Chapter 20: Chapter 16: A Day at the Office

Day 8 - Morning

Fort Matthew - Royal Residence

*tweet* *tweet*

It's morning. The sun is rising. Birds are singing. Dew is, uh, dewing. And I’m sitting on the balcony of the royal bedroom, playing Cheri. My magic electric guitar.

♪G, C, G, C, G, D, C, G♪

♫Looking back~, on the memory of. The dance we shared, ‘neath the stars above. For a moment~, all the world was right. How could I have known, that you’d ever say goodbye…♫

Where are you Jules? Are you safe? Are you hurt? Where are our boys?

*wave*

Wave back to some girls who are waving at me.

Yep, one of the rich folks' five-story condominiums is south of me. So even though I'm on the inside curve of this two-story U shaped "royal residence?" They can easily see my willy wonka.

How?

Because I'm naked of course.

Why am I sans apparel?

Why not? It's August so it's hot. Gotta be in the seventies already. Probably gonna reach the nineties again. With like a thousand percent humidity. It's early. And I've always been a clothing optional kind of guy. 

Which has caused problems from time to time. For some reason a naked six foot tall man cutting a cigar with a two foot bowie knife is an unsettling sight for some people. 

Yeah, I don't get it either. 

Now I could just evict them and delete the building. But system purchased "housing," has more conditions on when you can do that. So I guess they'll get a show instead.

Stand up.

♪C#m, A, C#m, A, B, A♪

♫I’ve got another confession to make. I’m your fool. Everyone’s got their chains to break. Holdin’ you…♫

*applause* *whistles*

There's dozens of ladies, old and young, at the condo's windows and balconies now. Showing their appreciation. And, naturally, many of them have their phones out.

Do your chains hang low?

Raise my arms triumphantly, with guitar neck in hand, giving them a full monty. Cybernetics and all. Even send a couple pelvic thrusts their way.

You'd think- "Oh?"

Olive skinned hands reach around my waist. Robed F-cup titties squish into the back. Followed by a husky whisper. "Master, I missed you.♡" Ah, Cecilia Devereux. The pyromancer sorceress who cashed Louis’s v-card.

*mwah* *shlurp*

The temptress with green eyes, curly brown hair and an hourglass figure starts frenching me. Looks like our audience is about to get some sex education too. But we're interrupted.

"Ce?! Fuck!"

There's my f-bombing puerto rican assassin. Alessandra Malave. A hard charging thicc brown skinned shorty with D-cups, big booty, brown eyes and black hair.

Seriously, I have no idea how her ass stays that juicy with all the running she does.

The already dressed Lez immediately starts undressing to join us. Until noticing the peanut gallery. The way she freezes and blushes at the same time? So damn cute.

"Eek!" *poof*

A squeak and now there's a little cloud of dust where my gun-loving hit-woman was just standing.

"No fair!" A shout from the other side of the balcony's double door. "Ma-master? Yo-you have a meeting!"

Oops, crap, better not be late again. Catwoman might put me on a bread and water diet this time.

"Oooh, master.♡" Ce moans as I give her heart shaped ass a two handed squeeze. Followed by a spank as I take her hand and lead us inside.

Whoa, damn, vertigo.

Figured I would still be used to it due to my shop on steam planet, but I'm not. Probably because of the new body.

…

What? Oh, it's the spatial magic. Crossing dimensional boundaries can really fuck with your inner ear. Mess with your internal gyroscope. 

You see, using a storage ring is one thing. But sending your whole body into an expanded space? The body can subconsciously tell something's off. Even if you weren't paying attention? Your brain was.

It recalls those 3 x 6 windows were only three feet apart, outside. So when you walk inside and see those same windows are now six feet apart? Your animal brain starts freaking out.

And while you can still shoot through the windows? Good luck making any new holes in the wall. Since it's now a border between dimensions. You'd need enough firepower to blow a hole in the universe to get through them.

