The Gamer Chapter 1646 – Bachelor’s Night 5 – On the Swaying Path (Patreon)

“Would,” Maximillian said.

“Really?” John asked.

“You wouldn’t?”

“Never been one for nose rings…”

The duo was looking over the railing that separated their private area from the dance floor. Beer in hand, they were checking out the various women down below. Neither of them had the opportunity to make something of it, but sometimes it was just fun to play the game of potentials.

“Really, of all the things that you ignore, you can’t ignore nose rings?” Maximillian asked.

John shrugged. “Not big on piercings in general. Jane used to have this tongue piercing, and that was kind of cute, but I do prefer her without it.”

Humming, Maximillian took another sip of his beer. “What about you, Magnus?”

The oldest of the three had tuned out of the conversation for the time being and just stared up at the ceiling. When John had watched this happen the first few times, it had struck him as odd. Once he had worked out that this was Magnus’ version of checking his phone, it wasn’t weird anymore. The man was happy with his own thoughts. No external stimuli were needed to keep him occupied.

After a ponderous pause and a sip of his pint, the Fateweaver answered, “Personally, can’t stand tattoos or piercings.”

“I’ll drink to that,” John said and did. He drank deeply and greedily, gulping down the rest of the pint in three seconds. All he had to do was turn to the right and raise the empty glass in the general direction of the pretty waitress that had been assigned to them. She nodded, then went to get him a refill.

“You two have no sense of adventure… I say, despite agreeing.”

“Yet you said ‘would’.”

“Yeah, I would sleep with her, but she doesn’t look like wife material. She’s made out with three different dudes since we started this conversation. Makes her almost as slutty as Nathalia.”

“Careful,” John warned his best friend.

“What? It’s true.”

“Was true,” John pushed back. “I get that a woman that’s been sleeping around for ten millennia isn’t traditional partner material, but she’s mine now – so, careful.”

Maximillian did not push back. “What’s your beef with tattoos though? Like a third of your girls have some variety of tattoo or tattoo-esque marks.”

“I think none of those are genuine tattoos,” John said and tried to recall. A new beer was practically placed in his hand and he immediately took a sip. He was reaching the end of buzzed and the beginning of drunk. His thoughts were starting to slur. “Nope.”

Rolled eyes accompanied the king’s response. “I’m pointing at the moon and you’re looking at my finger.”

“Well, if they were tattoos, I wouldn’t mind them either,” John said. “I like the symmetrical patterns and such. I don’t like it when women just plaster themselves in all kinds of different symbols. Looks disjointed.”

“We’re talking about women again,” Magnus pointed out.

“Can you blame us?” Maximillian asked and walked back to the couch that wrapped around the low table. Both pieces of furniture were way too large for just three people. “We could talk about tattoos on men instead.”

“Same opinion, I just don’t care to see them naked,” John made his opinion known.

He was ignored.

“We should catch up,” Magnus suggested. “We haven’t seen much of you, Max. Anything going on besides the wedding?”

John also returned to the couch now, plopping down just as the gravity king began to speak. “Nothing much to talk about. Butting heads with Lydia and Lord Africanus in equal measure.”

“Is he still part of the opposition faction?”

The king nodded and sighed. “He had the decency to retreat for a few months. The public humiliation made them all step away, but eventually they reorganized. Africanus continues to be their battering ram, so to speak. As a friend of Lydia’s and a technical member of the opposition, I have to balance the interests of both sides.”

“This does interest me, can you name a reform that you staunchly disagree with?”

“The streamlining of the various layers of rights that we acquired.”

“Really?” John had to raise an eyebrow. “You’re in favour of that archaic structure?”

“I’m in favour of negotiating levels of power,” Maximillian responded. “A vassal that is doing well under their current circumstances does not require their contract adjusted. A more able vassal can acquire more power, a less able vassal will have autonomy stripped away. Layers and positions of honour, be it castle rights or workshop rights, can be bestowed in measure of a subject’s abilities. Generalized rights apply to all equally, when we are all so deeply unequal.” He tasted his drink. “Beyond that, it’s just deeply disrespectful to our history. I understand the need to clean house somewhat, yes, but to throw the entire system out is unwise.”

“Equality under the law is the foundation of the modern state,” John suggested.

“And how is that working out for everyone?” Maximillian asked.

“Pretty well?”

