Chapter Twenty-One

There’s a Lot Leftover

“What do you mean by a less than perfect job?” Dev asked, not liking the implication that he shouldn’t do his best every time he made something.

“I’ve considered this and I think that a lot of our hold up is trying to remake the whole constable,” Toot replied. “I don’t think that we need to do that, I think all we need is a basic version of Trond Goru, one with fewer skills. We can just give him basic sword skills, and when you’ve leveled up you can absorb him and redo him with all his original components, even tacking on the memories he had after his recreation.”

Dev mulled that over. He didn’t have a lot of energy points to remake the man all at once, but if he scaled back as Toot was suggesting then he could do it right away. Dev was if he was honest, more than a little nervous. He hadn’t made an intelligent self-aware creature before, the spider notwithstanding.

The entire process was fairly simple. First, he drew up the mesh he had for Trond Guro. He didn’t tweak it in the slightest. There was no need to; he wanted an exact duplicate of the man prior to his death. Alterations would be noticed.

He only had one skin, which included his constable uniform, but he noted that he could outfit the man in the same clothes that Toot wore, or any number of options from the clothes that Toot had bought when he’d been about town. It was addicting, thinking of the various weapons and clothing that he could kit the man out with; so many options that he would have to play with later. Dev slid the original skin onto the mesh.

There was an option to add or remove memories, he added the man’s lifetime of knowledge, but trimmed away his encounter with Toot before his death. He saw no point in keeping that, but he didn’t delete it. He saved it as a separate file in his memory database under the heading Rufus kills the constable posthumously.

The next option was whether he wanted to increase or decrease the man’s mental and or physical attributes. Considering the only other body he’d absorbed that provided point values had belonged to Rufus Xavier the constable’s mental stats were going to remain the same since his was much higher than the thug. Physically, though, he did have some numbers to play with.

Dev knew he shouldn’t, but there was no way that anyone would notice if Guro’s stamina and Strength both got pushed to seventeen. The Stamina increase made no noticeable difference in his outward appearance, and the strength upgrades made the man a little leaner, which was covered up by the slight increase in his muscular bulk. He did a side-by-side comparison of the before and after and knew that the variation in his physical make-up was so minimal that no one would notice. Naturally, he could have tweaked the man’s mesh, making the framework with bigger thighs and biceps to be more intimidating, but there was no point. Guro was supposed to blend back into his place in the community flawlessly.

Next, he had the option to add skills, and a nice list appeared that just so happened to have all belonged to the constable. He looked them over and parsed the list down substantially.

Skills

Blades - Longsword Level 1, Rapier Level 1

Blunt Instruments - Truncheon Level 1

Hand to Hand Combat - Street Fighting Level 1, Bar Fighting Level 1

Inductive Reasoning - Level 1

Tracking - Level 1

Intimidation - Level 1

Critical Thinking - Level 1

Attention to Detail - Level 1

Truth Detection - Level 1

Judge of Character - Level 1

He’d taken the man back to first level in everything, and cut loose a few less important skills that he could go without for the next day or so. Dev doubted the man was not going to get into a fight with a belaying pin or get into a boxing ring so he was safe to not include them. Dev was certain that the constable would be able to coast along on his reputation long enough for him to rebuild the original model.

The core brought his attention to the real world. He noted that he rather liked his cozy little alcove. It seemed right to be hidden out of sight. Were it not for the occasional stirring of his greedy half the core would have felt serene. He focused on Toot, who was patiently nibbling on a basket of berries that Dev Kept stocked for him.

“The replacement constable is ready,” Dev informed his companion. “Hopefully he won’t have been missed.”

“He has been gone for a day. I would think that no one would take notice.” Toot scratched his mead and pondered the situation. “I mean how important can he be? Surely he took a day off.”

“Nope,” Dev replied, “The guy was a workhorse. He hardly slept. He kept the seedier elements on their toes. If it weren’t for him, Goulcrest would have become a town of brothels, thugs, and thieves in no time flat.”

“Well, good thing we can replace him,” Toot replied.

“Just remember, this isn’t the best version of him. It’s a bare-bone construction.” Dev considered creating him in the cave but thought better of it. “I think I’ll materialize him in town, out of sight of course, and then you can run into him and introduce yourself.”

