The Gamer Chapter 721 – Getting new toys (Patreon)

John closed the door of the car behind himself and stretched. His driving instructor gestured towards the door of his business, and they both got inside. He was a middle-aged man called Hank, with dark hair and on the chubby side of things. Once his business with him was concluded, the Gamer would probably forget about him in a few weeks.

“Alright, that was number 3 in as many days,” Hank said, once he was sitting at his computer. Waiting across the table, John just nodded. After about two minutes, a piece of paper was given to him. “That’s your interim license. You know the drill already; the real card will arrive in the mail in about two to three weeks.”

The Gamer took the paper with a bored movement. As Hank said, this was the third test he passed in the last three days. Reason for these repeated tests being that he had to prove he could drive different types of vehicles.

‘Hurray for the efficiency of bureaucracy,’ John thought, unable to decipher how he could get a bank card in three days but a driver’s license took two weeks. One would think that getting a money-holding account established would take longer than creating a plastic card for an already passed test. Making sure there were proper anti-forgery measures in place could only cause that much extra wait time. “Thank you,” he just said, taking the paper. At least there were workarounds. “So that allows me to drive most things, yes?”

“You got a B-Class, so you can drive a bus if you wanted to.” Hank stopped the typing for a moment to look at John. “You were the guy that wanted one of those specifically, right?”

“Yes.” The Gamer nodded. Since, apparently, the standard license only covered vehicles up to 26’000 pounds, John had decided to knock out several classes at once so he was on the safe side of things. From looking around, busses were often quite a bit heavier than that. Plus, and this reasoning he understood a bit better than that arbitrary weight limit, buses had a different shape, so they behaved differently in how they were handled.

Truthfully, he would have gotten an A-class immediately as well, but this was where his young age came in. Apparently, one had to be 21 to drive truck-trailers. Also, to drive interstate commerce and operate school buses. John found all of these things to be incredibly arbitrary, but that’s how it was. With the B-Class license, he was supposedly able to drive A-Class RVs without a problem, which was its own sack of confusion.

As he didn’t want to re-outfit something the size of a commercial truck, the A-Class license was unnecessary anyway. He would have just liked to get it while he was at it. He didn’t really need the C-Class either, that one allowed him to drive vehicles that were primarily farming equipment, but he had gotten all of those knocked out anyway.

The actual tests had been rather easy. Written exams were a joke for him. When it came to the actual driving, his life experiences up to that point came in rather handy. Aside from having already steered several kinds of waterborne vehicles, John had also been using Possession for a year. While neither directly translated to car driving, they had trained his mind to easily get used to different movement rules. That and years of video games. Driving wasn’t so different from games. Some buttons were pushed and things happened.

It was a rather dull game with minimal input, but it still helped John to think of it like that.

“Well, hope you have fun with that bus then,” Hank continued. “What are you anyway, some sort of millionaire’s kid?”

“Self-made, actually,” John said, knocking on the table as he got up. He had no interest in small-talking his day away here, as friendly a guy as Hank was. “I’ll probably come back in two years to get that last license.”

“Sure thing, was a pleasure teaching you.” Hank just raised his hand in a simple goodbye wave, then they parted ways.

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“Success,” Aclysia reported with a smile, holding up her own stack of interim licenses with a hint of pleased pride.

“Success,” Beatrice echoed, her face as still as usual. There was no emotion displayed on her face or in her body language. The entire procedure had been mere form for her.

When he started head patting both of them, even Beatrice started smiling. They both stretched into the motion like a set of puppies. “Good girls,” he purred, making them glow with happiness. “No more taxi driving and instead getting blowjobs in the back seat makes John one happy master,” he continued, while his hands glided over their silky silver scalps. Then he looked over to the other two girls that had been supposed to finish up their licenses today. “And what’s your excuse for failing?” he asked, in completely amused and teasing fashion.

“APPARENTLY,” Metra started out in a very aggressive fashion, “you’re NOT supposed to honk repeatedly at the fucking sack of bones that crosses the street at a snail’s pace. Can’t even threaten to run them over by stepping on the gas, just a little bit!”

“You were driving a bus, Metra,” John pointed out.

