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Interlude 15
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 04:56:49 +0000 UTCINTERLUDE (XV)
Star Potential
“Pardon me miss. So sorry for the inconvenience, but, may I see your membership badge?”
Asha glared up at the attendant. Fixing him with the best imitation she could manage of her direct superior, Keshra Rae’Shafeer. Daughter of well renowned CEO, Bashar Rae’Shafeer, and all around bane of her existence. Born with a golden spoon rammed up her rear, the haughty look of scorn she’d cultivated over the years could’ve shamed the pants off the exalted emperor of emperors himself, so far as Asha was concerned.
Asha’s imitation, meanwhile, clearly left much to be desired.
The slim attendant, dressed sharply in a navy blue, brown checkered suit, didn’t even bat an eye.
Instead, the male flashed her another practiced smile, although, most notably, the expression failed to reach his eyes. Bathed in sunlight, courtesy of the far wall of floor to ceiling windows, the employe’s polished green scales gleamed nearly as brightly as the sleek pin affixed to his lapel. An elegant depiction of two proud beasts locked in combat—the brand logo of Amour-Propre, a luxury fitness gym that only catered to the wealthy.
Asha dredged up as much condescension as she could manage. Considering the literal years she’d spent as Keshra’s plaything, she, thankfully, had a library of instances to choose from.
“Ha! Good one.” taking his words as a joke, Asha tried to walk around the glorified attendant, only for an upraised arm to bar her way.
“Miss, this is a restricted area,” he nodded towards the sign that read ‘Spa & Wellness Center.’ “Without the appropriate access, I’m afraid I cannot let you through.”
“Are you-“ Asha spluttered. “My gods, you’re serious…! Ugh!” Asha sagged, rolling her eyes like some petulant child. “I really do not need this today. You! What’s you’re name?”
As she raised her voice, those inside the main fitness area began to take notice. Craning their necks around in her direction, even as they continued to run on treadmills or finish up their sets. The long, open space characterized by grey wood paneling, impossibly high ceilings, and black marble columns with golden veins.
The wealth on display strangely understated. Only really made apparent once you scrutinized the rows upon rows of top of the line equipment. The space somehow managing to cultivate a sense of austere luxury.
Evidently taken aback by her tone, he made to give her his name instinctually. She cut him off.
“Actually? You know what? Doesn’t matter. Look, whoever you are, do you have any idea who Iam?”
“I-I’m afraid not, miss,” he was beginning to look nervous now.
“Well, needless to say, I could have your head stuck on a pike out front with a single conversation. Now, if you don’t wish for this to be your last day of employment in this puny sector,period, I’d kindly ask that you get the hell out of my way!”
The attendant hesitated, clearly unsure. Recognizing that he needed the slightest push, Asha pulled up her wrist device and dialed a number in her contacts. The call was picked up immediately.
“Hi daddy!” she paused for effect. “Hmm? Yeah I’m fine. Well, except there’s this dummy that’s trying to make me late for my eight thirty,” pause. “Yeah, the one we talked about. The one with the soft hands?” pause. “Well I tried to tell him that but he won’t listen!” pause. “Yeah he’s right here. He’s standing right in front of me.”
Asha flicked a vindictive glance in his direction, watching him squirm uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
“Okay, just one sec.”
She turned to face the attendant fully. No doubt, if he’d had the capacity to perspire in that moment, he would’ve been sweating bullets. In as sickly sweet a tone as she could muster, Asha addressed the attendant.
“What did you say your name was again?”
The reptilian man broke.
“T-there’s really no need for anything so… drastic. Esteemed mistress, please accept my humblest of apologies,” he stepped aside and waved her into the cordoned off area. “If there’s anything I can do to-”
“No need,” Asha strutted past the frazzled attendant with a dismissive sniff, as if she weren’t ecstatic that it’d actually worked.
Maintaining the fictional conversation with the other person on the line as she marched down the wide hallway. Only once she’d turned a corner, and was faced with the steamy glass doors which led onto the spa floor proper, did she tune back in to the other end of the line.
