Chapter 1796 – Simple Questions with Complicated Answers
“By the letter of the law, you have no case to kill him,” Nightingale led with that. “However, as chief-executive you have leeway. True justice is not found on paper but in the hearts of men. It is my belief that you will face condemnation for the decision to kill him. Adding to this, I believe that reforming him would be true justice.”
“Naïve is what it is,” Ehtra growled. She had more words, but bit them back when John raised his hand.
“I want to hear everyone’s opinion,” he stated clearly. He gave Nightingale the chance to continue, but the purple-eyed harpy sat quietly, handing the baton over to the woman next to her. “Lorelei?”
“I have seen his soul and found it cacophonic,” Lorelei said. “I do not believe him evil in spirit, which renders my judgement of him incomplete. I cannot say if he is incapable of recognizing the error in his ways or too muddled of mind to reflect. I advocate for imprisonment, if a reliable option exists, and crippling if it does not. Either way, he should remain alive to be given a chance.”
John slowly nodded. “Gnome?”
“We… do not know anything about him, r-right?” she asked.
“Nothing,” John confirmed. “I had Nightfall try to follow what little clues Observe gave me, but I could not find anyone that knew him before he became ‘Hypercrush’. Either they are all mundanes that we simply lack the files and ability to find or they are dead.”
“So… taking that we don’t know anything… I, uhm, really think that just killing him immediately is a bit of an overreaction? I support detaining him though, at the very least until he has sobered up.”
“So, from the sound of it, Ehtra supports execution, Nightingale is split, and you two are for imprisonment?” John summarized the votes given. Nods all around. John closed his eyes to not be swayed by their expressions, leaned back, and considered what to do. “…We will imprison him,” he ultimately decided. “Not just because I’m merciful, I also want to use this as an opportunity to see if you,” he looked at Lorelei specifically, “and the rest of the crafting crew can improve on the dimensional prison.”
The technology was in its earliest stages. John had used it to isolate Liakan during the Glory Road and that had been time-limited and required the Rose of Artifice to work. The latter could be dedicated to holding Hypercrush, wasteful usage as that would be of such an arcane technology, but the former needed solving if this was to become any kind of permanent solution.
“I’ll put Metra in charge of watching over him, she should have the time.”
“Two permanent prisons are available, my patriarch,” Nightingale reminded.
“You are referring to your and Nathalia’s Sanctums,” John finished her thought for the benefit of the other three. “Possible, no doubt, but I would rather not. It is best we develop this technology early. A drug-fiend trying to escape will be the perfect stress test.”
Nightingale bowed her head, signalling her agreement with or, at least, her acceptance of his decision. Gnome and Lorelei showed similar signs of approving of his decision. Only Ehtra remained unconvinced. Arms crossed and dark lips twisted into a scowl, she did not have to say a single word to make her disapproval known.
“I’m not ignoring your counsel,” John assured the First of Hatred. “Should the situation prove unworkable, he will be cut down.”
The annoyance on her face deepened, then relaxed with a sigh. “I trust in your wisdom, Master.”
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“Nom!” Claire announced before biting John’s neck.
Her fangs penetrated his skin. Like a needle, there was a short moment of pain, followed by the feeling of his blood being sucked into her canines. Claire trembled, but stayed put, straddling his lap in the broad armchair. After a few seconds, she pulled away with a moan.
“Master’s blood is the best,” she confessed. “Such a sweet delicacy. Such a forbidden fruit. Such a delight that I should not indulge in!”
“Every now and again, I’ll allow it,” John assured her. He had done so before she had bitten down and Gamer’s Body had already sealed the wound anyhow. Giving his vampire maid an occasional taste of his blood was a minor inconvenience for him at worst. The issue with it was only that Claire was a bit of an unhinged character. John did not want to add his ichor to the list of body fluids she was used to taking from him. “Now, make space.”
“Mhhhhhmmmmm…” Claire curved her back, pressing flat midriff and petite breasts against his chest. Their lips were divided by only the slightest gap of air. Her arms were wrapped around him.
A sharp smack echoed in the room.
“Master!” Claire cried lustfully.
John kept the hand that had smacked her ass on its roundness. His fingers grabbed the maid-worthy squish below her waist. Firmly, he pulled, until she was forced to relent. The Couch shifted, transforming the armchair into a harem chair. Scarlett claimed his left side. Salamander got on her knees in front of him, wrapping her huge tits around his erect cock. It was the usual evening package.
As far as John was concerned, the tournament was over, so he had moved back to the Palace in full now. The split of his harem for the last couple of days had the intended effect of revitalizing the chatter between them. Banter was the norm at all times, but the difference between that and the exchange of new stories was measurable. It was a little loud, even. Two dozen women separated into several groups all talking to each other naturally raised the volume of voice.