“AND HE WAS STILL ON THE STREET WHILE I HAD A GREEN LIGHT!” the First of Wrath exclaimed. “Urgh… anyway, I will have to retake the test another time. Failed because of bad temper… that woman can go fuck herself…”

John could only snicker to himself hearing all of that. That Metra turned out to suffer from prolific road rage was absolutely unsurprising, but pretty amusing regardless. The bigger wonder was that she managed to get through the previous practical tests without anybody scolding her for it. “You’ll get it done next time, right?”

“Of course, my king,” Metra crossed her sun-kissed arms and scoffed, “I’ll just scream internally for the duration… and maybe murder the instructor afterwards.”

“Statement: that would be counterproductive,” Beatrice chimed in.

“YOU THINK?!” Metra snapped back.

“I know,” the passive maid said. “Apology: did not think you needed that clarified.”

“You are insufferable.”

“Truth: and you failed to get your driver’s lice- ow,” Beatrice was interrupted when John hit her forehead with a karate chop.

“Bad Beatrice,” he scolded her. “You can keep teasing Metra when she is less seething. Anyway, it’s not that bad. We don’t even have our motor home yet, so having a normal driving license is sufficient. Now, Jane,” John turned to his girlfriend, “how did you fail?”

“How do ya know I did?” Rave asked, kicking the couch she was lying on.

“You wouldn’t be this quiet if you didn’t,” John said and sat down on the edge next to her. Grabbing her shoulders, he started massaging. “Now, what did ya do?”

“Broke the speed limit,” she grumbled. “Like… doubled it.”

“Why did you do that?” John wanted to know.

“Got buddy-buddy with the instructor, kinda cool dude, felt like I got this and said ‘gotta go fast!’ and floored the gas pedal,” she grumbled. “Apparently, not that funny a joke.”

“Well, normal people die in a car crash,” John reminded her. “So they aren’t that fond of someone speeding around in the New York inner city. With a truck.”

“I did it on a long, empty street!” his girlfriend justified herself. “Anyway, he was cool enough to let me retry tomorrow…”

“That’s good.” John kept rolling the muscles of her neck between his skilled hands, and soon Rave stopped staring at her phone and just laid there in a thoughtlessly relaxed state. Which was exactly when John raised a hand to smack her yoga-pants wearing ass.

After a surprised half-moaning yelp, she exclaimed, “Ya jerk!”

“Your jerk,” the Gamer pointed out while she sat up. “Here is something to make you feel better,” he said and pulled her into a loving kiss. He held her face on both sides, scratched her lightly behind the ears, while their tongues intertwined. He let out a pained laugh when she, in a motion of minor revenge, pinched his ass, but stayed connected to her lips.

After half a minute, they backed off each other just slightly. “Yeah, that helps.” She gave him a bright smile and another quick peck on the lips. “Alright, what now?”

“Now,” John told her, “we take care of the remaining mundane things.” He rose from the couch and pulled her with him. They hadn’t even been back home long enough to get undressed; John had been the last arrival following the parallel running tests, but he already wanted to head back out.

After all, what was a driving license worth without having something to drive?

____________________________________________________________________________

‘Last taxi ride of my life… I hope,’ John thought, hearing the guy drive away from him. It had been the worst drive of his life so far. The taxi had been greasy, the driver unkempt, fat and unwashed, and he had steadily flirted with John’s girls. If it hadn’t been for the fact that they were moving on inner-city highways, the Gamer would have kicked the guy out of the door. As it was, the only (petty) revenge he could take was not giving a tip.

All of that didn’t matter though, since they had arrived at their target: a large car dealership in the western outskirts of New Jersey. Two reasons brought the Gamer to this specific location over any over place they could have shopped at. One was a simultaneously extensive and expensive arsenal of potential vehicles to buy. The other was that this was a dealership that was owned by an Abyssal. While the wares themselves weren’t magic, apparently this was more of a hobby business, having someone in the know would make things a lot smoother.

John had announced himself a few days prior, so the second he stepped inside, said owner waltzed towards them. He was a lanky guy with gelled back, light brown hair and a big, well-faked smile. As far as his appearance went, he was neither handsome nor ugly, he plainly looked like someone that encapsulated the very concept of salesmanship.

