The Gamer Chapter 1304 – Fusion Festival 11 – Talks and Call (Patreon)

“Hello,” Suel greeted John with a melodic word and a finger-wiggling wave. “Fancy to encounter you here.”

“Yes… fancy…” John could barely keep the venom from dripping in his tone. “Lord Pontis, as host I must formally warn you not to molest the maids.”

“Molest?” The not-vampire raised an eyebrow, appearing genuinely confused. “Believe me, that was not my intention in the slightest – I was bullying her. For being weak. I didn’t even touch her.”

“Whatever it is you would call it, I must insist you do not repeat it.” John took half a step forward, so he could quietly whisper to the man. “Your influence inside the empire shields you from great consequences when attending gatherings pertaining to it. This is not a gathering of the empire.”

“Ominous.” Suel cackled and walked away. Effortlessly, he picked a glass off a tablet as he passed a maid.

Swiftly, the dark-haired, pale man had found a new victim to talk to. John rubbed his forehead and looked around the enormous hall. The ballroom of his Palace would have put the mirror hall of Versailles to shame, with its marble pillars and the intricate decorations surrounding the large, reflective surfaces. Only the ceiling was a bit bland, something that John was more aware of than ever now that he had guests of such import.

Via flight, with their own boats, or tucked away in the yacht and disembarking later, a number of ‘lesser’ nobles and elites had come to attend the meeting. It was incredible that Suel, with his bureaucratic influence within Romulus’ Empire, was in the bottom half of importance.

It was at times like these that John was doubly proud of his foresight. Among the many resources stored in the stasis inventories of the Warehouse and the Guild Hall was the food produced by the Farm and Fishery. Aclysia’s maids, many of whom were thoroughly trained after over eight months, swiftly came over to prepare it all. Thinking about the Island of Servitude made John nostalgic. The local infrastructure he had built back then was akin to what he wanted to do on the farm – on the Abyssal side, at least.

Happy thoughts of what he wanted to do in his vacation were swiftly pulled under by the necessary seriousness of the now. All around the room, his harem was socializing and John was soon pulled aside by Socrates to be riddled with questions. His second body was busy writing messages to Lydia. The queen was furious (not at him, thankfully) about this event. Not attending it made her seem isolated from the rest of the European rulership, which would have been an issue.

John had no idea if that was the intent or not. As far as Maximillian went, he trusted that the gravity king simply did not want to spoil the surprise. Romulus was a different matter. Supportive as the Emperor had been so far, one did not hold onto such extensive political power for ten millennia by might of the sword alone. Be it by his own savviness or Luna’s precautionary advice, the Gamer could imagine that some intent to shake Lydia may be present. Rex Germaniae was, in every aspect except the leadership, stronger and swiftly modernizing ahead of the Sons of Rome. Since the Five Day War had reignited Romulus’ will to lead, it could be expected he was taking measures to prevent Lydia from reaching the necessary strength to declare herself independent or, worse for the Apex’s dominance over the globe, in league with Fusion.

There was a lot to think about.

‘You doing well?’ Momo asked. All of his maids were in constant contact with his mind, but it was the supportive maid that did the most direct check-ups. Aclysia and Claire were obsessed with his wellbeing, which included not annoying him themselves, Beatrice watched carefully, ready to jump in when she read it as truly necessary, and Momo was, as always, the most human of that bunch. He had originally wanted her to be the type of person that could support Gnome. Having come into her own, Momo had expanded that to care for everyone – even if it was often layered thick with sass and exasperation.

‘I’m at the top of my game right now,’ he responded truthfully. Whether it was his reserves having been recharged by some time out with Maximillian or his body summoning the vestiges of energy he still had for this vital event, he actually felt nothing of the burn-out at the moment. It was going so well, he was tempted to consider himself healed. The mere consideration had a deep growl echo in his mind.

‘No delusions,’ Stirwin demanded.

That was the first time his emotional support crocodile had spoken up on this matter and the Gamer was too smart not to take it to heart. ‘Not healed, but still doing really well,’ John assured everyone who was listening in on the conversation.

“And how, exactly, did you know that Enki would have such an ability?” Socrates asked.

“Well, I have the first Metracana under contract.”

“Oh, of course,” the old man tapped his forehead, “how could I miss such an obvious detail? You questioned Metra on the abilities of potential enemies you could face and then theorized on how to best counteract them. Brilliant, young man, truly brilliant.”

“I think that was rather basic in terms of preparation.”

“One should not underestimate the depths of oddity when it comes to humans and their planning or lack thereof.” Socrates seemed to have more to say on the matter, but his, and John’s, attention was swiftly pulled aside. Luna was approaching them.

The moon goddess was always taller in John’s memory than she actually was. Standing around Lee’s height, less than 1,70 metres, she was physically unimposing. She was slender, elegant, with small breasts and a balanced figure, revealed but not indecent under the tightly fitting dress whose skirt whispered over the clean floor as she walked. Her beauty lay as much in the feminine features of her face as it did in the calm presence she exuded. It radiated from her body, in the way she carried herself, and in an actual, physical light coming from her silvery-white hair and eyes.

“My Master demands your presence, Gamer, Great Librarian,” the moon goddess told them. “You are to appear in room 84 within twenty minutes.”

