The sleazy Senator looks a little more rotund than when I last saw him. At least this time, he’s dressed in a presentable suit…that’s two sizes too small. I can see the buttons straining to hold his shirt together. Also, patches of sweat under the armpits. Just to note.

He gives us an amenable smile. “Scarlet Sword! Silvernight! It’s so lovely to see you.” He gives us each a handshake, much to our disgust even though we both have gloves on.

Wilcox turns to his secretary. She has black hair, slightly ruffled; stern eyes that turn soft when looking towards Wilcox; a slightly shorter skirt than she should be wearing; and smells slightly of sex. Hmm… “Amanda, is my schedule free right now?”

She glares at us with the wrath of a dethroned god. “It is.” Her clipped sentence is good enough for Wilcox as he leads us into an empty office. It obviously isn’t his. His office should be in D.C.

In fact, I’m pretty sure this is the mayor’s office.

He sits down in the mayor’s chair, forcing it to creak. We sit down opposite him, almost as if we were the ones being interrogated.

Rose is having none of it, though. “Wilcox! Did you give four men Skill Stones?”

Wilcox has the audacity to look confused and hurt. “Skill Stones? Why, of course not. Even basic ones are still ridiculously expensive. Not something people would give away. It’s hard enough to find donors for skills as it is, and nobody wants to dive into dungeons for them anymore.”

Rose closes her eyes, crosses her arms, and taps her finger. “Wilcox, don’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying. Now. Tell me the truth.”

“Fine,” he spits. “Yes, I gave them Skill Stones. Experimental ones, might I add. They signed waivers and everything.”

“First off, they committed crimes with the stones, which, signed into federal law by you, means that you and everyone who ran the experiment can be tried for the same crimes. Second, what does experimental means?”

Wilcox doesn’t look pressured. Actually, he’s radiating confidence that, somehow despite evidence, he’ll come out on top. “It’s simple. When we make the stones, in a normal setting, the produced skill would be the base level or current level the donor has. The new method allows for us to get skills that are higher than the donor’s. With an exponentially higher amount of pain.”

Rose looks ready to blow a gasket, but I’m more confused. I lean over and whisper, “Rose, what does that mean?”

“It means,” she says at full volume, “that a lot of people are dying. Donating a skill already feels like you’re dying since it splinters off a piece of the soul. Anything worse will likely cause the donor to die of shock.”

Oh. That’s not good. That’s really not good.

This man was put in charge of the country? I mean, he’s one of a hundred, but that’s still power in his hands. Though, how is that different than any politician…ever?

Actually—

“Wilcox,” I begin with a smile similar to Rose, “do you remember the 65th President?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He looks a little confused, but answers me anyway. “Jack Corwright, correct? I don’t remember much else about him.”

Hmm. Time for a history lesson, then. “Jackson Corwright, the 65th President of the United States, was nicknamed Saucy Jack after the infamous Jack the Ripper. His term was plagued with a shockingly high death count. 62% of the country’s population died, and two-thirds of that 62% were suicides from the policies he enacted.”

Wilcox looks a little unnerved, but I continue. “The other third were murders or assassinations poorly disguised as suicides. For example, people that appear to have hung themselves with two bullet holes in the back of their heads. Those people were very vocal about criticizing his policies.”

I step closer. “Saucy Jack, or as the older generation called him, Sussy Jack, never finished his first term. Heart attack, well, it came out that it was a hero who induced the heart attack, so assassination. That hero suffered little repercussions, despite the force of the law pre-court cases and legislation, because…well, what do you do against someone that can kill you with a thought?”

Another step. “The next twelve presidents all decided to follow policies similar to Saucy Jack, and they each never finished their terms. Always being offed by a hero or villain.”

I’m almost in his face, over the desk. “Said heroes and villains also took it upon themselves to stabilize the economy, and country, after the tax increases, lowered wages, and massive inflation. Similar to Nixon’s stagflation.”

I’m an inch away, mask almost touching him. “Guess what else those presidents did?”

He is terrified. For once in his silver platter of a life, he has actually felt afraid. He thought he had the upper hand, but he doesn’t. No hidden guards, no blackmail, just us. And him. “W-What?” He’s whimpering.