“Hello, Mister Newman, I’ve been waiting for you!” His enthusiastic greeting came with an extended hand. “I am Barnie Rubenford, we corresponded over email, as you surely remember!”

“Given that I initiated the contact, I better.” John took the hand, just out of courtesy. He got the feeling this would be more of a headache than he had bargained for. People that talked a lot like this had to be sexy, adorable, funny or authentic to be tolerable. Basically, they had to be Sylph.

A fake laugh echoed through the air while Barnie turned around. “Of course, of course. Mister Newman, I’ve taken the liberty to prepare some of the things you showed interest in. If you would, I have parked them right over here!”

Although the majority of the shop’s merchandise was parked outside, many of the particularly expensive and visually impressive cars had been stored within. In the silver-white of the highly polished store, they stood out like fine art. Which, to be fair, a car was. Much more than what many ‘proper’ modern art stores offered, at least. Although John had never been a big fan of this mode of transportation, he had to admit they were quite aesthetic and fulfilled a fundamental purpose. That alone made them more tasteful.

They entered a section where basically all displayed merchandise was painted in darker colours. This was unusual; everything else was either white or some variance of silver to keep with the dazzling design of the building. Their presence and concentration likely meant that Barnie had done his research on John and found out that the Gamer preferred darker colours when it came to his attire. ‘I don’t like his attitude, but he is good at his job,’ John admitted.

“First and foremost, we have this.” Barnie stopped next to an SUV. “V6 Cylinder Engine, over 400 horses strong and… ah, what do I annoy you with the technical details. The important bit for you, Mister Newman, is that this baby drives.”

“You’re right, I don’t care too much about the technical numbers.” John nodded and looked around it. It was a rather standard SUV. Bulky, somewhat mean looking front, flowing into a large main body. “How sturdy is it?”

“As sturdy as a CAR can be, sir,” Barnie answered. The emphasis on the word car was likely to remind John of the mundane nature of the materials used. “The windows are bulletproof, frame and chassis reinforced. Whoever you could get into a car crash with better be well-insured, their car would be totaled.”

“How many seats?” John asked.

Barnie slapped the roof of the car. “This bad boy can fit up to eight people in it.” Closing his eyes, John took a deep breath to ignore the meme his life had become. The sound of the door opening made him return to reality and just ignore the mental pain. “There’s two seats in the front and two identical, three person benches in the second and third row.” He took a step to the side and made an inviting gesture.

“Imma check it out,” Rave said and went inside. Adjusting the seat and grabbing the wheel testily, she seemed pretty comfortable. “Checks out,” she said, leaning her head back.

“The seats come with integrated heater, separately activatable for back and butt, if you pardon my French,” the car salesman laughed in a self-indulging manner.

Aclysia opened the back row door. Despite having three rows of seats, there were only four doors in total. The middle row seats needed to be folded forwards to access the back row and there didn’t seem to be a lot of leg space there. It was a space limitation that only a bigger car would have solved. “Cleaning?” the weaponized maid asked a single word, inspecting the seats and the floor covers.

“The seats are completely covered for fluid absorption, wiping them off will do the trick for all situations, given they are kept in good condition.” Barnie winked at John. “Don’t you worry, Mister Newman, this car will be able to handle the size of your character! As will all the other ones! I have been careful in selecting only the most fitting of customizations for you.”

“Very considerate,” John admitted and stroked his chin.

“Can I get a test drive?” Rave asked.

“Of this specific car? I’m afraid not very quickly,” Barnie answered with an apologetic bow. “If it would be enough for you, we have the same model with other internals sitting outside. It wouldn’t need to be manoeuvred out of the building first. Does that work for you?”

“Ja.” Rave got out of the present one as Barnie summoned one of his employees with a double-clap, apparently some sort of signal. While his girlfriend was guided away, John took a moment to sit in the driver’s seat of this one himself.

It was really comfortable. Glancing to his right, he found it to be an automatic car. There were the brakes and some buttons that could do any number of things. Adjusting the height of the neck support and changing the leg space until he had the optimal angle for handling the steering wheel and pedals, he found himself feeling like he was sitting in a customized box. Exactly how he should feel in a place that he could spend several hours sitting in.