“Can you place him near Town Hall? I need to go there to get your blueprints. Once you have those you’ll be able to build our shops, and we can begin the process of blending in.”

“Does part of your blending in scheme involve anyone else dying? You were up there less than twelve hours and brought me two bodies.” Dev jested, but his warning was clear, try not to stand out so much this time around.

<>

The Town Hall consisted mostly of the first floor, with the sole exception being the mayor’s office. The office had three walls, one with a door, and a fourth that was mostly window. Keong could look out over Goulcrest and see the little people as they struggled to get through their days.

Outside of his expansive window was a balcony. It used to be a place where he would enjoy a nice evening refreshment and unwind after a day of scheming. He worked with the Bones and Skull but also had all nine of his other digits deeply shoved into other pies. Sometimes, he had a hard time keeping track of each of them.

His current predicament with the BS, as they referred to themselves, was bad but he had been in far worse situations before and wriggled out of it. It usually just took a scapegoat and a small payoff. Chozen was his odds-on favorite to take the fall for his little poison debacle, but that could change. He considered Brom. Did he really need the man? The Dog’s Hair wasn’t exactly important and running it couldn’t be too difficult if the black-toothed bartender kept it afloat every month. The man was a murderous alcoholic and preyed on passers-through who were never seen or heard from again after a night of drinking there. Brom would undoubtedly pass the too stupid to live test if it was applied by a competent invigilator. All that Keong needed to do was plant some passable evidence that the bartender had actually been responsible for the mix-up. Perhaps a written note stating to only apply a trivial amount to the body? Possibly, but it would be just as likely that Skull wouldn’t want a paper trail. He would have to think on it some more.

At the moment his entire focus was supposed to be finding constable Guro. That was Skull’s wish. The Back Alley Boys, an organization whose bread and butter consisted of beating the life out of anyone stupid enough to enter a darkened alley, wanted Keong to install one of their men in Guro’s position. Big Sloot Sally wanted the mayor to legalize brothels during the peace officer’s absence. Guro implemented empirical law rather than those formed by the town council. The empire had outlawed brothels ten years ago. Some places still allowed those long-established institutions by saying that the ladies engaging in racing activities. Constable Trond had looked down his nose at such loopholes and so Big Sloot Sally had to make do washing laundry and darning socks, and she was a terrible clothes washer.

There were a dozen more people or organizations of nefarious purposes that he had vying for his attention and demanding that he take one action or another. This was one of those times that he regretted becoming mayor. Things had been so much simpler back when he was the head of the Empty Pockets, a small group of street thieves who cutpurses and filched jewelry right off the hands of their marks. Sometimes Keong longed for those old days, and then he would find himself sitting in his large leather chair and dismiss such moronic musings.

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He was regretting his mantle of leadership now. How one man being missing for a little over a day could cause such speculation and shrewd planning astounded him. Why Guro himself never considered someone missing until forty-eight hours had passed. The man takes a sick day and every misanthrope and ne’er-do-well comes clambering out of the shadows with their hand out.

The mayor had found himself staring out his window sipping on a glass of red wine and staring wistfully at the streets below before he realized what he was doing. The streets he noted were filthy. Overlooking the limitless piles of manure that littered the streets enough that it made them look paved. Keong swore the streets had risen three inches in the last five years. If the manure got any deeper, they’d have to raise the town and build new sidewalks. To say that the town was filthy would have been an understatement. Mounds of trash were everywhere; papers blew through the air but had to fight through the thick swarms of flies as they made their way from one end of town to another. People discarded anything they decided wasn’t worth carrying. Apple cores were so numerous it appeared as though the local trees produced sickly fruit.

Keong had begun to lose his focus as his wine warmed his body. Lack of sleep, a comfortable piece of furniture, and a good wine all conspired to make him sleep. He didn’t care. He welcomed the call to dreamland. He was going to be a Slumberjack, and that was ok.

He’d almost made it when his half-lidded eyes spied a form that he had already come to hate. The old man who called himself Tooth was heading right for the town hall. What could he want this time? Mayhaps he was turning himself in for the murder of constable Guro. A man could dream, couldn’t he. A man who was not the mayor of Goulcrest because Keong now found himself wide awake and filled with dread at the sight of the seemingly helpless old man. He knew there was more to the elder, he just didn’t know how much more. Keong wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Hope rose in his heart when he saw Tooth stop and give a suspicious look around. The old man nodded, looking as if he was giving someone the go-ahead, and a strange grey cloud appeared and coalesced into Trond Guro, the missing peace officer.

