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Reign of Villainy | Ch. 37
🕑 Added 2024-01-20 16:11:31 +0000 UTCAs it turned out, the little village they had entered was called Bocobo. Akemi learned this fact from a mangled street sign; breaking from the ground like a bent nail, the sign stood between an inn and a couple of large farms: chicken farms, from the sound and the smell of them.
Watching as a rooster meandered around the open field, Akemi had a grand idea.
“I think this farm might be overdue for a little predator incident,” she said, leaning against the signpost. “You know, some old fashioned population control.”
Pyre, immediately catching on, gave her a stern, but unsurprised, look.
“Be serious. We’re in enough trouble already.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Akemi responded, squatting down to brush the fur atop Mutt’s head. The creature purred, snuggling into her hand. “I don’t intend on doing anything troublesome. But if this little fella decides to run loose while I’m taking him for a midnight walk…”
“Midnight? Do you seriously intend to stay here that long? We have to get back to the guild.”
Akemi shrugged. “Nocturne didn’t say anything about a due date.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Go on without me, it’s fine. Bamo here can take you back into town just fine, I’m sure.”
“I can?” Bamo huffed. “We haven’t even talked about payment yet.”
“Listen,” Akemi got up, and fixed him with a glare. “You drive Pyre back in town, then meet me here next morning, and I’ll have…”—she searched her mind for the tax collector’s new monthly salary, and then divided that number by four—“a hundred and fifty silvers waiting for you.”
It looked as if the boy’s eyes might jump out of his skull. He had clearly never seen that much money at one time in his life. Pyre was nearly as surprised, but she presented it a little differently: one singular raised eyebrow, a slight quiver in her jaw. Those were her tells. She was as transparent as a mirror if you just knew where to look.
“Really?” he said, voice breaking. “You’re not joking with me?”
“Nope,” she popped her lips. “Deadly serious. That’ll be your payment for the next two months. Serve me well, and we can even talk about raises.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Another crucial lesson from her grandfather: the importance of the hook. Sweeten the initial deal, fatten them up, and then squeeze them dry.
Back in his day, the man ran a very profitable business.
“Alright,” Bamo said, his knee already bobbing up and down in anxious excitement. “I won’t let you down, then. You can count on me.”
“Don’t act all respectful.” Akemi laughed, amused. “I saw just how ready you were to ditch me a few minutes ago. But good. Be here by ten tomorrow. I’ll be waiting by the horse stable.”
“I see you’re stuck on this.” Pyre observed with a shake of her head. “I guess it doesn’t matter if I turn up without you. Our mission is over. But if, for some god awful reason, Nocturne decides we have to do our next assignment together, I’ll contact you through the accomplice panel.”
She pressed a finger to Akemi’s chest, and it burnt a little bit, even through her clothes.
“Don’t you dare ignore my messages.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Akemi said, grinning wide and batting her eyelashes.
With a grumble, Pyre turned and started walking back towards the carriage. Bamo did an uninspired bow towards Akemi—probably a relic of chimeran tradition—and went bounding off towards his horses, leaving Akemi to her own devices.
She scooped Mutt up into her arms, and kept her eyes trained on the carriage as it bumbled along towards Grimguard. She didn’t dare move a muscle until it was completely out of sight, banished back into the woods.
“So, Mutt.” She turned to the creature and smirked. “You hungry?”
—
Akemi entered the Bocobo tavern to find a mirthling furiously scrubbing the floors. He had a frothing soap bucket beside him, and a sponge death-gripped in his right hand. The atrium was empty except for him and one other man: a bard, Akemi presumed, based on his foolish, brightly-colored costume, and the oversized lute strung over his shoulder.
With her companions dealt with, Akemi planned to take the rest of the day to rest, then chat with Kobe. She had roughly twelve hours to figure out how to deal with Nocturne, and she figured the goat could answer some of her burning questions.
