The Gamer Chapter 1394 – Tea Party 3 – Exposure (Patreon)

John had to hold back the giggles. News of Hailey being a Latebloomer would have gotten out at some point and this was easily among the most entertaining. It took everyone a few seconds to fully digest the announcement, during which Hailey was handed her new plate by a servant that had been out of the room.

Hailey was voracious and John wondered where she was leaving all of that. According to her own statements, she hadn’t been that hungry before she got into the Abyss. Was she developing an increased appetite now that she lived in better circumstances or was her body in need of the extra sustenance while the increase of magic was fixing her up?

Would her boobs get even bigger? They were one cup-size away from rivalling the current trio at the top of that hierarchy. John wasn’t sure if he wanted that. It was nice to have something between the decently large breasts of Siena and Undine and the massive mammaries of Delicia, Nathalia, and Salamander.

“A Latebloomer?” Roland finally managed to ask. “Excuse me but… are you for certain?”

“Right outta the heart of Oklahoma, as mundane as they come until some ruffians decided to try and take me along,” Hailey reported and chewed on her next slice of pork. “Can you believe that God made pigs? There’s being blessed and livin’ in the same world as pork’n’bacon.”

The room’s attention shifted to John, who deliberately put on his most enigmatic smile. It would only further his reputation as wise and powerful if the first vacation he took was understood not to have been due to stress, as had been made public, but because he was out there finding, training, and wooing a Latebloomer. Of course that was purely coincidental, but as long as nobody knew that, there was an aura of mystique around him that let him continue to be this larger than life person in the public consciousness.

He could have his cake and eat it too, it was wonderful.

“May I ask what your ability is?” the supportive man carefully inquired.

“Hmmm…” Hailey finished chewing and swallowed. “What do you say, hon’?” she asked, as if this was some kind of state secret that she wasn’t at her leisure to disclose.

John turned the enigmatic smile into a contemplative emptiness. He rubbed his chin for a long while. “I suppose it is best to come out with this early to our allies,” he thought out loud. “Not that I’d swear any of you to secrecy.”

“I would appreciate if this was not made into a dominating topic of the evening,” Nightingale reminded everyone. “Hailey will appear plenty before you; the current circumstance will only remain current for a time.”

“A demonstration and then we’re back to the planned program,” John agreed. “Can you demonstrate with anything you have on hand?”

“Pro’ly.” Hailey took a look around, while loading herself with what else was on the plate. She barely suppressed a burp after she was done, licked her knife clean, then twirled it between her fingers. John noticed a hint of purple and blue energy dancing between her fingers and the metal.

‘Well, that’s new,’ he thought, but chose not to speak about it yet. ‘Best to let her do her thing.’

Hailey was in a craftsman’s trance, connecting objects in the room with her eyes like a detective detected clues. It was always fascinating to watch her work, especially once she got into motion.

Standing up, she marched up to Emrik of all people. “Can I have that pin?” she asked, pointing at a decorative metal bit that was attached to the collar of his suit. “It’ll break,” she warned, before he gave her an answer.

Emrik wordlessly loosened it and handed it over. His Innate Ability must have assured him that there was no malicious intent there. With a thanks and a skip in her step, Hailey proceeded to gather two porcelain bowls, a glass of water, and a tea candle. She proceeded to discard the actual candle, leaving only the aluminium casing, which she riddled with confidently placed holes, using the pin. In the end, she left the decorative piece stuck in the aluminium and put it aside.

Next she used the knife to cut trenches into the porcelain. It was careful work, to pressure the bowls enough that they gave without cracking the material. Still, she worked with confident swiftness. She blew out the dust. Then she poured the water into one bowl, carefully placed the second bowl on top, and put all of that in front of John. “Pour some mana into that.”

John, having no idea what would happen next, did as his woman obliged him. The moment he touched the lid, he was already confused. Those were mundane bowls, with mundane water and mundane metals. What had Hailey done that he felt like he was touching a weak mana engine?

His mana flowed in and the upper bowl began to rise. Only a few centimetres, but enough for the bright light that appeared on the inside to cascade out. “I’m an enigma engineer, or so darlin’ calls it,” Hailey reported, to the general confusion of everyone around. “Apparently I see what y’all can’t see when it comes to applying the laws of physics and magi-tech.”

“What am I even powering?” John asked.

“Oh, just rudimentary stuff. Transferring mana into light is super easy.”

