got your pay,” Will said, tossing Steve his cut.

Steve peered into the bag, eyes widening at the amount of ten-piece ivory.

“This is one percent!?” he asked.

“You want more?” Will asked.

“Always,” the charlatan said with a nod.

“I heard there’s a huge market for Sacrifices on this floor. These are the ones I want you to find,” Will said, handing the list to Steve. “Thea Oilton has the war chest, so coordinate any purchases with her.”

“I’ve got something for you, too,” Steve said, picking through the pile of clothes on the floor until he revealed a folded envelope.

“Whazzat?” Will asked.

“Job offers.” Steve said, handing it to Will. “As you’ve probably been informed, the 5th Floor is difficult to level up…unless you fight other Climbers.”

“These are…”

“Investigations, bounties, bodyguard gigs,” – Steve lowered his voice – “Kneecapping…a few of these are in a legal grey area, if you’re interested in higher pay and more combat.” He held his hands up. “I didn’t know what you would be interested in, so I got a little bit of everything.

Will opened the envelope, revealing a bundle of fliers tightly folded together. He scanned the first.





Under the pay was an artist rendition of a fat man with thick, rubbery lips.



Will put the first flier in his pocket before moving on to the next one.

The next one wasn’t a flier, so much as it was a note scribbled in Steve’s handwriting.



Will’s brows rose as he continued thumbing through.