“-see here! I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing at, lady, but we don’t take kindly to prank calls here at Uncle Foo’s Noodle Emporium, and I most certainly ain’t your daddy-!”
Asha promptly ended the call, took a deep breath to calm her nerves, checked to make sure the scale dye she’d applied to her normally brown scales was still in place, before she confidently stepped through the sliding double doors.
It wouldn’t do to look anything but her best, most confident self. After all, she had an director to pitch to.
+++
Scra Pa’sheer stumbled up the rocky incline of the ravine floor. Leaning on the sheer cliff face for support, as he drunkenly marched his way ever onward. Upward. Towards the flighty chimps and their little hide away. He could smell them now. The scent of dried blood and unwashed bodies carrying on the wind.
He was getting close.
Abruptly, the world around him spun, the crime boss doubled over, and the contents of his stomach were summarily evacuated. Made to spatter his feet, the ground, and his shins in that order. His vision swam as pure agony pulsed through his head and stomach. The debilitating sensations taking a concerning amount of time to abate. In the meantime, the crime boss swayed on his feet, nearly fell. Forced to lean into the rock wall and simply wait to recover.
When his eyes finally deigned to focus, he almost recoiled at the sight of all that blood, as well as other… more solidified bits, mixing with the regurgitated bile. Hand held to his stomach, and the clear imprint that persisted there, Scrap stepped over the unsightly mess. Dead set on completing his self appointed mission.
The little demon had taken everything from him. Scrap thought it only fair he repay the favor in kind.
With his sharp hearing, the low tones of conversation could just barely be heard. Women’s hushed voices. And children, by the sound of it. Good. They were all together. That would make things go by much faster.
The world around him spun once more, and once more, bloody bile splattered his toes. His head was growing disconcertingly light. His thoughts distracted and muddled. He knew he’d hit his head in the fall, he just hadn’t recognized how badly. As he marched on, he mumbled to himself incoherently. The words seeming to spill out of his mouth like rotten teeth. Poorly conceived and malformed.
“Ain’t nobody bigger and badder… ain’t nobody… nobody bigger and better than… no one bigger’n me…”
Except, that wasn’t true though, was it?
“You shut your rotten trap,” he slurred.
A little boy still in diapers humbles the big bad crime boss? What a joke.
“I’ll kill you! Dead- you hear me?! Poke your bloody eyes out…! Make a bloody… bloody…?”
Butcher of the Laneways? Bane of the North End Districts? You don’t look so scary to me.
“A bloody noose out of your intestines! I’m not done. Just haven’t won yet. You ain’t seen nothing yet. Nothing!”
Oh yeah? Prove it.
And, thus provoked, the crime boss strained to do just that. It was a struggle to pry the black cards free with two broken arms, but in the end he managed.
Subject: Transaction Alert: Transfer of Free Attribute Points
We are currently processing a transfer of 219,640,002 free attribute points into your personal account. Please confirm this request to proceed.
ERROR: This is an unusually large transaction. Some funds are unavailable at this time. The available free attribute points will be transferred to your account shortly.
For the full transfer, please contact a registered Consortium Bank representative to discuss the remaining balance.
Thank you for banking with us.
Without even skimming the transfer alert, Scra Pa’sheer began throwing free points into all his attributes with reckless abandon. First a couple, then a dozen, then a hundred at a time. Boosting them well past the recommended maximum. The effects of which were immediately apparent. Muscles bulged, scales cracked, his vertebrae popped disconcertingly. The sounds of muscle tearing clearly audible, as his musculature rapidly went from defined, to pronounced, to outright grotesque.
He tried to hold it in. He really did. Maintain some semblance of dignity. But, in the end, the pain was just too great. It grew to eclipse his gargantuan pride in far too short a time.
The blood curdling scream which tore its way from his throat deepening from a shrill hiss to a guttural, reverberating roar. As lungs deflated and expanded. Bones shattered and elongated. Ligaments snapped, only to regenerate just as fast.
