Chapter 167: Chapter 161

Dearth security measures, repurposed and reinforced by BlueCleave specialists, made the Prescott tower the safest place in the city during an attack, especially against the reaper hounds. The building was equipped with sniffers.

Axle immediately took us to security, and turned on the sniffer system, feeding it the scent profile we were looking for. It came back with no hits, and I sighed in relief. A reaper-hound free environment. Exactly what I needed in order to do business.

And, thinking of business, I nearly groaned as I realized what I needed to do next.

“Axle, can you get one of the hobbs to bring D’lon Stanche in for a meeting? He’s a pain in my ass. I'd rather get his whining proposal behind me, and I have some time before my next important meeting,” I asked.

Axle nodded but scowled up at me from his seat. “Are you sure you don’t want to get some rest?”

“No rest for the wicked, Axle. Old Nu-Earth saying,” I quipped.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he replied, with a frown.

“Yeah, us Nu-Earthers often don’t, I’m discovering. I gotta ask Dr. Miles about that, he sent me an email like two weeks ago saying he figured out what’s wrong with us. Maybe that’ll explain our nonsense,” I said, waving a hand.

Half an hour later, I sat in an empty office near the top floor of the tower, waiting for my most annoying renter, D’lon Stanche, to arrive for our meeting. He’d been thrilled to hear I was available and promised to rush right over. After sending the mob he’d formed at the donut home, I hoped.

The door swung open, and an armed hobb entered, with D’lon following at a distance. I had my helmet in place, there was no reason to give my business opponent any edges.

The hobb saluted with a fist to his chest and grunted, “Boss, Mr. Stench here to see you.”

The World’s Most Popular Odor Destroyer. It’s Stench Stealer, by Wiffnite Affiliated. Simply spritz the offending object with our patented nano-purifying spray and presto! Stench be gone! 1000 morties, 4.3 stars.

I chuckled at the ad, staring at D’lon as he came in.

“Thank you, you can go,” I told him, returning the salute.

D’lon bristled and straightened his pin-striped suit. “It’s Stanche,” he corrected.

The hobb’s eyes widened and he nodded his head. “Right, sorry Mr. Stenchy.”

The wealthy businessman’s scowl deepened, and he sat down across the desk from me.

“What can I help you with, D’lon?” I asked, letting enough annoyance into my voice to carry.

“Well, for starters, turn our water back on,” he said, as he straightened his suit jacket.

“The entire city is on rations, until we can secure a new source of clean water, D’lon. The building you are renting from me is included,” I replied. I leaned back in my chair.

“What is the issue here anyway? The rations are more than enough for the hobbs, and most of the rest living here in Prescott. What makes your building so needy, exactly?”

“Need is a strong word, perhaps,” he said. “My clientele expect a certain amount of luxury, when it comes to their accommodations.” 

D’lon waved a hand dismissively. 

“I’ve been fielding complaints from my tenants, so I’ve brought them to our landlord, so to speak.”

I nodded, chrome helmet bobbing as I leaned back in my chair and templed my fingers. “Is that why you brought a mob against BlueCleave at the donut?”

“A mob?” he gasped. “That was a gathering of concerned business-people, not a mob.”

“It was a mob,” I corrected him.

“Oh be reasonable,” D’lon scoffed, crossing his legs. “Was there any property damage? Did we burn and loot? Please, a mob. It was a protest at most, and we have valid reasons to protest your draconian military, you know that.”

“Draconian? We don’t have any mordren on team,” I replied.

D’lon blinked a few times, frowning. “No, I meant -” he started.

“I know what you meant,” I cut him off. “And I know what you were doing with the mob. Now that you have my attention, how are you going to identify yourself as non-threatening to my affiliate?”

You are reading story BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit at novel35.com

His mouth gaped, perfectly manicured beard pointed down. “I . . .”

“Exactly. That feeling is the one you want to work hard to avoid. Doing business is one thing. Threats are another. Would you prefer we deescalate at this point, or shall we continue as is?” I asked.

Silver horns slowly grew on my chrome helmet, and D’lon’s eyes followed them closely.

He blinked when they stopped and glanced back down at his own face in my mirrored helmet. 

“De-escalation sounds lovely. I just wanted to talk about the water rations.”

I stared at him for a long moment before nodding. The horns melted away and I sat back. “We have a handful of extra water rations to throw around, yes.”

The businessman perked up.

“And no, your residential block is not considered a high enough priority to warrant those extras,” I said, cutting him off before he could speak.

His face fell again, and he straightened his shoulders. “Can I at least ask why not?” he finally said.

I thought about it for a moment, allowing him to stare at his own reflection.

“We’re using them elsewhere, primarily on the grow houses that feed the city, and storage for emergencies. I’m not sure you understand how dire the situation on this planet is, D’lon,” I said. “We’re all in this together.”

He scowled and shook his head. “I can offer a significant sum of morties, of course. It’s not as though I would ask for extra water for nothing, I can pay.”

“Why don’t you pay for water imports, then?” I asked. “Even if just enough for your own building, your tenants. I could take you off the grid then, use that water elsewhere. The whole city has needs.”

D’lon sniffed and cleared his throat. “As soon as I receive assurances the elevator will be accessible.”

“It’s accessible now. My affiliate is effective and efficient,” I said. “If that were in doubt. The donut is a valuable asset, it requires security inspections at times, especially when under attack.”

“Very well,” he said. “Take us off your grid and I’ll pay for the water, for a discount on the rent.”

I nodded. There it was. Cheap bastard.

“You’re paying five-hundred thousand a week for the unit, and that includes utilities. Very well. Pro-rated water will drop you fifty k,” I offered.

D’lon tsked, “Haven’t you any idea how expensive water imports are? Knock off at least two-hundred k for the first week, it’ll lower with each shipment. That’s how the importers work,” he said.

“Nope,” I shook my head. “Not my problem. You wanted off our grid,” I informed him.

He scowled again, eyes darting about as he tried to remember. “Wait, no, I simply asked you for more water rations. From you, from your affiliate.”

“Did you?” I asked. “Not how I remember it.” I stood and leaned on the corner of the desk. “I remember you forming a mob to get my attention, and then pissing yourself once you had it. You’re whining, and I don’t have time for it. Everyone is feeling the hurt from rationing, but nobody else is acting like they deserve more just because they want it.”

He leaned back away from me as I pushed on the desk corner enough to crack the heavy wood. “So you’re off our water grid, and your rent is pro-rated down fifty-k a week for the inconvenience. Don’t get my attention again, Mr. Stench.”

“It’s Stanche,” he said, standing to leave. He turned and buttoned his suit jacket, shaking his head at me. “No way to do business.”

“It’s a free market, D’lon. Find someplace else for your needs, if I’m not fulfilling them to your satisfaction,” I said. My hobb guard stepped in to escort my guest away, and I waited until he was gone, before heading up the elevator to my penthouse apartment.

I had to meet with Rayna, and the rest of my people with a starfish suit at midnight and wanted to rest until then. I’d forgotten what it was like, getting torn up and dealing with predatory businessmen. Primarily, it was tiring.

I grabbed a snack of yarsp jerky, smoked to perfection by our hobb artisans, and crashed into the empty bed.

Molls had left plenty of her stuff behind, which I appreciated. It felt like she was coming back, and the entire bed still smelled like her. It was very comforting. I was asleep before I’d even finished my jerky stick.

 

 

You can find story with these keywords: BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit, Read BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit, BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit novel, BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit book, BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit story, BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit full, BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit Latest Chapter