David D. Chestermill
The fucking brat. All buddy-buddy with Mr Tyrell now.
Being replaced stung. Being replaced because the alternative was objectively better stung even more. David knew he wasn’t really being replaced, but it sure felt like it when Michael had told him he would be using Mr Tyrell’s contacts to acquire more weapons.
David could do nothing but agree with the boy. When Michael left, the old man finally allowed himself to slump into his chair, feeling the slight dull throb of a headache forming. The temporary office was barren and dusty, and not the good dusty like his pawn shop, and he could hear his hired secretary typing away in the next room. For a moment his thoughts settled on the fact that Mustang, of all people, was running the pawn shop these days. David wondered how long it would be before the incompetent appraiser ran it to the ground.
Whatever. The problem with Travis Tyrell was that he really was adamant about helping them. Ever since he went helldiving, as he took to calling the dungeon runs, he had come out changed.
Now he wanted to help them. And he was doing it with a drive, a motivation and an amount of resources that were obscene to think about. Nothing in David’s old life of not-really-crime could come close to that. And to add insult to injury, the CEO claimed that he was only moving a very minute amount of resources at the moment, while he tried to free up more money and connections to be used without the rest of his company’s board sticking their noses into their business.
David wondered if that was true, and if Travis could ever bring to bear the full power of his company without being fired as a CEO. Probably not, but soon enough it won’t be a problem anymore, if their plans proceeded well.
Regardless, he could feel his power and sway being eroded one little piece after the other. What use would he be, after all, compared to a CEO of Mr Tyrell’s caliber? The law of the market was clear: if he wanted to keep Michael around, he needed to have something to offer that the boy desperately needed or wanted. That’s how David operated, because that was how the world operated.
Which meant that he had to step up his game. He needed to put in work. What he could provide Michael, he would provide. He would exceed expectations, plan ahead, prepare contingencies. He would pamper Michael a bit, and perhaps his behavior would even undo some of the lessons David was trying to teach to the boy, but he needed to be strategic.
If teaching the lessons alienated Michael, making him rely on Mr Tryell, then the lessons had to go. If, on the other hand, the lessons had the outcome of making the boy see him as a mentor figure he could trust, then they would stay.
Bob, the driver, had been one such instance of David’s ability to plan ahead bearing fruit. Michael had sent David a message earlier, thanking him for assigning him someone who was much more than just a driver. Someone who, most importantly, could be trusted. It just was that Michael had no idea what David had done to make sure Bob could be trusted.
Sure, Travis had been the one to find Robert. But Dave had been the one to make the man into a loyal employee who would never betray his employer, and that’s what mattered in his competition with the CEO.
He had shown Bob a glimpse of the new world order they were building. David wasn’t sure Michael would agree with his methods. But David had mitigated the risks as well as he could.
The law of the market. If David wanted a loyal workforce, he couldn’t have it by threatening them. Nor by simply paying them. He had to figure out what each of them wanted, what they truly wanted, and then he had to find a way to give it to them.
If they behaved. If they performed above and beyond standards.
It just so happened that Bob had a dear auntie with chronic joint pain. Ordinarily David would have ignored such information, but the men he hired to gather information swore that Bob treated his aunt like his own mother, and that the giant of a man hated seeing the frail old woman suffer in pain every day.
David had been so flabbergasted he had even shamelessly used Mr Tyrell’s own men to double check. They were, loathe as he was to admit it, much better and more loyal than his contacts, as well as more thorough. The CEO knew how to cultivate loyal and competent people working for him, much as David was trying to do with Michael and their budding organization. One that would need a name soon.
To think that Bob feeds stray cats in his free time. He really has a bleeding heart under all those muscles.
David could use this. Give Bob money, and he would have an employee. Have a cat shelter built, staffed and ready for Bob to cuddle cats whenever he wanted, and of course offer to heal his auntie and he would have his gratitude. It would probably be cheaper in the long run too.
