Main Hall, Gaming Sanctuary, Paris

I've made good time on the way back thanks to the merchant caravan I was able to hitch a ride with out of Olton Mountain. Not having to stop every quarter-hour to indulge Horizon's gawking at the scenery is also a net positive in terms of efficiency I suppose, however, I find it difficult to hold it against her when it really only cost us maybe an hour or two total throughout our journey to Olton Mountain Shrine. On top of that, in a confluence of convenience, there was a barge headed south to Rospli I was able to hitch a ride on almost as soon as I arrived at the unloading dock in Kolpehead.

All in all, I'm a day ahead of schedule, which is just as well from how chaotic Meteo Town is right now. I'll be able to do a lot of work suppressing DDA with the gains I've come by on my trip, and with Rise of the Adventurers only a few days away now, time saved is money earned. We won't be in the ideal position I wanted for us at the time the patch day came around, unfortunate and gut-wrenchingly frustrating as that is - However, I've still accomplished a lot in the brief time we've had to prepare, so I can only be satisfied with that much. Complaining about what could have been...is an exercise in futile denial.

Nonetheless, that does not mean that I am happy about it.

The main hall of the café is uncommonly rowdy, packed almost wall to wall with people of all kinds while a projector displays an arena match in Valliant Advance. I recall that today there was supposed to be a seasonal championship tournament meant to seed and qualify teams for the world championship at the end of summer, but I admit I wasn't expecting a turnout like this to a public event with how ubiquitous home streaming and virtual tickets are.

Leaning against the corner of the corridor wall leading out into the crowd is Sherry, staring wall-eyed at the projection, obviously tired out from the guerilla street warfare the Guild have been engaged in over the past few days. Curiously, Henry and Jinx are nowhere to be seen, but perhaps they already left ahead of her.

"Good evening," I nod to her, adjusting the strap of my backpack on my shoulder.

Bleary, she blinks a few times before she acknowledges my presence in front of her, "Oh. Hey."

I frown, her listlessness is a little out of character for her, "Is everything alright?"

"Drained, entirely too friggin' sober, need a cig," she shrugs, eyes lidded, "And I've been waiting here for like an hour for you to get your ass out of your capsule. Guessing you've not checked your phone yet."

"I turned it off this morning to preserve the battery life," I explain, fumbling through my jacket pocket to pull it out, "Forgot to put it on charge last night. So, no. Why?"

My phone beeps into life, then immediately starts chirping constantly with notifications and unread messages while my mouth hangs slightly open, brows deeply furrowed. Sherry quirks a knowing eyebrow at my confusion, "That do anything for ya?"

A sinking feeling in my stomach leaves me staring blankly at the buzzing device, "I am...not reading all of this right now. Could I ask you to summarise what I've missed, please?"

"Well, DDA's gone up in smoke, more or less," she pushes herself up with a grunt, rolling her shoulders, "The long arm of the law finally reached its way out to Meteo to bitchslap the fuckers with righteous fury. Didn't get all of 'em, just those online at the time for the most part. A couple of 'em had the weirdest luck to be so shit at their jobs they didn't actually have any, like, Infamy points or however that works and got off scotfree. Between them and the people hiding offline, most of them are stuck in jail for the next two months of in-game time, and the soldiers are watching the Cathedral like hawks for people trying to circumvent the suspension by deleting their toons."

That's undoubtedly some good news to hear, although I'm a little disappointed to find out that I won't be able to make the impactful return I was planning on. It also sounds like they're taking the tip-offs I'd sent through Winfrey and the Olton Mountain Shrine more seriously than I thought they would, which is surprising.

I don't imagine it'll gain me any popularity if people realise I snitched on that workaround ahead of time, but the powers that be would have figured out the basic mechanisms of our existence in a few months anyway. Hundreds of thousands of semi-immortal adventure-seekers spontaneously appearing out of nowhere in set locations is not something any government would be able to completely ignore - Exactly what measures and attitudes they choose to adopt in response to our existence on Merrow depends on the organisation in question and the actions of the player community.

Most choose to ignore us since even if we're numerous and dangerous, we're not unified or especially powerful compared to them. On the contrary, our value as mercenaries is extremely high because our lives are far more disposable, which goes hand-in-hand with a stubborn heart and profit-seeking mindset. To top it off, trying to exterminate every last player is far more effort than it's worth.

Their complacency is something I intended to take advantage of, but I've made a lot of noise in the council's ears, so I don't think I'll be making too many big moves for a few months yet. At least not where they're likely to take notice. I can live with a bit of extra scrutiny, but I won't abide another pair of hands on the wheel or obstructions on the Path.

