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Chapter 65 — [Title Redacted]
🕑 Added 2024-10-07 10:08:02 +0000 UTCCompared to the ‘Backbone,’ the ‘Brain’ is much easier to build.
You wouldn’t believe how eager scientists, engineers, doctors, and the like are to work for me once they see the stuff I have in store—and no, not that ‘stuff.’
Honestly, I already have the funds to start producing my own medications and mass-produce cybernetics, but I want to keep the best for my people.
The rest of the ‘peasants’ can have the standard commercial versions.
Another issue is dealing with politicians and industry giants, who I’ll let continue their current operations for now.
It is not fear that’s deterring me…
I’m quite confident I could easily take out a few CEOs and their boards, but conquering through violence feels so fucking… Basic.
Any mustache-twirling villain with the right resources could pull that off in a year or two.
As for me, I want to outplay them at their own game—it’s an ego thing, I admit.
I want them seething with envy and frustration;
I want to see them slamming tables and doors when they realize I’ve outsmarted them all;
But more than anything, I want to relish the moment when they send all the intelligence agencies to my doorstep, only to discover that my position makes it impossible for them to kill or threaten me without jeopardizing their own lofty status.
Oh, how delighted I'll be then…
Daydreaming asides, the next and final company I need to establish, which will stretch my financial limits, is a scrap purchasing business.
Why, you ask?
Why bother with trash nobody cares for when there are… ‘Greener fields’ everywhere?
The answer can be summed up in one word: [Transfiguration].
While the Spell can completely rearrange molecules, it must still obey the fundamental Law of Equivalent Exchange.
Buying steel and wood in bulk would put a giant target on my back, but who would suspect anything when it’s just plastic scraps tainting the soil; dirtying the ocean; taking up space and generally being an eyesore?
Me stealing or buying up trash won’t raise any eyebrows, nor will it cause the cost of raw materials to shoot through the roof, which is what I’m most concerned about.
If anyone asks, I’ll just say I’m trying to do my part to save the planet by figuring out how to recycle trash.
Plus, landfills are unregulated for the most part, meaning I can get these materials for dimes and pennies…
Heck, they might even hand over their waste for free AND thank me for taking it.
It’s a foolproof plan with practically no downsides, only benefits!
Sometimes, even I’m horrified by my own genius… People say having such a high IQ is a blessing, when in truth it’s a curse! A curse, I say!
All jokes asides, “Home-sweet-home.”
The place smells nicer than it did when I left a week ago.
It doesn’t reek of bodily fluids and intercourse anymore at least.
“Lord Hangman, I—”
“Yes?”
Stella locks her fingers in front of her blouse, fidgeting nervously. “I just… I want to… It’s nothing.”
“Well, now I’m curious. Speak up—if it’s within my power, I’ll help.”
“I… I don’t want to go back to Castle Einzbern. It’s so cold and lifeless there.”
Fair description… As spacious and soulful as the architecture, you can’t pay me to live in an eternally frozen tundra.
“I wish to serve under you and see more of the world.”
“Consider it done.” It’s just a quick call to John, no biggie.
“That’s… That’s it? Just like that?”
“Yep, just like that. Come on, let’s see what they’ve been up to.”
Whatever depraved things Gil and her handmaidens got into seemed to stop around the second day, which was when the texts dried up.
To be fair, there are only so many bondage positions Lily could put them in.
It’s no harm… I didn't really expect them to keep it up for the whole week, anyway.
“Honey, I’m home!”
I announce as I fling the door open, spotting the three of them sitting in a circle.
With a grin, I add, “Just so you know, if you all are practicing witchcraft, I’m legally obligated to inform the Church.”
“Says the Mage.” Bailey chimes in.
“The proper term is: Magus.”
I correct with a playful groan as I drop into a seat. You don’t feel the stress while you’re working, but it’s definitely catching up with me now. Reaching out to so many strangers has left me absolutely drained.
“You look tired.” Gil notes.
Red meets green as a well-shaped form settles onto my lap.
“I am tired.” I admit.
My social battery was depleted fifteen meetings and three start-up companies ago, or so I thought.
“But not anymore.”
I wrap my arm around her slender waist, tilting my head while my other hand slowly runs through her golden locks.
“Naughty…” She purrs in my ear.
“Come to think of it, we’ve never truly made love, have we?”
