Novels2Search

Chapter Twenty Three

Kenji stopped for a moment. “Oh, wow, I am kind of really hungry. How long have we been at this?”

Kragathor shrugged. “Less than a day. Would you like some food?”

“Um, yeah, if you don’t mind.”

A few moments later, a bowl of hearty stew and a warm loaf of bread appeared on the table in front of Kenji, along with a mug filled with a liquid that smelled of apples and alcohol. “This is a popular dish in Deep Town’s busiest establishment. I hope it is adequate.”

“Um, thanks.” Then under his breath he murmured to himself, “Itadakimasu.”

Kragathor turned his attention back to the obelisks while Kenji ate.

Kenji, rather nervous about the company he was presently in, ate with the best table manners he could. The bread and stew were simple, but surprisingly good. He washed it down with the cider, which was much bubblier than he’d expected. After he polished off the last of the food, he made himself presentable again. “Thank you for waiting.”

Why are you thanking him? He kidnapped you and stole your entire company. Literally. He killed your friend! Kenji forced down that line of thought and self-recrimination. I am only doing this to survive. I am only doing this to survive. He repeated that thought like a mantra, trying to alleviate the sense of guilt and shame. It didn’t help that talking about his life before and his early years felt strangely therapeutic, like he was unburdening himself to someone who wouldn’t judge him, who was merely listening in order to hear the story told. After all, why would such a powerful being bother to judge someone like him? This story was probably nothing more than a data point to Kragathor, to be filed away and forgotten as another interesting bit of trivia amongst billions of others.

“Please, do continue.”

“Right. So, anyway, I was thinking to myself that we should start up a corporation. The closest things you find here are merchant companies and the houses of the Merchant Nobles. I wanted to create a corporation that would change the face of this world. Bring it together. The core of that corporation would be my friends and myself. Old Lock decided not to join in, said he was too old for something so grand. Levy did, though. As did Talon, Stefano and Randell.

“The name was my idea, although that didn’t come about for a bit. But the idea was mine, which was, I guess, my role. I gave the ideas. The others saw them out. We tossed around a bunch of possibilities. Planned them out. We made so many plans. Communications networks. Media. Instantaneous information sharing. Entertainment networks. Things to unite the world. But first we needed something widespread, that would get people to trust our name. Something we could sell for a reasonable price with enough appeal that it would quickly spread. So, I told them about the video games of my world. And as I did so, I recalled the new generation of games that had just been starting to see the light of day, despite being predicted and written about for years, called VRMMO games. Only, in my world it had a somewhat different meaning.

“As I thought about how to make an immersive experience, whole new virtual worlds, I recalled my early experiments. All those other worlds that I had spied on. And there, the real idea was born.

“We started those experiments back up, searched out worlds filled with violence and turbulence, chaos and uncertainty. After all, who wants to explore a peaceful world? Then we designed a system for projecting avatars into those worlds while remaining in our own. Created a way to interact with those worlds using our magic. Interestingly, we indirectly confirmed Randell’s guess about why I couldn’t incant spells. An object or being from a magical land maintains its magic, even in a land without. The opposite is also true.

“So, we made sure the avatars did not have the ability to use magic other than that which was granted to it by the system, even though the avatars themselves are inherently magical manifestations. That was actually one of the trickiest things about that whole process. We designed for each world a system of classes, skills and abilities. We clandestinely recruited people from those worlds to help us understand them and fine tune the player systems to mesh with their world, trading them gold or other things of value. Then we sent in our early testers. Gave these worlds a glimpse of what our people could do. Made arrangements with the powers that be. We fine-tuned our systems and released the Virmo crystals to the public. Randell —bless that beautiful bastard— took a concept I had told him about long ago, viral marketing, and managed to implement it in a world without universal media. Seeded people in taverns across major cities to spread rumors about it. People were already clamoring for the Virmo units the very day of release.

“Right off the bat, we were selling like crazy. We sold the Virmo units for a modest fee and make our real profit in trade from these worlds, importing materials. Meanwhile, they benefit from our players, who act as adventurers, mercenaries, hunters, and delvers of dungeons, incapable of permanent death. It was to be the beginning of a corporate empire that would change the face of this world, and many beyond it. Hopefully for the better. I was hoping to create something that would spread to hundreds, thousands, or even millions of disparate worlds.

“Well, those were the plans, anyways. In retrospect, there were cracks in the foundation, and division was beginning to show among those of us who founded the company. Maybe I neglected my friendship with Randell in favor of Stefano, and that’s what led to this whole mess. Maybe I should have listened more to Levy’s concerns of operational security — concepts I introduced to her, or less to Talon’s worries of gold and profit.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

He sighed. “I suppose those ambitions are gone now.”

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Kragathor listened to Kenji’s story, his past and his ambitions for the future. He was a rather fascinating specimen. His ambitions were far less short-sighted than he would expect of a mortal.

“I suppose those ambitions are gone now.” Kenji looked down, his shoulders slumped, seemingly defeated.