Won’t be putting body armor on this time. Since the conference is inside the royal residence. I'm still packing both revolvers though. The system apocalypse taught Louis that nowhere is safe.

My women armor up. Which is a shame. Covering those beautiful bodies in fibermesh and plate. They pow wowed and decided on a four on five off arrangement. Even brought in catwoman and coordinated with her sixteen person security team.

Jet’s recruiting too. She wants the new "Blackhearts" to be at least a dozen strong. Preferably two dozen. We've agreed it will be an all woman unit though. Since I'll probably be fucking every one of them.

After a quick towel down. And dress up. We are out of my suite and moving through the halls. With Ce, Lez, Carly and Bry in tow. The other five headed back to the commune. Hey, Jet's got two daughters and Ali has a son. They need family time.

I'm wearing a black silk three piece suit with two large revolvers in black thigh holsters. A short walk later and we entered the meeting room. It's a small office since there's only two more people coming.

• [Iva Bier | Administration Department | Director… ]
• [Torsten Bier | Labor Department | Director… ]

Who are already here. Each also brought an assistant who's standing behind them.

This husband and wife duo are German tourists. Trapped in New Am when a portal dungeon spawned on one of JFK's runways. Their entire tour group of Broadway otakus was stranded. And were still camped at the airport trying to catch a flight home when that portal broke open.

Ended up in an enclave that was then overrun during the second dungeon break. I, he, saved their fleeing butts from a horde of hungry spiders while on a sweep. And Fort Matthew gained a hundred German nationals.

Iva became the City Clerk for Fort Matthew. But Torsten, also a bureaucrat back home, was blacklisted. The guy's basically a commie and harassed the town council for more social services and even wealth redistribution.

I was hoping he would want Labor. So as soon as he raised his hand? He got it. Couple others raised their hands too. But I wanted to see what he could do. Had texted Iva the night before and she accepted. So he already had an idea on what was coming.

They both stand, bow and say, "Herr König."

“Thank you for coming.” Raise my voice. “Is everyone here?!”

I’m speaking to a TV mounted on the wall. On the very large LED screen are numerous little boxes. Each is a picture of the person on the other side. Yes, it's a video conference. Using another app the hacker collective “cracked” so we could run it with just local hardware.

All of the system slaves had been given smart phones by Louis. A practice I kept for the new buildings. Now should mention that purchased residential buildings do not get managers from the system. Nor do “registered” ones. So there should be just shy of forty boxes.

We are a few short of that but I’ll hunt them down later. I can evict these buildings whenever I choose too. And since only “field” time is counted against their contracts? Every one of them should be very invested in staying outside the system’s dimension for as long as possible.

Iva speaks. “A few are missing but my department will contact them afterwards.”

“So will mine.” Torsten adds after sharing a nod with his wife.

Clap my hands together. “Good!” Focus back on the screen. “Welcome everyone to the first System Managers Conference. This will be a weekly meeting where we discuss goals, needs, requests, and updates.” Roll a hand. “I know you have your own internal communication system. But rarely use it except during crises.”

“You are unusually well informed.” Squints a suspicious toad faced dude.

Smile. “I’m a quick learner.”

Zecawk, the adventurer’s guild manager, taught Louis a hell of a lot about the system. Including a lot of “off the books” stuff. Like that even if system slaves can’t leave their stores? They can still communicate with any other system slave. No matter where they are. Through a sort of astral mail/email service.

And if they are at the same “site?” As in, on the same planet. They can communicate instantly by astral texts/calls. Even set up a party line.

Need to establish that I know a lot more about them than I should. Build their confidence in me. In Fort Matthew. Or I’ll never be able to get their buy-in later.

A fish face burbles, her system skill turning it into whatever language the listener understands. "Buy Dentist. Teeth bad."

"Don't we have a couple at the clinic already?"

The system includes dentistry under the "medical" heading. So room options for it are available in the clinic and hospital. 

"Need more room." Burble burble.

