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The Gamer Chapter 874 – The Right to Conquer
🕑 Added 2020-11-06 21:08:02 +0000 UTC“I was told to show you all my respect,” John continued to assert himself on the gathering by dictating the conversation. Reaching into his inventory, he withdrew a large black suitcase. It was the kind that was often used in movies or plays, but John had rarely ever seen one actually used in public. He placed it on the table, flipped open the clasps and lifted the lid. Then he turned it around to show everyone the contents.
“A complete Fusion officer equipment set,” he told them. “Minus the uniform, of course.” He picked out a couple choice items and lifted them up to show them off. Each time, he placed the item back in the suitcase afterwards. First, a small box, about the size of his thumb. “Contact lenses – enchanted to dispel basic illusions and hide supernatural eye colours from mundanes.” Next, he pulled out a knife and sword of bronze colour, shimmering with red, blue, brown and green. “A Baelementium multi-purpose knife and combat sword.” Third, he lifted an array of nice fountain pens up. “Something to sign official documents with.” Lastly, he raised a tightly packaged, black bundle. “A bodysuit enchanted for protection and flexibility, usually worn underneath the uniform.” He closed the lid again and gave the case a powerful push, making it slide halfway down the table. “My gifts to all of you here, separate them among yourselves.”
He leaned backwards again and finally gave the room time to breathe and oppose him. “You really think those gifts will be enough to respect all of us?!” one of the guild master’s cried out.
“I hadn’t been informed how many people would attend,” John responded immediately. “I could have perhaps prepared something easier shared, but that would have taken for all of you to communicate with me in a better fashion. That aside,” his gaze swept through the room, “I am giving you more than you have given me. Keep your expectations in check.”
“We have gathered here for your convenience. That warrants a bit more respect than you’re showing,” the person on the other side of the table returned. He seemed to be the only one with enough willpower to not be intimidated by John.
‘No, that’s not quite correct,’ the Gamer thought, seeing the white colour of the man’s knuckles. He was in his late thirties, by the look of things. Some white peppered into the black of his beard and a number of wrinkles surrounded his light green eyes. ‘He’s just stubborn enough to talk despite being intimidated.’ “Let’s say I agreed with that, I don’t have any more gifts I could give you. What would you want for me to show the depth of my respect?”
One of the sleazier looking guild masters giggled and raised his voice. “Well, you got a lot of nice wom-“
“For the love of fuck, shut up, Wesley,” the leader of the assembly shouted his comrade down and glanced over to John.
The Gamer was trying to keep a nice smile on his face, but he knew it looked stilted. “By all means, let him continue,” he offered, seeing Siena already behind Wesley’s chair. The moonshade elemental’s sharp tail was aimed directly at the man’s throat. “If he really wants to say it, he can. That would just prove he doesn’t know who he is talking to.”
There was silence in the room as people looked back and forth between Wesley and John. The Gamer only focused on the likely slaver and waited. “Y-you got a lot of nice women,” Wesley stuttered, his cocky attitude melted now that there could be consequences, “surely you could give us some tips on flirting or something.”
“Ha!” John laughed once, genuinely. “Good dodge. I will allow it.” He looked back over to the leader of the assembly. “Think that got our karma equalized, Ron?”
“…Yes,” the dark-haired man responded slowly. It was obvious he wanted to demand more of John, but his unruly allies had just ruined that chance. “Let’s… just continue. I have a question for you, John Newman.” The Gamer leaned back and folded his hands again, waiting. “What do you want to accomplish here today? Why did you have Horace arrange this meeting?”
“I want each and every single one of you to subjugate yourselves to Fusion, obey the constitution, and be integrated into the federal network as a new state,” the Gamer responded swiftly and calmly.
The guild masters broke out into a frenzied cavalcade of insults and deprecations. Remaining calm, John got as comfortable as he could on the wooden chair and waited for the rage to simmer down. “What makes you think we will agree to that?!” Ron shouted the loudest and made everyone quiet down in anticipation of the answer.
“You can either negotiate with me today or be conquered. I would prefer it if as many people as possible came out of this alive.”
