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The Gamer Chapter 1042 – By the Lakes 3 – Diplomatic Games
🕑 Added 2021-08-05 11:05:20 +0000 UTC“I hope the apartment has found your approval,” Emrik greeted him the next day, visiting him in the same.
Entering John’s dwelling could often be a bit of a risky manoeuvre. However, as the representative had announced himself, the usual issues were taken care of. John was not, at this moment, naked and ball’s deep inside any one of his girls’ holes, neither was the room dirty nor did it reek. Aclysia could hardly stand any kind of dirt within the four walls she owned, there was no way she would let the apartment of a host get filthy. As long as she liked the host, anyway.
“More than my approval, I love it,” John confessed, meeting the older man with an eager handshake. He would have gone for an even friendlier greeting, had he thought that Emrik was susceptible to such things. Too shrewd of a politician to fall for simple gestures, the representative kept his attention focused. John could feel that his entire body language was under observation. Emrik’s Innate Ability was one related to wind and allowed him to notice the subtlest changes in people around him. Any but the most thorough attempts to lie would be taken note of. Not seen through, Emrik had no way of knowing what lie was being told at any one time, but even this state of affairs made him annoying enough to deal with.
On a battlefield, crushing the man would have been easy. His level was considerably above the average, at 84, but his Innate Ability only played a supportive role to whatever else he chose to do. Likely martial arts, if John had to bet. Situational awareness played well with fighting in the thick of things. Maybe he specialized in air magic, that was another possibility.
Either way, Emrik was only dangerous to John, in the way he smiled and answered the handshake readily, because they were operating in a civilized context. How dangerous and in what way remained to be seen.
“That is good then,” the representative said and their hands parted. “Before we begin with the meeting, I thought I would tell you that a couple of private individuals have shown an interest in talking to you. Would you mind giving them some of your time?”
It was a political trick question. John was here on ambassador duty, so he could hardly tell the man off by citing that he had other things to do at the moment. Either he accepted or he was seen as rude. There was no in-between. “I don’t mind,” John answered honestly and looked over his shoulder. “Any of you want to tag along?”
The harem members pondered the question. Many denied it quickly, particularly the politically disengaged members. More followed suit after half a minute of thinking. In the end, the only women that decided to tag along were Aclysia and Rave. The former wasn’t that surprising, she wanted to be there if something went south, but the latter was odd.
“Thought I might as well look the part of the First Lady, ya know?” the cat-eared Lightbearer answered to John’s questioning gaze and grabbed his arm.
“You’ll have to change in that case,” the Gamer pointed out. The combination of crop top and hotpants she had put on to be at least presentable was not exactly fitting for a public event. “I mean, I like it, but you’d set the mood a bit too bright.”
“Fair point. Bae, ya got one of my dresses with ya?” the Lightbearer asked and started stripping. It was a trick question, they always had something fitting for any given situation in their inventories. Aclysia usually carried meals, ingredients, and other refreshments while Beatrice used her inventory space for tools and clothes.
“I will wait outside,” Emrik said, as quickly as he could without seeming panicked, and then turned around, walking to the cave segment of the apartment.
“Hey, you slut, what do you think you’re doing getting naked before other men, huh?” John asked in a playfully stern tone.
“Like ya don’t love showing off what they don’t have,” Rave responded, left with only her panties on. Her body, the perfect marriage between slender and bottom-heavy, was a living piece of artwork. While Beatrice pulled the dress out of her inventory, John’s pink-haired girlfriend stretched. Her medium-sized breasts, her flat midriff, both shifted enticingly, the taut skin stretching further. “Mhhhh-nyyaaaaaaa,” she yawned cattishly and let her arms drop back down.
“Is it wrong that I think you look sexier with fangs?” John wondered, while Rave closed her mouth. He didn’t know what specifically it was about sharp, white teeth, maybe just that they looked especially healthy to his animal brain, but he just loved them.
Rave’s cat ears flicked and she answered that with a simple wink. Extending her arm, she let Beatrice hand over the dress and then put it on. It was one of the series that had decorations in the form of soundwaves all over it. Stitched in black on baby blue, it was plain in terms of colours. It was back-free, held up by two cords slung over the shoulder, and revealed a fair amount of sideboob. It also sat tight enough that showing off nipples was not at risk. The skirt was a wavy thing that extended to the calves at the back and only to the knees at the front. It gave Rave the range of leg movement without which she would have been uncomfortable.