I nod. "Get a list of rooms you need and get them to the Health Department so they can approve them. Next."

"Want better bank." Grumbles a troll wearing a bow tie. 

Oh boy…

…

A couple hours later and I have a long list of requests and complaints. Everybody wants something. And everybody had something to bitch about.

Hooray…

A blitz of messages to the relevant departments, and I'm outta here!

"Where to, daddy?" Winks the five foot four inch, E-cupped, blonde haired, gray eyed and fair skinned scandinavian goddess. Swinging her v-shaped ass.

*mwah*

Give her needy lips a kiss. "Sorry, Bry, daddy's gotta go to the arsenal. We'll fuck when we get back." Britney Boone pouts but nods. All four of them are looking forward to a few hours with just the five of us.

Head for the complex's east gate to see catwoman, the head of the Royal Department, has already placed guards.

"Present… arms!" One of the guards shouts. Causing the other three to snap to attention and, well, present arms.

Now that triggers some flashbacks. I even return the snapped salute. Either cat lady has been training them very hard or… no way. Couldn't be…

Squint at the shouter. "Airborne?"

"Yes sir!" Somehow he stands even straighter. 

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Half his face was badly burned at some point and healed as is. He's got all his limbs but his left hand is missing three fingers.

"What happened?"

A somber face. "JFK, sir."

Fuuuuck.

After the first break, what was left of the military decided JFK had to be liberated. Time to show off America's air power with an air assault.

Right into a monster bird swarm. Think Alfred Hitchcock's movie but they're bigger, tougher and hungrier.

Laughs and points at his face. "Hehe. I was one of the lucky ones." Sad smile. "By the time the slavers found me I was half dead in the slums of an enclave." Shrugs. "Was so delusional I didn't know what I was signing. At least they healed me, somewhat."

"Did you post on the wall?"

"Yes, sir. But Fort Campbell is a long way from here."

"The Wall" is a website where those searching for or notifying loved ones can post details. So the information can be sorted more easily. There is a physical one in Bartertown too but it's a disorganized mess.

"Please put together a list of everyone with injuries." Salute him. "We can do more to help your recovery."

He salutes back. "Yes sir."

I gave soup nazi's sister several dozen sets of armor and arms. These four are carrying maces and Cougar 30 cal semi-automatic rifles with bayonets. Picture an M14 on steroids.

She's already customized the armor too. Giving it a silver, white and blue scheme. Instead of the gold, white and blue theme the Blackhearts have. Well, have when being formal. Right now my ladies are armored up with urban camouflage. Brown, gray and black.

The girls are wearing helmets too but I'm not. In fact, still in a black suit. Yeah, changed my mind.

Even added a simple gold crown. No gems or fancy metal work yet. Just a thick solid gold band around my head. There may still be council loyalists about. Hopefully this encourages them to take a shot.

Most adventurers hate wearing helmets. Says it interferes with their awareness. So many dying from headshots makes me say they're just being stupid.

"Shalom aleichem, your majesty."

We walk out the gate to see… an old jewish guy. No, seriously, he's got the long black coat. Black hat. And a thick gray beard. Like how the lead singer of Matisyahu used to look. Just fifty years older. Even has glasses on.

And he's not alone.

"Aleichem shalom, old guy. What can I do for you?" That surprises him.

"You speak hebrew, sire?" Several in his entourage are shocked.

Wave my hand no. "Had a Jewish girlfriend. She was going through a 'I'll just make my boyfriend jewish' phase." Cup, lift and jiggle my balls. "We got along fine. Until she decided I had to get circumcised."

*cough* *wheeze*

[Identify] the dude while he's laughing, coughing, choking and wheezing.

• [ Jeremiah Weizmann | Male Senior | Priest 11 | Copper… ]

Now, I know what the system displays is very dynamic. Changing the order and wording based on my understanding and interest at the time. But I've never seen "Senior" before.