Then David’s phone chimed. A text message.
He sighed. It was from Travis. The CEO was earnest in his desire to work together, even though David knew he could offer little that the rich man could not, also faster and better. But, Mr Tyrell seemed to have understood that Michael saw the ‘Old Dave’ persona as a mentor figure, at least for now, and thus the CEO was being all nice to him.
The question was: would Travis try to replace him, or would they work together? There was enough pie for everyone to get their slice, but one did not become a CEO of a multinational corporation without being greedy.
With that in mind, David had his new secretary send him the documents and files about the plot of land they were purchasing. David had not let his ego get the best of him. No matter what he thought about Travis, he had set aside his doubts for the greater good of what they were doing and had asked the CEO for help before hiring the woman.
The secretary was even more of a critical asset than Bob was, in a position of utter power over their budding organization. She would soon be the one to handle many things, the nitty-gritty little details, able to see in the nooks and crannies of what they were doing. There was no way to keep a secret from her, and thus they had told her the truth. They had promised her benefits. A shitload of money. Healthcare in the form of magical healing for her and her family. Even pets. A car, a driver and access to Michael’s money so that she could take care of things without needing to ask.
The way she used the money would be monitored regularly, of course, but showing trust was a good way to earn trust. It had been what Travis had done with his company.
David perused the folder full of aerial images, satellite images, as well as a bunch of more technical surveys they had sent to the authority in charge of the land’s environmental cleanup.
Another folder contained plans and blueprints. The original plan was to have most of the buildings clustered close to the dungeon, but after careful deliberation Michael had decided not to expose normal people to magic for long periods of time. They just didn’t know what could happen, and the last thing they needed was for their employees to suddenly awaken as magically-abled individuals.
It just didn’t do to just give stuff for free like this.
If Michael could find a way to empower people without having them brave the depths of the dungeon, then he could control the resource and use it as leverage.
Building at the edge of the property was a good solution for now since, according to the boy, the expansion of the mana zone around the entrance to the dungeon was slowing down. It would be a long time before it reached the edge of his property unless it sped up again. Good news, David thought with a grin. It would give them time to plan.
As such, the main buildings were going to be close to the road. From there, the gravel road would connect them to the dungeon, making access easier to the authorized personnel though a checkpoint with armed guards.
Accessible but not wide open, suspicious but not outright problematic. Everyone not in the know would be told about the dangerous materials in the clean-up site, and a possible cover story was that they decided to build offices here because the hazardous materials made purchasing the land cheaper. The employees would be given free healthcare as long as they worked for the company, even access to the ‘nanomachines’ aka magical healing, making the idea of working next to potentially poisoned land more palatable than most other options for most people.
The plans were to build a warehouse to store things, machinery and eventually loot—Michael had mentioned wanting to try to extract materials from the dungeon— with reinforced walls and a secret underground, soundproofed and doubly reinforced basement where Michael could train his magic. He would have to go back and forth to replenish his mana close to the entrance to the dungeon as he trained or burn coins, but he said the hassle was worth it, especially after the gravel road was finished.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
David had made sure the boy understood just how important it was that he didn’t waste coins on training. Not when he could just walk to the dungeon and simply use his fancy manipulation skill to pull the mana to him.
Then there would be a huge parking lot for all the employees, with lots of security cameras and actual security guards stationed everywhere. Michael had insisted they put a lot of trees there to provide shade and offset the destruction of plant life from building the road, as well as because he liked greenery, so trees had been included in the design.
Then there was the office space proper. A tall, several-story building ready to accommodate their growing workforce. Next to it would be the research facility, but the plans for it were currently blank, as they had no idea what they would need to fill it with. They were trying to find scientists willing to work with them first, and they would hear their thoughts on how to shape the building.
Of course, most of this was still far in the future. One did not raise buildings in one day, not this far away from any decent town.