“Mister Rubenford,” John spoke up, and the car salesman bowed down into his field of view immediately. “One last question about this one,” he kept his voice low, “is there support for a mana engine?”

“None is currently installed, we lack the technical know-how around here,” Barnie reported truthfully. “However, this car is largely a standard construction and any arcano-technician worth their salt can install a mana engine under the hood rather easily. I wouldn’t recommend taking it into public spaces afterwards, however.”

John nodded. Arcano-tech had the tendency of being rather easily identifiable as magic, with all the blue glowing and partly hovering bits about it. “Alright. Make it so this one is standing outside when we’re done with business here. I need to get home after we’re done here.” He swung his legs out of the car and slammed the door shut behind himself when he was out. Aclysia did the same moments later.

“Of course, of course.” Barnie clapped his hands twice again and another worker hurried over. While the car salesman gave instructions, John walked over to Metra who had taken a liking to a motorbike.

“You want that?” John asked, rather liking the way the scantily clad, brown-skinned blonde looked at the jet-black bike. It was one of the more heavily designed variety, lots of plastic bits covering it, the engine partly exposed. Leaning forward, she had one foot on the metal protrusion meant exactly for that purpose. The pose caused her ass and toned thighs to stick out rather seductively.

“You have a whole bunch of nice tools in this age,” the berserker babe responded, stretching even more, now that she was being watched. “Honestly boggles my mind that the mundanes came up with this kind of stuff, confined to their physical laws.”

“Necessity drives ingenuity,” John told her. “You wouldn’t be allowed to drive it the way you’re currently dressed though.” Quieter, he added, “And you can’t use a mobile barrier to get around that, as annoying as that is.” Although mobile barriers were a technical device, they still required a Fateweaver to power them. When John had asked Magoi about that, the High Fateweaver had said it was a technical limitation that may get solved one day. Currently, however, it was very much present.

Metra grunted and got off the bike. “That mobile barriers even exist is another point I can only respect about the modern age. Anyway, yeah, I want this.” She knocked against the plastic screen at the front.

John didn’t even need to open his mouth, Barnie was already right next to him and took the note. “A real pleasure doing business with you,” the salesman declared and gestured towards the remaining merchandise. “I have a bunch of other offers, if you would be interested.”

Over the coming hour, John tested and bought a number of other cars. Not only did he want a wide variety of vehicles, he also wanted enough that his girls didn’t need to bicker over them whenever they needed them. To that end, he bought a second SUV, two more motorbikes, two vans, a bubble car (there could be some necessity) and a standard four-seater.

John got out of the last one, having taken it for a test drive, and nodded in a content fashion. “I think that’s all I want for now. You have the address of my garage?” Since John couldn’t really take all of those cars with him, he would just have them delivered to a place he had rented to store them.

“Of course, of course.” Barnie nodded several times. “I will have them brought there and the keys handed over within the week.”

“So, in the next two days?” John joked, since it was already Wednesday.

Laughing way too enthusiastically at that, Barnie slapped John on the shoulder. “Yes, yes, Mister Newman, you know how the business world works!”

“In some ways.” The Gamer smiled. “Before we go do the paperwork… what about the special projects I asked about?”

“Ah, yes… I got in contact with an old timer collecting friend of mine; he is keeping a lookout just for you for that very special thing you wanted.” Barnie sighed theatrically. “However, no guarantees. Such things are rare. You might be better advised going to an actual car builder and have a rebuild done. As I understand it, you only want the visual anyway.”

“Hmm, yeah, you might be right… you know someone for that?”

“I’ll look through my contacts and will let you know,” Barnie promised. “As for the other thing, I just got the confirmation that they’ll take the job. Your custom limo is being built.”

“Alright.” John smiled and then nodded towards the office. With this arrangement of mundane cars bought, now he just needed to find the time to travel out to the Hidden Tradition to start the building of his personal motorized home and he would be set when it came to cars.

Up next would be working on his pilot license. Technically, he was also in need of a captain’s license, but his naval movement all happened in mobile barriers, so that wasn’t a pressing concern. He would do that whenever he had the time. Once he had all of that knocked out, his mode of travel would be considerably more self-sufficient. A great prospect to have.

Before he could do any of that, however, there was Rave’s birthday coming up.