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CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Breakfast Club
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The sun was still in its waking phase when Bram, Rowan, and their otherworlder guests started their meeting at the Journey’s Respite while enjoying a high-class breakfast prepared for them by the inn’s cook, a big-boned woman named Madam Bertha, who, despite Bram’s red hair, tinted spectacles, and easy smile, figured out his secret; he was a noble pretending to be a commoner bard.
She didn’t know exactly who Bram was, but that part didn’t matter. In a way, all nobles were alike; they were all eccentric, and Bram the Bard certainly fit the bill.
To her credit, the frizzy-haired wife of the inn’s proprietor kept her mouth shut about Bram’s status as she led his party to a secluded bar corner. After promising them “A scrumptious meal and all the privacy you require, good ser,” Bertha was off to the kitchens to keep her word—and she did.
Bram, whose palette was quite refined, had no complaints about the dish of ‘Rouladen’ set before him. Indeed, he could argue that the bacon wrapped in a thin slice of beef he’d just sampled rivaled the one his bastion’s cook usually made for him. Bram might even claim Bertha’s Rouladen, which she’d paired with a side dish of piping hot mashed potatoes laden in thick gravé, seemed more flavorful than his usual meal. To be fair to his bastion’s kitchen though, the company gathered around this table might also have something to do with why the food tasted so good.
With a veiled smile, Atlan’s seventh prince observed his new companions jostling each other like the old friends they were while enjoying their first taste of Aarde’s dining scene. It wasn’t lost on Bram either that this was his first time at breakfast with people who weren’t forced to sit down and dine with him. It was a nice feeling.
Cool fingers brushed against his hand, and Bram turned sideways to find Rowan giving him a curious look.
“Try this.” As if she’d read his mind—the longing to have companions he could fool around with—she deftly drove a piece of her spearfish into his mouth. “Well?”
“Spicy,” he said, chewing it some more, before adding, “with a hint of lemon…and is that…paprikash?”
“Impressive,” she smiled. “Good, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he smiled back. “Quite.”
It was a second or two later when Bram noticed the stares. He glanced in their direction and watched as all three otherworlders looked away with faces frozen in sheepish expressions. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of them seeing Rowan feeding him from her plate caused him to blush, and he was suddenly desperate to change topics.
“So, shall we begin?” he urged.
A while later, once the explanations of the great undertaking were finished—the scale of it causing even the cool Bridget to pale slightly—Rowan brought out the can of soda she’d hidden.
“You didn’t drink it yet?” Bram asked, surprised.
“I was waiting for you,” she answered, adding, “Shall we see what all the fuss is about?”
At Hajime’s behest, and to the amazement of Bridget and Chris—whose eyes widened at every hint of magic they witnessed—Rowan cast a simple ‘Cold Touch’ spell that chilled the soda can to the perfect drinking temperature. Then she and her prince were treated to a delight of the senses neither of them expected. They had both taken a swig of soda and thoroughly enjoyed the crisp vanilla-like flavor on their tongues to the point that Bram declared ‘soda’ would be one of Earth’s first products to be exported into Lotharin.
“As much as I enjoyed its taste, bringing more of this soda to Aarde may prove challenging. It took two red grizzlies to empower the ritual that brought it to us,” Rowan reminded him.
The implications of her words weren’t lost on him.
The population of fel beasts in Gaullia was plentiful, and with many such creatures labeled as menaces throughout the Imperium, Bram had a resource for summoning more otherworlders. Still, this abundance didn’t mean an infinite supply, and the prince was loathe to waste finite resources on a beverage. It seemed too excessive. He didn’t need to mention that such an endeavor would draw the gods’ gazes back on them. They may let it slide once, but twice—surely, the pantheon of High Heaven wasn’t that lazy.
“It might not be too hard to make soda locally,” Chris piped up, adding, “Y’all probably have similar ingredients to the ones we need.”
“That may be true, but how would we achieve the bubbles effect in the sweet brown water?” Rowan asked curiously.
“Y’all might get a kick out of this one.” Chris glanced at the blonde sitting to his right. “Tell her, Bridge.”