I lean into his ear and whisper, “They took advantage of the lower classes. Whisked them away from any semblance of normalcy, if you get what I mean.” Judging by the smell of urea, I’d say he does.

I sit back down and Rose pats me on the back. “Now, be a good boy, Wilcox, and confess what you did to the people.

He nods furiously, gets up, and practically sprints from the Mayor’s office. He left a piss trail, though.

Rose activates the PA system on his desk. “Can somebody please clean and/or replace some of the furniture in the Mayor’s office? An animal went to the bathroom on it.”

We turn to leave, and I finally acknowledge the notification out of the corner of my eye.

[ Through repeated actions skill: Synaptic Coercion(Minimum, Active) has ranked up to Synaptic Coercion(Minor, Active) ]

[ Through repeated actions skill: Synaptic Coercion(Minor, Active) has ranked up to Synaptic Coercion(Medium, Active) ]

Apparently, I don’t even need to talk to someone to make them do something. Clairvoyance, in all of its glory, allows me to send non-verbal instructions. Even just images or feelings work too.

Secondly, I can induce emotion, such as fear. Using this, I could strike primal terror into Wilcox’s heart, and induce him to feel invigorated in confessing the truth, maybe have him feel a twinge of guilt.

Thirdly, I’m really glad I had an enthusiastic history teacher that showed us the death charts of President Corwright. It really stuck with me, as one might be able to tell.

————————————————————————————————————

Today, I decided to relax somewhat.

Yesterday, Rose and I had gone out and basically completed an entire investigation, pulling every legal card we had in the process, including the paperwork which we filled out the important stuff for, then set the rest in Hyper Thunder’s To Do box.

You know, because he wanted to be a part of it, too.

…I feel an office war on the horizon.

Anyway, back to today, I’m just sitting in Sophia’s office. Her spiderling is, for once, not staring at me unblinking, but rather at my phone. The reason she—I checked the spider’s gender with Sophia—has its eyes glued to my phone is actually because of Wilcox.

He’s announced an emergency meeting.

The newscaster is doing some introductory bit, but I’m waiting for the juicy stuff: the confession. I just hope it goes well.

“—and here he is now!” The camera pans over to Wilcox standing at the podium in front of city hall. He looks…calm. Resolute. Cleaned up, one might say. He drums his fingers on the polished wood before making direct eye contact with the camera.

“People of New York State,” he calmly says, “I have been dishonest with my actions. You, as a people, elected me to be a representative, though not of the House, in your ideals. I took that trust you placed in me, and I crushed it under my heel. For the past year, I have lied, cheated, and done whatever I could to get my way. This includes kidnapping, assault, and blackmail of innocent people—husbands, wives, sons, daughters…et cetera. I even attempted to kidnap Dr. Archimedes’s daughter, and, just recently, I have tortured many unwilling people, without remorse, to create a special type of Skill Stone. I then knowingly gave these stones to depraved people who then did depraved things to this city. I am accomplice. I know that. And over the last twelve hours, I have come to terms with my actions.”

What? Is everything he just spouted a lie then? Maybe I should’ve made him feel more guilt.

“I have decided”—he reaches under the podium—“that this city—no, this state—deserves a better person as Senator.” He pulls out a revolver. There’s only one cartridge in it. Oh no. No, no, no. I—Uh… I— I screwed up. Fuck. Oh, fuck it all!

What do I do? I— I don’t want to see this…but…my eyes are glued to the screen. The consequences of my actions. The guilt I forced him to feel. Fuck. People are screaming. The crowd, I think.

“Goodbye.” Wilcox puts the gun to his temple and closes his eyes.

*BANG!*

The bullet…went the wrong direction. Blood is leaking from the front of his forehead, not the temple. Also…his brains just got splattered on live television. It’s…partially my fault? He was about to kill himself. I—I need to calm down.

Breathe. Breathe. Okay.

I think—I think he was just assassinated.

[ You have killed a level 1 “Human” x 1. 1 experience point gained. ]

What. Did I— Did I get assistance experience from him?