The Gamer Chapter 966 – No words for Gamers (Patreon)
Content
John took Moira and Lorelei through the teleporter and then guided them to one of the conference rooms on the ground floor. On the way, he called out to Aclysia, letting the weaponized maid know that she should take care of the new arrivals. Although they had come sooner than anticipated, the necessary actions to accommodate them had already been made.
‘Also treat the Order’s knights nicely,’ he had specifically told her. ‘We don’t need a scene.’
‘As you wish, Master,’ she responded, herself still on the way to the Harbour. Beatrice and Nia were doing a good job overseeing them in the meantime.
Moira took a seat on the burgundy cushion of the ebony wood and jumped right into the topic. “And you are certain you received no message?”
“Absolutely,” John responded, taking one of the chairs and pushing it towards Lorelei. “Please, there is no need for you to stand. Would you like something to drink? A snack?”
“I… uhm…” Lorelei bit her lower hip when he gently touched her to push her down into the seat. The feeling was mutual. Touching her smooth skin had an electrifying effect on John’s senses. He brushed over her shoulder for longer than was appropriate. Despite this, the seer managed to gather herself. For all her sensitivity to his presence, she wasn’t weak-willed. “Something cool, if you could provide, Gamer.”
“John will do, as you know, Lorelei,” he reminded her and slowly backed off. Partially to keep his own desires under control, mostly because Moira was clearing her throat in a warning fashion. He wasn’t intimidated, but they did have to talk business. His steps carried him to one of the closets around and to the many glasses that were displayed behind the translucent doors. They were made for whiskey, champagne and other ‘classy’ spirits, but the container did not dictate the beverage. “You want some too, Moira?” he asked, reaching for the glasses.
“Water,” she stated, hard, and looked over to Lorelei while John placed three glasses on the table. “Did he tell the truth?” she asked.
“Yes, Shield Warden,” Lorelei answered swiftly. John could feel her psychic gaze inspect him, while he opened the seamlessly integrated fridge. He let a little bit of anger swell inside him to warn Lorelei to not look further than he allowed her too. Their interest was mutual, but they were still members of different guilds. That was putting aside the fact that the Gamer despised being spied on. “John did not see a message,” the seer reported, while keeping her gaze as shallow as needed.
“And I’m not one to leave my mails unchecked,” John added, finally putting a cold bottle of water on the table. He poured each of them a glass. Moira and Lorelei were taking their sips, before he sat down on the table. After lubricating his own vocal cords, he continued, “I can’t say I’m surprised that your father would toy with me like this.”
“My honoured father has never been this petty,” Moira returned, but sighed, “albeit, I must admit, that you seem to coerce the worst from him. You two are too similar.”
“Indeed,” John agreed immediately.
Moira raised an eyebrow. “You do not disagree with that?”
“No, it’s true, we’re both prideful, headstrong men at the top of a powerful organization, with visions for the world around us,” John listed the obvious overlap. “People like him and I butt heads at the best of times. As it so happens, you are moralizers and I’m a liberator. That just spells out the recipe for disaster.”
The redhead on the other side of the table rubbed her forehead, but spared herself the obvious returns. It was clear they had come to an impasse when it came to discussing their worldviews. “Fusion and the Order have crystallized as the supreme powers of North America,” she stated. “If there is no diplomatic solution between us, the blood of good people will flow.”
“Are you willing to yield, then?” John asked. “Let your territory be broken up into several member states and join Fusion?”
“No,” Moira gave the expected answer. “The Order of the Golden Rose will command its own destiny.”
“Understandable. Although,” the Gamer looked over the rim of his raised glass, “I hear that the branch in Germany agreed to operate under the lead of Rex Germaniae.”
“The Sword Warden operates within the laws of Rex Germaniae,” Moira corrected in a firm tone. “Laws that are agreeable to our mission. Subordination to the local power is only acceptable if it doesn’t interfere with our values.”
John smiled as he took a sip. She had run directly into his rhetorical trap. “A local power,” he said slowly, “headed by none other than my Lydia. If they take no issue with having one of my girls as their rulers, then certainly you can adjust to having the centre of the harem as your overlord.” The clack of glass on wood underlined his words and was the only sound in the thoughtful silence that followed.