"Do you want to take this conversation outside? I can barely hear myself think in here," I rub my temple, grimacing as another whooping holler goes up. Looks like someone just died. Won't pretend to understand who's who or anything like that. VA was never something I cared about.

"Sure, need a fag anyway," Sherry fishes in her backpocket for a mostly flattened carton of cigarettes with two left poking out the torn-up lid.

---

 

Gaming Sanctuary, Paris

Shivering in the cold night air, I stand upwind of Sherry while she takes a long drag of her deathstick, not looking any better for it. I can still hear the shouting and the tail-end of the colour commentator from down the steps, but it's not thumping right in my ear with the full bass impact of the surround sound system. I'll take what relief I can get.

"Are Jinx and Henry still in-game?" I start the conversation back up, taking a long draught of Championé energy drink. Local french brand. Not very good compared to Masterade. Tastes more like tonic water with artificial flavourings.

"Nope," Sherry puffs a cloud of greyish-white smoke, "They're already back home to do couple stuff and pass out. Henry's back at work for the next week with no days-off now."

"Well, I'll be sure to thank everyone for their dedication," I mutter, capping the recycled plastic bottle, "Same to you. Good work."

She rolls her eyes, "Yeah, sure. Ya gonna give me a star sticker as well?"

"If you're going to act like a brat over simple gratitude, I might," I sigh, an uncomfortable jitteriness spreading from my back up my spine and arms, "Anything else worth mentioning?"

Sherry taps her cigarette off to the side to dislodge the wad of accumulated ash at it's tip, "Wolf Hunt're going through divorce procedings in court, Jericho showed up asking us to take custody of the kids while they find a new apartment. The Commander NPC guy wants to see you too, and we've got to figure out how we're gonna cash-in our contribution points for the riot. Aaand Henna's been awake'n fighting for like five days straight so maybe don't bother her for a while."

I stop walking, trying to parse the information in my head. The first part about Wolf Hunt arrests my attention for a moment before my mind hones in on the word 'Commander'.

"Did you say a Commander from the Imperial Army wanted to talk to me?" I ask, dearly hoping I'm mistaken.

"Yeah? Some bigshot apparently. Commander Hi..Hial? And his Reginlei," Sherry shrugs, eyeing the nearly burnt-out cigarette with a twinge of irritation, free hand twitching towards her back pocket again, "He's taken over as mayor now."

Oh.

You have got to be fucking joking.

Him?

That's like parking a nuclear warhead next to an anthill. Complete overkill. What the fuck are the councillors thinking, sending one of their greatest war assets away from the northern fronts to suppress a riot? Not to mention, a move like that is gonna have alarm bells going off in Ghoath, no bones about it.

"You look like you just got caught masturbating in the bathroom at a funeral," Sherry lights up a second smoke, "Guessing you know this guy?"

"Everyone on Firmament knows him," I rub my stressing out face with my palm, "He's one of the best Bards in the world. He's not as much of an issue on his own, but the simple fact of his existence on a battlefield increases the combat efficacy of his allies and reduces that of his enemies by hundreds of times over. An Apprentice at Level 1 under his direct command could beat opponents past their first Class and Racial change at Level 40, to put it into perspective. He should not be in Meteo. At all. Commander Hiolh is one of the Empire's trump cards in the War of Faulted Ideals."

This has to be my fault, somehow. It has to be. The Iempern'ioll Cugosth may be a bunch of corrupt, greedy narcissists, but even they're not so stupid as to make a move like this without reason. Not even the original Hadrian caught this kind of attention, and he was a nasty piece of work openly working with Arevas. I may have pushed for intervention from multiple angles, but I was expecting maybe a small force of Level 30s from the Central Provinces.

Not...The Unstained fucking Banner.

I just can't seem to catch a break without some sort of ludicrous drawback or condition attached to it. I suppose the world has a way of balancing my egregious cheating to get ahead.

No free lunches.

---

 

Hidden Serpent

Abandoned Home, West Residential District, Meteo Town

The building, once rather fine, is a hollow shell of it's former middle-class modesty. A single oil lamp casts a dingy glow around the room atop a broken table propped up by an empty barrel, leaving muddy shadows on the Serpentblood man sat at the table, arms folded atop it and fingers knit.

"Speak," Hidden Serpent commands, staring at one of his subordinates, "What is the current situation in Meteo?"

"Sir," a Kon man, named Great Order, clears his throat, "The Darkest Dreamers Alliance is crushed. Of it's initial active roster, approximately 87% have been incarcerated. 2% have been subjected to some sort of magical torture device that have imposed character lock-out penalties of four Real months. The remainder have either escaped notice due to lack of Infamy or refuse to log-in and attract attention. Of those that have had their characters effectively destroyed, 55% have refused to return, while all of those who attempted to reroll encountered extreme scrutiny from NPCs stationed at the Cathedral, resulting in most being arrested a second time. It would appear that the NPCs are somewhat aware of the character creation loophole."