‘With a bunch of random metal and some etched porcelain?’ he thought and let his mana ebb away. Just to be certain that the earlier showcase of arcane energy didn’t have anything to do with this, he Observed each individual part of the construction. Nothing unusual to any of it. This was just Hailey’s normal knack for engineering things at work. Which, in a way, was more ludicrous than her spontaneously developing a knowledge of enchantment.

“Sorry, ain’t the flashiest power to show off without preparation,” Hailey said with a bow. “I’ll have somethin’ for y’all to marvel at soon enough.”

‘Now what does that mean?’ John wondered with a smile. He was vaguely aware that Scarlett, Hailey, and Delicia had been sticking their heads together to build something, although they kept refusing to tell him exactly what. Intuition told him it had to do with the Ohmior blueprints he had given Scarlett a while ago. ‘I should do a grinding session soon. I hope Magoi can free his schedule next weekend.’

“An engineer, is it?” Emrik stood up. “If I may have a word with her? I’m interested to discuss a thing or two?”

Hailey and Nightingale both looked at John. One for a pointer whether this was a good idea and the other for whether or not she should suppress this. This was a meeting for John to speak to the opposition, meaning that it wasn’t strictly against the ‘rules’ if the opposition had a talk outside of him that followed a different topic.

John gestured for Hailey to get a little closer. “That’s Emrik, he’s my primary political opposition – No, our politics aren’t as divided as Democrats and Republicans, so it’s not that bad to talk to him,” he preempted that question. “His Innate Ability lets him pick up every change, however subtle, in your body language. You can assume he always assumes your intentions when saying something. Keep that in mind, if you talk to him.”

“Will do, sugar,” Hailey whispered back, then considered for another second. With a shrug, she announced, “Alright, Mister Speaker, ya can riddle me with questions.”

Watching Hailey move to Emrik had John feel some uncertainty. Alas, he trusted Emrik to be an upstanding guy, if nothing else. The middle-aged politician offered Hailey his chair and talked to her while standing, hands in his pockets.

John forced himself to look back at the people at his table. It was good for Hailey to start venturing outside his proverbial nest. The sooner she learned to engage with the wider Abyss on her own terms, the better.

“So,” he looked at the adversarial woman, “why did you oppose the motion?”

“Is that difficult to understand?” she asked and crossed her arms. John wasn’t sure if she was naturally abrasive or if she was being deliberately confrontational to increase her clout with her ideological partners. To some people, more than John would have preferred, opposition to the enemy was itself a reason for status. People of all sides and thoughts engaged in it. The act of throwing a punch could be heroic to people that preached peace, as long as it was against the right target.

“I could contemplate a great manner of possibilities,” John responded calmly. “Isolationism, rejection of the Divided Gates as legitimate, contrarianism, to name only the first three that come to mind. However, I will never know what I don’t know until someone else points it out to me. Even an erudite mind has its pitfalls.” Slight annoyance seeped into his voice and out from his body in an aura. “I asked you a question in an effort to learn. Do you want to criticize me for wanting to understand you? If you do, you lose any right to criticize me for when I don’t. After all, I made the effort and you’re being obstructive.”

There was a smile that played around the woman’s lips for a moment. Those who had debated a lot before knew that kind of smile. It was the grin of a liar and provocateur who felt like they were getting away with it. Duper’s delight, they called it. “If you’re lacking the necessary empathy to understand then-“

“Enough,” Nightingale said. The mouth of the woman kept moving, until she realized that her words no longer reached anyone. The harpy and the obstructive woman were both swallowed by cocoons of impenetrable darkness.

John strained his eyes, attempting to cut through his haremette’s illusionary powers. It was a great assurance that she was on his side. Otherwise, her veiling powers would have driven him paranoid several times over. It was only a matter of time until the goddess of the night expanded her repertoire from merely veiling information to manipulating it. It was not exactly part of her aspect, but it was adjacent enough that John believed she could learn.

For a moment, he believed he could see something stir in the darkness. He wasn’t sure if that was real or if that was the same kind of imaginary movement that was often produced when one gazed into pitch black. The veil dispersed.

“Siena,” Nightingale raised her voice and the midnight elemental stepped off the platform. Visibly, this time around. “Please escort our guest off the premises. She is unfit for this circle.”