Thats when Michael surprised them all. Just use repurposed shipping containers, he had said, claiming he had seen something like that in a youtube video. The idea had a lot of merit. It wasn’t like they had a lot of people working for them yet, just Travis, David, their respective secretaries and security. It could work.
All they needed was power, internet and access to the road. They could have their containers placed by the road, close to the construction sites for their permanent offices, and that would take care of everything else. Sure, no electric or internet company was willing to provide them with cable all the way to their containers at a cost, but David concluded that they could easily afford the extra price. Just heal one more person. If there was something they needed to be stingy about it was magical coins, not cash.
They had ideas on how to save coins. Just spread the treatments over a few days instead of healing a person in one go—unless Michael could do it with a single mana pool, it was strictly necessary or the patient paid a hefty premium—and just go back to the dungeon to recharge.
Michael’s house was going to be yet another container, powered by a generator as the power line did not reach so far into the forest. He didn’t complain, saying that it couldn’t be worse than his current arrangement. He didn’t like the idea of having to rely on a generator, saying that it polluted the environment.
Silly boy. He had no problems driving around for hundreds of miles every day, but now he doesn’t like generators? Might as well buy some solar panels, David thought, keep the boy happy.
With the plans ready, it was time to get to work. There was no way to speed up the acquisition process now that it was started, the surveys and control underway. But David could start vetting potential personnel, checking who would be willing to work on their ‘project’. Most importantly, he needed to find people who they could trust. He checked a message from Travis and then saw another coming from Dr Kavins. Apparently the crazy doctor from the clinic had a bunch of equally crazy scientists willing to be vetted to see if they could work on this exciting thing Dr Kavins had teased them with.
Most of them would be medical scientists and doctors, filling up the empty parts of the clinic nicely. But others were physicists and engineers, mathematicians and… a philosopher? David would need to see just how far they were willing to go in their pursuit of knowledge. Scientists of that caliber were usually strange people who could not really be threatened. If they wanted to spill the secrets, they would. But they could be bought, and knowledge—or access to a source of it—was the currency.
Thinking they might need a more permanent solution sometime soon, David also started looking into buying the flat land on the other side of the road so that they could expand there. Already he was envisioning high-tech condos where the families of the people working for Michael were going to live, provided for free by the boy. That would put them into such a debt of gratitude towards him, that it would all but guarantee their loyalty. Add some more benefits and… David rubbed his hands. It was time to call Mr Tyrell and start planning their next stage.
***
Travis Tyrell, CEO of PetroLink Global
What is it that you’re doing? Travis thought as he pored over the document his underlings had prepared for him. What could be so important to make you disappear for days on end? Now, of all times?
Travis did not like Carmela. The Italian mob boss was an awful human being, and a bad influence on Michael. He just wanted her gone. Indeed, her strange behavior was good for him, it brought him close to his objective of ejecting her from Michael’s orbit.
His questions were simply professional curiosity. Why would someone act so strangely and against their own interests?
He leafed to the next page. Gruesome. But now I have one more piece.
Apparently there had been reinforcements from Italy tying her hands, and she had been forced to deal with them in a less than friendly manner.
We are not telling Michael about this until we know what the hell is going on. The kid’s not ready to handle it. But David is.
Indeed, contrary to what the other man was thinking, Travis was making no plans to replace David’s position as the boy’s mentor. He knew very well that he could not cover that role with his personality and goals. Besides, David was a useful helper, a good liaison between him and the boy, and one of the few people he knew could be trusted completely. He was smart, driven and… tall? He could think of no more descriptors, and moved on reminiscing.
Michael had told Travis about the incident that eventually set all the following events in motion. Not the whole story, not until he asked David about it and got approval to tell the whole truth, but despite Michael’s cute attempts at withholding information, Travis already knew what they were talking about. There had been a shootout, Carmela had been wounded and he had healed her.