“I’m pretty sure you two went way past ‘making love’ already,” The writer jokes, hiding her smile behind her knuckle. “We all did.”
“That was just, you know, fucking; rutting; whatever they call it these days. What I’m referring to is deeper—”
“Oh, it’s gonna go deeper, alright.”
Ignoring the innuendo, I murmur against her soft skin, savoring the scent of her shower gel and shampoo mingled with my own hormones, and continue breathlessly… “I’m talking about real love-making—candles; wine; smalltalk that neither of us really cares about over dinner and a warm, bubbly bath we can just soak in. What say you, your Majesty? Interested?”
“Oh, I could write this down: The sadist—”
Neither of us pays much attention to Lily’s endless ramble, for I’m too busy kissing her neck, and she’s too busy enjoying it.
“I- I never knew you were such a romantic?”
Gil moans softly in my ear, pulling me closer until I stop her with a gentle shush.
“Relax… Let’s have dinner first.”
“Din—Dinner’s overrated.”
Her breath catches twice as I tease her neck with my tongue, and she whines when I pull away.
“Come on, we haven’t had a proper dinner together in a while… I honestly kind of miss it. Besides, lately, all we’ve been doing is talking and fucking. Time for a change of activity, don’t you think?”
Puffing up her cheeks slightly—a gesture I never expected from Gil of all people—the Golden Queen crosses her arms.
“I suppose you’re right… I hear there’s a nice club just down the street.”
“A fancy club?”
“One fit for royalty…” She answers confidently.
“Get ready then. We’re heading out in two.”
I don’t need much time to get ready, but the same cannot be said for the girls—the handmaidens especially. “You three, shower and dress up. We’re partying tonight.”
“Me too?” Stella asks, pointing to herself in confusion.
“Duh! You wanted to see the world, right?” A nightclub is the furthest thing from ‘the world,’ but it’s a decent first step as long as she does not make it her go-to place.
Furthermore, while partying is definitely an universal language for human, I myself am quite curious to see the differences between a British nightclub and those in Southeast Asia. “Will you join us in the bath?”
“I’ll use the master bedroom shower.”
Knowing them, we’d end up spending the night in the bath instead.
Don’t get me wrong, we probably will, but not before we go out.
I’ve been in London for a month and a half now, and it’s just fucking embarrassing that I still don’t know where the nearest supermarket is.
Walking in the other direction, I freeze when I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Lily… Bad girl.”
“Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?” She stammers, ears turning crimson as she glances at the other girls who are watching the show, visibly amused. Only Stella looks rather quizzical.
“Did you lose a bet or something?” If it had been Gil, I’d easily believe it was her idea, but Lily’s the quintessential nerd.
She might be wild when horny, but she’s not the type to initiate with such a cheesy line.
“What’s with that lackluster response?!”
“You think I was born yesterday? Go take a bath!”
“… I bet if it were Gil or Bailey saying it, you’d respond differently.” The writer huffs.
What is this, ‘Sulking at Leo’ Day?
“No, I wouldn’t. Don’t be hoes, ladies!” I reply, waving them off halfheartedly, and barely suppress a chuckle after catching Bailey’s low mumble, “Might be too late for that.”
She’s right, though… Gil and I took two completely normal, God-fearing; Church-going girls and turned them into fucking succubi…
‘One—we’ve turned one to the dark side. If Lily goes to Church, I’ll eat my own shoes.’ The stray thought hits me like a ton of bricks as I walk into the master bedroom and slip on the comfy slippers meant just for bathroom use. After a quick, 5 minutes that would’ve peeled the skin off a normal human, I squeeze my hair dry as if it’s a piece of rag and meet Gil in the living room.
“They still not done?”
“You know how girls are. They’re probably straightening their hair and putting on makeup. The doll’s with them, getting ready too.”
Just as she finishes, a chorus of high-pitched screams echoes through the building. “Well, good to know they’re having fun. What about you?”
“You think I need makeup?” Gil raises an eyebrow at my question, crossing one leg over the other, a motion that highlights how toned her legs are.
It’s hard to fully appreciate her beauty when she’s on her back, or on her knees, or lying with her ass up and hands tied to her thighs with the Chains of Heaven, but the best way to describe her would be to combine the finest features of every Olympic long-jump champion into one devilishly sinful body that would tempt the purest of Angels to fall.
