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Ch.47: Impotent & insecure (Just to be sure)

Ch.47: Impotent & insecure (Just to be sure)

# Ch.47: Impotent & insecure (Just to be sure)

The animals after which this work was not named reached the border.

This time, it was composed of a wall so tall,

that it eclipsed the morning sun from two kilometres away.

F5: How the hell are we going to evade this one?

G: This time, we will be entering the legal way.

F2: Huh?

G: Apparently, the next empire has an "open borders" policy,

meaning that you technically can enter without breaking in.

Z: In actuality, the "legal" method is equally impossible.

J: Are you finished with the lizard?

Z: Yes. You can deal with the rest.

J: Nice. *leaves*

F3: If the options are equally difficult, why should we do it the legal way?

J: *turns back and runs toward desk* Ah, you see!

This is by far the absolute worst place you have visited yet.

Z: The security is equally impenetrable inside as on the border.

So we would instantly get caught.

F6: Ahhh...

F4: If it's so terrible, can't we avoid the place?

G: Unfortunately, no. Apart from being massive,

this empire goes from coast to coast,

and we are still missing a few emperors, so...

F5: Yeah, yeah, I got it.

J: This place is the the Mother Of All Badness,

where you get a MOAB for "lacking in kindness".

Zack started dragging Jack towards the exit.

J: It has just the right mixture of good to make you THINK they are OK,

and then BAM! They burn you at the stake! The architecture is also strange...

G: Just be very careful with this place.

F1: Yes, sir.

F2: What's a MOAB?

They [the foxes] kept driving.

At the base of the wall, there was a single guard booth.

Upon seeing some visitors, the guard made sure to hide the booze.

F1: Hello.

7891: Uh-um, hello.

F3: We are looking to visit the place behind these walls.

7891: Sure. We don't get visits often, so pardon me if I get something wrong.

7891: *looking at clipboard* Let's see... Are you carrying any WMDs?

F3: Could you be more specific?

7891: Nerve agents?

F1: Yes.

7891: Biological agents?

F1: I do not think so.

7891: Um, nuclear material?

F3: Probably.

7891: Class III spellbooks?

F1: We are not carrying any books.

7891: *wipes sweat* Alright. Could you, ummm... Not bring those?

They are prohibited in here. A-and they will check your inventory anyways.

F3: We will consider it. Are any other items prohibited?

7891: Y-yes. Do you possess any firearms?

F1: Yes.

7891: Military vehi- oh wait, I think that's obvious.

Uh, bladed objects under eight inches?

F1&3: *tilts head*

7891: Twenty centimeters of length?

F3: Oh. No, not really.

7891: ABOVE twenty centimeters?

F1: Yes.

7891: Personal armor?

F1: Yes.

7891: Exotic plants or animals?

F1: Probably.

7891: Do you use any Class II or above spells?

F3: Could you explain?

7891: Well, things l-like summoning a fireball would be a class III...

F1: Yes.

7891: *Sweating profusely* A-alright.

There's a field that will disable them upon entering,

so mind that if you have some kind of enchanted valuables.

F1: Does that include imperial gold?

7891: N-no, I don't think so. You can still use it as currency if you have it.

F1: Anything else?

7891: I-I think that's enough.

You will have to get rid of all that if you want to enter.

I will also have to report-

F1: Could you not? *Hypnotic stare*

7891: ...S-sure. I didn't see anything at all. H-have a good day!

___________________________________________________________.

.____v____. |

|,#######'| JZ&G |

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

|# # | |

| ,# | |

> # ##, < # |

| # ' #| # __ |

| '# #| ### |__\ |

|____###'_| # # \__ Foxes got out of the Bradley. |

' ^ ' Then they dropped their gear, |

and entered. |

So dramatic! |

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Basically the car drove away with most of their stuff.

Now they only had their drysuits and backpacks (ain't no rule!).

They passed through a hundred-metre long tunnel

before reaching the other side of the wall.

F5 went to the intercom.

F5: Hey, mind calling us a cab?

7891: Y-yeah, no problem. W-where do you want to go?

F5: Dunno. Where is the emperor?

7891: Emperor?

F6: The most important person?

7891: Ah, y-you mean the representative, right?

Well, there are plenty of them, usually one per realm...

F3: Could you get us to the nearest one then?

7891: How are you talking through the same...? N-nevermind.

The land near his citadel is off-limits,

but I can leave you at a hotel near it.

F5: Alright. It better be good or I'll kick your ass.

The vixens and reynards got onto the long car. The trip took quite a while.

F2: So, how does this car run?

8959: I'm just a driver ma'am. For all I know, gas is added to the tank,

I turn a key, and it just works.

F2: Oh, alright.

F4: Hold on, what if your car breaks down?

8959: I call the mechanic like anyone else.

F4: And what if it is something really minor?

8959: Again, I'm no mechanic, so I just send the car to them.

F6: Wouldn't it be easier to do it yourself?

8959: Look. I'm already risking enough by driving a limousine,

and I ain't gonna mess with one of these steel beasts when there

are already a million things that could go wrong in my life.

If they get killed, that's a problem for their wives.

If *I* get killed, that's a problem for MY wife.

8959: And please don't keep asking questions, because I'm not a talker.

F5>4: *whispering* What a pussy...

The city itself was designed somewhat like DC:

With insane amounts of green grass,

streets arranged to form a P1 tiling for all

those pentagrams (and because screw logistics);

And very minimalistic buildings of either white marble or blue glass,

shaped like plain boxes with maybe a few windows for the white ones.

The earth (of foxes) exited the car upon arriving.

F6: It smells strange in here.

G: It's probably because they have to keep all that grass trimmed.

They entered the hotel and went to the counter.

F5: *puts gold coin on desk* We need your best room.

212: Um...

F5: *Another* Could this change your mind?

212: Sir-

F5: *Yet another* How about this?

212: Sir you're buying the entire hotel!

F3: Do you have some change then?

212: N-no...

F3: Oh, well.

Could you tell us where we can get more information on this city?

212: Yeah... I-I'll call Irwin. She should come in a few minutes.

F1: Thanks, lady.

212: Is it fine if I call my boss to do the paperwork?

F6: I'm starving.

F4: We are in a bit of a hurry.

212: Ok, I'll call Irwin first.

After a while, a rare in context, foxed, foxed, slightly foxed, foxed-looking,

definitely not foxy-looking, somewhat foxy-smelling fox-person appeared,

carrying a can of foxy foxed beer and wearing

shoes that probably needed some foxing.

I should probably stop messing with dictionaries.