High up in the sky, clouds shifted to reveal a large full moon—lighting up the night with etherial silver radiance. The long shadow suddenly cast by the bane of the north end districts rapidly swelling and contorting. Growing sharper. More alien. Until what could still be made out from the penumbral silhouette, could only be described as monstrous.
+++
The intern sat across from the senior financial liaison, and did his best not to show any outward signs of how he truly felt inside. Primarily, that he was, not only in a hostage situation, but that, either by raw dint of circumstance or universal vindictiveness, he was the lucky one with the gun to his head. Glancing over at his senior briefly, the senior financial liaison definitely looked the part of an out of his depth hostage-taker.
In the face of everything he’d ever heard about the guy, the malnourished looking male was positively unkempt. Scales dull, necktie loose, cuffs casually unbuttoned. He looked like a man who’d lost everything in the divorce, and could no longer be asked to care. And, given the automated message blaring down from above, and the strobing red lights which were starting to give the intern a headache, the senior liaison’s rather lax attitude came off as somewhat incongruent.
Without bothering to offer the intern any, the liaison poured himself another glass of amber liquid. Swirling it briefly, before throwing it back. Making the burning tonic disappear like a magic trick. He slammed the glass down hard. Letting out a quiet belch that reeked of alcohol. When he spoke however, his dictation was anything but inebriated.
“Did you do as I asked?”
The intern startled.
“Y-yes, sir! I, uh, compiled all the best clips I could find, just like you said. I- well, I actually think it turned out rather well. Would you like to see-”
“No!” the liaison exclaimed, nearly rising out of his chair, before he cleared his throat, eased back, and continued in more soothing tones. “No need. No need. I trust your judgement. Besides, if there’s anything they don’t like, I’m sure the news stations won’t hesitate to remove it. Journalistic integrity is dead, son, remember that.”
The intern was a bit perturbed by this. He’d worked really hard on that edit. Actually? Speaking of which…
“T-there was one thing I wanted to speak to you about-”
“Is this about your payment? Don’t fret, my boy. As promised, I fully intend to bequeath onto you all of my worldly possessions, just as soon as this little transaction of ours is finished,” the liaison raised a refilled glass to his lips, smirked, snorted, then began cackling maniacally for several long seconds.
The intern had to wait a while for him to get a hold of himself.
“No- that’s not what I- uh, that is to say, thank you sir, for your unbelievable generosity,” the liaison snorted, nearly collapsed into another fit of uncontrollable laughter. “But that’s not what I meant. The footage… at certain points… I don’t know how this is possible, sir, but the live broadcast was corrupted.”
The intern thought back to the very first time he’d caught the anomaly. It was just after the subject of interest returned from wherever it was he’d disappeared to for those six hours. After dispatching a group of underside lowlifes with surprising ease—the appearance of which he’d still yet to rectify with the iron clad sector lock—he’d bent down to do something to one of the bodies, when the screen suddenly cut to black.
Leaving a confused intern staring off into darkness. Before his brain was even given the chance to switch into trouble fixing mode, the screen flickered back to life. Only, instead of the surveillance drone shot he’d been expecting, he was greeted with the intro of a tacky entertainment program. Depicting an impractically costumed humanoid giant fighting what looked to be a menagerie of equally giant un-enlightened races.
It was all very strange.
And then, just as quickly as it had come, the screen cut back to a top down view of the tutorial once more. The subject of interest back on the move. Bound bodies now nowhere to be seen. Over the next few minutes, that same glitch occurred five more times. Each starting off where the previous interruption had ended. To the point that he was actually starting to get somewhat invested, when the alert to attend the senior liaison at his earliest convenience buzzed his wrist device.
Before the intern could explain any of this, however, the senior liaison waved him away with a dismissive hand.
“You got the footage that I asked for?”
“Well, yes, but-!”