“Shouldn’t you say that everyone should come out alive?” someone interjected.
“I’m not optimistic enough for that. Some of you will have committed crimes that are absolutely unforgivable. The appropriate judgement will be given.” John remained blunt in all of what he said. These people already thought the worst of him. Buttering them up would have worked if he spoke to them individually or in small groups. As one large conglomerate, they amplified each other’s distaste. The negotiations had essentially been failed the moment the format was decided. Still, he had to say his piece. “If you admit things to me right here and tell me what you would do to atone, perhaps most of you can walk away alive. We can talk about many things. The exact borders of this new state, your rights and privileges, what can be maintained and what needs to be replaced. If you value your greed above everything else, I can bribe you to stand out of my way. You’ll lead happy lives as long as you obey the law.” John moved his elbows to the table and rested his chin on his still folded hands. “It’s your decision to make.”
“Go fuck yourself,” one of the guild master’s hissed, a couple others sharing the sentiment. Many more were silent and likely weighing their options.
Once more, it was Ron who put the discussion back on track. “Is it really our decision when a foreign tyrant threatens to march on our guilds?” he asked. “What even makes you think you have the right, huh? For all of your talk about judgement and civilization, you are behaving like a brute yourself.”
“Correct,” John responded. “This does not mean my position is immoral, however. I have the right to conquer you through strength because you yourself reign only through strength. You call me a tyrant, yet you are one yourself. I sincerely offer you the choice to play my game of negotiations, wealth and equality, or play your game of power.” He shrugged slowly. “It’s no secret that I will win in either case.”
‘My, my, what a statement,’ Siena gasped inside his thoughts. ‘All of this superiority is getting me so… excited…’ She reached the very end of the table and bent over the back of Ron’s chair. Even that man was completely oblivious to the immediate death that could befall him. ‘All of this criminal scum, trying to dominate you and struggling miserably. Ah, this is just exactly why I love you.’
‘Behave, Siena,’ he told her. The moonshade elemental was putting her claws a bit too close to the man’s face. If she got too cocky, that would damage not only the negotiations but his reputation. The only way he could suppress the news that he had broken his word would be if he killed everyone in the room, which was even worse.
‘Fine,’ she responded with a sexy sigh and backed off.
“You could just leave us alone,” Ron suggested. “We’d pay you tribute.”
John shook his head. “No, you know that’s impossible. Your tribute would be blood money, and even if you can’t sell slaves any more, you will still keep them inside your mana factories. Aside from the moral argument, I have pragmatic reasons as well. I need to link up Florida with the rest of Fusion and the exclave of another great power cannot be allowed to form on these shores. Your geographic location is low on resources, but otherwise too important to ignore.”
“So, it’s your way or the highway then.”
“Indeed,” John confirmed.
“I’d rather die and fight than subjugate myself to your bullshit,” someone threw in.
“You won’t take my territory from me!”
“Yeah, fuck you.”
“Get lost, Gamer.”
“This is our land.”
Ron showed a grim smile. “We will not go under without a fi-“
“Then fight,” John interrupted him and the entire room fell silent to listen to him again. “We will have it your way. I will end this squabble over territory in the same way any of you would if you could. The only problem all of you have is that it isn’t you who will win.”
“Whatever you say, Gamer,” Ron laughed. It didn’t matter if John was right or not. All that mattered was that they had their independence. These people weren’t acting on any principles, only on their own benefit.
‘Hmm, seems like this meeting only existed to get the front unified,’ John analysed. ‘Doesn’t really matter. If this is all they can muster, then crushing them will be more of a matter of finding them than fighting them… might as well rip that band aid off.’ “If you’re that insistent on fighting, we might as well do it right now,” the Gamer offered and stood up. “All of you against me. If you win, I swear that I will leave this area alone for as long as I live. If I win, you will submit without further complaints.”
“If we win, we’ll just kill you!” someone shouted.
“I wouldn’t recommend that. Thana is still a thing,” John returned and rolled his neck. “Do what you want to though.”