“Welcome to the Brigwater,” the mirthling grunted, not looking up from the floor he was scouring. “Ten silvers for a night, or a week free if you can dispose of that menace in the corner.”
“Oh, come off it, old man,” the bard jeered, then turned to Akemi, holding a hand to the side of his mouth as if they were in a stage play. “Ignore him, he’s cranky. Frank’s new roosters are keeping him up all night.”
The mirthling scrubbed with increasing intensity, the sponge crying for help as it ran across the wood. “I’m this close to grabbing me a shovel and going over there myself.”
As Akemi closed the inn door and drew closer, their profiles bubbled up into her vision.
N’og | Level 21 Innkeeper
Rodacieus Brittlehome | Level 45 Battle-Bard
A surprised sound escaped her as the second profile displayed.
Level 45? How much singing does he even have to do to reach that kind of rank? Or does he just smash things to death with that massive lute of his? Seems like a versatile class.
She had been planning to pay for her stay the following morning, or, frankly, killing the owner and not having to give out any of her precious coin—but the more she eavesdropped on their conversation, the more it sounded like a many birds, one pika sort of situation.
“The animals next door giving you trouble?” she enquired casually. “I can relate. I tried setting up camp just outside the city last night, but I couldn’t get a wink of sleep with the endless cuckoo-ing. It was terrible.”
Persuasion Check (Easy)
Success!
N’og threw his sponge in the bucket, causing the water to splash chaotically onto the floor.
“I told you, Rod, it’s beyond a nuisance—it’s a curse on this town,” he grumbled, getting up from the floor and angrily marching his cleaning supplies back towards the cupboards. “I can hear it echoing in my skull still. And don’t you even try to reason with the man about it, ‘cause that rooster is his prized jewel. It’s a magical rooster, mind you. It can cast spells, and the like.”
Akemi studied her nails with disinterest. The more magical, the better. It just sounded like extra experience points. “What if I took care of it?”
Both N’og and Rod stilled, their eyes slowly drawing towards her.
“Took care of it? You don’t mean—”
“Oh ho ho,” Rodacieus slapped his knees and stood from the rocking chair he’d been sitting in. His ax-lute was even larger from this angle, a proper monster of an instrument. “N’og, this is why we like living near a bunch of villains. Villains, nay, problem solvers is a better name for them. The look on Frank’s face will be priceless.”
N’og’s face turned deadly serious.
“Nevermind Frank, what’s in it for you?” he said to her skeptically, crossing his arms. “That’s a mighty big rooster. A dangerous rooster, if Frank’s telling the truth. I can’t imagine you want to go about murdering it just for the selfless sake of it.”
“You’re right. It’s completely selfish. I was hoping to take a nap, actually,” she said, yawning. She strolled towards one of the rooms. The door was slightly ajar, so she pushed it open, revealing a concave bed that looked like it’d been hit with a boulder. Better than nothing. “This one’ll do just fine.”
After seeing that she had nothing else to add, N’og softened slightly, humming.
“And I won’t have to worry about no bird in the morning?”
“Not a single peep,” Akemi said, and winked.
N’og huffed. “Alright. Fine. Room’s yours.” He turned to Rod, and threw a sponge at him. “You’ve gotta earn your keep, though. Get scrubbing.”
Akemi closed the door tight, and the sound of their bickering mellowed to a low, monotonous hum. She made quick work of peeling off her sweat-drenched clothes, and fell into the already-made bed, sighing with relief. My own space. The pillow was like an oversized golf ball, and the sheets were paper thin, but after what she’d been through the past few days, her eyelids nearly fluttered closed on instinct. She was grossly exhausted.
But she didn’t have time for a nap just yet. Drowsily, she brought up her System, navigated to her accomplice panel, and issued a silent command.
Comments
JHD
She is a villain, she doesn't need an alarm clock!
jalapenochips
Nooooo, adopt the magic chicken instead! He can’t graduate from high school!