“Then all’s well. In fact, from now on, I don’t want to hear another word come out of your mouth that isn’t either ‘yes,’ or ‘sir.’ Am I understood?”
“Y-yes sir.”
“Good, now-“ he was interrupted by a buzzing on his wrist device.
An incoming call. And, by the looks of it, from someone high up the corporate ladder indeed. The intern’s eyes widened. Was that the CFO? The senior liaison made a face, before denying the call. Almost immediately, his wrist device began buzzing once more. He ignored it.
“When I’m gone, make sure to send that recording to every news outlet this side of the andromeda. It’s a fairly remarkable story. I’d be surprised if it doesn’t get picked up by at least a few,” then, under his breath, so low he probably thought the intern couldn’t hear him, he said…
“He wants anonymity?” the liaison snorted. “Well, best he learn early on that very rarely in this world do we get what we want. And the best part is, technically, I’m doing him a favor. I doubt there’s a newly integrated ingrate among the rabble that’s averse to galactic fame and fortune. Really, he should be thanking me.”
Fixated on one thing in particular, the intern forgot to abide by the strict order he was under.
“Gone sir? Are you headed somewhere?”
Instead of blowing up at him for his forgetfulness, the liaison merely smirked.
“In a manner of speaking,” he said, before reaching under his desk and retrieving a revolver.
The intern froze, as he then proceeded to raise the barrel of the thing to his own temple.
“Contractual obligations, you understand.”
He then slipped the vibrating wrist device from his arm, brought his heel down on the jittering black thing from where it landed—silencing it for good—before finally lifting his gaze to meet the intern’s own.
“Just a suggestion, but you might want to look away for this next part.”
+++
Towel pressed to her chest to preserve her modesty, Asha gingerly slipped into the clear water of the natural hot spring. Raising her head to the sky of the genuine outdoor communal bathhouse, to mask the way her scales immediately cried out in agony. When the attendant had explained to her what a hot spring was, Asha wished she’d placed greater emphasis on the “hot,” as opposed to the “spring.” Submerged in what had to have been boiling water, she eventually managed to relax into the stone backrest.
If not fully on board with the abnormally high temperatures, then at least on agreeable terms with them. After a minute or so of this, she turned to the only other occupant of the massive pool at this hour. Reclining not a few inches to her right, eyes closed, muscles relaxed, she seemed perfectly at ease.
“Director Avear Nah’Veen? My name is Asha Na’Keer, and I work as a freelance talent acquisition specialist. Now, I really hate to take up any more of your time than is absolutely necessary, so I’ll just get straight to the point. Currently, I have a number of candidate profiles in my possession which I believe you may be very interested in. If you’d only take the time to review one of them, I’m positive you will not regret it.”
Without even opening her eyes, she responded.
“You have five seconds to tell me why I shouldn’t call security on you right this instant.”
Asha froze. Unsure how she’d garnered such a hostile reaction so quickly. As if sensing her confusion, the acquisition director reached out and ran a finger down along Asha’s neck, making her shudder.
“You’re dripping.”
Retrieving her hand, Asha saw that the director’s finger came away smeared in the bright red dye she used to mask her less than upperclass heritage. Despite the ungodly temperatures, Asha grew cold. Her eyes snapping down to survey the clear water. Or… what had once been clear. A diluted cloud of red dye spreading out and away from her to muddy the nearby water.
Asha gulped.
Retrieved one of the interactive pads she’d hidden beneath her towel, opened it up to the talent overview she’d prepared, and handed it over to the director. Without a word, the director raised her eyebrow ridge, took the proffered pad, retrieved a pair of glasses from Asha didn’t know where, and began to page through.
Her skeptical expression quickly morphed into a frown, which swiftly turned into a look of outrage. She opened her mouth to speak, but Asha beat her to it.
“Before you say anything! I’m well aware that the Duchess has, more than likely, already reached the attention of upper management. I know, because I was the one to compile that profile.”