Keong didn’t drop his wine, he literally threw it over his shoulder and leapt from his chair. It hadn’t been an illusion. The officer was there and in full health, not a scratch on him. He did look a little dazed but he shook it off and then noticed Tooth and appeared to introduce himself to the old man. Tooth gave him a hearty handshake and grin and then pointed at the Town Hall. The pair began walking in his direction once more. Keong ran from his office and headed to the foyer to meet them. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had no intention of letting Tooth walk all over Chozen.

<>

Tooth entered the Town Hall just after the newly formed constable. Tooth was how he thought of himself when he was in town now. Toot was weak sounding and did not convey the attitude he needed in order to cultivate fear.

Bringing the constable back had gone off without a hitch. He’d check to make certain that the coast was clear, and had Dev do the same. No one had been nearby and the police officer finally corporeated completely unnoticed. Tooth had waited for his disorientation to disappear and introduced himself while simultaneously congratulating the newly minted man on his stalwart defense of Town Square. Trond, confused but not wanting to display weakness went along with it. Tooth had then told constable Guro that he was heading for the town hall to purchase some building plans and invited him along.

The invitation had been another ploy. People like the mayor and his clerk were often nervous around authorities, particularly ones they did not control, and as a lawman in the service of the Empire, he would fit the bill.

Tooth noted that he could no longer feel the cultivation core that Dev had installed in his body. It impressed him that the core had intuited how to make one just from his description. He knew it worked, too, as he could feel his chakra channels seeking something to cycle. Thankfully, that feeling subsided the moment he entered the government building.

Chozen stood behind his desk, sweating like he was made of ice and sitting on a hot stove. The mousy man practically squeaked when he saw the two of them enter. The man looked like a caged animal trying to find a corner to hide in, and just as it looked like he’d found an escape by running to get the mayor, the honorable man himself appeared. Mayor Keong was out of breath, sounding like he’d run a three-minute mile but was four-hundred pounds while doing so.

The two men locked eyes with one another, and a wave of panic, dread, alarm, anxiety, and horror flooded Tooth’s body. Fear wasn’t like mana, it was dark, cold, and sticky. The repugnant energy flowed into Tooth’s core and he could feel its power flow through him like a drug. He was already powerful, he’d made sure of that when he crafted his body, but the fear was like an adrenaline boost mixed with a runner’s high. The intensity of it nearly swept him off his feet. Thankfully, Dev was pulling fifty-percent of every point of energy he cultivated. With the horror floating in the small space that was Chozen’s workspace he would still max out his core’s capacity.

Tooth swayed unsteadily but righted himself before the cronies caught him looking weak. You have to take more, he mentally said to Dev, I’m practically intoxicated from just these two. Dev quietly acknowledged the situation with a mental nod and Tooth felt all but ten percent of the fear making its way to the core. Instantly feeling better, Tooth raised an eyebrow at the two officials and stared at them as the constable spoke up, breaking the tension. His words, though calm and innocuous, made the pair jump.

“Good morning, Mayor,” He then nodded at Chozen, “Good Clerk. A wonderful day to be alive is it not?”

Keong swallowed hard, his mouth hanging open like the back flap on a pair of Trap Door Long Underwear. “Y-yes, it is I suppose.”

“Come now, your honor, if I just appeared out of a cloud of smoke and asked you what kind of a day you would like it would be a day just like today,” Trond said cheerily. Tooth practically choked at the constable’s exclamation until he saw the mayor’s eyes grow as big as saucers. Something told him that maybe the officer’s appearance hadn’t gone as unnoticed as they had thought.

Chozen seemed to pick up on the mayor’s vibe and tittered nervously. Tooth thanked the gods that he’d had the sense to ask Dev to siphon more energy than originally planned. The output of fear from just the clerk alone was enough to incinerate him. He genuinely began to worry that his body was going to start smoking.

“Quite so,” was all the mayor could spit out.

“How can we help you, gentlemen,” Chozen asked.