Of course, the Texan would turn to the writer who enjoyed researching the backstories of even mundane items like soda to explain its making to the Aarders, and Bridget didn’t disappoint. She explained that the ‘bubbles’ in the soda were made by exposing a solution of ‘sweet brown water’ to high-pressure carbon dioxide, which, if continually stored under high pressure, would stay dissolved in water until its container was popped open.
“Fizz happens when the CO2 comes out of the water after the pressure’s been released. That’s how we make carbonated drinks,” Bridget finished.
“To use a part of the air we breathe to create a taste that could rival even the nectar of the gods…” Awe filled Rowan’s expression. “How ingenious this Earth science is… I wish to learn more about it.”
“Now we know what we’ll be sending over here next time,” Chris chuckled.
“A tablet full of first to twelfth-grade science books?” Hajime guessed.
“I was thinking more of back-to-back seasons of Billy and Nighy, the Science Guys,” Chris proposed.
Rowan’s eyes were alight with interest. “These Billy and Nighy…I assume they are the greatest of your science sorcerers?”
“We call them scientists,” Bridget replied, prompting a new discussion on Earth’s version of sorcerers to begin.
Listening to them speak of their world with Rowan and watching her praise their otherworldly wisdom caused the ever-present weight on Bram’s shoulders to lighten slightly because here was proof that his plan might not be completely insane. Their otherworldly knowledge would be essential in elevating Lotharin’s status to the top of the Imperium’s twelve kingdoms. Though in truth, Bram’s interests lay less in these scientists who fascinated Rowan and more with those other experts who could make his refined taste buds crave more otherworldly delights.
“Soda’s only the beginning…we’ll seek out these artisans of Earth who can bring revolution to the kingdom’s cooking.” As inspiration lit up inside his brain, Bram’s mind couldn’t help but turn its cogs. “Such experts bringing new flavors to Lotharin will mean a demand for ingredients, increasing the need for food production, meaning the building of more farms and more jobs working those farms… That could create a profitable food trade to rival even the Plains Kingdom of Navarra.”
“It’d be awesome if Earthers also benefited from your increased GDP,” said Chris, the former executive producer of a triple-A game studio. “Supposing trade between Earth and Aarde is possible?”
“You wish to send an item of Aarde to Earth similar to how your soda arrived here?” Rowan deduced.
“In a nutshell,” Chris agreed.
“Sadly, that isn’t possible,” Rowan answered.
She said it so definitively that even Bram couldn’t help but ask her to elaborate.
So, Rowan explained that it would be impossible to send physical objects to Earth because it was a world without magic and therefore possessed no means to keep an interdimensional portal open from that side long enough to send something through.
“It might have been different during an earlier age but no longer.” Rowan’s face turned contemplative. “Of what you’ve told me of your science, the technology born of it is often harmful to your world’s environment…”
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She waited for them to confirm before continuing.
“Nature is the source of all magic. Its vitality gives birth to the magical energies that flow through all living things,” she lectured. “So long as that vitality isn’t diminished, then Aarde’s magic will continue to flourish.”
“Meaning we Earthers fucked up our chance to learn magic when we started making a mess of our world,” Chris deduced.
“Global warming sucks,” Hajime agreed.
“There used to be plenty of tales about magic in the times before the industrial revolution started. Maybe there was some truth to those old stories,” Bridget piped up. Then, in a sadder tone, she added, “These days, that’s all magic is to us — stories…”
Noticing the gloom in the otherworlders’ expressions, Bram couldn’t help feeling disheartened himself. He’d aspired to visit the other world too—to experience its wonder beyond his dreaming—and he lamented that he wouldn’t get the chance.
Rowan’s big reveal exposed a new problem too; if they could only send items from Earth to Aarde, how could the Aarders invest in building a game studio on Earth?
This wasn’t their only money concern either.
There was a second issue, one Bridget called, “Real Money Trading.”
While sipping a glass of properly chilled Valenosian wine, Bram asked, “How is this different from an investment of funds?”
“It’s not the same, um, Boss,” said Chris, who looked uncertainly at the young man who’d proposed the outlandish idea to him and Bridget. “In Earth-speak, an investment is you pouring your money into our business hoping to get a solid financial return in the future…”
“A return of many souls to aid us in our scheming,” Rowan suggested.
