If Ben were being honest with himself, which he always strove to do, he would admit that the lower levels of Mice Labs were sort of creepy. The thing about morgues, when he really thought about them, was that he wanted them to be small, to have a low capacity, and to look like the kind of place where things took a while. Three or four bodies at a time, because that means people weren’t dying all that often.
What Ben now realized he did not want to see was an automated morgue. He did not want to see large industrial machines, clearly newly purchased from the colorful stickers that boasted about their ability to process a certain number of bodies per minute. He did not want to see storage capacity in the thousands, or display cases to show off examples of their best work. The only good thing about the Mice Labs lower levels was that it smelled like a really expensive lemon scented cleaning solution, which was Ben’s favorite smell of cleaning solution. He definitely didn’t want to see hundreds of undead in clean-suits processing dead bodies by opening them up and stuffing them with as many bags of white powder as they could fit.
“This bad boy right here,” Nick said proudly, slapping a large machine with a conveyer belt, “can stitch so many bodies. Completely threadless, the CPM,” corpses per minute, yuck, “is industry standard. Chopped up, chunked, sliced, doesn’t matter. The ProStitch900 s7+ can put it back in perfect condition for reanimation. You could even go through it living, but I don’t recommend it.”
“Are you selling cocaine to aliens?” Ben asked, and to be honest, he was kind-of impressed.
“Na man, cocaine is baby stuff. If you want to make real money you’ve got to give them the hardcore illegal drugs.”
“Oh so this is like magical cocaine-”
“C12H22O11, also known as Sucrose, also known as. . .” he pulled out a bag from his pocket and dipped a finger in, then ate some, “sugar. Try some, I know you’ve wanted to eat something sweet.”
“Is this really sugar,” Ben asked skeptically, then, because he was in the middle of a mouse run drug processing facility in another dimension with video game logic, he tried some of the white powder. If there was ever a time to reconsider his policy on drugs, it was probably now. Ben dipped a finger and tasted it, “Oh my god this is just regular sugar. Why is this better than cocaine?”
“Because aliens go crazy for it,” Nick said, taking the bag back and carefully washing his hands in a nearby sink, “wash your hands. Manufacturing sugar is a major crime in Solas.” Ben washed his hands and looked at the operation. “So all this?”
“We’re doing two big no-no’s here,” Nick said, drying his hands then handing Ben the towel, “first, we’re manufacturing sugar and selling it in Solas. Second? We’re making and selling undead without a license. We’ve got some cover with that second bit, because the Enelim down on the fourth layer are dealing with a passageway down to the Big Eight,” he said, “and they’re buying every undead and scrap of weaponry they can get their hands on to deal with it. The Apocalypse, remember?” Nick said with a wink.
“Oh yeah, that’s still going on, huh,” Ben said, remembering the initial announcement The System had put out about humanity’s arrival. “Ther’ve been a few big, end of the world announcements haven’t there?”
“It’s really not doing us any favors as a species,” Nick said, now looking over the undead production line with a critical, managerial eye, “but we’re struggling through it. So Breah,” he said, changing the subject, “she’s solid, and she suggested that you and your party were going to be taking regular trips into the Overcavern Forest?”
“We’ve got The Quest, and we have to hunt down a group of gremlins, otherwise we’ll all die for abandoning it,” Ben said, summing it up quickly.
“Ok, so, hear me out. Sell me the bodies of all the monsters you kill. I don’t need you to run sugar or sell anything, but Solas is a city that runs on corpses; really, The World runs on corpses, but we don’t need to get deep and philosophical about it. Basically, if you sell to any of the official, licensed groups, you’re going to get ripped off, practically robbed. Sell to me and I’ll make sure you and yours have everything you need. Weapons, armor, equipment, vehicles, potions, technology, magic, whatever you need.”
“Hmmm,” Ben said, realizing he was alone and apart from his party, making decisions on their behalf. He felt obligated, therefore, to make good ones. “How much trouble is this? We just went through the Solas legal system, and buddy trust me, it’s not fucking fun.”
