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HC: Pacifist | Ch. 244 - Inflation
🕑 Added 2024-03-25 17:29:47 +0000 UTCSpiderHands browsed the Greensburg auction house with a frown. He had just finished a rare quest and obtained a treasure chest, which he sold for a hefty sum. He had come here today to use that money to buy some stat-boosting consumables as an incentive for his best guild players, but everything was much more expensive than he remembered.
“[Gold Acorn] at 34 gold each? That’s triple the price it was a few days ago? [100-Year-Old Ginseng Root] at 4300 gold? What? How is this possible?!” he complained loudly, drawing the looks of nearby players.
“Isn’t that SpiderHands? The Spiders are rich! Look at that! He talks about gold as if it were coppers!”
“Man, I wish I had passed their trials. Then I could have been rich, too. Oh well, let’s just go. We have everything we need to finish the quest.”
Hearing such comments would normally have made SpiderHands’ day—not today. He hadn’t exclaimed loudly to flaunt his guild’s wealth. He really was shocked! These items were highly sought after, but their price remained fairly stable. What in the world had happened to make them so expensive? He decided to touch base with his cousin, who ran a guild in Mt. Pyro, a city in the Fire Pits.
“Hey, Jamie. Stat-boosters in Greensburg have gotten crazy expensive. What’s the price like in your city?”
He patiently waited for a response. He could see his cousin was online, and he usually responded quickly. He used the time to look at other stat-boosting consumables, but the prices had all doubled or tripled wherever he looked.
“Hi, Spidy. Yeah, it's the same here. Some guild has been picking them up clean. No one knows who, though.”
“Thanks,” he messaged back.
He sighed, disappointed. These were just too expensive right now. He decided to look for computer chips instead. They were a rare commodity, and he knew that his main tank was looking for one chip that boosted knockback resistance for his shield.
“Uh?” Why were the chips so expensive, too?!
*
Loki studied the charts on his screen while ignoring the sounds of the nearby battle. The party of four funneling XP into his character was running a five-man dungeon without his help. They could handle themselves. That’s what he paid them to do. His time was far too precious to grind levels.
In one window, he ran through the reports Anak’s intelligence team had gathered on Zin’s crew. They had finally announced the name of their guild. They had decided to call it the Usurpers—a suitable name based on how Zin had started it.
As Loki feared, several people he had presumed dead were working for Zin. When he thought of all the unsavory characters he had Zin execute over the years and how they had been silently gathering their strength, he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. Here was a group of people united in their hatred of him. They were dangerous enough that Loki had wanted them gone. And now, all of them were back.
In another window, he monitored the bounties. For every Usurper his assassins and mercenaries killed, he paid 100 gold. He had even put a bounty of 100k gold on Zin. He had a similar bounty system in place for Union players.
After digging around, he discovered that the Union Collective was associated with the Slayer. VIP seats in the organization, a guide about Antioch, and the opportunity to come to hunt him down had all been part of the package that had swayed the Ogres to offer him and his family sanctuary.
He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. The thought that the Slayer had been bold enough to use the opportunity to hunt him as a bargaining chip infuriated him. That violent monster had no conscience. Loki refused to sleep outside of the game, at least for now. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was that giant brute knitting to mock him.
On the one hand, gathering this information so easily from one of the top guilds told him they didn’t like the Slayer’s growth. They must have leaked the information on purpose. That was fine by him. He would use every bit of ammunition he could get his hands on.
Since the Slayer’s whereabouts were unknown, and since his body was safely ensconced in the Ogres’ compound, he had decided to strike at the organization associated with him. He set up several bounties for his assassins and hired mercs. Ten gold for any unionized worker, 100 gold if they were part of the management, and 1000 gold if they were famous craftsmen from the top guilds. The tally of kills had already passed 200. They had gotten two of the management members and nine of the top craftsmen in the top guilds.
Loki read the post that management had just posted with interest. Even though he didn’t have access to the Union forums, thanks to his moles, he kept tabs on their every announcement.
Pegasus Hunting Union Members
#union #unioncollective #pegasus #assassination
Poster: UnionSergeantSarg
Post: Greetings, dear craftsmen,
As you might have noticed, or as you might have unfortunately experienced it, Union members are being targeted by Pegasus’ assassins. Although many who have died are guildless, some of the victims belong to top guilds.
For now, we recommend that no players come alone to the Union headquarters since most reported assassinations occurred in the commute between the north gate and the tent. We suggest that you stay safe in Hilsford’s Crafting District. Avoid traveling alone and stick to crowded places.
This is petty revenge for having banned Pegasus from placing orders or unionizing its craftsmen.
Union Management will not sit idly while our peaceful organization is attacked. Therefore, we want to announce to all top guilds that there is a new way of getting a VIP seat for one of your craftsmen.
We're willing to offer one VIP seat for every guild that successfully kills 100 Pegasus players. Alternatively, some Unionized workforce have volunteered to accept Pegasus’ kills as currency. All you have to do is bring the materials and place an order with us. Instead of paying our artisans with gold, you can submit proof of killing Pegasus’ players, and our unionized members will weigh the fee.
Additionally, all known allies and associates of Pegasus are temporarily banned from the Union until Pegasus ends this madness. See the list of banned organizations attached to this message.
Stay safe,
Union Management
Comments
Rhapsody: Argh. This is why I hate guilds—all these petty squabbles. Pegasus, just let us craft in peace. I'm at these coordinates if you want to get me so bad. I’ll be happy to sew you to a wall.
JasonBlackSmith: Is this true? Did they also get players from the top guilds?