“Exactly, but real money trading’s a bit different.” Chris finished savoring a slice of medium-rare tri-horn boar steak before adding, “Real money trading, or RMTs for short, is what we call player-to-player or player-to-game monetary exchanges like a player selling an item in-game to other players using hard cash or buying loot boxes directly from the game’s publisher with digital currency.”
“Eto, Chris-senpai, we shouldn’t do loot boxes,” Hajime interrupted quickly. “Loot boxes are money-grubbing forms of live service… They’re exploitative and tricky, prone to ruining games…or lives.”
“Tricky?” Rowan’s ears perked up. “Explain.”
“It’s not a good trick, Rowan-sama.” Hajime’s fork stabbed his sausage with a relish that suggested he was stabbing something else in his mind. “I admit that they add an interesting layer to a game’s structure if done right, but that’s usually not the case. In this era of live service content, loot boxes are now a corporate scheme forced upon studios to steal more money from players who already pay full price to buy our games.”
Thus began Hajime’s long rant on how the suits in charge of the money were godless people who only worshipped on the altar of greed. His rant was so long that by the time he wound down the large bowl of blue potato soup in the middle of the table had lost much of its heat.
“…Just remembering how they wanted to slash content and repackage it as DLC makes me wish I could cast magic back home and pulverize that stupid speakerphone,” Hajime finished, his nostrils flaring in satisfaction.
“Maybe drop a fireball over Corporate’s head office?” Bridget chimed in.
“Hai…” A dark look passed over Hajime’s face. “I can’t stand greedy people who exploit our creations just to squeeze our players dry.”
“Neither could I,” Bram said.
The Japanese man and the prince grinned at each other from across the table. Chris, who’d caught their show of camaraderie against greed chuckled loudly.
“Y’all get that we’re”—Chris pointed his finger at the people around the table—“technically corporate now, and Bram and Rowan are our new overlords.”
Hajime couldn’t seem to repress the shiver the Texan’s words instilled.
“Besides, debating about the pros and cons of a loot crate system is moot unless we can fix the money issue,” Chris pointed out.
“Investments and RMTs.” Bridget glanced gloomily around their corner of the bar. “It’s like we’re back inside a Biosoft boardroom…”
“How pressing of an issue is this?” Rowan asked.
“If we don’t get cash from y’all, then we’ll have to look for third-party investors on Earth to help set up our new studio,” Chris began, to which Hajime added, “We shouldn’t trust third-party investors. Their goals won’t be the same as ours.”
“Yes,” Bram agreed, adding “I shared the Loom with you three because we found you worthy of the great undertaking… I don’t wish to involve anyone else in our schemes. Not yet.”
“Ditto, Boss,” Chris nodded. “Now, as for RMTs, we’ll need them later because they’re the kind of thing that builds an in-game economy that’ll bleed out into real life, ensuring that our game becomes relevant on Earth.”
“Building a proper in-game economy for the players also extends a game’s lifespan,” Bridget chimed in, while Hajime added, “With RMTs set up, even top-tier Earth companies will want to work with us to sell digital products inside our game.”
Listening to them talk of this, it seemed like this real-money-trading experience could truly be beneficial for both worlds’ economies. Sadly, without a realistic way to send griffins and their Earth equivalent across two worlds, there was no way to benefit from this opportunity.
That’s when Bram had a thought.
“Does it have to be a physical exchange…?”
Gazes around the table turned toward him.
“What do you mean?” Hajime asked.
“Surely a civilization as advanced as Earth is familiar with banking, and if you have banks, then you must have ‘Promissory Notes’ that allow you to store griffins in one bank’s branch to claim the same amount from another branch in a different place,” Bram explained.
“We do have banks,” Bridget replied, “but we don’t need a promissory note for exchanging money… We use our banking apps.”
“Sugoi…I get it.” Hajime’s eyes lit up with sudden understanding. “Bram-sama…you want to use the Loom, yes?”
Bram grinned. “Why can’t we?”
Silence.
Then, one by one, a candlelight ignited in each of their brains.
They’d already proven that the Loom could bridge the gap between worlds because Rowan had grafted the system onto the otherworlders’ souls and Hajime proved the bond couldn’t be broken despite the journey between worlds.
“Is it possible?” Chris asked.