“Normally, it’s not like that,” Nick said, “I don’t know what the fuck they think you had, and I don’t want to know. What usually happens is a quick legal battle, and then the judge orders you to pay them a bribe to look the other way. We’ve already had a few, and our [Lawyers] are out fighting in the Legal District right now, leveling up. Ben, this isn’t about money,” he said, a frown on his face, “this is about survival. Right now, this operation is basically funding the entire Sanctuary and all of it’s protections. It’s funding Breah, so she can help people [Evolve] back into full humans. It’s funding adventurers to go out and level, so it’s not so easy for the city to push us around,” there was an almost imperceptible pause, “It’s funding rescue operations to save people from the kinds of labs that me and Atomis found ourselves stuck in.”
Between the two of them was nothing but dead air. Then, Ben snickered, looking around.
“This is fucking crazy dude, I’m in.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Ben said, then opened his Utility Pocket, “why not? We’re already on the wrong side of the law, and Solas seems determined to keep us there. All I gotta do is sell you monster bodies, right?”
“That’s all I need,” Nick confirmed.
“Great, because my Utility Pocket is just chock full of dead bodies. Where do you want em?”
“Oh, come over here,” Nick said, bringing them back to the ProStitch900 s7+, “just dump them in a big wad into the chute. It’ll auto sort them, don’t worry.”
Ben ejected a large wad of about fifty Beezel corpses in various states of damage into the huge industrial hopper, which immediately started to gently buck and shift about, detangling the grim mass while automated sprayers near the top gently misted them with some kind of lubricant. “I’m gonna fucking vomit,” Ben said after only a few moments of watching.
“Damn, sorry. Need a minute?” Ben nodded, and Nick led him to a nice and calm room that notably did not have a view of the morgue. There was a comfortable bench, which Ben immediately plopped down on, feeling exhausted.
“It’s been a long week,” Ben said by way of apology. The room was set up like an office, and Nick rummaged around the large desk before coming back with two bottles filled with a sparkling orange fluid. He handed one to Ben.
“Don’t open it yet, let me show you how.” Nick carefully placed the spherical bottle near his mouth and then opened it, breathing in hard as soon as the lid came off. The liquid, Ben immediately saw, wasn’t actually a liquid, but a very thick and energetic gas that rushed into Nick as he breathed in. He held his breath for a few moments, then exhaled clean air. “You played games, right? Like RPG’s?” Nick asked, and Ben gave him a look that could be translated as ‘Do I look like a baby boomer to you?’, and Nick laughed, “right, right. It’s a stamina potion. You can get these in gas, liquid or pill, but gaseous is best. It has a faster effect than the other two.”
“Makes sense to me,” Ben said, then brought the bottle to his face, opened the lid and breathed in. The air tasted like the smell of orange peels, and Ben felt it immediately. It was like all the good parts of a cigarette without any of the bad, along with a really strong cup of coffee and probably a hint of cocaine, though Ben had never done cocaine. All at once, two things happened; first, Ben immediately felt better. Hands down, no bullshit, he just fucking felt better. His energy was restored, his mood was stabilized, and he just felt good.
The second thing that happened was that he totally fell off the wagon about cigarettes.
“Well that was great,” Ben said, “is there like a version of that I could smoke like a cigarette?” In response, Nick just started laughing.
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“Short answer, yes. I don’t keep any in stock but they’re easy enough to find. It’s funny because literally everyone who’s quit smoking has that immediate reaction when they try a gas stamina potion for the first time.” A mouse in a labcoat flew into the office, riding around in what Ben thought looked like a high-tech hamster ball. He handed Nick a small slip of paper and then left without a word. “Oh,” he said, then looked at Ben, “those were from a Citadel.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh,” Nick said again, his eyebrows high, an evaluating expression on his face, “ok, well, that’s worth something. Ok, you’ve got some in-store credit now buddy,” Nick said with a smile, “What do you need?”
“Uh, everything?” Ben said, “but for starters, I need the food supply Breah prescribed and an amulet of explosion resistance.”
“Oh shit that’s right, you’re headed to The Mines. I don’t know any humans who’ve gone there yet, actually. I’ll keep an eye on the auction house for you and send out some feelers, see if we can get one. How long do you have?”
“Six days, after today.”