The amused, deriding hum Maximillian produced made the entirety of his opinion on that known without a single word spoken. A huge gulp of beer later, he formulated an actual answer. “Equality under the law is a product of an impersonal system. It’s necessary only where you have bureaucrats that never see their subjects lord over the peasantry. Where kings and nobles rule, where barons are the law over their local villages, people will be judged by the measurement of what they deserve, not what a framework of papers suggest.”

“Like hanging for stealing a loaf of bread?”

“If the locality decides it so.” Maximillian shrugged. “Are you telling me you can’t think of a time where draconian measures are justified?”

The Gamer let out a long sigh. Of course he could. Throughout history, law enforcement had gone through periods where punishments for the most minor of transgressions was immense, only so the major transgressions were ripped out at the root. People respected the sanctity of an intact and clean building, even if no one lived in it, but once it started to accumulate dirt, it only took a single shattered window for that respect to be gone. This effect had been well observed.

“Are you telling me injustice has not been delivered in your unequal systems?” he asked in return. “That there are no robber barons or lords that are cruel for the sake of it?”

“Happened much less frequently than you make it sound,” Maximillian answered. “More importantly, your pretension at equality typically leads to nothing. The law is like a spider’s web – the fly gets caught and the wasp goes free.”

“It’s an ideal to strive towards.”

“We call unfulfillable ideals pretensions where I am from.”

John just hummed, the two men raised their glasses and drank. Magnus followed their example. The entire talk had been had in a calm, serious tone. “I’ll give you this one,” the Gamer stated.

“Finally surrendering to the superiority of the monarchy?” the gravity king asked. “You’d halve Lydia’s opposition tomorrow if you did so.”

“No, I can just admit that there’s arguments to be had that a monarchy produces the best results, especially in the Abyss.” John put one foot on the edge of the table and leaned back. “I can also admit that you rhetorically outmanoeuvred me there. I’d return that if all can be equal under the monarch, an aristocracy is not necessary.”

“Ah, but it is inevitable.”

“Shush, buddy.” John shook his head. “What I was getting to: equality under the law has produced the most prosperous societies in world history. You can make your arguments that it is a fluke because of technology or that it is best to transfer back to monarchy now that the wealth has been generated, that’s all well and good, but I won’t be convinced, half drunk in a club, to the beats of Rootkit.”

The drop kicked in at that exact second. Down below, the party went into a frenzy. People bounced while flickering lights made everything appear like it was in a low framerate.

“That is fair enough,” Maximillian said. “What do you think, Magnus?”

“I don’t particularly care how people rule, only who rules,” the Fateweaver answered. “Hardly matters what form the elite takes. If they’re corrupt, they’re corrupt. That’s about it.”

“You have the Hailey stance of politics then.”

“Hailey was your country girl, right?” Maximillian asked and received a side glance. “Don’t look at me like that, I’ve met her like twice and I’ve been very busy in that time.”

“That’s fair enough,” John admitted. “We really haven’t had a lot of time to hang out recently, have we?”

“Don’t expect that to change soon.”

“Right, we sort of touched on the topic earlier.” Magnus put down his now empty glass and switched to water. “Do you have an heir on the way?”

“When did we touch on that?” Maximillian asked.

“You said your taste had shifted into making MILFs.”

“Hah! Right, I did say that.” Maximillian downed the rest of his glass just in time for the waitress to take it with her after she had brought Magnus his new one. “Irielz is not pregnant yet, no. We’re not really trying yet, but we are doing the deed without protection.”

“Trying to outdo me on all fronts, are you?” John mumbled in his glass.

“There’s nothing keeping you from pumping a child into Eliana tonight.”

“Or Lorelei, or Lydia, or, if I feel really daring, I could go to Lulu…” He went rigid the second after that had slipped out of his mouth. He glanced first left, then right.

“No…. noooooo,” Maximillian leaned back. “You did not! You are not!”

“Shhhhhh…!” John insisted. This was not something he should have said, especially not in a place like this. As much as his growing drunkenness allowed him to, he glanced around the room for any scrying enchantments. He found none. “I’ll tell you more later.”

Magnus was just pinching the bridge of his nose. “My ruler is insatiable.”

“Come on, that is hardly news!”

“There are layers of decadence.”

“It’s not decadence, it’s debauchery, thank you very much.” John was getting a little hot under the collar, primarily because he had slipped up. “Fucking alcohol,” he groaned, then took another huge gulp. “If you want me to spill the beans, we’ll have to go somewhere more private. Not!” He turned to Maximillian. “Not a strip club.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a Little Whirl in town…”

“We can go there later then,” John waved off. “Or first.”