OgresGodsfried: It’s true. They killed me one time.
OgresGalatheel: They tried attacking me, too. I fended them off, though.
TradeMan: That’s why I don’t join guilds. I hate their underhanded moves. How can I help?
Re:TradeMan: UnionH: Hi, TradeMan. Can I sign you up as a volunteer to craft in exchange for Pegasus takedowns?
Re:TradeMan: UnionH: TradeMan: Sure thing, H. Sign me up.
GorgonsLeanne: Sign me up, too.
He had to admit that this Union Management was somewhat competent. They took the initiative to publicize the attacks before Loki could use the propaganda he prepared to hit the Union’s morale. They had also tried to bring the other top guilds to their side by publicizing the deaths of their cherished artisans.
Furthermore, they banned all Pegasus’ allies and associates to put more pressure on Loki. Finally, they immediately launched a proxy counterattack, offering whatever benefits they could in return for damaging Pegasus.
“Interesting,” he said, grinning. “Let’s see how many deaths these craftsmen need before they abandon your Union, Slayer.”
He asked his intelligence to make a statement on Pegasus’ official website denying all of the Union’s wild claims. At the same time, he increased the bounties to increase the pressure on this organization. He was happy to oblige them if they wanted to fight a proxy war with wealth.
After the Rise of the Hive King event, despite all his losses, he wasn’t short on one thing: Gold. He had millions of it piled up in the bank. He couldn’t convert it to in-real-life currency all at once. That would backfire. Exchanging so much gold would depreciate his own money. He had steadily and slowly converted a significant amount daily, careful not to deflate his fortune.
Much of the IRL money had been used to purchase stock in other guilds, and he took over the Genies, the Street Rats, and the Penitents, guilds #43, #24, and #19 in the ranks. This bolstered his guild’s power and helped him recover somewhat from his heavy losses on the day he was hunted.
With the millions of gold in the game, he had made millionaire offers to poach talented players willing to betray their guilds. He had also invested in items that would gain value so that he could resell them at a higher price later. He had restocked his guild’s armory and bought whatever stat-boosting consumables he could get his hands on. Even so, he still had more money than he knew what to do with.
He turned toward the empty spot among all the other system windows. Once upon a time, he would have kept his character sheet open in that spot. He had enjoyed looking at his growing stats and incredible collection of titles. But not anymore. He couldn’t look at his attributes without thinking of all the precious consumables stolen from his vault. He had purchased what was available in the market, but any respectable guild would buy those when possible. The consumables that had been stolen from him weren’t for sale. They were priceless.
He was level 35 again and had recovered many of his precious titles. However, every success paled in comparison with what he could have had. He could have become the player with the best stats in the game. His breathing and heartbeat quickened, and he clenched his fists to regain control. He couldn’t let his hatred toward the Slayer and Zin cloud his judgment. That’s how they had gotten him last time.
Level up!
As the other players in the party finished carrying him to level 36 and he reached his leveling goals for the day, he summoned his mount, a giant hyena, and rode back to the capital. Even if his guild wasn’t the strongest, they were the wealthiest, and it was time to proceed with the next phase of his plan. It was finally time to purchase real estate.
*
Drake paced back and forth while waiting for his name to be called. As his footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, he read all the messages from Sergeant Jazzinald, but he couldn’t leave this quest in the middle. It was good that he had seen this coming and had started this quest before. Thanks to it, if things went well, Loki would soon regret messing with his Union.
“The magistrate will see you now,” the soldier offered.
Drake stood a little straighter. He had never met a magister before. He knew such an NPC had given Roth his unique class, but he couldn’t be sure if this would be the same one. He followed after the soldier, who directed him toward a set of double mahogany doors.
“Come in,” he heard from across the door. It was a calm contralto, neither too loud, nor too quiet. Drake’s body opened the door and moved toward the voice before he could do anything. It was as if he had just become a hopeless puppet. The robed, thin, blonde woman who studied Drake from behind her desk was freakishly tall, even taller than Roth. She could look at Drake at eye level even though he was standing and she was sitting down.
The large chamber was filled with shelves, tomes, and books. Flags fluttered gently as if dancing in the breeze, even though they were indoors and no windows were open. Drake grinned. “Magister Mildred, I presume.”
The magistrate’s brow raised. “You know who I am, but I’m sure we haven’t met before,” she said with a tone of certainty.
“We have a mutual friend. However, that’s not what brought me here.”
“I know,” she said as she stood up, letting the immensity of her height and presence command the room. “You want to discuss the renewal project.”
Drake grabbed a ledger from his inventory. It was given to him by the boss of the Raviolis. He had taken it out of the Gazpacho’s boss’ dead hands. Hopefully, it would be enough to gain favor with the magistrate. Before he could hand the book to the magistrate, the tome was already flying toward her, lifted by her telekinetic powers.
“What is this?” she asked as she leafed through the ledger.
“Proof.”
“Of what?”
“That the Gazpachos have infiltrated the Renewal Project.”
She kept leafing through the ledger, only taking a second on every page. In a matter of a few silent minutes, she was done. “Interesting ledger.”
Drake gulped. She hadn’t just been skimming through the ledger—she had read the whole thing. What a fast reader!
“These crime families keep finding ways to stick their paws into the city’s money,” she regretted. “I can’t believe we were about to give them control of the shield generator!” After a few silent moments, she turned to Drake and smiled amicably. “You’ve done great service in this city. How can we repay you?”
“I’m sure that after this sad news, you are short of workers. I believe we can help each other.”
Ch. 245 - Leather Helmet Production Line