“…Perhaps concessions could be made,” Moira conceded, because she couldn’t without throwing the German branch of her organization under the proverbial bus. As someone who valued her principles and comradery, that wasn’t something the Shield Warden could even consider. “As it stands, there is no need to consider.”
“As you say then,” John waved off. Pivoting to another topic before Moira could come up with a counterargument, he said, “To our business then. The Order dealt with the demons quicker than I expected.”
“The Order has perfected the art of judgement,” the Shield Warden stated. “I appreciate your stern desire for evidence, but if one has access to seers, the number of fringe cases diminishes rather vastly.”
John glanced at Lorelei, who sat straight and quiet in her chair. “So, you oversaw the trials?” he asked her.
“I, and the lesser seers, weeded out the most obviously guilt-stained individuals,” Lorelei reported. “It was a vile society you tried to protect, John. I understand why you did it but…”
“There’s no need to lecture me about what I tried to do,” the Gamer interrupted her calmly. “I know who I tried to help and what the consequences of my victory could have been. Let’s not dwell on that.” He paused for a moment. “How many demons did you bring me? How many stayed in the Order?”
“94 and 3, respectively,” Moira had the exact answer.
“Out of thousands,” John mumbled. “Did you execute the rest?”
“Most. Some cases we judged redeemable. They are under observation, while they adjust to the memory loss,” Moira responded, her facial features softening somewhat. “Your compassion is admirable, John.”
The Gamer poured himself another glass of water to wash down the lump in his throat. He wasn’t about to cry, he wasn’t misty-eyed either, the weight of his failure simply pressed on his chest. “I try to preserve what I have of my humanity,” he mumbled into his glass. “Lord knows that I will struggle with that, through the eternal life that lies before me.”
“Do you worship, John?” Moira wondered, a genuine question in keeping with the mood that settled in the room.
“No, I just say God’s name because I’ve grown up with the phrases,” the Gamer told her. “Although you could say that I act as if he exists, given that I still keep in line with values that very few people could punish me for breaking… Was their journey peaceful?” he switched back to the topic at hand.
“Surprisingly so,” Moira told him. “They let themselves be brought to the ship without issue. I do not understand how a crowd can take the impending wiping of their memories with such calm… demons aren’t humans, John, that much is clear.”
“They agreed to the contract, I suppose they were prepared for this outcome from the start.” John leaned back in his chair. “How many of them have memories predating their arrival in New Libraria.”
“None.”
“…I suppose that puts my previous statement into partial doubt, then,” John sighed. Much like a Canadian could hardly say that he had agreed to the social contract with the Canadian state, a demon born into New Libraria would have a difficult time refusing the conditions of their home. Given the secrecy Galku had aimed for, those that wanted to leave had to take the contract to forget or were murdered on their way out. “So, you bring me only half-breeds, I would guess?”
“Correct. How did you know?” Moira asked. “Demographically, half-breeds were still in the minority, even among those born into New Libraria.”
“I’ve found out that demons become more empathetic the more they mingle with humans. They understand love, develop bonds to other people, are less attracted to raw power… to put it simply: they become more like us,” John told her. “If there was a fraction of New Libraria that would escape your judgement, then I would expect it to be those that had at least an inkling of morality in that awful place.”
“They have forgotten their whole lives – and many of them are better off for it,” Moira told him. “Even those with a speck of innocence are not treated well in a place that worships selfishness and power.”
“I suppose you can look at it like that as well,” John agreed. That framing made the fact that he was dealing with a bunch of memory-wiped sons and daughters a bit easier to digest. “I guess most of them are succubi and incubi as well?”
Moira just nodded; she did not have to ask how he guessed that. Those demons that had the most intercourse would naturally bring about the most offspring. “What will you do with them?” she felt obligated to ask.
“For a start? Keep them isolated from broader society,” John told her. “They don’t have families or memories, so just sending them out into the world would be cruel. For a start, I will encourage them to find a surrogate family in each other. Then we will see what we can do with them. I imagine most of the sex demons will naturally be inclined to start working in the Bae Circle.” He shrugged. “If they integrate well there, that’s for the best of all. The demon blood will continue to dilute until nothing is left of the naturally born sociopaths and they turn into a segment of society with horns, contract obsession and a higher likelihood for extreme pragmatism. For the other types of demons, I will find work for them that matches their natural inclinations.”
