BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit

Chapter 73: Chapter 70


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I glared in annoyance, before intentionally leaving my weapons in my new house and walking outside to greet him, after putting my helmet on.

“Valued Garthrust!” I started, swinging my arms wide. “It is good to see you again.”

The orc in robes stopped when he saw me, a grimace on his face.

“You’re looking so good too! Did you get your tusk capped since last I saw you, Valued Garthrust?” I walked forward, arms still raised.

His face screwed up in confusion and he touched his broken tusk lightly. “What? No.”

“Ah well, it looks great either way. How can Silken Sands make your evening special?” I stopped in front of him and clasped my hands together.

Garthrust narrowed his eyes and stared at my helmet. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and I heard one of his knuckles pop from the sheer force. I smiled in my helmet and waved a casual hand at the hobb guards. They each gave me an uncertain look, and then turned to leave.

The orc turned to watch the hobbs leaving. “You must have a great deal of trust in your abilities, Tyson Dawes of the Happy Trails Campground.” He paused and looked back at me. “To send your guards away so willingly.”

“And what of you, Valued Garthrust? You enter our caring arms so willingly, seemingly without fear of violence to your person,” I innocently asked.

His narrowed eyes took on a meaner glint, and his jaw muscles tightened. Then, he squinted at me and started laughing. “Oh you don’t even know about insurance. How quaint.”

I raised an eyebrow in my helmet, but stayed perfectly still and stared at him instead of reacting.

The orc sighed and continued. “If you strike me, your account will be charged one million morties per strike. The penalty is extreme if you were to kill me,” he said with dripping sarcasm. “Your affiliate is so pathetic I could strike or kill you without any financial repercussions.”

“Oh, no, Valued Garthrust, you wouldn’t do that. I just don’t find you threatening. At all.” I grinned behind my helmet and twisted the verbal knife blade a little. “You’re so naturally friendly, and all of your scars indicate that you must be bad at personal combat, so I figure you’re no threat to us here.”

His skin changed color at that, starting from the neck and rising to cover his face. A deeper green flushed throughout him, and his one good eye fixed me. “I received these scars in the gladiatorial rings of Orkresh!”

“Oooh, super impressive that you survived. It would be better if you won the fights though, you get less scars that way. Anyway, how can I help you today, Valued Garthrust?” I clasped my hands in front of myself again and leaned forward, as if eager to hear his response.

The scarred orc stood his ground and stared at me, trying to pierce my helmet with his one eye. He clenched one fist so hard I heard his joints creak. “Why don’t we drop this customer service routine? Are you so afraid that you must hide behind masks?”

“Oh this?” I pointed to my helmet. “This keeps my face pretty, I would think you could appreciate that.”

“Enough!” He roared. I smiled in the safety of my helmet.

“Enough what, Valued Garthrust?” I asked in my most polite voice.

He charged. It wasn’t much, just a few quick, stomping steps before his face was nearly touching my helmet, but I simply held my ground. Nothing this idiot did to me could hurt me.

The orc’s eye moved all over the mirror surface of my helmet, trying to avoid staring in fury at his own reflection as I held my ground. “Enough games,” he growled.

I unclasped my hands from behind my back and straightened my back. “Oh, I don’t think you want that,” I responded, my voice as low and serious as his. “The games are for your safety, Garthrust. Not mine.”

I heard the door of the Lincoln open and spoke low as I began to turn. “Once the games end, we play for real, you and I.”

“What is going on here!” Molls was on us in a flash, and both Garthrust and I shut our mouths. Her scales were bright orange, with a hint of red swirling around the edges.

“This . . . this buffoon is provoking me!” The orc sputtered.

“I could say the same,” I retorted calmly, before adding, “but I wouldn’t call him a buffoon in front of you. It’s churlish.”

Molls over-sized eyes blinked rapidly, and the red left her scales. “Well . . . stop provoking one another, for morties sake!”

She grabbed my arm and we turned away to speak privately. “Please stop interfering in church matters, Tyson. This is a serious meeting, and your actions could threaten this entire affiliate. As well as my personal record and standing.” I glanced back at Garthrust to see him sneering from behind Molls’ back.