John did not mind. An oddity, he had to admit. He remembered back in school when students would talk all over each other during recess or when a disrespected teacher was the only one to fail at keeping order. That loudness had always bothered him. Similarly, he had no love for loud public spaces. When it was the many voices of his harem, none of that applied.
“I could have ridden you,” Claire complained.
Salamander’s tongue extended all the way down to her cleavage to give the tip of John’s cock a quick lick. “I can still fucking taste you on him!”
“I could have ridden him more!” Claire elaborated.
“Learn to share, brat!”
While vampire and apocalypse elemental bickered, John noticed the short buzz of the dedicated delivery bell. Aclysia raised an eyebrow, then her butt out of the Couch to go fetch whatever had been dropped off. Letters and packages were dropped off at the Palace every now and again. Some people just preferred to do their whistleblowing in writing and his haremettes ordered things from the Abyss Auction frequently enough as well.
“Can you finally convince Jane to put her Guild Hall down?” Scarlett asked John. “There’s so much money being left on the table, it’s fucking bothering me.”
“If I get our Jane correctly, then I don’t think she’ll put it down anywhere anytime soon,” John answered. “There’s a time and place.”
Scarlett clicked her tongue, annoyed at the revelation. “Fine. I’ll deal with it.”
“May I ask a different question?” Claire’s back and forth with Salamander had come to an end, now that the latter’s supremely sensitive breasts were fully engaged in gliding up and down John’s shaft. “What are you going to do to that pest tomorrow?”
“Justinian? Bash him over the skull then invite him to try to govern Fusion.”
The revelation of his plan came as a shock to Claire. Scarlett and Salamander were not surprised whatsoever. The long-haired redhead provided the explanation for John, “We only stand to gain by making Justinian realize that he’s been a sanctimonious asshole. Letting him see the realities of government first hand will show him that Fusion stands for none of the things he accuses us of.”
“I love that you use ‘us’, there, Miss Thorne.” John put an arm around Scarlett and pulled her against his chest.
She rolled her eyes and blushed simultaneously. A stray hand brushed appreciatively over his toned midriff. “I’ve told you before that I hitched my wagon to this project. Several times, I have told you.”
“But I like hearing it again anyway.” His eyes drifted from Scarlett back to Claire. “Justinian is an idiot, but he can be useful to me. At worst, him combing through all of my departments with intense zealotry will reveal corruption that I want to weed out anyway. That will give him some ammunition against me, but the lovely thing is that I’m the legendary honest politician.” The Gamer smirked. “I can just acknowledge when he’s right.”
“Can I at least threaten him when he is being a cheeky, disrespectful wretch?” Claire pleaded. “Please don’t tell me we have to let him into your sacred office and take all of his prattle. I’ll die if I bottle in all of this righteous urge for justice!”
“If he becomes entirely unbearable, we can still make an example out of him.” John shrugged. “I want to be charitable. It costs me very little and I really don’t want him to remain adversarial to me. He’s of no threat to my personal safety, but he could be a thorn in my side in the long term. I don’t even know where he’ll top out.”
Aclysia returned to the room at that moment, a letter on top of a salver she had taken with her. The envelope had been carefully opened and the letter inspected. “No substances or other threat detected, Master,” she reported. “Its contents I find perplexing.”
John took the letter. Before he even read the words, he took in the writing. It was reasonably elegant. He knew enough about calligraphy to realize that the hand that had written this had done so with an excess of time and a lack of true talent. That was to say that the writing had many of the marks of slow writing. That such care had been put into making it look good made the contents of the two sentences all the more confusing.
“’He was not alone in his generation. Do you think you are?’” the Gamer read out and scratched the back of his head. He rubbed the paper between his fingers. “Feels like generic supermarket paper… looks like generic ink too… no signature.” He checked the envelope. Nothing there either. “Someone must have dropped this off by hand.”
Hailey took the paper from John. “Ain’t the first crazy lett’r we have gotten,” she said while carrying it over to Lorelei. Standard protocol in the harem was to let the seer touch everything that was confusing them. The broader conversations fell silent, waiting for the woman with the second sight to present them with her analysis.
“Through a noose, I see the face of a soldier. Smiling, crying, he pushes his head through. A third eye hovers above, surrounded by maggots and the feathers of one crow.” Lorelei paused, signalling the end of her sight and the beginning of her interpretation. “One of your soldiers has been controlled by a higher force to drop this letter here. They will be made to end their life.”
“Nia-“ John started, only to find that the blonde had already left.
If someone could find that person, it would be her.