NOVEL FROG Chapter 322 - I gotta ask… what are your plans for New York?
Richard frowned. “Eric, there’s no such thing. It’s the Federal Reserve Bank in New York that holds around what, half a million bars of gold?”
But Yuki’s eyes widened with something close to awe. “Fuck, fuck fuck! He said black book. That means it was outside of formal channels. I heard something about that, Richard, and you did too!”
He furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry, Yuki. I’m not sure I...”
“Don’t you remember how furious the goblins were about what went down in Gilton? They wanted to explode, they were looking for blood so hard. Remember? That was the week we all stayed in your father’s compound because even he was feeling the animus rage. Then the next week, it had somehow all blown over.”
Richard frowned, now taking a good hard look at a beaming Eric. “Is that why they’re all gunning so hard for his death?”
“Bingo!” Eric cheerfully confirmed.
Yuki, however, did not look happy. “Then why the fuck are you scrounging here in nothing more than primitive gear made of bone and lizard hides when you could be gallivanting around the galaxy with a dozen enlightened tutors paving your way to Bronze and who knows what else, with a half trillion to your name?”
Eric laughed. “That’s easy. For one thing, why the fuck would I leave Earth? We’re earning potency 100 times faster what suckers who weren’t born here that are adventuring anywhere else in the galaxy are earning, unless they’re also from an ascending planet. If I left, my Experience gain rate would be one fucking tenth of what it is now. Because honestly, why else would we be shooting past centuries-old elves pleased to finally hit level 30 before coming here if we didn’t have something strong going for us? And since the mana or potency released here or whatever is even giving outworlders that weren’t born here a 10-fold boost to their own growth rates… that explains why everyone and their mom is trying to find tickets to filter into our world. And, as we saw by a certain Bronze-tier minotaur hiding in an Orange-tier fucking dungeon, not everyone’s willing to play by the rules.”
Yuki winced sheepishly. “Yeah, I really don’t recall what happened between the minotaur bearing down on us and you, well...” her cheeks flushed prettily. “Absolutely saving our asses?”
Eric winked, buffing his fingernails. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome like that. Anyway, the cost of not having the Galactic Counsel itself coming after my head for being such an eclectic fuck full of forbidden powers just happened to match whatever I might or might not have claimed from a vault that might or might not have never existed. Cappiche?”
“That’s pretty fucked up,” Richard said, crossing his arms. “You had to give up the most massive haul imaginable just to be put on, what, a Silver-tier do-not-kill list?”
Eric flashed a bitter smile, cocking his finger. “Bingo! Only White-tier assholes and whatever high leveled shits the corrupt fucks already on Earth managed to smuggle on planet are allowed to slaughter me with impunity. Or at least, that’s what my Know The Score perk is strongly implying.”
Richard scowled. “And it means that high powered players are staring down at us even now. Getting off on watching us fight for our lives.”
Yuki nodded. “And the minute that any of us find some unorthodox way to survive without desperate peril, that’s when they swoop down to take us off the board.”
“You got it!” Eric said. “Unless you can pay the price. The good news is that anything else I earn from this point on is mine. And I plan on using my unorthodox powers to earn a fucking ton of sweet, sweet lewt. So enough of that shit. Who exactly is this high powered Administrator who’s absolutely certain he’s stumbled into a second shipment of goodies being sent to us for some contest no one’s told me shit about? And conveniently wants us to steel it, and you’re absolutely sure we’re not being set up because...”
Yuki scowled. “Damn, you do make it sound sketchy as fuck.”
“That’s because it is sketchy as fuck. But if you let me bring in some friends… friends who helped me lock in some incredibly sweet prizes, once upon a time, maybe we can see if it’s a salvageable operation or not. Because I’m all about Ocean’s Seven...”
“But not thirteen, where they all get caught. I get it.”
Richard exchanged a look with Yuki. “You know, he has a point. If these are actual professionals...”
“I know!” Yuki said, before turning Eric’s way. “But first thing’s first. We told you that our contact once removed is a highly placed UFN member. How much do you know about what UFN actually stands for?”