She frowned again, made to speak, but again, Asha cut her off. She knew she’d only have one shot at this and so long as she could keep talking, say her piece, there was at least a chance of subverting the false narrative that’d likely already made the rounds.
“I’m also well aware that I was not credited for the acquisition. More than likely it was attributed to a Keshra, Vadra, and Mashree, if I had to wager a guess.”
“I don’t know the other two names, but the high level acquisition was accredited to a Keshra Rae’Shafeer, that is correct.”
At that, Asha snorted. She couldn’t help herself. Honestly, what had she even been thinking? Of course the greedy Vacoor hadn’t shared the credit for such a monumental find. Not even with her two best friends. Well, best friend and recent acquaintance.
“Yes well, she is quite the talent, no? For a senior talent scout, I mean. A role known primarily for its sign-off authority? Very little of her time spent trolling through the actual footage. And yet somehow she’s managed to wrack up a considerable number of personal acquisitions, in her time at the department. This despite the record breaking streak of incompetent subordinates she’s been saddled with.”
The older Ra’ak Neerian scrutinized her for a time.
“Alright. I see your point,” Asha tried not to let out a sigh. “What I don’t understand, is why you’ve come to me with this… grievance. If you were expecting recompense of some kind for your stolen work, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask for you to leave.”
“What if I told you that what Keshra submitted was only the tip of the ice burg. What I was willing to throw away, all for the sake of maintaining secrecy.”
“Well, then I would tell you you’re insane.”
Asha deflated.
“And that, if it were true, what you’re proposing is the kind of thing people will and have killed for.”
Asha snapped her head up in alarm, searching the older female’s eyes for duplicity. But, just as she’d ascertained in initially profiling the woman, there was no obvious threat in her expression, only subtle warning. Asha let out a sigh of relief. She’d picked right after all.
“So… does that mean you don’t wish to review the information?”
“That depends. Are the devices this information is stored on connected to the network?”
“I’m young, not stupid.”
“Good. Then go ahead and hand them over.”
Asha made to do as she asked, then hesitated.
“I- should I get something in writing, or…?”
The older female smirked.
“Don’t test my patience girl. I’d like to see for myself if you really have what it is you claim before we talk about paperwork.”
Locking eyes with her once more, Asha let her spontaneous side take the wheel, and decided to trust her.
She handed over the second pad she’d hidden under her towel. For the next few minutes, the director went through the profiles she’d made on each of the anomalies within that strange tutorial. And while her expression never changed, it was clear in the way her eyes gleamed that she was hooked.
“Well!” she sighed, handing both pads back to her. “That was… unexpected.”
Ha! Talk about an understatement. Just think about how I felt.
“Now, first things first. The baby. I don’t see the execs going for it personally.”
Asha startled. While she’d since fallen out of love with the idea that he was her ticket to bigger and brighter things, she was still shocked at the way she dismissed him outright.
“Why not?”
“External reasons, mostly. I mean, while sure, everyone loves babies, I’m not going to deny that. And they make for killer mascots, also true. Given the nature of the tutorial, eventually one or more is bound to die an especially gruesome death, which is a huge no no for our advertisers. Every time it’s happened, it’s absolutely tanked the season’s ratings. And as far as audience approval?! Ha! Forget about it.”
Asha blinked. The director was speaking as if she’d actually been there for previous integrations. Despite the fact that would make her, effectively, hundreds of years old. And while she’d always known that, with enough power and influence mortality could be slowed, if not halted entirely, this was her first time coming into contact with such a long lived individual.
“Babies. Pregnant mothers. They’re a public relations nightmare. Only the especially twisted individuals actually tune in for that sort of thing, and they aren’t exactly our target audience. It’s gotten to the point that we’ve taken to shoving all the mothers and children into a happy little playpen and forgetting about them. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. Although, given your miraculous discovery, perhaps it’s about time we reevaluate that policy.”
Asha deflated a bit, but when she put it like that, she supposed she understood.