“Alright then, let’s finish these and then relocate.”

“Why did we even go in here?” Magnus asked. “None of us ever went to the dance floor.”

“For the atmosphere, my man! Do you have no sense of party aesthetics? No, stop, do not finish that thought.” A hand was raised in halt before the Fateweaver could answer. “You’re about to say something as stupid as ‘the true party is when I use power tools to fashion a new hanging closet for the kitchen’.”

“I did make one of those last week,” Magnus reported proudly.

“You’re the stereotype of the stern worker.”

“Thank you – yes, I know you did not mean it as a compliment.”

They chatted away about nothing in particular while making their way down through their glasses. Magnus brought the topic back around. “Nothing else about what recently happened that you want to talk about?” he asked Maximillian.

The king swirled beer around in his mouth as he thought. “Horrible mistake,” he said with an overplayed retch, after he had gulped it down. Then he considered it some more. “I don’t think so. This wedding really has been the sole focus of my last couple of months.” He emptied the rest of his glass. “Enough about me and the bragger, though, what about you, Magnus?”

“Just working.”

“Yeah, I figured that, but there has to be something outside of that, right?” Maximillian teased.

“Not really.” Magnus picked up several items on the table and made sure they were properly aligned with the edge of the surface. “I live to work. I don’t do much else.”

“That’s such a sad outlook on life,” Maximillian lamented.

“Is it?” John asked. “I kind of agree with that. If I worked to live, I wouldn’t be doing 90% of what I do.”

“How about ‘I live to leave a legacy’?” the king suggested.

“Now we are just disagreeing about the definition of ‘work’. I’d say building a legacy is work.”

“Yes, but a legacy can also be built by spending time with your children in an amusement park, creating eternal memories for them,” Maximillian countered. To that, John could only nod. “You are not at the top of your rhetorical game tonight, buddy.”

“Maybe I’m letting you have the easy wins as my wedding gift to you.”

“Cheapskate,” Maximillian joked.

“Well, why wouldn’t I be cheap? You don’t ask me how I am doing.”

“I don’t need to ask you how you’re doing, it’s all over the news.” Maximillian rolled his eyes. He fell against the backrest of the couch, bounced twice, then tilted his head. “Do tell me, then, anything else that’s recently going on in your life?”

“I have a serious issue with my harem getting too large.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Maximillian said drily. “In other news, the sky is blue.”

“No, I mean actually serious,” John insisted and let out a long sigh. “I just… really don’t know when to stop. Jane and the other girls have given me a hard limit of thirty, but that’s still 6 girls away.”

Both of the other men did the quick mental math. “With the mystery addition, you’re at 23, right?”

“Yeah, but Aclysia and Claire have something planned and I am 90% sure it’s a stalker they want to hook me up with.”

“…Okay, never mind, there actually is something you can talk about that’s not in the news.” Maximillian leaned forwards, his forehead in wrinkles, his lips spread in a smile. “Elaborate.”

“Right, so some time ago Claire and then Aclysia started to behave pretty shiftily about some stuff and… well, to skip all of the context clues, it seems they’ve been letting someone into the Palace semi-frequently.”

“And you just let that happen?” Magnus asked.

“Come on, it’s Claire and Aclysia,” the Gamer answered. “I’m also pretty sure Lorelei is involved.” He downed the rest of his beer. “I’d sooner experience the heat death of the universe than those three teaming up to do something malicious to me. Although I will give them a serious talking to if or when it turns out that I was right. There is such a thing as privacy.”

“I think you’re missing the essence of the question: you’re just fine with some of your girls setting you up with a stalker? A stalker?” Maximillian repeated that last part for emphasis.

John was drunk enough that the next sentence crossed his lips with complete sincerity. “If she’s hot and dangerous enough.”

Magnus slammed his palm on his face. Maximillian shook his head. “You have issues, buddy. I get it, fill the hole of your non-existent adolescent social life with all the harem girls you could ever dream of. All well and good, but you’ve long transcended even the realm of ludicrous and are entering the domain of Greek tragedy. Never go Greek tragedy.”

“Yeah… Yeah…“ John sighed.

“You’re still going to meet that stalker eventually, aren’t you?”

John avoided answering by looking at the oldest of the trio. “All good there, Magnus?”

The Fateweaver had not taken his hand off his face and now tilted his head backwards. “Paper towels!” he requested loudly, his voice stuffy from his held nose. “I just smacked my face hard enough to give myself a nosebleed.”

Maximillian almost died from laughter.