Not that I need to worry…
I was never an Angel to begin with, just a more evolved ape, and boy, do we hairless apes love to sin.
“How’s work?”
“I have set up multiple companies with my people installed at the top. I have also secured a pretty good deal for my gold on the black market.” I didn’t flood the market, of course.
That would drive the prices down too much. Fortunately, thanks to [Opulent Aura], the pure 24K gold made by [Transfiguration] and a tiny-teeny bit of good ol’ intimidation, I was able to get a pretty decent pay. I’m far from the richest, but well-off enough to comfortably fall within the top 1%.
“And I got dirt on some… Pretty interesting people.”
From generals and ministers to various famous celebrities—all British, yet with ties to France, the US, Poland, and, ironically enough, China. These contries have collaborated on a lot of… Unsavory srojects, ranging from biological warfare to cyber warfare capable of shutting down the entire network across the planet.
If this information were to be revealed, it could disrupt the political landscape for at least half a decade, and unlike those anonymous posts on 4chan, I have way more than just documents.
I have names and detailed biographies on these motherfuckers, along with incriminating VHS tapes capturing them with their pants down—literally, in some cases.
However, none of it will matter without a platform to advance my agenda, hence why I’m giving Eri the freedom to do as she pleases, as long as our talents get the spotlight.
If there’s one thing I know about the future, it’s that politicians will become utterly irrelevant.
People are more likely to trust a celebrity than a scientist or laywer, mainly due to what I call the ‘household effect.’
They may not know the scientist, but they certainly know the singer whose face is always on the newspaper, or plastered behind the milk carton.
Speaking of which, this is yet another issue I must address in my country.
While it’s fine to appreciate art, making celebrities the go-to authorities and allowing them to earn more than the guys working to cure cancer and HIV is unacceptable.
I refuse to have a society preoccupied with celebrity culture, and to prevent that, I must make science and knowledge valuable pursuits for people.
“Contemplating the future?”
“Something like that,” I reply with a hum, fingers tapping on the armchair.
“It’s not good to overworry. No plan survives contact with the enemy.”
“No poorly thought-out plan survives contact.” I counter.
While I can’t predict their every move, I can certainly anticipate the major ones, and that’s all I really need to succeed really.
Snacking on the refreshments Stella prepared earlier, we wait as the minutes slowly tick by.
Bored out of my mind, I decide to open the [Tree] and explore all the Upgrades and Perks at my fingertips.
Since my [Heat Meter] reset during my time on Cyberpunk Earth, I haven’t spent it on a new Perk yet.
The significant difference in strength between the Verses made it seem rather unnecessary at the time… I’ll admit, my interest in nearly every available Perk added to my hesitation also.
Thankfully, I’ve since narrowed down my options to—
[That Which Strikes True…]
Feeling frustrated with your attacks constantly getting blocked, deflected, or dodged? Worry no more with this new Perk!
> Effects:
>> Every attack you make will hit its target, even if blocked or dodged, although the damage will be reduced by 95% compared to if the hit hadn’t been deflected or blocked.
>> Compatible with all other Perks in the Branch.
>> Bypasses all Defenses and Resistances.
>>> WARNING: [That Which Strikes True…] won’t activate if your attack misses!
> Cost: 6AP -> 1,5AP (75% Reduction)
The brief encounter with Connor highlighted just how inadequate my [Spearsmanship] is and how… Neglectful I have been towards my very first [Gold] Branch.
On the flip side…
[National Animal!]
Every country needs a national animal—yours is no exception!
> Effects:
>> You can either choose an animal as your Familiar or receive one assigned to represent the National Animal.
>> This Familiar will be completely loyal to you, breaking all ties.
>> The [Influence] of the Familiar extends to those you regard as your citizens and spreads in a circular wave via statues, carvings, or any artistic depiction of the animal.
>> Chosen Familiar cannot die. Upon defeat, it’ll dissipate and reform after a period of 6 months.
> Cost: 6AP
The decision seems pretty clear: [National Animal] would be a perfect gift for my Kingdom which, unfortunately, does not exist—not yet anyways.
While yes, I do have a handful of scientists and nearly a hundred militia members under my command, that is not nearly enough to warrant the investment. What does is Caragor’s loyalty.
Though the Demon has been unexpectedly cooperative so far, I’ve not forgotten its origins.