The contrarian woman crossed her arms. John could see the thought of resisting travel over her face. Simultaneously, it occurred to him that he possibly could have interjected. It would possibly dismantle her narrative about him if he was the reason she could stay. Alas, with tribalists, it was typically not worth the effort. Plus, to go against the hostess was just bad manners.

Any conviction the politician may have had was melted away when Siena’s crystal-bladed tail waved through the air in front of her. The midnight elemental’s sadistic smile spelled out a wish for there to be a reason for her to do more than be a guide. Even though the woman may have reasonably known that she wouldn’t get tortured, instincts said something different. In the end, humans were creatures of evolution, not logic gates. The woman gulped and followed the order.

“You think it’s wise of you to remove guests?” John whispered to Nightingale.

“It is necessary to keep the proper discourse.” The harpy’s gown settled in the regular, smooth display of her wings. “A chorus with stray voices will only be listened to until the noise complaint.”

“A chorus… not sure I want the government apparatus to sing with one voice.”

“You want it to sing the same song. In unison or contrapuntal, it both is valid. Important is only that the melodies do not diverge. When two orchestras occupy the same hall, one will be made silent.”

“I suppose that is a way to say ‘one ideology will take over, one way or another’,” John hummed and scratched the neck of his harpy. She cooed and leaned into the relaxing touch. “I’ll leave it to you, then, to keep moderating these gatherings.”

“All those capable of civilized dialogue will be met with open arms,” Nightingale stated. Coquettishly she blinked at him and hid her smile behind a raised wing. “I will build my reputation as a just organizer, my love. Leave this to me.”

“It’d not work as well if I organized these things,” John said and looked at the other guests. “I doubt you would feel as comfortable with me organizing these myself?”

“Truthfully speaking,” another woman, one that had not yet said anything to him, “I have yet to form an opinion on whether or not these parties are worthwhile. I can see that tonight does not contain any sycophants, at least.”

“I have no use for a weak patriarch,” Nightingale put it in unblemished terms. “If my John is incapable of withstanding criticisms and other viewpoints, that problem needs to be addressed or he is no longer my John.” She lowered her wing to reveal her serious expression. “I am Patron Goddess of Fusion and one of his harem. Expect me to put down one of these two positions if they are ever at odds with one another.”

Nodding with understanding, and basic respect, the woman dropped the topic. “I do not see eye to eye with you on the Divided Gates, Mister President. I believe that we should never be a part of an organization that contains both the Great Sultanate and the Purest Front. Especially since we’re only invited because we’re strong and will be stronger still.”

“I believe that is the way of the world, much as we would like it to be otherwise,” John responded. “Peace is created by those strong enough to make war an unattractive prospect. The only shackles nations have on them are those placed on them by other nations and by themselves.”

“And I fully believe that Fusion will have the power, through you and through our resources, to one day dictate the form of engagements like Krieg currently does with his pact that prevents gods from fighting outside home territory,” the woman told him.

“Ah, so you believe we shouldn’t join because we’re exceptional,” John hummed. “Certainly, a perspective to consider. Although I will say that we are not exceptional yet. I may change my tune once we are.”

“That is all I can ask for,” the woman said and bowed her head.

Conversations continued for a while. They meandered in and out of the topic of Fusion’s place in the Divided Gates, typically directed back by Nightingale. John soon worked out that his haremette was observing everyone at the table carefully, putting them at the centre of attention whenever they had the expression of wanting to say something. She was doing her utmost to be a suitable moderator for the conversation.

An hour passed, after which John was a bit wiser. Most viewpoints he had already considered and there were none that he found surprising. What was good to know was which were prevalent among his opposition. The greater value was that his opposition felt listened to and that he had been given the opportunity to assuage their fears. It certainly would do wonders against more of them joining the hardened contrarians – although that would only remain true for as long as he remained reasonable and credible in their eyes.

Eventually, Nightingale stood up. John took the liberty of hitting his glass with a spoon for her. The singing of the empty container silenced conversations across the room. “Thank you all for appearing tonight,” she addressed the gathered politicians. “All of you lead busy lives. Dedicated to bettering those of the people you serve. If you wish to further discuss matters of principle and rulership, philosophy and reality, then I extend to you all an invitation to accompany me back home. A sophisticated gathering, with tea and privacy. For those of you that lack the time, I again thank you for your time.”

Nightingale sat back down and gave everyone a moment to make their decision.