Aclysia handed over her cleaning equipment to Beatrice. The only reason why the passive maid wasn’t tagging along as a secondary bodyguard was that someone had to keep things in proper shape. The weaponized maid wore her usual outfit, the one she shared with Beatrice. A black choker around her neck connected to the corset that covered the white shirt she wore underneath. Her boobs were mostly covered by a frilly white layer, framed by surrounding black. Her skirt, albeit equally long on all sides, revealed a splendid amount of leg whenever she took a step, through two slits at the front. From the middle of her juicy thighs to the tip of her toes, her long legs were covered by stockings, up from there was a garter belt. Her gloves had the simplified Fusion symbol depicted on a white hexagon on the outside of both arms. All black elements of her outfit had relatively simple, dark grey embroidery around the rims. Only her shoes were an exception to this.
Fixing his collar, John inspected himself in the reflection of the window. His dark shirt and pants both sat well, the dark red elements accentuating the colour nicely and harmonizing as well with the plain brown of his hair and eyes as could be expected. Retaining some of the tan despite the season helped elevate his defined build to real Adonis levels.
“Alright, let’s go,” John said and waved at the rest of the harem. “We’ll probably be gone until evening.”
“Have fun with your dry discussions, dude,” Lee waved him off, and he left before the fun banter could delay him any further. His two beautiful women in tow, he soon entered the cave. There, he saw Emrik talking to Stirwin.
“…in the end, there will always be honesty,” the glowing crocodile spoke his wisdom from within a small pond.
“Is that so?” Emrik asked and turned his head.
‘What is this about?’ John asked, mentally.
‘I must keep this one confidential,’ the sage lizard refused to give a direct answer. Trusting the gold-scaled elemental, John dropped the topic immediately. Instead, he locked eyes with Emrik.
“Hypnotise me,” the representative demanded.
John tilted his head, “You sure?” he asked. Emrik had been there during the first of the few times John had used the Hypnotic Gaze Attribute of his contact lenses. Because the Gamer was uncomfortable with the idea of overriding people’s free will, he rarely activated the ability. At the time, he had needed to gather accurate information about Jeremiah. The worry for Metra’s bodily integrity had overwritten his unwillingness to use such an ability at the time.
“I need to know what it feels like. I can’t even try to trust you otherwise,” the older man said and put his hands into his pockets.
Understanding that viewpoint, John nodded and then activated the enchantment. Emrik had considerably more willpower than the targets John had used Hypnotic Gaze on previously. Where they had immediately turned limp and almost zombie-esque, Emrik just relaxed. The light in his eyes dimmed, but didn’t go away.
“Are you married?” John asked a random question that he thought wouldn’t be too private.
“Yes,” came the swift and mostly emotionless answer.
That was as far as John wanted and he averted his gaze. While Emrik shook his head, taking full control over himself back, the Gamer explained, “You will be more inclined to tell me the truth the less you care about giving up the information.” After pondering for a moment, he added, “This isn’t one of my abilities. It comes from the contact lenses I use to replace my eyesight.”
Emrik cleared his throat and fixed his tie, fully regaining his composure. “I appreciate your honesty,” the representative of the Lake Alliance said.
“I’m telling you this not because I trust you, but because I want you to respect me,” the Gamer clarified. His steps already took him towards the stairs. He didn’t know where they would go, but he felt the need to take charge in this situation. “You have your reservations about me and that’s fair enough. I wouldn’t immediately trust some young guy that proclaims to want to change the world for the better either. I know a lot. I’m powerful. That means I can reshape society a lot more effectively than almost anyone else. If I turn out to be malevolent…” John made a cutting motion in front of his neck, “…there’s little you can do to stop me. Better to be paranoid and wrong than naïve, right?”
Emrik gave that a firm nod. None of those words served to sway him to change his opinion of John. The middle-aged man was smart, he had already figured out that this was how their relationship would work. It was more of a confirmation for both of them than a threat. The representative would, if the Lake Alliance joined Fusion, doubtlessly turn into the leader of the opposition in parliament. He was too smart and too savvy for that not to happen.