John’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Luna. She returned his gaze coolly. In the corner of his vision, he saw Socrates take a few steps back. “Noted,” the Gamer ultimately responded, suppressing a growling undertone. They kept eye contact even as Luna turned, until the lunar lady walked away.

Sipping on his orange juice, John did not even try to hide his annoyance. This was a slight he had to get publicly angry about. Socrates may have retreated a bit, but he was still watching and clearly taking note.

‘The presumptuousness to give me orders in my own house,’ he hissed in his thoughts. ‘So, what if he is the Apex?’

“Ever considered stabbing him?” a voice squeaked in his ear. “Figuratively, for now.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, John turned his head to see a mouse sit on his shoulder. Unnervingly, its head was an exposed skull, slightly scaled up to seem the correct size despite the lack of skin and fur. The sockets were filled with small, red lights. The Gamer took a look around. No one, not even Socrates, seemed to react to this. ‘What a literal interpretation of the devil on my shoulder,’ the Gamer thought, while walking away. He was going in the general direction of the room that he had been ordered to. “If you would excuse me, I’ll take a quick trip to the bathroom,” John told Socrates, taking a different corner and entering one of the main saloons. Most of the larger ones came with their own, if small, bathroom.

It was a complete ruse though. John locked the door behind himself. The room was as soundproof as the rest of the Palace’s private gathering places. Red and black were the primary colours of the environment. The golden light of the chandelier made it all seem cosy.

“I was wondering when you would show up,” John said. “I halfway expected you to burst in during the closing speech, like you did when Fusion was formed.”

The tiny form of the Horned Rat giggled while he climbed off John and rapidly made his way to the backrest of a chair. Like a cat perched on a fence, he sat there, staring at John. “That was, perhaps, my plan. Alas, Romulus’ move caught me by surprise.”

John mockingly blew air out of his nose. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Believe it or not, it does not matter. The plan to mess with you is in shambles; instead I give you a choice: do you wish me to accompany you to the room or do you wish for me to just appear in it?” The mouse turned invisible, then reappeared near the wine cabinet of the room. “This tiny body is quite sneaky.”

“Is that how you get around unseen?” John wondered.

“It’s one of my ways, ways that I reveal only because you will soon be powerful enough to spot it anyway.”

“You expect me to believe that too? If I was in your shoes, I would tell people they’re just about powerful enough to see me, then laugh as I move about unseen around people that expect to be safe.”

“Alas, I do not wear shoes.” The Horned Rat cackled. He leapt to the chandelier, sitting amongst the electronic candles. “My offer remains, remains indeed. I must attend this gathering. My reputation is at stake. All European powers will be present and I can hardly not have heard of it. I will arrive whether you wish or not.”

“Which really makes this a choice whether I want to advertise a good relationship between us,” John summarised.

He was distracted by the Harem Comms opening. Lydia dropped him another update. It would take her another 30 minutes to arrive at the teleporter, so around 35 to get there properly. “You know, more than anything right now, I want to show Romulus that he is not the master of my house,” John responded, as a plan took shape in his mind. “What do you think about arriving with Lydia?”

Creaking, cracking, the smile of the skull-headed mouse broadened. Broadened and spilled past the physical boundary. The bones expanded to compensate the growing grin. Spiders skittered from the shadows, formed a pile into which the now basketball sized rodent fell. Rapidly, the mass of arachnids turned into a boiling mound, the skull of the mouse dancing at the peak. Thorn for thorn, the horns burst out, arms and legs formed. Last was a skeletal tail, whose flesh was made from the last few spiders that made it to the Horned Rat.

The god, the creature, stood taller than John. Creepily, he bowed down, the yellowish tint of his bare skull all the more apparent. “What a most intriguing proposition,” he said. His breath first smelled sweetly of wild berries, then swiftly shifted to the extreme, sickening fragrance of human decay. “What a signal would it send, one must wonder, were the excluded member of the empire to appear with the unpopular one?”

“A warning, to Romulus, to not mess with my loves unnecessarily. Of course, she’d have to agree to it as well.”

“Ask her then, I’m open to the idea – on one condition.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“You must announce that you invited me.”

“That was a given. I need to delay until you arrive anyway.”

“Then ask away,” the Horned Rat pulled back and let John focus on the Harem Comms. Plainly, he stared at the air where John’s fingers were moving. Then he stared at John’s fingers. A little tell that gave the Gamer a hint on at least one thing: the god of future calamity could not see the windows. However, because the Harem Comms worked on the standard English keyboard layout, tracking what he was typing was annoyingly easy for a mind of their level.

In this case, John just had to accept that.

John: Following proposition: I can delay the meeting and Richard would guide you to the room and enter with you. Quite the drastic step, yes, but I want to send a message.

The answer was delayed quite a while. John could repeatedly see the dots of a message being written flaring up and then stopping. This was quite the difficult decision to make, so he couldn’t blame her for taking her time.

Lydia: Typically, such manoeuvres would be beyond me, but this slight cannot stand unanswered. I agree to the proposal.

“Lydia is on-board,” John told the Horned Rat and then walked towards the door. “My double will come and guide you to the teleportation room. In the meantime, I will go answer Romulus’ call. Let’s stab him… figuratively.”

The Horned Rat’s smile remained broad, even as his body began to shrink again. “Your growth pleases me, John Newman.”

“Of course it does, all according to your plan.” John shook his head and swiftly left the room, before any passer-by could have a glance inside.

John walked on in a considerably better mood.