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Chapter 056: Making Friends

Obviously (if I wasn’t stopped when going in by myself) nobody bothered us as we headed out of the building towards the parking lot. The only “interaction” was a knowing nod from the security located at various points on our walk with them seemingly not bothering to follow. Strange since I expected at least one to act as an escort but I suppose it wasn’t as if we were stepping off the property.

Plus it would be a little silly to leave his office unprotected.

Either way we soon found ourselves outside and under the last few hours of sun that the day had left to give before it fell to the darkness of night. I simply pointed towards the carriage as “mr.Green” headed over to begin inspecting it. Even if he was not a craftsmen; he had worked with carriages all his life.

What sort of merchant wouldn’t be able to notice something wrong with a vessel they own? Even I could deconstruct one of my surface to space missiles so obviously he should be able to do something similar with a far more rudimentary mode of transport. Some may think missiles aren’t a mode of transport but I simply call those sorts of cowards who are afraid of a little bit of adventure.

Other than my stealth jet - missiles are my most common mode of air transport. There is nothing quite as efficient when it comes to getting behind enemy lines without any kind of suspicion that they have been invaded in the first place. Nobody ever expects you to be hiding inside one of the missiles that appear to have missed their target; get them every single time!

Especially if I just tank the explosion instead of relying on any sort of especially high-tech method to prevent myself from getting hurt.

The heat is annoying but hardly that dangerous…

I do apparently have Phenex blood.

I mean have you heard my theme song in this game; that shit is straight up badass and constantly keeps talking about fire. Can’t be more on the nose than that. Kinda want to get into another fight just so I can hear my song blaring as I proceed to kick some ass like the badass I always knew I was. There was also that part about feeling as if I’m coming undone but I am chosing to tactically ignore that in favour of all the cool lines.

“Huh… Seems like they didn’t put much effort into maintaining the axles so at best it’ll need an oiling & scrub down hut at worst a full overhaul if there are any fractures due to loss of integrity.” Letting out a sight as he squatted down while turning essentially his entire body, while dripping the underside, so that he could catch a glimpse of the underside.

Sadly I knew from experience that such an overhaul on the inner workings can be quite costly yet a lot more money had gone into the appearance in this case. Plus with the level of engineering visible it shouldn’t be that hard to replace a metal bar that is made to spin. “Wheels are probably best to just replace them with something new but that isn’t a problem as we’re always doing that anyway.“

He said while standing up, placing an arm across his back as he stretched with a satisfying *crack* which likely came from hours of office work, before rubbing a symbol a little caked in dirt. Soon a glimmering symbol similar to what adorned the building behind us became clear. What was also obvious was that there was a number hidden on the underside.

“A serial number?” I asked - somewhat curious if the standards were similar to my line of work.

A serial number is something we assign to a batch of products in order to help us keep track of each one of them and is especially helpful when you need to track down who bought what. Allows us to easily notice dupes (even down to every bullet) by having an inhouse system for assigning them while also letting us see which weapon was part of what batch in case of manufacturing errors. Not that I allowed for errors.

It’s also a requirement by international law so it’s nice and easy to find anyone letting weapons trickle down to certain groups of undesirables. Of course only fools play by rules 100% of the time. You don’t win by playing fair and it’s easy enough to break the rules in your favour once you know how they’re enforced.

For his part the mercantile branch head momentarily paused at my question - seemingly confused at how I knew something like that - but quickly recovered. Showing a level of professionalism I could certainly appreciate even if we ran a completely different business; they were just a middle man while we were a manufacturer as well as military contractor. “Indeed, proves this is one of ours, but how do you know about something like that?”

“Quite common in my world but I’m also quite well acquainted since I run a little weapons manufacturing business back home; in fact this is a piece I personally designed.” Removing my revolver from my holster to proudly display to the merchant (with safety on). Making sure he knew how great I was.

“At such a young age?” His eyes widening showing the shock he no doubt felt; my pride nourished up as his eyes actually glimmered in astonishment. Not for a sake doubting me as I had already told some far taller tales that he could easily confirm if he wanted. “Well we can leave pleasantries for later… Honestly this is in as good a shape as I could have hoped after coming into possession by a group of bandits”

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Turning his attention towards the cammare (steroid camel) that had been leading the carriage all of this time; although it strangely didn’t seem very jazzed at the thought of staying with me. Wonder why? “This cammare is honestly the real prize since I can easily sell it off for, off the top of my head, maybe 124 KG even without a particular buyer in mind.”