“I have come,” Tooth spoke up, “To purchase building blueprints. Whatever you have available. I don’t care if it is just the blueprint or design for an outhouse. I want it. I have several lots to fill with shops, you know.”

“And I,” the constable said, “Just walked my good friend, Mr. Tooth, to your door.”

“Good friend, you say?” The mayor’s eyes flicked back and forth between Tooth and the constable.

“Well, I admit ours is a new friendship, but it feels like I’ve known Tooth my whole life.” Tooth slapped a beefy paw over his eyes, not wanting to see the mayor’s reaction. He heard some choking and then the mayor responded.

“Something tells me you are right,” Keong barely got out his words. Then he turned to Chozen, “Go and get whatever building plans we have. We don’t want these two here all day.” He clearly realized what he said by the look on his face and said, “I mean we don’t want them waiting here all day.”

Chozen vanished and was gone for ten minutes. The mayor shifted from side to side and smiled like he was in pain. Tooth, not wanting to drag things out any longer decided to throw another monkey wrench at the mayor.

“Your honor,” would it be too much to ask that you go and have your clerk bring up the deeds to any empty lots you have to sell. I think I’ll buy every space that I can.”

Given an easy escape route, Keong took it. He ran to the file room as if his rear end was on fire. Good thinking, Dev’s voice came into Tooth’s head, We’d need the lots eventually.

That was my thinking, Tooth replied. How is the fear acquisition going?

I was forced to create gems to store the energy in or I would have lost ninety percent of it all, Dev explained.

Gems that store energy? Tooth questioned him.

I based the design on the cultivation core. I figured that the core filtered power and held it in place once it was activated, so why couldn’t I just build energy storage devices based on the same principles.

Why indeed, Tooth agreed. That is definitely not something to share with the world. It would pull in Overseers from every end of the universe.

Understood, Dev replied.

As the two talked between themselves the constable stared off into space. Dev had shut him down so he didn’t try to exercise his habit of questioning people. He and Toot needed to chat while the others were gone.

So, that was the mayor and his flunky, huh? Dev was not impressed.

Yes, don’t underestimate them. Remember, the smallest snail carries the deadliest poison. Tooth wanted to emphasize that you should treat every single individual you met as if they could snap you like a dry twig. Tooth heard the mayor and the clerk returning. Dev reactivated the constable, who didn’t seem to notice anything amiss from his time in sleep mode.

The duo laid out dozens of building designs and deeds which they spread out over the counter. Chozen wore a smug expression as he waved his hand over the papers.

“I’m afraid this will cost you five-hundred gold. Sixty for the lots you requested, four-hundred twenty-five gold for the blueprints, and the remaining fifteen gold for clerical fees.” The clerk pointedly looked at the old man’s belt, saw no pouch attached, and gave Tooth a look like how are you going to pay for all this?

“Fifteen gold for clerical fees? That, my good clerk, is robbery if I ever saw it. No offense,” the constable proclaimed, “But your best efforts aren’t worth fifteen coppers!”

Tooth laid a comforting hand on the officer’s shoulder. “It is all right, Trond,” the old man made a special effort to call the officer by his first name, intimating a deep bond between the two of them, “Money isn’t really an issue for me, and I’ll let this obvious attempt to milk my nipples go. This time,” he added fiercely.

“May I ask how you intend to pay for these,” Chozen sneered, “I note that you don’t have a coin purse with you and if I have to refile these until you come up with the necessary funds there will be an additional twenty-five gold filing fee added.”

“Not a problem,” Tooth said as he resignedly raised his hands, “I have the money right out here.” The elder swaggered out the door, turned to the left, bent down, and picked up a small chest. He wrapped a withered finger under a handle and carried it in and sat it quietly on the counter.

Chozen looked at the strongbox dubiously. He tried to lift it, but the weight of the box made him grunt in exertion and all he managed to do was turn it around to face him. He carefully opened the latch after removing the open lock and saw that it was filled with gold.

“Count it,” Tooth said with a malicious grin under his mustache. “Then put all of those documents in a valise for me. I can’t have them blowing away on me.” He slid a copper piece to the mayor. “I’m sure that and the container I just gave you will cover the cost of a portmanteau.”

Make sure to get a receipt, Dev said.