There are ten people behind him. All much younger than graybeard. Six guys. Four gals. Now the guys are dressed for combat, not seduction. Their clown kits look typical for adventurers as they slowly replace what they could scavenge. With PVE loot drops. Mix of cold steel and hot steel weapons. Again pretty typical.

The ladies on the other hand?

Absolutely dressed to undress. Late teens to late twenties. Grand canyons of cleavage. Miles of bare legs. Enough makeup to let you know they're available. Not so much that you think they're on sale.

• [ Elisheva Weizmann | Female Junior | Psionicist 10 | Tin… ]
• [ Kathleen Burlton | Female Adult | Brawler 17 | Copper… ]
• [ Madeine Harper | Female Adult | Investigator 13 | Copper… ]
• [ Zoe Houghton | Female Junior | Muse 0 | Lead… ]

Okay, nice to see Ely again but what's up with her being a "Junior" now? Yep, super dynamic all knowing system. Or it's on the fritz. Hated when steam planet's world engine did that. Fighting for your life is oh so fucking not when you want a box full of gibberish to pop up.

"Hahaha! Oh! Ho!" Hand over his heart. "Your majesty, I am an old man. It's not healthy for me to laugh that hard."

Some giggles and smirks from his entourage.

Smile politely. "Alright, Mr Weizmann. I'm busy. Why are you here?"

"I was hoping to have some of your time, sire."

Squint. "My time is something even I'm short of." Point into the distance. "Best I can offer is a walk and talk. If you're up for it."

"This old man would be honored, your majesty." Graybeard bows.

Hang a left and start walking towards Matthew Pl. This strip of concrete runs down to the outer wall and, before the apocalypse, was a long narrow parking lot for the baseball park east of us.

Of course now a large rectangle of that park is bare dirt because the temple I evicted was there.

South of us the condo compound's eastern wall also runs along the lot. There's only an eleven yard gap between the town hall complex's southern wall and theirs. Then another similar gap between theirs and the outer wall.

Ten meters, I mean, eleven yards seems to be some sort of minimum distance requirement to the system. Though Louis did have to buy the outer wall in one hundred and ten yard lengths. Each eleven yards wide.

Yep, the outer wall is almost thirty-three feet thick.

Not much foot traffic here. The occasional rickshaw headed to or from the condos as we walk north.

Jeremiah starts. "I must say, your arms are most impressive, your majesty. Quite unlike anything I've ever seen."

Flashback to my first experiments,  decades ago, in medieval land.

"Oughta be. Given how long it took to develop and mature the tech."

That gets fuzzy face thinking as we reach Matthew Pl and take a right. This street is busier but still a lot less than 7th and Bartertown. 

"Your majesty?" Mr Weizmann is curious. "Might I ask where we are going?"

Point again. Passed the power plant. "The new arsenal. Magearms and magefires require some special versions of lathes and such to make." Raise my hands. "And since the system doesn't know how to make them."

"They can't provide the needed machinery." Jeremiah nods to himself. "Sire, am I correct to assume you plan to produce these, uh, magearms in large numbers?"

"Yep, need humanity back on its feet to gather enough resources to build a helicarrier."

Not entirely true but having tens of thousands working on it will go a hell of a lot faster than thousands.

As soon as the last word leaves my mouth. Several in his entourage stumble. Receiving a glare from graybeard. Ely replies by pulling out her phone and doing a flurry of typing.

*bing*

The text notification sounds from Jeremiah's inner coat pocket. Causing him to close his eyes and let out a long sigh. Uhoh. Yep, meeting etiquette flag. Always remember to mute your phone.

Old guy nods apologetically while I smile. Pulls out his phone. Makes a few taps and… stumbles.

I help keep him from falling. "Whoa, careful grandpa." The entourage comes to a stop. Getting us complaints from folks who suddenly have to detour around. Yes, even on foot. There is road rage.

Mr Weizmann holds up an impressively large cell phone. "Are you planning to build this?" On the screen is a picture of a helicarrier from the marvel movies.