Tapping his chin as I merely raised a brow as the high price made sense - monster-beasts were an expensive commodity as it required a lot of care to raise them so that they were obedient. It was also useful to know that G, or Gold Coins, was still the currency of the game. Their worth being approximately similar to that of a good old German mark.

“I’m thinking 110,000 Gold for both the carriage and beast; a new carriage would only cost like 1K but the time as well as profit that could have been gained should put this as admittedly great for us.” At least he was honest about his nickeling and dime’ing. Obviously realising that from my background I wasn’t going to get tricked by the “well it only costs x brand new” argument.

A business like this would likely easily bring more than 1K per-sale while a carriage like this could easily hold more than 10 per trip. Meanwhile a brand new carriage could take upwards of a year to build depending on what the market for materials and wait lists look like. Even in the unlikely case that the trip takes half a year, without accounting for incident or costs, it is easy to see the profit.

“Well it’s not like that’s an amount of money that really bothers either of us so let’s just consider this the beginning of a new friendship?” Gracing him with a smile that he returned in kind as I sheathed my gun in favour of offering a hand. A hand he readily accepted as we found ourselves at an agreement.

Taking no time to pull what I can only think of as a cheque book out of his inner pocket; quickly jotting down some figures before ripping it out. In turn I quickly placed it in my inventory which shocked him for a moment, a glimmer of what I can only call “a merchant's instincts” in his eye, as he quickly covered himself with a mask that few other than me could notice. Of course I noticed and that was why I revealed my inventory like this.

“So what will you be doing after this, a player like you must be rather busy whether here or back in your world of origin.” There we go. The question I was waiting for since we first met up; connections are the number one way to quickly gain power after all.

“I’ll be going to a place called…” Checking the note that I received from that very kind (and hot) blue haired woman to see the name of the establishment. “God Hunters since I was invited to join their little club by someone.”

Now his reaction was finally something I didn’t expect. Mr. mr.Green suddenly went pale, stumbling backwards in bafflement, struggling to find any words which resulted in him just flapping his gums for a few seconds until he adjusted his tie which was a common nervous tick in business. “I-I didn’t expect to be helped by someone of such high esteem as you; obviously your always welcome to ask for any help in the future!”

Suddenly becoming the submissive in this game of words as he whipped out a card covered in his credentials which was a clear sign.

A security seemed to have noticed his nervous disposition but he didn’t even get a chance to speak up as this rich merchant shoed the security away. Returning a happy smile to me while presenting the card with his body noticeably bowing toward me in a sign of respect. Making it obvious I’d need to hasten my visit to that place.

“Thank you for your hospitality and I hope for a long relationship.” Taking the card while not falling into the pithole that power often creates for people like me. We all have egos but it’s those who succeed in hiding it the longest that become the most popular.

Time to visit my new friend… Maybe with benefits?

I hope it’s with benefits.

Walking through the streets, as compared to getting a free ride, allowed me to finally take in how busy this city was. It certainly couldn’t compare to what I remembered from the undercity in my previous life - a term often used for the ground level of the mega-cities which had walkways acting like a new “floor” for those of higher and higher status. Often being at least 5 that had restrictions on access… That the wealthy could obviously just ignore.

There also was far less trash here than in the under cities - those from upper levels having no issues throwing stuff down below to the point entire building entrances could be blocked by trash. Compared to that this place was far closer to Heildeburg. An interesting mix of ancient and “modern” design (even if the modern was significantly behind my world) with new street lights every few feet.

It was… Refreshing.

Still, I soon reached my destination. It appeared to be a bar - far less openly extravagant than the merchant company of mr.Green - but managed to also appear far more dignified. A sleek black aesthetic with a metallic azure inlining which wasn’t noticeable yet also never too in your face. Above the door that was guarded by a knight with a skull-akin helm was a simple name on an aged but incredible well maintained plaque.

God Hunter Saloon.