“Not necessarily.” Kragathor’s comment elicited a slight twitch. “Your ideas intrigue me. Even one such as I have not envisioned conquering other worlds, through force, commerce or otherwise. I had no familiarity with such a concept until I encountered your games. I find the idea a sound one, with but one flaw. You have not the time to carry out such a grand plan and see it to its conclusion. You are but a mortal. A brief spark amongst millions of others, no matter how you outshine them. Your span is finite.

“But it need not be.” The scaly red figure gestured toward the table, drawing Kenji’s eyes to a parchment that had not been there moments ago. “You are a rare talent. And I am nothing if not a collector of rare things. To be able to add entire realities to my collection is a thing that I never even knew to want. Enter my employ. Continue to carry out your ambitions, stretching your reach farther than any imagination can grasp. You may yet find your way home, if you still wish to do so. I will guarantee your health and well-being until you choose to leave, whether it be an hour from now or a hundred thousand years.

“You have delivered to me the gift of novelty. A thing I once thought long gone from my life. I am not ungrateful. I offer you the chance to continue your ambitions and see them to their fruition. I offer power, status, and as many years as you wish to see. All I ask in return is to be entertained. Even now, you have the means to see to that for a good while, as one of your limited temporal view would see it.”

Kenji stared wide-eyed at Kragathor, as if a new bout of fear had taken hold of him. “And if I refuse?”

Kragathor shrugged. “Then you are no concern of mine. I will allow you to depart in peace, and I will still remain here for eons after your bones have turned to dust.”

“And what about my employees, and my friends?”

“They are mine. I have claimed them. You as well, but I give you choice, because creativity is often hampered when coerced. I don’t need their creativity. They are just to continue operating the company as is. However, I am not needlessly cruel. They will still have their freedom to do as they wish when they are not working.”

“And what gives you the right to just claim them like that?”

The dragon looked up and appeared to be fighting back laughter. “Right? What is a right and why would I need one? I can either do it or I cannot. I did it. Only one defied my claim, and he was insufficient to stop me from exercising my claim. Were I to desire a kingdom on the surface, I would simply do the same. That I offer you a choice is only because I foresee that your willing cooperation could someday lead to something that I am unable to conceptualize, and such an idea excites me greatly. And if I cannot have that, then you cease to be of consequence to me.

“Besides, it is not as if your friends here will be treated poorly. I have created my own subterranean kingdom here, somewhat inadvertently. Deep Thousand itself is no longer much beyond an amusement, a means of entertainment for the citizens of Deep Town and myself and even the so-called adventurers who throw themselves at it with more enthusiasm than skill. My little kingdom is prosperous. None want for anything that they cannot achieve. Luxuries are earned through work, and they all do love their luxuries. None starve or go without a home. Crime is rare and, to my understanding, harshly dealt with.

“You know, with Deep Thousand no longer serving much of a purpose, I might as well reveal this nation to the world. Especially now that we are home to such an illustrious company. I suppose I might need to claim Millen as well.”

Kenji stared incredulously as Kragathor calmly mused about annexing an entire city and changing the geopolitical landscape of the world.

Kragathor watched Kenji as he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

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Kenji beat his fears back down as Kragathor made his offer, and even spoke of opening his nation up to the world. The imagery before him though still made him incredibly anxious and wary. Sure, Kragathor didn’t quite look like the popular portrayal of a demon or devil, but it was close enough. The contract, the crimson scales, the tail, claws and even horns —which weren’t devil’s horns or even ram’s horns at all and more like serrated bone knives but were still horns— all were reminiscent of the concept from his old world of a deal with a devil. A bargain with an ancient power of ambiguous morality. A contract with the creature who killed his friend.

By all means, he should reject it and flee from this place. That would be the smart thing to do. Flee and never look back. Maybe even flee to another reality entirely. He could do that now. But…

But Kenji couldn’t help but feel enticed by the offer. Here, right now, before him lay the means to gain everything he had originally thought he’d find in this world, at last.

Well, he had eventually managed to acquire most of it through his own efforts, except for overpowering combat abilities and a harem. There was no hope of the former, and he’d been too caught up in things to even chase after a relationship with one woman, much less multiple women. Really, he’d always thought of that concept as more of a joke anyways. Not even something worth seriously considering if obtainable. He just wasn’t that kind of guy.

He could always refuse the deal, leave and start over. He was only in his early thirties. His thirties… Well, he debunked the thing about becoming a wizard at thirty… Or did he? Was an enchanter a wizard? Even if he didn’t do enchanting on his own?

Kenji banished those stray thoughts from his head. Clearly, he was having a difficult time thinking straight. Maybe that’s why he was seriously considering the offer. Even if it was a betrayal of Randell. But hadn’t he already betrayed Randell before all this? He’d neglected his friend with the excuse of being focused on the company, listened more to Stefano just because he reminded him of his father. Maybe with Kragathor’s help he could one day find some way to go back and right things. Anything seemed possible with magic and the dragon’s overwhelming might and vast intellect.

He closed his eyes and thought hard.

Could he?

Should he?

Could he afford not to?

I’m sorry, Randell.

“Okay. I’ll do it.” Even filled with regret over betraying the memory of his friend who was dead less than a day, he was brimming with excitement. And he hated himself for it.