Fundamentally, John was alright with this. He had to be, otherwise there would be no point in him creating the current system. Realistically, he knew that an opposition would slow things down that were previously quick and easy. Whether this was bad or not depended on the reason and time spent on the slowing. As far as John was concerned, several times in history, large empires rose to sudden prominence not because they made the best possible decisions but because they made adequate decisions faster than their opponents. A quote from Napoleon came to mind: ‘Take time to deliberate, but when the time for action comes, stop thinking and go in.’
“Just be clear with me then, the people I’m about to meet – you hand picked them to test my reactions, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Emrik admitted unashamedly. The stubby-bearded man had his hands in his pockets. “Are you going to turn around now?”
“If this was enough to take the wind out of my sails, I wouldn’t have gotten this far,” the Gamer said. They arrived at the top of the stairs and John gestured for the representative to take the lead again. “I haven’t explored much of this place,” he changed the topic, while they walked through the tranquil halls. The sound of flowing and dripping water and the symmetrical curvatures of every last feature of the carefully crafted structure created divinity.
“Real shame the architect is dead,” Rave echoed. She, and Aclysia, liked the design as well. In passing, she let her right hand cut through a falling stream. The water pearled down her skin and the complicated pattern of black lines that covered it.
“You wouldn’t happen to have the blueprints around?” John asked.
Emrik looked over his shoulder with a distrusting gaze. “…Perhaps we do, why?”
“I would like this style of building to be replicated. Currently, the architecture across Fusion is mostly based on whatever gets copied. As the wealth and size of cities increases, I think they should replace mundane houses with a more aesthetically pleasing variance.” John snapped his fingers. “How about every major city gets a structure in this style around a mana generator producing fresh water? That’ll be needed everywhere.”
“This isn’t a secret we can just hand over…” Emrik’s voice was firm, but the sentence trailed off, giving John an easy opening to respond.
“It could be made part of city development funds,” the Gamer suggested. “Of course, it wouldn’t be fair if such building processes automatically went to architects based in the Lake Alliance. Such jobs would need to be auctioned.”
Emrik nodded firmly to that idea. Even though John kept up the appearance of meritocracy, if there was only one location that provided the necessary know-how, competition was not a word that could be used to describe the process. As the representative of that area, Emrik would be happy to agree to the proposal because it meant money would flow into the pockets of his people. Essentially, it was bribery on a state level. Under optimal conditions, the free market would eventually break that monopoly. Some of the architects involved in the initial set of constructions would break away, thinking they could make more money that way, and introduce competition with a ten-to-twenty-year delay. That was John’s rough guess anyway.
Either way, he had just given the Lake Alliance an enticing financial offer and the people of Fusion would get beautiful landmarks everywhere. Provided the nation survived long enough for those building projects to complete.
They proceeded through the beautiful headquarters and eventually entered an office room. Simple as its equipment was, one office desk and one large table surrounded by ten chairs for meetings, the blue and black walls and tiled floor continued the serene feeling. One wall was one giant window, with a thin layer of water steadily running over it.
John glanced over to a second door at the wall right of him. The office was located at a corner and the corridor they had entered through was disconnected to whatever that door led to. Likely, they had used the personnel entrance while the other door was for visitors.
The theory was essentially confirmed when John heard voices from the other side. Emrik pointed the Gamer at the larger of the two tables and John sat down at the chair furthest from the visitor’s door. Rave sat down left of him, while Aclysia took position behind his chair, slightly offset to the right.
Emrik went over to his office chair. “Whenever you are ready to start, Mister President. There are three people outside. I will call them in one after the other.”
“Alright, call in the first.” John nodded.
Emrik typed a message out on the computer and, about twenty seconds later, the door opened. A plain man in a worker’s outfit entered. He was old, 85 and looked the part. Despite all of the wrinkles, he was definitely healthier than the average mundane of that age. He came towards John with eager steps and a grandpa’s smile on his face. Answering friendliness with friendliness, the Gamer got up to shake the man’s hand. Almost venerating, the old man took John’s hand with both of his own.
“Thank you for meeting me, sir,” he said in a husky voice that sounded like it had been seldomly used.