Eric frowned. “UFN? Honestly, I glazed over the acronym. My focus is on the heist, not the background.”
“Well, genius, it stands for the United Federation of Nations.”
Eric blinked, then broke out in laughter. “Let me guess. This is some bullshit association that our uninvited guests cooked up?
Richard nodded. “That about sums it up, yes.”
“Alright, then I know they’re unelected hacks and puppets, the humans among them, anyway, taking full advantage of bullshit lawfare classes to pass laws and edicts that only hurt our own kind and help the slimy bastards that they sold out to.” Eric flashed an ice-cold smile. “And I also know, for a fact, that their edicts and strictures will have absolutely no effect on you, to the point that they will literally burst into flame in the air, if you give them absolutely zero respect in your mind and in your heart. If you know that there is zero legitimacy to their so called ‘laws’ and that they are nothing more than tools of oppression and subjugation. So the whole UFN can go fuck themselves silly, as far as I’m concerned. At this point, I don’t two shits about what any of them thinks or says.”
Richard and Yuki frowned. “Even if that puts you at odds with the entire world?”
Eric chuckled coldly. “All that means is that a diplomatic win is off the table. We’ve all played CiV-9000, I’m sure. Once diplomacy and tech advancements are off the table, what’s left?”
Yuki’s gaze hardened. “100% conquest. Achieving victory through the absolute and utter subjugation of all other players.”
Eric’s grin was all teeth. “Damn straight.”
Richard sighed, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “Eric… you do know that our families are a part of the UFN, don’t you? Or at least they are, on a local level.”
Eric turned away, gazing at the tree line, still a bit shaken to see the demarcation where a forest of frozen icicles was replaced by lush, green, fecund life and growth. Even if the incident had effectively scared off all the wildlife, this Orange tier area now being as peaceful as a park, pre-apocalypse.
“Yeah, I get it.”
Yuki scowled. “Before we even talk shop, Eric, I gotta ask… what are your plans for New York?”
Eric lifted his gaze, holding Yuki’s own. “I think you already know. And before you say anything else, would you like to hear what the latest batch of happy-go-lucky assholes had to say, while driving up here?”
Eric didn’t wait for a reply before calling out to the car.
“Hey, stumpy! How are those nubs of yours feeling?”
“Fuck you, Eric Silver!”
Eric grinned. “Damn straight. Because who needs arms… when you can have a full 3/4ths of a profit share!”
“I want a hundred percent, you goddamned dickwad! A full cut. Officially one of your crew!”
Eric smirked. “Well, maybe. Maybe if I know I can trust you… that might actually be on the table.”
The goblin snorted, turning to glare Eric’s way. “Do you really think I can go back and live this down? Think again, asshole! You effectively killed me!” His monstrous glare turned to a desperate plea. “My life isn’t worth shit. But if we could actually tap into New York’s vaults? It would make getting the hell out of here and starting over a hell of a lot easier. As for trustworthiness...” The goblin glared long and hard at Eric. “What the fuck would you know? We both know you plan on seeing me dead at the end of this, no matter how sweet your words or entertaining our little bullshitting sessions might be.”
The rest of the party turned to Eric, faces a mixture of grim acceptance, dismay, even accusation. Because bringing Vooch along and risking humanizing him to Eric’s teammates had definitely been a major fuckup on Eric’s end. He should have just popped him and called it quits, so his allies would have had absolutely no reason to care.
But he just had to get greedy.
“Glad you’re not a complete idiot, Voochy baby. So, what do you suggest?”
“A blood oath.”
The entire group paused at this.
“Is there really such a thing?” Steve wondered allowed.
The goblin snorted. “Of course there is! As this annoying human should know. He’s a bloodmage. Or did you fools not figure that out already?”
“Yeah, we figured that much out,” Emily said with a flat stare for Eric and Vooch both.
“Good. Because the Bloodtear Syndicate is well aware that he’s already blood-bound multiple Javelineers he was too weak-willed… I mean thoughtful and considerate enough not to kill.” He smirked. “It’s not the same as taking an oath to an administrator, but since I don’t want to crack my foundation, and better yet, actually want to live past sundown… I’ll take the fucking oath!”