I removed my helmet and tucked it under my arm. “Molls, please. Do not trust this guy.”

Her scales flushed orange again. She blinked at me several times, before slipping her tongue quickly in and out of her mouth. “I am sorry Tyson, but I need to ask you to leave.”

I shook my head. “I’m responsible for your safety.”

“I am perfectly safe with another member of the clergy!” She hissed under her breath, but the red seeped back into her scales as she continued, “and I don’t appreciate the insinuation.”

“Molls, you have to listen. He ordered you killed. It was his personal merc who made a run at you, the night of the attack.” I tried to keep my voice low, but Garthrust was busy pretending he couldn’t hear us, looking at my new house.

“I simply do not believe that. A member of the clergy would never order a killing on another of us. That is not how the church operates. We are not the Sleem.” Her eyes narrowed and the orange in her scales was replaced completely by red.

“Yes we are, Molls!” I hissed back. “We’re all the damned Sleem, out here eating one another, building our entire lives on each other’s corpses!”

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

Her eyes went wide and the color in her scales fluctuated with a burst of bright yellow. She slid back from me and took a series of calming breaths. The color in her scales faded significantly, but the red outline was deepened. “I asked you to leave. Please do so.”

I blinked and nodded, trying to breath out my own anger. I looked back at Garthrust, which made it worse. “Please, Molls,” I whispered. “At least let me call over a hobb for security.”

The color in her scales deepened, and her eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not.”

Molls turned fully to Garthrust and pressed her hands together while bowing her head. “I apologize, venerable Garthrust. Tyson will be leaving us, and we are free to have our meeting. I apologize for the delay, and the interruption.”

Garthrust swept an arm out wide and bowed gently in response. “Think nothing of it, sister Nah’gh. I find humans difficult to work with, especially on this Nu-Earth. They are so aggressive here.”

Molls’ scales flashed pink, and she glanced at me before turning to gesture at her car. “Won’t you come into my office? I’ll put some coffee on.”

Garthrust straightened his robes and glared at me one more time, before walking confidently toward the Lincoln. “That would be lovely. Have you any Drumu-dust?”

I turned away and left as Molls’ cheery response filled my ears. My head pounded as I moved, walking at first, then running as I went for the privacy hill. I ran over the top of it and toward the parking lot. I needed a hobb, and fast.

Thankfully, dinner was being served, out of a large metal vat. The hobbs had grown in number again, I realized. Descending the hillside overlooking the parking lot gave me a chance to count them all, and I realized we had over forty different hobbs milling around our parking lot and the residential sites. That was not including the hobbs on patrol or working guard duty at various points around the camp.

More of the mud-crete huts had been occupied by humans as well, and I saw a few new cars in the lot, and down the row of huts. I also noticed a small handful of extra yarsp carcasses laid out near the cooking station, in various states of butchery. The hobbs appeared to have saved some of the vegetables from this morning’s food run and were now serving yarsp steaks and a mixed stew to all who approached.

There were several uncomfortable looking humans in line to get food, but the hobbs were jovial and boisterous. It had the vibe of another family barbeque. Plenty of hobb children ran around as well, tearing into chunks of yarsp meat, and playing some variation of tag between the picnic tables.

I saw the young woman I had seen earlier, still hanging around the outskirts with her sketching pad, and a bowl of steaming stew in front of her. She was gently smiling at the activity all around and drawing while her meal cooled beside her.

Rayna got my attention, waving from the parking lot. I slid my helmet back on and descended the rocky hill to meet her. The hobb looked tired, and Tollya was following her with a worried expression.

“Tyson. Need to talk to you.” Her gravelly voice reached me and I nodded.

“I’m sorry to be rude, but me first.” I turned and looked at Tollya. “Tollya, can you get a hobb to go guard Molls, please? They need to keep a distance but watch to make sure nothing violent happens during her meeting.”

Tollya turned her worried expression to me. “I go, now.”

“Thank you, Tollya. I appreciate it. You can sneak into my place, I left the side door open. Just keep a low profile and let me know if anything happens.” I raised my hand to my chest in a fist, and she instantly returned the gesture, before hustling up the hill behind me.