On the other hand, [That Which Strikes True…] would greatly enhance my combat abilities.
“Decisions, decisions…” Caragor is fine for the moment, but I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. Despite my cordial relationships with most of the Great Lords, I have little doubt that many—both Aristocrats and Democrats alike—are fuming as we speak.
Then there are the Neutrals, who probably want nothing more than to dissect me and figure out just what exactly makes me tick.
‘Come to think of it, we never saw him after that, did we?’ More specifically, Geralt never encountered the Merchant of Glass again after saving Olgierd, which lowers him on my threat scale. The Magi, however, pose a more direct and immediate threat.
‘[That Which Strikes True…], it is.’
In an instant, the [Heat Meter] directly plummrts back to [Brown], while 1.5AP is taken away from the Main Column, which leaves me with 73.16AP to waste.
‘[Void Bridge (2)]…’
My eyes fix on the Perk and its outrageously high cost.
‘48 AP for a single trip? Talk about daylight robbery.’
It's not that I don’t understand why people get addicted to gambling—I completely get it.
That’s precisely why I’ve never allowed myself to gamble, which is essentially what [Void Bridge] is at its core. I was and am still willing to spend 24 AP, but 48? If I could cry blood, I would.
There’s no assurance that the next World will be as impressive or even beneficial to my cause. It could be ‘My Little Pony’ for all I know. ‘Gods, I hope not. I’d rather be in Warhammer 40K than that shithole.’
I’ve never watched it, and honestly, I neither need nor want to.
Yet, that damn panel—that blinking, hexagonal panel—seems to be screaming at me to press it.
There’s still another month before my [Heat] drops again and allows me to purchase the Perk.
Alternatively… ‘Come to think of it, I still have two more [Rapid Blessings], don’t I?’
In fact, I have just enough for the second [Bridge].
It’s only 72AP in total, no big deal—
‘No!’ Halting that train of thought, I let out a tired exhale, battling my own desire until it finally subsides as I exit the [Tree], where Gil’s cat-like eyes instantly lock onto me.
“You just did it again.”
“Did what again?”
“Change.” She draws out the word, crawling around the sofa and towards me. “Yet your consciousness remains the same… Strange. Such transformations are usually accompanied by changes in temperament. It never affects you though… How do you do it? What does it look and feel like for you?”
Just inches away, our heads whirl swiftly to the door as the handmaidens burst in, dressed in outfits I’ll admit I find more tempting to remove than admire.
Probably not the best thought to share aloud, right? ‘Saved by the bell yet again.’
“Geez… You two need a break.”
“Said the girl who tried to seduce me and failed.” I retort.
“… Remember that romance novel I was writing? Guess who’s no longer the inspiration for the male lead?”
“I’ve seen you on the sofa, the bed, the counter—your threat holds no weight to me, woman.”
Knowing Lily, I could probably fuck the attitude out of her tonight.
“Now let’s go. Our ride’s here.”
“That’s it? Not even a compliment?!”
“You’ll get it later, if you know what I mean.”
I’d be disappointed if she doesn’t.
"Wait, what about Her Majesty? Doesn't she need to get dressed?"
With a snap of her fingers, the [Gate of Babylon] adorns her in an extravagant, golden gown. Unlike her previous attire, this one shimmers with glitter—perfect for a nightclub where the most you’re going to see in a person is the outline of their body.
“Dude… That’s so fluffin’ cool! Can you do that too? Is that why guys get ready quicker?!”
“Yes, Lily. All guys can magically conjure a suit and fix their hair on command.”
“Showtime.” With her arm linked in mine, I help Gil in the limo while the handmaidens join us.
“Where to?”
“Fanciest nightclub you know.”
Handing a wad of cash to the driver, I gives him a wink; free hand running up Gil's smooth thigh.
"This is to make sure we're not disturbed."
"You got it, boss."
The driver replies with a wink of his own, raising the black partition to give us some privacy in the passenger seats.
"Now... Who wants these?" I ask, dropping some pink, remote-controlled vibrators onto the seat beside me. "Up their vajayjay?"
It's a good day...
Then again, every day's a good day to be, well, me.
• Title: [That Which Strikes True...]
Comments
Ano Nymous
Bruh😅 it's up a millisecond ago
Hoang Nguyen Bui
Your back!