“We won’t fight you here,” Ron shouted, gaining himself a few confused glances. “Why would we face off against you right now and take your word? You already said you need this land. Better for us to just gather our men and beat you in the field for a true victory!”
‘You mean a victory where you are less likely to be in danger,’ John thought, but instead nodded. “Not the worst plan you could have. What if I were to sweeten the deal?” Opening his inventory, John pressed a button to immediately equip his battle set. People around the table jumped to their feet, ready to flee or defend themselves.
John calmly grabbed the black guard on his left arm. “Purgatory, an item forged from Mithril and Oblivium that grants a noticeable increase in physical power and synergises greatly with Elementalists and Arcanists.” He placed the item on the table, then pulled off the massive metal glove on his right. “The Talon of the Ravenlord. It limits your dexterity a lot, especially when the claws are at the end of your fingers rather than slotted to the back. As a weapon, it’s a threatening tool, able to push back assaults or infuse your attacks with lightning.” The table creaked when he put it down as well. He slid out of his jacket and held it up. “The Suit of the Chosen. An item that can be repeatedly infused with different enchantments and a gift of Gaia herself to me.” He tossed it on the table as well. He took off his shirt and, completely seriously, stated, “Silk,” and dropped it down on the table as well.
“I will fight you as I am now,” he explained, standing there shirtless and without weapons. One by one he held up the things he had discarded and put them away. “Should you defeat me, I will give you all of these things, in addition to my earlier promise.”
“You might as well fight in your underwear,” someone laughed.
“Yes, why don’t you lose the pants as well,” Ron mocked, and the laughter spread to everyone.
John wasn’t offended. He would need to feel threatened by these people or doubt his attractiveness to feel harmed by their words. “I take it this still isn’t good enough for you then?” he asked, Purgatory in hand.
“I don’t trust you to keep your word to leave us alone, why would I trust you to give us these items?” Ron wanted to know.
“A fair point,” John conceded and tossed Purgatory across the room. “Take it then. You may fight me with it.”
The man caught the armguard and obviously couldn’t believe that he was holding it. With slow, almost dreamy motions he strapped the thing in place. There was fire when the item transformed into the obsidian claw. It seared away the shirt that would have been in the way and made Ron panic for a second. Once he realized the fire wasn’t burning him, he calmed down again. He looked down at the sharp tool of destruction his hand had become. With a basic gesture of his hand, he cut five trenches into the table.
John could see the envy of everyone. More than that, he could see the greed of Ron wrestle with his caution. It didn’t take a genius to read that the Gamer was so confident in his ability to win, he was willing to give everything. “S-still not good enough,” Ron stated. “What about that?” he asked and pointed at the Mandala Sphere.
“Hmm, even if I offered it to you, it would be useless to you,” John said. “I will fight without it, I hope that’s good enough for you?” He now showed a bit of hesitation. Apparently, he needed to fake vulnerability. Only when they thought they could win, would they agree.
“Almost.” Ron thought he was the shark smelling blood, clenching his improved fist.
“…Every one of you who individually wants to submit without this fight, you’re welcome to opt out,” John said in an almost pleading tone, as if the loss of the Mandala Sphere left him in a situation where he could lose. Nobody took the offer. ‘A true school of sharks,’ the Gamer thought. “Well… what else can I offer… uhm… I can fight you while blind in one eye?” he took out one contact lens and put it into his inventory along the Mandala Sphere. He deliberately slumped his shoulders to make himself look smaller, as if he was now afraid. His eyes darted around in a paranoid but stubborn fashion. ‘If they buy into the worst rumours about my pride, they might just buy I’m too thick-headed to quit at this point.’
“I think those conditions are acceptable to us, aren’t they, boys and girls?” Ron asked the room and got universal agreement. “No reason to even wait any longer!” he shouted and several people, already on their feet from when John had brandished his equipment, ignited magic and auras.
“Well, it’s not my property.” The Gamer smirked. His sudden return to confidence caused confusion all around. It created a moment long enough for him to raise his foot.
He kicked the long table with all of his might.
Comments
themidnightwarlock
Thats the one
Jörg Sonnenberger
30s to defeat, 4:30 to monologue