Why had Michael been working for the mafia? Because, back then, David had no idea what the young man was really capable of. He was thinking of Michael as a nice little grunt to be put to work. Travis could not blame David, although it could have been a possible catastrophe.
Travis could blame Michael for being an idiot for accepting the jobs, and had voiced his concerns to David. The old man shrugged and simply said that the boy was stubborn, but he was learning. That, in the end, it had all worked out fine. He claimed that had Michael not been an idiot, they wouldn’t be here now.
After that Travis made sure the David understood how important it was that Michael actually learned. What was done was done, but now they needed to tread carefully. There were some rumors coming from high up that Travis did not like. Three-letter agencies were beginning to get wind of strange happenings around here.
For some reason, David seemed a bit less energetic about it than usual. But his lessons are one of the most important things for Michael right now. He needs to learn how the world works.
Anyway, after the shootout David had been called to the scene. After some awkward attempts at deflecting the truth, Michael had finally showed the old man what he was capable of. He even healed David up to health, doing the old man a much bigger favor than he could imagine.
David was literally rejuvenated by twenty years, at least according to what Dr Kavins had to say about him. Michael had no clue just what that meant for an old person. And all of it with the puny skills he had back then?
Travis made a note about really hammering into Michael’s head just how revolutionary his treatments could be for someone’s life. Forget the few millions he was charging to rich men with cancer. He could literally reverse aging.
He started composing a text while he leafed through the last pages of the report from his hired investigators. Not that he thought there would be anything there.
Wait.
Who is that young man? He leaned over the desk so quickly that his muscular frame knocked some of the more scattered papers to the floor.
They saw him come and go multiple times a day for a while. According to sources they found, this started happening roughly at the same time she went all silent on Michael.
There was a picture where she could be seen arguing with the young man. In the report, the mole his men had planted had reported hearing about strange things.
“That asshole was keeping it from me, from us!” was a fragment of conversation.
The rest of the conversation happened in private. The investigator seems to think that it was something in the middle between a negotiation and the young man making demands to her. In exchange for his services, perhaps?
A preliminary idea formed in his mind. If the young man was the powered individual, and if the asshole they were talking about was Michael, it was possible that the man was demanding that Carmela did not work with Michael if she wanted him to work for her. That she chose him over Michael was odd at first, but as Travis saw more gruesome images of burnt bodies and strange ‘gas leaks’, the idea solidified.
She’s using him to consolidate her power, which to her is more important than having Michael on her side. Especially if she thinks she can just take the dungeon away from Michael.
Telling her was a mistake.
Travis amended the text message. In it, he tried to stress to Old Dave how important it was for Michael to learn some fucking basic rules of the real world. Namely: don’t go telling people your secrets. Much like he had done with Travis himself, although Travis was glad he caught sight of Michael before Old Dave could have time to educate the young man.
Travis sent the message and closed the file with a sigh. He felt the bubbling power within, the lightning waiting to transport him somewhere else, begging to be used. It would be perfect for this sort of task.
But he stayed his hand. Not because he was a careful person, which he was not. But because he was only impulsive when his shit was on the line, and this was not the case. Michael was too important to risk a fuck up over, and they needed more data.
“I need more men in her organization. Infiltrate all ranks,” he told his secretary before shutting himself in his office again.
It was much later that he found himself in an empty field, away from prying eyes, the perimeter carefully monitored by his men.
He disappeared in a flash of sparks. He was testing his power, definitely not wasting coins that cost him a fortune to get from Michael.
This… this feels intoxicating
Immediately his mind went to how he could acquire more power. David had mentioned that the only way to get power was to challenge hell, but Michael had mentioned none of it when they dove together. His instincts were telling him that perhaps David was either lying to him or that they didn’t know.
He also got the feeling that Michael did not really respect people who wanted power without earning it. For a moment, he wondered whether it would be worth losing a part of Michael’s respect to gain more power, but then he decided that it wasn’t.