“The others, however?” the director chortled. “What can I say except, ‘star potential.’ You’ve got some serious money makers on your hands and, my gods, a blasted imperial! Of course there’s that whole baby issue to smooth over but, realistically, who’s going to say no to an imperial?!
The director shook her head.
“I thought I’d never see the day. All that said, you do know I can’t accept this without your seniors approval, don’t you?”
The bottom dropped out of Asha’s stomach.
“For the paperwork, you understand. I can’t sign off on a profile that wasn’t at least witnessed by a senior talent scout. Not that it won’t go through, but it will probably bring down an unnecessary amount of scrutiny.”
Seeing that Asha was clearly disheartened by this news, she spoke up once more.
“Tell you what, I have a few subordinates long overdue a bonus. If you sign over partial credit to them, we can nail two birds with one claw. We get all the paper work in order, you get to keep a hefty cut of the commission, and, as the cherry on top, I’ll even go out of my way to get you out from under the thumb of that obnoxious nepo-baby. How does that sound?”
In all honesty, that sounded great. And while she knew that, to some extent, she was being played, it was still a far better deal than she’d even imagined receiving. And yet…
“It’s a deal… on one condition.”
The director raised the scales of her leftmost brow ridge.
“Okay…?”
“I want you to seriously consider the baby’s proposal, and in the event he somehow gets the green light, I want him. He’s my talent to manage from then on.”
She didn’t know why she said it, but, after a few interminable seconds of scrutiny, the director nodded her agreement.
“Alright. I’ll push it up the chain. Honestly there’s a good chance they’re so over the moon with these other two that your fella slips by unnoticed. How about this. You agree to my terms, and I’ll put in a good word with the execs, but I won’t lift a finger more. If this goes through, it’ll be your project. Management, liaison, the whole nine yards. You’ll have to wear a lot of hats to pull this thing off. Think you can handle that?
“Yes ma’am!”
“Good. Remember, I’m sticking my neck out for you here. Don’t disappoint me.”
+++
It was during an especially dry news cycle that a golden goose plopped itself down on the unsuspecting Ra’ak Neerian’s cluttered desk.
The near constant regurgitation of all star clips from previous games, coupled with endless predictions on how this new millennium’s crop of participants would compare, was nearly boring the poor assignment editor for StellarNet Broadcast to tears.
This wasn’t what he’d gotten up in the morning for. This wasn’t what he’d gone to school for—majoring in Journalism despite his father’s insistence it was a dead end career with very few prospects.
On the outside the reptilian man idly played with the nicknacks and fancy paper weights lining his desk, while on the inside he silently raged at the nature of fate and the cruel whims of circumstance.
‘There has to be more to life than this humdrum, monotonous, one note existence!’ his soul exclaimed. ‘There just has to be!’
He needed spice! He needed excitement. For the love of all the gods, he needed sensationalism damn it!
Without those things, really, what was even the point of going on liv-!
A ping interrupted his self serving existential crisis. He glanced at his monitor. At the brand new submission which had appeared inside his work inbox. It was a video. He clicked on the link. Then, over the course of the next fifteen minutes, his posture straightened, his eyes widened, and his soul…? His soul let out a round of rapturous applause.
All along… all this time…! This… this was precisely what he’d been searching for. At long last. Inspired, the assignment editor for StellarNet Broadcast, a trashy tabloid media group by the most generous of interpretations, began to make some calls.
He could see the headline now.
“Straight from the Womb, this Bald Baby Breaks the Mold! Super Spit Surprise Attack Resounds Across the Galaxy!”
+++
It was just as they’d finished placing their digital signatures on the contract Asha had drawn up, that what looked to be a personal attendant of the director rushed into the open bathhouse, frantic and visibly confused.
“Madam Director this… well, you might want to take a look at this. There have been some strange developments.”
The director blinked, took the proffered wrist device from the female attendant, and tapped into the feed. Immediately a couple dozen holo screens blossomed forth to eclipse her vision. The director startled, before scrutinizing each in turn. As Asha watched, her expression turned from curious, to confused, to bemused, before finally settling on mirth.