“Okay, thank you Rayna, that was urgent. What do you need?”

She sighed and raised her arms in a shrug. “A new place for my people to live, free of delves?”

“I’m sorry, Rayna. I had no idea my app would lure a beholder.” I shook my head. “Gotta read that fine print.”

The hobb turned away to the parking lot. “Not your fault. Just bad luck. Always bad luck, even when it looks like good.”

As I began to follow behind her, she stopped dead, and then turned to point at me. “I thought this was good place. Even with Dearth, the Sleem. Good place, we can live. But delves kill hobbs. I’ve seen it, lived it.”

She stopped talking and watched her people’s children running between the tables and shrieking with gravely laughter. “Which of them dies first?”

“Me,” I said. When she turned back to look at me, I continued. “Maybe the delves, instead. I get the distinct impression that BuyMort is not a stable system, in spite of what Molls and the Dearth goons might think. We’re all in the meat grinder together, Rayna. I’ll do what I can to help your people, the same as my own. I got you into this, and I’d die to help you out of it, if that’s what it takes.”

I gestured to the gathered crowd of humans and hobbs. “I can’t imagine these people have anyplace to go, or why on Nu-Earth would they be here? That’s how I washed up here all those years ago, dead on my feet. Took the end of the world and several horrific mutilations to snap me out of it. I just kept going to work while the end was crashing in on my head.”

She peered at my helmet, and I wondered what it was like to talk to a reflection of herself. “If I can stop this, I will,” I said.

Rayna took a deep breath and nodded. “Was this or running jobs until one of them killed us anyway.” Her fist closed and she slowly raised it to her chest, to thump against one breast. “I’m sorry for my despair, boss. Thank you for taking us in.”

I returned the gesture. “Just call me Tyson, Rayna. You’re my partner in all this, not my employee.” I raised a finger before she could respond. “Hey, what could you do with an army? Would more equipment and hobbs help keep you safe from the delves?”

She blinked, rapidly, and stared at the ground as she thought. “Of course. I have many more in Storage, waiting to come out, but we are low on space and resources. There are no weapons to equip new hobbs with.”

The ads whirled up from the ground, a tower of them that obscured my vision. Why was it that they always came to me in some different yet psychedelic fashion? Not important. I grabbed one to see what BuyMort was prattling about.

FIRST WEEK LOANS - LOW ON SPACE AND RESOURCES? NO WEAPONS TO EQUIP YOUR PERSONNEL WITH? YES WE ARE LISTENING TO YOUR THOUGHTS AND WE KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU NEED. LET US LET YOU SAVE MONEY ON PUTTING TOGETHER THE EMPIRE OF YOUR CHOICE. WITH RATES AS LOW AS 2.25%* MONTHLY INTEREST, FIRST WEEK LOANS GIVES YOU THE OPPORTUNITY TO GET A LEG UP ON THE COMPETITION. NO MATTER THEIR SIZE.

*2.25% ONLY APPLIES TO MEMBERS OF OUR OWN AFFILIATE, OR THOSE WITH A LEVEL 100 CREDIT RATING. INTEREST RATES MAY CHANGE WITHOUT NOTICE. IN THE EVENT OF AN INABILITY TO PAY THE INTEREST OF A LOAN, THE ENTIRE AMOUNT OWED WILL BE SEIZED, AND ADDITIONAL ASSETS WILL BE SOLD UNTIL THE DEBT BALANCE HAS BEEN FULFILLED. FAILURE TO PAY OFF THE LOAN WITH THE SEIZURE OF ALL AFFILIATE ASSETS WILL RESULT IN A PERIOD OF DEBT REPAYMENT AT THE OCCUPATION OF FIRST WEEK LOANS CHOICE. A FAILURE TO COMPLY WITH THESE CONDITIONS WILL RESULT IN AN IMMEDIATE CONTRACT UPON THE LIFE OF ALL MEMBERS OF THE DEBTING AFFILIATE.

I swept it all away. Fuck loans. I’d take them only as an absolute last resort. I came back to myself and locked eyes with Rayna.

“I have a plan for exactly that. Let’s go see the ravens.”

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