“At least you have things planned out,” Moira begrudgingly admitted.
“I always have things planned out,” John tried his best at a dry joke. “The question is just how good the plan is – it is brilliant by the way, most of the time. Speaking of brilliant,” his tone lightened the mood in the room on its own, “what is that sparkly monstrosity you parked in my Harbour? Your base of operation is inland. I get that Springfield has a navigable river, but that’s a bit much.”
“The Blessed Lady has been sitting uselessly in said river since we arrived in that city,” Moira responded. “I’ve never actually seen it be moved aside from maintenance. My father took it with us when our branch of the Order moved from Britain.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the former Brits still have ships around,” John admitted. “I’m more surprised that you moved in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, the USA was in need of cleaning up, but with Britain’s lack of major powers, I’m just confused that you would move your base of operations to another continent, rather than consolidate your grip on the soil under your feet. I think you would rather have that than the current state of affairs.”
Great Britain’s power vacuum had recently been filled by the Illuminati. During the peace deal of the Five Days War, the primarily French guild had laid claim to all of it. More important than the historical irony John felt at the French governing the English was that one of the main powers leading the Illuminati was the Horned Rat.
“My father’s choices are beyond you to question,” Moira gave the tight-lipped answer. Whether she knew herself or not, she refused to let him know what it was.
John let the topic go. It was something he was curious about, but not a thing that ultimately mattered. Instead, he turned to Lorelei, the white-haired seer being a sight to behold. “So, you called the others ‘lesser’ seers. I knew you were special, but just how talented are you?” he asked.
“There is no need to flatter me, John,” Lorelei said, but smiled and played with the tip of her messy braid.
“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” the Gamer returned. A draft of air and the quiet whisper of well-oiled hinges caused him to turn his head. Through the door frame stepped the most beautiful woman in the world, her wild pink mane bouncing with each enthusiastic step. “And here I was trying to hide my date from you, Jane,” he joked.
“Ya couldn’t hide your cheating butt from me if ya flew to Australia,” Rave bantered right back. With light steps, she made her way over to John and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Standing behind his backrest, John’s girlfriend wrapped her arms around his neck and held him lovingly as she greeted the other two. “Hey, sorry for being late. First Lady stuff and ya came in unannounced.”
“Yes, I will make my father aware of that misgiving,” Moira said. “You come in at an opportune time. As I recall, you still owe me a tour of this Hudson Barrier.” She crossed her arms. The tiniest of smug smiles appeared on her lips. “As much as you investigate us with every sentence, Gamer, it is only just that we get to see your infrastructure.”
“Knock yourself out,” John made a gracious gesture. “Our next clash is inevitable, but I’d like to get along with you until and after that. If that is, at all, possible.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Lorelei chimed in, fidgeting a slight bit in her chair. “The Lady has a complicated relationship in store for us.”
“Oh, so our relationship is wanted by Gaia, is it?” John asked, using a considerably more personal tone than Lorelei had. Once more, his attention drilled into the seer. She turned progressively more red. ‘I wonder what state her panties are in… and if she’s going to think of me for a prolonged period tonight.’
Moira let out a resigned sigh, a sound that often accompanied or interrupted the Gamer’s flirts with the seer. “Speaking of clash,” the redhead brought up, “I’ll need some time to change into my armour, given how this tour will likely conclude.”
“Nah, don’t worry,” Rave waved off. “I won’t challenge ya today.”
Moira raised an eyebrow. “I can’t say I’m displeased by that development, but I must ask. What brought it about?”
“I would lose if I challenged ya today,” Rave put it plainly. “I won’t lose to you next time we fight. That’s all.”
“You do work and you learned patience,” Moira shook her head. “The wonders of the Lady’s blessings are boundless.”
“The wonder here is the boundless number of orgasms this guy can screw into me thanks to the Lady’s blessings,” Rave responded swiftly.
Moira turned red.