“Huh,” the woman grunted, flicking a number of the screens her way. “It would seem, you might have your work cut out for you.”
Unsure of what she was talking about, Asha began parsing through the news articles, tabloid headlines, and social media posts. So, so many social media posts.
“I- uh…? What’s happening?”
“He’s a known quantity now, that’s what’s happening. And apparently, he’s a hit. Remember what I told you about mascots? I foresee a very busy week in your immediate future,” the woman chortled.
“But- the contract-”
“That contract you just signed gives you an edge, that’s true, but even still, I wouldn’t rest on my laurels if I were you. Remember, this is merely a preliminary agreement, the execs have yet to sign off on it. And even if they had done, we’re not the only talent acquisition department out there. You’re going to have to be quick if you don’t want someone else to snatch him up before you do.”
“R-right, but this…?” Asha’s eyes trailed over social media’s overwhelming response to the leaked pictures and video.
<No1_Legend> super baby is best baby, prove me wrong
<Princess_Mauk-Mauk223> cuuuuute~!
<Nax The D3vourer> I could just eat him all up up up…
<Becxa_Best_Baker> soooo looking forward to his devil’s run! I just want to see this mega cute baby wreck shop so baaad! Go go super baby! I’m, like, totally a super fan!!!1!
<unsuspecting_bystander> hey, anyone out there got access to the live feed? I’d pay good money to see what this little demon is up to.
<Shaiella Goldenfeather> omg saaaaame!
<one of plenty> I’m with this guy.
<Love_is-life> what he said.
<scumlord69> tech wizards, do your thing!
“Isn’t this all just a bit… much?” Asha asked.
The director merely barked out a laugh.
“Honestly, what did you expect? Kid, your lad has just gone viral.”
Comments
TwistedToaster
"We are currently processing a transfer of 219,640,002 free attribute points into your personal account. Please confirm this request to proceed." -- This is a big WTF? I'm so very very lost and confused here. This makes no sense. These cards can be used by anyone? If so that means he basically painted HUGE targets on anyone with those. How could they not be tied to a specific person when he knew ahead of time who they were getting sent to. This feels like a black hole sized plot hole and a lazy way to rid him of his wealth. I despise stories that make the MC act out of character and have him do something epically dumb to push a plot point. I've been binging this story and have enjoyed it a whole lot. This is the first time been yanked out of the story with what happened. Please tell me I'm misreading this.
guillaume nguyen
Asha is climbing rank fast, good for her. It's quite a shame to have lost so many attributes points, I hope he get a refund or something since the Lizard used his points without his assent. Or since the cards never arrived at their recipients, are they considered ownerless ? Welp, that financial guy was a comet, he disappeared barely a few chapters after his introduction. Common sense shattering comments, let's goooo !!!
A B
Edit suggestion: ice burg -> iceberg seniors approval -> senior's approval
Abobdulla TV
I mean I dont think anyone gonna mis ya
Alucard Hellsing
You lost me with this one. Good luck
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter! Seems like a big "loophole" in a contract enforced by a literal reality controlling cosmic Entity... But who knows maybe that guy will now have his soul devoured by Eldritch Gods in revenge I would have personally expected the typical "if you try to speak the contract will explode your face" enforcement, or like a compulsion to forcibly stop him from speaking/acting to reveal anything... But I guess it didn't matter as with Asha he was gonna get out there either way! I do not though understand the part about Scrap... Did Richard somehow send ALL of his access Creditcards to the Consortiums debt of several hundreds of million attribute points??? Thats seems strange why would he not keep them in his spacial rings? I mean the group didn't need them... And Richard didn't seem to expect the attack which would justify trying to get them some extra attributes... Maybe I'm just understanding what exactly is happening there correctly though... Is that maybe SRAPS personal fortune or something? But no the guy can't seriously own hundreds of Millions of attribute points he wouldn't be a crme lord with stats maxed out at 600 right?