"What is this?" Look at the screen. "A helicarrier for ants?" Graybeard looks confused but there's snickers and snorts from the entourage. Nice to hear some folks remember Zoolander. "Mine has to be at least… three times bigger than this."

He shakes his head. "Is that even possible?"

Pat him on the shoulder. "Oops, hehe, I forget the mana on this world was light and thin for millenia. So you aren't used to it yet." Laugh. "Just wait till you see your first floating island!" Wistful gaze. "I have a vacation home on one back on steam planet. It's an otherworldly experience."

Jeremiah looks a bit overwhelmed. "Steam… planet?"

"Come on." Stare at him. "Anyone who thinks about it knows I'm more than just Louis McConnell now."

He nods. "Yes, but I believed you would not be so open about it."

"Why? We have so much time and so little to do." Raise a hand. "Strike that. Reverse it."

That sets off a lightbulb for the old guy. "Gene Wilder."

Smile. "He was a good man." Guide us to a bench on the side of the road and we both sit. "So, you want my guns."

"Yes, your majesty." Graybeard nods. "And the robots too, please."

Shake my head. "Still not sure what I'm going to do with them. Once we have an orgon refinery running I'll decide on which route to go for mechanized."

"I see…" Jeremiah gets thoughtful again.

Take a gander at the ladies he brought. "I'm guessing you're not just here to buy."

"Yes, sire." Pauses for effect. "We would like to negotiate a license to make them ourselves."

Nod. "I'm okay with that. Now what about the fees and royalties?"

"For fees we are hoping for a, um, trade in kind." Mr Weizmann offers. “We see that you are a worldly monarch and are building an army.” Ely steps up as does one of the dudes. “Some of our daughters have volunteered to give themselves to you. And we have volunteers for the new force.”

“And the royalty rate?” Which catches Jeremiah off guard.

Graybeard interlaces his fingers. “You know more than I expected.”

“Some of me is a hell of a lot older than I look.” Lift one finger to stop his reply. “This is my only offer so listen up. One, I will sign a license permitting the building and selling of magearms and magefires by your companies.” Another finger. “Two, you will not sell them to anyone I consider an enemy.” A third finger. “Three, you will only produce 20, 30 and 40 cal magearms and magefires. 50 and 60 cal arms and ammo cannot be made until I say so. Larger calibers will be licensed separately when I start producing them.” Fourth finger. “The royalty rate will be five percent. There will be random audits.” Número cinco. “In lieu of a licensing fee, you may continue to send me willing pussy and capable troops. However, they must truly be volunteers. The troops will sign service contracts for a period of five years. The pussy may leave whenever it wishes.”

Jeremiah’s daughter is so surprised, she blurts out. “Really?! Do you mean that?” Earning an angry look from her father but only a sigh from me.

“Ely, my harem is spread across four worlds and is a bit shy of a hundred women. And that’s just the wives and concubines.” Raise my palms and look to the heavens. “If you count mistresses too? Some do. Some don’t. Hundreds.” Grab and tug my balls through the slacks again. “I have dozens of kids. And dozens of grandkids.” Ce comes up behind me and leans my head against her belly. Our eyes meet. “And I don’t mind making more.”

“Your majesty.” Graybeard bows. “I apologize for her behavior-”

I interrupt whatever his excuse was going to be. “But you haven’t heard the final condition.” Grin as I hold up and spread my five fingers again. Then curl them into a fist. “Finally, if I even suspect that any conditions are not being followed in both letter and spirit?” Lean forward. “I will bring you all before my court. I will find you guilty. And I will execute you.”

“Who are you?” Asks one of the men in his entourage.

Remember the faces of all the loved ones I’ve lost through a century of blood, sweat and tears.

“Just a man the universe has fucked with one too many times.” Crack my knuckles. “So this time?”

Red. I’m so sorry.

“I’m fucking it back.”

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