Chapter 35: 33 – Yankee Diplomacy

A muscular ape-like arm tries to scoop up Frey's winnings, but I grab the guard's wrist, stopping him from moving any further.

"Try anything funny and you'll be eating bananas through a straw, chimp." I flash my teeth at the beastling guard, something I was told never to do to primates at a zoo because it agitates them.

Unfortunately, he doesn't take the bait, and instead looks over to his boss who shakes his head. The beastling lets go of the stack of gold and backs off. Where the dealer was standing, their boss now takes his place.

"My lady, it would be a shame to ruin such a pretty face. This much should cover your troubles, no?" He leans over the table and plucks a stack of gold the length of his index finger and lays it in front of Frey. I don't even bother counting it. The entire winning belongs to us.

"Who do I owe my thanks for this charity?" I ask, sneering.

The smirk on his face is replaced with a disappointed frown. He was hoping I would take the gold and beat it, but I didn't. Someone too used to things going their way will always flounder at the first sign of trouble.

"I am Haqin, and this road we are on from the entrance to the exit of Ash'tar, is my domain. Little girl, you have no idea who you are speaking to," Haqin says, almost as a cue to his guards to close in on us.

Behind me, I can hear the rattling chains of Yui's nunchuck. She's ready to pounce at any moment. On the other hand, Frey is shaking in her shoes, the fur on her ear and tails puffed up in fear.

"I know you're with the Ramaleiks," I respond.

My confident declaration is a bluff. I don't know if he really is, but the remark is vague enough to imply he has dealings with them.

Haqin raises an eyebrow, then looks past me to Frey. "Who does Haqin have the pleasure of speaking to?"

There it is.

Now this can only end in one of two ways now.

"You owe the pleasure of speaking to the one who put a leash on Oaks. She runs the syndicate over in Cynderace now," I answer, patting Frey on the shoulders.

"Eh?" Frey shoots two very dilated and terrified eyes at me, but I give her a wink to go along with it. "Th-That's right! That big bad kitty Oaks works for me now!" 

Haqin's eyes snap to me, and then back to Frey. There's some rewiring going on in his head as he tries to ascertain if this is a joke. It wasn't, of course, because Oaks really does work for us now in the guild's hierarchy.

Right now, my plan hinged on how much clout Oaks had as an underworld boss in Cynderace. The more he had, the more seriously Haqin would take us.

If Oaks had chukashca in Cynderace, and the Ramaleiks are responsible for peddling it into the city, naturally they should have dealt business with each other. However, with Oaks out of the picture and working for the guild, there's an absence in who controls the contraband in Cynderace.

That's a huge drop in profits for the Ramaleiks. Doesn't matter how big they are, they have got to be bleeding in profits losing a place as big as the capital of Scoth.

It's like controlling the flow of cigarettes and adderall in school. Take out the peddler, control the supply, the other schools in the districts fall in line. Addicts and delinquents flocked to me instead.

The less enthusiastic members of the crowd, who were originally here to watch people throw gold around, sense trouble brewing and have begun to disperse. Even the guards can't be counted on. Patrols who see us duck into the alleyways to avoid confrontation, turning a blind eye to the bloodbath that's about to unfold. Frankly, I'm not surprised they might be under the Ramaleik's payroll.

Haqin glares at Frey for a moment longer until the snap of a finger cuts through the silence. "I'm not interested in jokes. Gentlemen, take care of these ladies as you see fit." 

"We tried talking. Time for some yankee diplomacy," I say, handing Frey my bat.

"Oooh, it's been a while since we've done that!" Yui yells excitedly.

"Wawawawa— what's yankee diplomacy?" Frey asks, clutching my bat to her chest, and freaking out as rough-looking elves and beastlings draw closer.

Yui and I proceed to beat the ever-living shit out of Haqin's guards. I slip on my new knuckledusters and feel the innate enhancements coursing through my arms. They sing through the air as I throw punches. My fists are so much lighter, it's like they're flying. And so are the guards. Each hit sends them crashing into furniture and unfortunate spectators, and of course, my weapons leave behind an imprint on their faces.

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Patrons pour out of the tavern to replace the gambling spectators who had left. They cheer at our street brawl, rooting for scantily-clad women throwing down with big dudes. After knocking out each of the guards, Haqin tries to escape but trips over one of his men in a panic.

I put a foot on his back to keep him from getting up. "You're not going anywhere."

"They aren't going to look kindly on this, you cunts!" Haqin shouts. Then realizing he spoke too loud, gasps and shuts his mouth. Clearly, he didn't intend to reveal that.

Yui sits cross-legged in front of him, grinning. "You pissed off our employer, and we ain't half as strong as she is."

The color drains from Haqin's face. His chin scrapes along the dirt as he turns to Frey with a look of terror.

"W-What do you want…?" he begs, more than he is asking.

"Bogart's debt. Clear it," I demand, tossing the etched stone of the Ramaleik's symbol in front of him. "If you really control the length of this road, then she falls under your jurisdiction."

"A thousand platinum is not something that can be cleared— aaargghh!!"

I grind my foot into his back, surprised at a much larger sum than I expected. Just what exactly did old Bogart do to incur that much debt?

"How much is your spine worth to you?" I ask him, pressing my shoe between his shoulder blades.

"Nothing, nothing! I'll be killed if I ignore that debt, then they will just send someone to replace me!" Haqin beat the ground with his fists, tears streamed down his eyes as desperation grew.

I'm beginning to wonder what Bogart is worth to us now. There's no way in hell the Ramaleiks are going to let her off the hook. I have a basic understanding of the worth of gold in this world, and a thousand platinums could buy a small village. Bogart is one girl, and they would sooner seize her and the store as their property.

"Tsk. Fine Tell your employers the syndicate in Cynderace will take responsibility for Bogart's debt. We pay it on our terms, but if you come after us…" I gesture to him to face my cohort.

Yui pulls taut the nunchuck in Haqin's face. Electricity sparks along the chains, zapping the ground like a miniature thunderstorm.

"I'll tell them, I promise! No harm will come to Bogart! I swear it!" he screams, practically weeping now.

"Good." I help him up and deliver a swift kick to his ass. "Now scram."

Too bad for them, I could care less about paying them back. It's easier if I just let them think I will.

Frey, whose mouth hangs agape and has been petrified since the start of the fight, springs to life in a panic. "What part of that was diplomacy?!"

"What? Everything bit of that, weren't you watching? Yankee diplomacy is when we let fists and weapons do the talking," I answer, brushing the dust from my skimpy robes and fixing it before I have a nip slip.

"Mraaauuu! Diplomacy involves sitting around a table, having tea, talking about our problems and how to resolve them— not threatening to break someone's back!" Frey yells, clutching her ears.

Yui hugs her from behind and scratches the back of her ears. "There, there. Frey-kitty's in a happy place."

"Guild leader, you of all people shouldn't be— ahh… prrrrr~" Frey leans into Yui's chest. Her eyes flutter shut as she falls to a state of bliss in Yui's arms.

All's well that ends well.

I collect our pile of forty platinums and we make our way to report to Bogart.