Eric gazed at the goblin for long moments, thoughts racing between steadying breaths.
For the goblin to know that had to mean several things. One, the Bloodtear Syndicate was far more organized and better informed than Eric had given them or anyone else credit for, which shouldn’t surprise him at all, considering they had hostile sages and ties to even worse working on their behalf. Two, they weren’t above doing their homework, and planning tactical contingencies that Eric found positively chilling. Three, if Vooch, the least of an admittedly deadly trio of assassins… former assassins, knew that much, then Eric strongly suspected he knew another ugly truth as well.
The rune-bound oathbindings were pure bullshit. A shiny rune that might have a tad bit of soul-binding permanence, but that in and of themselves amounted to no more than permanent tattoo ink that non even leveling would get rid of, at the cost of a tiny handful of Eric’s experience points, which was a hell of a lot more concentrated now than it had been for him as a level 9 Contender. Because sure, he might have picked up some insights… hell, a lot of insights from Morlekai, including how to use blood magic to share experience and effectively create a pseudo party without actually having mastered any system method or perhaps Guild-method of forming a party like Richard had clearly learned how to do. But as far as actually destroying people’s foundations or subtly dooming them? That had all been in their minds.
OR at least, that’s what he thought.
But if this little goblin shit was actually suggesting it… then that meant he both knew it was bullshit AND that he thought Eric was such an idiot that he didn’t even realize that he was fooling both himself and his supposed victims, a bit of group hypnosis where everyone’s effected by the same delusion. But not the simpering goblin begging for some kind of chance to go on living… a goblin who would then be free to act like a sycophantic fuck while Eric and his friends’ guards slowly eased for the sake of their new friend… who would no doubt then bust his absolute ass to strike Eric and his friends at their most vulnerable moments and savor the most massive payoff in terms of credits and levels that little shit could earn over who knows how many years or even decades with any other scheme.
Of course, it was always possible that the little shit was absolutely sincere in believing that the blood-oaths actually had any sort of retributive power, or simply wanted a shot a survival and would actually help them pull off the heist of a lifetime in good faith.
But Eric sure as heck wasn’t going to bet his life on it… or the lives of his friends.
And the way the goblin’s eyes widened, flinching back when he caught Eric’s gaze, as if suddenly understanding just how wily the eccentric seeming half-mad half-elf who dared to challenge the entire fucking world really was… made it clear that Vooch understood that Eric knew exactly how he was trying to set Eric up, and he had effectively just signed his death warrant.
“No, wait, there must be a way… wait!” Vooch screamed, revealing true fear as Eric closed the distance, preparing to do what he should have done from the start. Because all their words so far had been bullshit, verbal sparring, cloak and dagger, without an ounce of potency, sincerity, or spiritual energy put in a single thing he had said. As far as Eric was concerned, deceiving his enemy the way he had, was no more ‘wrong’ than feinting an opponent out in combat before striking his target with a killing blow. And he was quietly certain that he’d earn nothing worse than a cold smile from Eve, so long as he didn’t cross the glaring red line of a formal Cultivator’s Oath.
“No wait, I can be useful! Please!”
Then, just inches above the trembling goblin’s head, ignoring the alarmed expressions of his friends and Yuki’s confused frown… because hadn’t he said he was going to use the little shit, not kill him? Eric froze, eyes widening, hit by an epiphany so profound it shook him, his too long pushed aside master class making it exquisitely clear, just as it had reminding him of a certain skill evolution he could take with his Psionic Rupture… there might be a way forward that actually allowed the goblin before him to live.
Eric didn’t stop to analyze it as he smacked his hand against the trembling armless goblin’s sweaty forehead. He didn’t dare to. He simply allowed the frisson of certainty that somehow mingling the same Revenant-raising potential as he once had invested in raising literally thousands of opponents from the dead to infuse the blood trickling out of his pores… and mingling with Vooch’s own.