“I like talking to the people whenever I have the time,” John answered and told the man to sit down. “I didn’t expect to be greeted warmly by the people here though.”
“Many people don’t know how good they have it,” the old man said and then suddenly started coughing. “…Excuse… me…” Aclysia placed a small bottle of water in front of the man, who opened it with a bit of trouble and then took a sip. “Thank you.”
“Why don’t you tell me your story?” John asked, wondering just exactly what made this man so respectful of people less than a quarter his age.
The answer was straightforward: the old man had been a slave in a mana factory for fifty years. John could hardly fathom what it must be like to be kept as chattel for that time. By the description, it wasn’t as bad as what they had found in the Small Lake Pact, where people were essentially harvested for what they could give before dying. The kind of slavery the old man went through was more akin to the indentured servitude of company stores. He had his time off from the engine, but was kept in perpetual debt, lived on the bare minimum, and couldn’t leave the premises. This was until John’s peace demands had outlawed any practice resembling slavery.
It was remarkable to find an individual like that old man. He had once been a fairly talented fire mage, but decades of beatdowns and getting every bit of mana he had to give caused his magical channels to atrophy to the point of being essentially useless. At this point, he would die at an age only a couple of years above the average life expectancy. Nowhere near enough time to restore what he had lost. Despite this, he seemed positive about his lot. He even denied any help, financial or otherwise, John offered him, and left of his own volition when he had said his piece.
The door closed and John’s smile turned just the slightest bit sour. “Hard to enjoy this exchange, knowing that you put it first to butter me up,” the Gamer said.
“We’re leaders. Nothing good ever happens without consequences,” Emrik responded. “Ready for the second?”
“Yes.” John nodded.
In came a woman in her forties. She had brown hair and green eyes, was neither a looker nor ugly, and her build was nothing impressive either. She was, by all accounts, a usual Abyssal for her age. Healthier and better looking than mundanes, with fewer wrinkles and more decisive movements. Wordlessly, she sat down at the opposite side of the elliptic table and stared at John. The Gamer, without using Observe, already had a hunch what would come out of her mouth.
“You killed my son.” Exhaling slowly, he leaned back in his chair and looked at the edge of the table. The woman continued. “I’m not the only mother who you left with one or all her children gone! I’m just the only one that got to speak to you! Monster, charlatan, you spiteful…” insults flew his way, each more vitriolic than the next. The only breaks between them came from the sniffing she did. Finally seeing the perpetrator must have riled up emotions she had mostly buried by now.
Behind him stood a maid that got progressively angrier. She didn’t show it outwardly, because John told her to stay calm, but Aclysia was seething. Her reaction was a lot more intense than John’s resignation to the fact or Rave’s indifference.
When the screaming came to a stop, the mother gathering her breath between tear-filled gasps, John finally said his piece. “I’m sorry for your loss. I did nothing in the war I regret.”
The woman half-choked on her tears, pressed out a squeak, “You don’t regret killing people?!”
“I regret the loss of life. I did it to defend what was important to me. After all, it was the Lake Alliance that attacked my home.” The Gamer stared at the woman who, on initially shaky legs, stood up and then headed for the door.
It was doubtful she would change her mind, presented with his stance on the matter. This was a person that would likely continue to hate him. There would always be some that did. Among them, those he had made childless or orphans definitely had a good reason to do so. He did not agree that it was reasonable to expect him to spare people that assaulted him, particularly those that didn’t surrender, but loss was stronger than logic.
“What a vile woman,” Aclysia finally said.
“I’m not sure we can make any judgements until we have lost a child,” John sighed and gestured at Emrik. “Send in the last.”
The third was another woman. This one was a bit on the uglier side, as far as John was concerned. She was also chubby, which wasn’t in and of itself off-putting, but John preferred athletic women. She was older, but appeared younger, due to a higher level of power. Her hair was dirty blonde and curly, her eyes brown, and her smile seemed to be more out of habit than because she was happy to see him.
“I’m Emrik’s wife Marcella,” she introduced herself, walking over to her husband to kiss him before she went over to John to finish introducing herself. “I hope you give him only half as much worry as he has.”
“We’ll see about that,” John joked.
