Chaotic Clusterfuck 26 (Patreon)

Commissioned by Definitely Not Dio

Chaotic Clusterfuck

Chapter 26

-VB-

The Protectorate tried again.

This time, they brought a lawsuit. 

I stared at the lawyer who stood outside my house, and the woman gulped as she tried her best to not look down at my sweating, bare chest. She was a little younger than Zoe, though not as cute as Emma and Anne or as beautiful as Zoe. 

But maybe that’s just my high standards talking about banging too many beautiful gingers. 

I just hoped that I wouldn’t be the one to fuck up that particular genepool. 

I took the thick manila envelope and looked at it. 

“You know what this is about?” I asked her as I casually opened it and looked at the front page. 

“I am aware.”

“Then you are also aware that there are numerous laws protecting salvage rights and no such laws against xeno tech, yes?” 

She mouthed the words xeno tech before she understood what I meant. “The lawsuit is about the aggravated assault on officers -.”

I raised an eyebrow. 

“They didn’t show you the camera footage?”

She blinked. “What camera footage?”

I rolled my eyes. “Typical. They don’t even show their own lawyers the full picture. Come in. Let me show you my firm’s security footage of what happened.” I paused. “Oh, and shoes are off in this house.”

She hesitated before stepping in. And taking the shoes off. 

I walked over to the living room where a big screen TV was, and turned it on. I heard her walking into the living room behind me. 

“Take a seat at the couch if you want,” I said without looking at her as I used gestures, and not remote, to get the TV to access the files. “So how long did they give you to prepare this lawsuit? The incident only happened yesterday.”

“... I have no obligation to share that detail,” she replied professionally, but she still sat down on my sofa. Fair. I did offer. 

Moments later, I reached the internet-accessible database where I had stored a copy of the video. And … it wasn’t there.

I whistled. “Damn, the Protectorate got Dragon to erase one of my video copies? That’s sus.”

The reaction from the lawyer was one of confusion. 

Which made sense. 

If this was really the Protectorate themselves going all cloak and dagger on me, then they also wouldn’t tell their lawyer about the existence of the cameras and potential videos. 

“Good thing I have more copies,” I said as I disconnected the house from the internet with another gesture. The gesture was for the lawyer to see, because really, it was one of my clones disconnecting the house’s internet manually by turning off the mansion’s primary wi-fi node. Then I walked over to one of the drawers underneath the TV and pulled out a USB stick. I stuck it in the TV, and accessed the copy that way. 

The video came on and I walked over to a couch that the lawyer wasn’t sitting on and sat down myself. The video played, directly showing both me and Battery in clear view. There was also audio, though the quality wasn’t great. 

She watched the video without even blinking… and then Battery lunged in the video. 

The video continued on with how my clones, disguised as hired parahumans, subdued the Protectorate “heroes” when they went on the offensive. 

The video came to an end, and the lawyer looked … upset. 

“Thank you for showing me. This puts a new light on thie case.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied. “Do you want this back or …?” I asked her as I waved the envelope. 

“... I probably should. Would you be kind enough to forget that I tried to service a lawsuit on behalf of the PRT?”

“You mean the lawsuit that will get some serious side eye from the judge when this - and other videos that I intend to release to public - get shown?”

“Yes.”

“... Sure.”

She looked surprised. “... Really?”

“Yup. No catch. It’ll take you and your coworkers some time to draft up a different lawsuit anyway.”

I let her go… because even if this made me look suspicious, I didn’t care. 

After she left and I pulled the USB stick out from the TV’s USB 3 port, my clone reconnected the internet. That same clone then got to work publishing copies of the video stored in another computer and I pulled out my phone and called someone whose phone number I got from the mayor. 

“... Hello, this is Alan Marris speaking. This is the office of the respected Uppercrust, yes? … Oh, you’re already aware of who I am! That’s an honor. Oh, hold? Sure.” There was a pause … before I got to talk with the man himself. “Greetings, Uppercrust. Are you interested in hosting an auction for one point six kilograms of element zero I’ve salvaged from Batarian shuttles and weapons?”

-VB-

The video went viral. 

Battery became a laughingstock, if not the target for concentrated distrust of the government and the police. 

People across multiple platforms and news outlets were screaming up and down on either side, and while I did get a lot of mentions, my refusal to give an interview … was counted against me? 

Whatever.

As for why I didn’t give an interview, I didn’t want my face to become even more known. The bigger I grew in the public’s eyes, the bigger the problems would start to become. After all, the less I was visible, the more time and money any would-be enemies would have to spend to learn about me. 

I didn’t care about public respect or likeability. I was here to bang beautiful bitches and bang big bucks. 

However, dismissing the public would be detrimental to me if not outright fatal. The PRT and the Protectorate were beholden to the people, and right now, they were being pissed on due to Battery’s action. Sure, the lack of an interview from me regarding the incident was hurting me a little, but it was nowhere close to what the PRT was suffering. But if I started pulling a Musk without his kind of history and backing, which I didn’t quite have, the PRT and the Protectorate would have a growing public approval to dig into me. And considering that the government turned an inch into a foot, that might mean a raid if they discovered any illegal activities.

And with Watchdog, that was a guarantee, not a chance. 

So what was my plan from this point on? 

Well, I already contacted the Elite, the most trustworthy parahuman organization - for a given definition of trustworthy for a confederation style cape organization - when it came to profit. On top of that, I contacted the one leader among them who was respected by all sides.

And Uppercrust was more than happy to host an auction for the sale of one and a half kilograms of eezo. Provided that he got his cut from being the host, of course. We agreed on him taking eight percent of the proceedings. He also bought my lie that I was selling everything I had because “I didn’t want the trouble of keeping any.” My encounter with the PRT only seemed to solidify my story. 

So now, I found myself planning a visit to Uppercrust with aforementioned quantity of eezo.

But I would be an idiot if I just waltzed over there without scouting.

So part 1 of that planning? 

I sent the ajins over to Boston first.