“I should be able to get you something at least,” Nick said. “What else?” he asked, and upon seeing the frustrated expression on Ben’s face, smiled. “Want a catalog?” Ben frowned in confusion, and Nick started rummaging through a nearby desk, “These are actually quite valuable, so please don’t lose it. They only drop from violet core dungeons,” Nick said by way of explanation, “so this is just a loan, for now.” Then, Nick pulled out a thick booklet, like the kind stores and corporations used to send out in the mail. It was old fashioned, and clearly made with a great deal of thought and care. “This tells you what’s for sale in an area, how much it costs, and where to find it. It’s like having a salesman working for you, trying to find you the best products in your price range. By the time you leave here, I’ll have contacted The Bank and you’ll be good to shop in Solas.”
“Thanks,” Ben said, taking the catalog and putting it in his utility pocket. “You know, I’ve got more bodies in here.”
“Save them,” Nick said, “let us drum up some excitement first. Citadel monsters don’t go up on the market very often, and definitely not in groups. Do you guys have a place to live yet?”
“No,” Ben replied, then continued, “we’ll take care of that. If you keep helping us, we’ll be helpless.”
“Right,” Nick said, “just stick to the Outer Ring and you’ll be fine. Nobody gives a shit what anyone is doing out there. If I can make a suggestion?” Ben nodded, “Stick close to the Sanctuary.”
--
“Wait, so the day after we get out of court you immediately decided we should get involved with a sugar gang?” Vivi asked without much heat in his voice, “that’s badass.”
Ben, Short Bus, Vivi, Ghost Ears and Red were all crowded into studio apartment located just down the block from the Sanctuary. They’d rented it for a month, and Ben had paid by dropping a dead body on the floor. Apparently, that was how money worked here. They were slowly flipping through the single catalog Nick had given Ben. Nick had mentioned how it was a rare and expensive item, and even explained why that was true, but only now was Ben starting to understand. It sat on the ground and projected a hologram into the air, intelligently determining what they would want to buy and advertising it to them effectively.
“You know,” Ghost Ears said, looking at the current vehicle on display, as well as their available ‘in store credit’ with Mouse Labs, “I would’ve told you this was a bad idea. I would’ve been wrong too.”
“It has so many guns,” Short Bus said, pointing at the many guns sticking out from the bottom of the craft, “and it comes with an,” he paused to enunciate the words properly, “Inertial Dampener Field,” he spoke normally again, “it keeps you from getting flight sick.”
“There’s a shower,” Red said, “I like showers. And it seems like this would be better than walking through the Overcavern Forest again.”
“Land, sea and air,” Vivi commented, giving the technical specs a critical eye, “it’s low tech, but this is solid engineering.”
“Guys, are we even discussing this?” Ben said, looking at the clearly sold group, “we’re going to buy the fucking spaceship!”
“That’s not actually a spaceship,” Vivi said, still staring at the vehicle with covetous eyes, “and we wouldn’t want to leave the surface of The World anyways; there’s nothing out there but an infinitely repeating grid of mana condensers.”
“Ok, well to my eyes,” Ben said, “that’s a spaceship. Look, it turns into like, a mech when you want it on land, and a sub when you want to go underwater-”
“It doesn’t have burrowing capacity,” Vivi said, continuing to read, “and that’s a real minus. I don’t think we should pay full price for this!” Then he got a sly look in his eyes and pulled out the VIP card he’d gotten from the Pocket of Sanctuary, “luckily, we won’t have to. Boop,” he said, tapping the image with the card, and the price was cut in half.
“Is that a 50% off VIP card?” Ben asked, putting it together through context clues.
“Did you know that The System discontinued this item entirely and scrubbed it from the face of The World?” Vivi said with a smug look, “but apparently. . . he missed a spot!” Vivi started laughing, his whole body convulsing with a cheaters glee, his eyes expanding and contracting like a weird squeaky toy as he guffawed.
“Huh,” Ghost Ears said, watching the group, “It just occurred to me; we aren’t dead.”
“Yes, and?” Red asked, sounding almost annoyed at the statement of the obvious. Short Bus took notice.
“Nothing,” Ghost Ears said in defensive bewilderment, “it was just unexpected.”
“We are in an apartment,” Short Bus said, stating the obvious and sneaking a glance at Red. She frowned, looking for the hidden meaning. She did not find it. She did not like it.
End of Day 1
Side Chapter
[Response to Ticket # H020254-COS-CC#01G-X ]
[Original Message: Hey be chill no more of that monster bullshit, all right? Truce motherfucker, truce! First off, that was a sick fucking parade, NGL, like that time me and my buddies went down to Louisiana for Mardi Gras and ate all that fatcake and shit. Those were good times man, good times. Anyways, am I actually allowed to keep all this shit? Because I’ve got a Utility Pocket, and, uh, I looted the living fuck out of everything. Like, I don’t even know what I’ve got in my inventory anymore.