“Though your physical bodies cannot achieve the abilities you gain through the Loom, your experience on Aarde is weaved within the fabric of your souls, allowing you to remember with clarity the memories you earn here,” Rowan explained, further adding, “It stands to reason that information can be passed between both worlds using your souls as a conduit.”
The trickster turned contemplative while she took a sip of wine.
Bram watched as Rowan’s nose scrunched up just like it had when they were here last, and she’d tried the cheap port wine they’d been given. But if even the taste of expensive Valenosian wine wasn’t to her liking, Bram guessed that Rowan might not have the same appreciation for alcohol that most nobles did. It was one more interesting thing he learned about her.
“‘Tis not inconceivable for your bodies to inherit some of the skills you attain on Aarde,” Rowan conceded, but adding, “Nothing so great as spell crafting — your world lacks the magic to allow this boon — but perhaps a more dexterous hand from learning swordplay or better aim and judgment of distance from mastering archery.”
“Lord almighty,” Chris breathed, “that would be something, ain’t it?”
Bridget and Hajime nodded.
“If it were possible to inherit skills,” Bridget’s face scrunched up in contemplation, “then we could advertise the game as an alternative training ground for athletes.”
“Not just for polishing their skills either…” Hajime took up the baton of inspiration. “Athletes from all over the world could choose to train in optimal environments they won’t find anywhere else…”
“Why stop at training?” Chris pointed his steak-skewering fork at Hajime. “We could host the Olympics on Aarde!”
“We don’t need to host the Olympics,” Bridget cut in. “We could just make our own world-class competition — one with swords and sorcery as a main event!”
“Hot damn that sounds like a plan!” Chris agreed right before eating the piece of meat dangling from his fork.
Stars danced across the eyes of all three otherworlders, and it would be a while before their enthusiasm for hosting athletic competitions in-game died down. Afterward, the discussion returned to the possibility of using the Loom as a tool for monetary exchanges.
“Bram-sama isn’t wrong.” Hajime sipped his elderberry tea. “If the Loom can interact with the system of a Visionary Two like we think it can, then it should also be able to interact with an ATM or a banking app.”
“Why don’t we just ask it?” Bridget suggested.
So, they did…and the Loom gave them an interesting reply.
ALERT! Setting up a currency exchange between Aarde and Earth is possible, but physical access will be required to establish a connection with [Earth] banking systems.
“Physical,” Chris repeated, to which Bridget continued, “Access…?”
ALERT! Access to the bank account of [Bridget Fowling] is required.
“Whoa, hold on there,” Bridget pulled away from the floating blue window. “At least take me out to dinner before you take my money!”
“Eh…?”
Lucky for Hajime, Bram was the only one who noticed his look of surprise, including the longing clear on the otherworlder’s face. Unfortunately for Hajime, Bram now knew that he liked Bridget, and the prince was the kind who stored such intriguing information for use on a rainy day.
“Hey, Loom, can y’all clarify?” Chris prompted.
ALERT! With the system’s connection to [Bridget Fowling], she can become the delivery system that allows the Loom to integrate directly with Earth’s banking system. This interaction will lead to the creation of a new [Finance] tool.
“So, it would be as simple as Bridge logging into her bank account through a digital app?” Chris deduced.
“Like a computer virus hacking Bridget-san’s bank for access,” Hajime added.
[…] was the Loom’s only response to being called a virus.
“Does it have to be my bank account?” Bridget asked.
“Nah.” Chris shook his head. “Let’s hold off on bank accounts for now… I’ve got a different suggestion… We’ll use cryptocurrency.”
Rowan, who’d been sipping on the tea that had replaced her wine, looked up from her cup intrigued. “What is crypto…currency?”
“It’s kind of like digital money that we can exchange for real money, but ones the government can’t track outright,” Chris answered.
“Oh,” Bridget beamed at him, “that might solve the tax issue too. At least for now.”
Once it was decided that Chris would handle integration on Earth for investments, the team enjoyed the rest of their meal while getting to know one another.
“We should complete this task as quickly as possible… I plan to set out on a trip north soon,” Bram said, and with an impish smile to mirror Rowan’s, added, “And I’d like to take you all with me on this next adventure.”
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*Rouladen – Rouladen is a classic German food of tender steak, seasoned with mustard, onion, and paprika wrapped in pickle or bacon slices and served with pan gravy.