"Any clues as to where this information came from?"

"Most likely from Truthseekers' Guildmaster, Silver Nosster," Kyu Namshu, a Silva woman, hypothesised, "The leader of the army NPCs namechecked him, and he is considered nobility within this country, so perhaps their appearance is the result of a privilege afforded to players who gain peerage."

"Unlikely," Hidden Serpent shakes his head, "The latter, that is. A response from the NPC forces was predicted and expected to arrive at some point. Regardless, this doesn't change anything. What word from the leadership of DDA?"

"Heve Clover was captured and subjected to the aforementioned torture device, as he was in the process of chasing down Truthseekers' archer, Jade Fairy, when the army arrived," Great Order reports, "Jackson Wall had the good fortune to be farming in Ujax Forest at the time of arrival, while Radiant Springwater was inspecting the farm progress at Failed Mage's Regret. Both have chosen to lie low outside the walls for the time being, while Mr Clover and his guild have since elected to roll characters at Taladi's Waystation instead. They will no longer be working with us directly, and the Alliance can overall be considered destroyed."

"Public perception?"

"Rambling Rose has gained a large amount of exposure and notoriety for their acquisition of the riot suppression Quest as well as their performance in battle against Darkest Dreamer's Alliance, which has, through the resultant contribution points, gained them sufficient reputation to inaugurate Rambling Rose as an Official Guild," Kyu Namshu continues, "Though the grand finale we arranged was derailed by the sudden appearance of the NPCs ahead of schedule, Mr King suspects nothing and is in relatively high spirits despite his inability to completely subdue Truthseekers."

Hidden Serpent hums thoughtfully to himself, "In the sense that Mr King and his subordinates have been, as it were, put on the map as prominent figures, this operation can still be considered a success. Plans rarely go as expected, but at the very least we accomplished our primary goal and avoided exposure in the process. That Truthseekers managed to survive this ordeal is likewise a nuisance, but our priority remains the apotheosis of young Hadrian's guild. Re-evaluation of the situation will be necessary for this new status quo, however, his parents will be pleased to hear their fool of an heir is doing well, all the same."

"""Yes, sir."""

"Where is Melissa?" Hidden Serpent blinks in sudden recollection, "Was she captured as well?"

"Yes, sir," Tang Jianshi grimaces, "Unfortunately, her position as our agent within the upper echelons of Darkest Dreamers meant that she needed to act in a manner that befitted her position on the Assassin rankings. Infamy build-up was both unavoidable and, might I add, encouraged by you, sir."

The Silva man winces at the last bit of minor criticism, but he knows that pointing out the reality of Melissa's situation is unavoidable. Hidden Serpent can only sigh in acceptance, not willing to admit fault but forced to do so anyway. The irritation he feels is directed as much at himself as it is the barely acceptable intern that was foisted off on him as the result of a bribe, but at least with this, he had the excuse he'd been waiting for to replace her with someone he himself chose.

Irritation quickly turns to anger, seething hot beneath his scaled skin, "For the time being, you are all to return to plainclothes operations. Do not attract any attention whatsoever, and stay as far out of the 'new management's' way as possible. Once re-evaluation is complete you will receive an email on your company accounts with a link to a conference call where our next actions will be revealed and discussed. Continue with your daily reports as normal. Any questions?"

The trio is, naturally, reluctant to prolong the meeting with their already irate boss and decide collectively without any communication to hold their tongues, maintaining silence in the face of his chilling glare. Hidden Serpent stares down each of them in turn as he stands sinuously, then nods in satisfaction.

"Dismissed."

Left alone, his fist slams down on the table, once, then twice and finally a kick that tilts the tabletop off its support and slides to the ground, hitting the floorboards with a heavy thunk. Inhaling deeply, he immediately feels a lot calmer, not a trace of agitation remaining in his posture or expression. A digression not meant for the eyes and ears of his lackeys, and even in private a source of mild shame.

"Incremental success is still a success," he assures himself, wiping his brow out of habit, "We needn't win big every time, just enough times to win the war. Small losses in the name of even greater profits are the hallmark of business. If only that arrogant brat knew how much work was being put in to buoy his ambitions behind the scenes. The promised promotion can't come soon enough, I swear."

Relaxing, Hidden Serpent's mind turns to more productive ends as he retrieves his lamp and extinguishes the flame. There is still oil to burn, and more appropriate times to expend it. He need only be patient and endure his charge's bumbling attempts to leave his parents' shadows, and by their assurance, his career at Kings & Queens Ltd. would be forever secure.

Two steps forward for every setback.