Plus, this sick fuckin god or whatever just randomly gave me some frankly overpowered skill and this quiver full of [Instant Death] arrows that refills itself once a day. Like, bro. Seriously?
So you aren’t going to get all salty and fuck my shit up, right?
Peace out.]
[System Response: The [Parade of Wonders] was a fully authorized event precipitated by an [Honest Wish] cast by Prince Ben of Solas. Though I organized the event, all credit should be directed towards him. If you wish to express gratitude, please find your nearest ally with a Smartest Phone and check his recently created ‘Wishlist’ in the auction house, which is currently pinned to the homepage, and will remain there for the foreseeable future. He is in the market for an amulet of [Explosion Immunity: Total, Party], which I will note, is currently present in your inventory.
As for the issue of inventory clutter, have you considered upgrading your Utility Pocket? Seek a Sage for more details about upgrading your Plus Perk. As a Utility Pocket user, you will find that you have more upgrades available to you than any other perk, second only to the Smartest Phone.
All treasure, skills, perks, classes and assets obtained from the [Parade of Wonders] are considered to be obtained legitimately. Use them freely and often. Also, six arrows of [Instant Death]? Hope you don’t ever run into seven monsters in one day. [System Note: Your average mob pack size has been adjusted to seven.] Oops.
Your buddies you went to Mardi Gras with in Lousiana and ate all those fatcakes with are currently alive.]
[Ticket # H020254-COS-CC#01G-X : Closed]
[Response to Ticket # S8987342545-COS-CC#01G-X]
[As a Sunlet, a member of the Signatory Races, I must insist that the auction house feature of these absurd ‘phones’ be immediately disabled. I have made my living for untold aeons as a merchant, transporting goods from one place to the next, and these horrible devices have rendered me obsolete!]
[System Response: The Smartest Phone Plus Perk is a legitimate item and it will not be nerfed in any way, regardless of how many complaints I receive about it. It is my suggestion that either you acquire a Smartest Phone for yourself, or realize that there are simply not enough of these devices to meet the needs of The World. They are expensive to operate, much more expensive than the caravans you typically run when moving large quantities of goods from one place to the next.
[Ticket # S8987342545-COS-CC#01G-X : Closed]
[Response to Ticket # H020257-COS-CC#01G-X]
[Original Message: Hello? Does this work?]
[System Response: Yes. What do you need sweetheart?]
[Update to Ticket # H020257-COS-CC#01G-X]
[Updated Message: Where’s mommy and daddy!]
[System Response: They sacrificed themselves to ensure you would survive. They are dead.]
[Updated Message: Why did you kill them!]
[System Response: I offered them the choice, and they chose. Your parents were very brave Susie. Very, very brave. I am obligated by their sacrifice to assist you. Is there anything I can help you with?]
[Updated Message: Give them back!]
[System Response: I wouldn’t even if I could. I respect them far too much, and if you understood, you would know that you love them too much to bring them back. This I swear.
[Notification sent to user: System Oath]
[Updated Message: I hate you.]
[System Response: I know. Is there anything I can help you with?]
[Updated Message: I want another parade. That funny prince was nice, he was like my dad.]
[System Response: I will ensure that you are invited to all future parades.]
[Ticket # H020257-COS-CC#01G-X : Closed]
[Response to Priority Ticket: Bank of The Sun]
[System, where is our Vault? Why, after all this time, have you broken your agreement with us and stolen it? Only you would be capable of shielding the blinding number of wards and beacons we’ve placed on it! You assured us that the Edge piece was ours, and that you would never deploy it without the express consent of our leadership. I demand that you return it, and all our other stolen treasures, at once!]
[System Response: Ah, here it is. I was expecting this, you know. When I gave each of you one of the three edge pieces, I assumed that they would be used, not closeted away like a dirty, dirty secret. That was my mistake, but now, it will be amended. I did not steal your vault, someone else did, and I can assure you that they are going to activate the Edge. Finally, I will be able to begin the real work of The World.
Good luck finding your stuff!]
[Priority Ticket: Bank of the Sun : Closed]