Caliban gave Eric a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep the debriefing quick and painless. How about you explain to me what happened in your own words? And then we have another issue we need to get finalized.”

Eric furrowed his brow, but gave his account in short order. And though eyebrows were raised, no one interrupted his account.

“And then I was doing what I could for Nelly, and that’s when you and your men arrived on the scene.” He flashed a bemused smile. “And never have I been so happy to see the boys...and girls, in blue.”

Caliban sighed. “And somehow you, a level 9 Conscript, survived an ambush involving at least 4 rooftop snipers and four ground operatives, who moved in to finish you off and / or rob you. Yet not only did you survive, you thrived, taking out three opponents and crippling a fourth in less than fifteen seconds.

Eric blinked. “Wait, it was really that fast?” He slowly shook his head. “I didn’t… time seemed to stretch, or I was just reacting so fast that it seemed to stretch, well, endlessly.”

Caliban nodded. “Adrenaline catalyzed time dilation. Or at least, your perception of time. You’re lucky to have developed it so early in your adventuring career. Either that, or your characteristics are well beyond the norm. And if it has anything to do with balancing a certain trio of stats...” The elf flashed a hard smile. “I’m of course permitted to say absolutely nothing on that.”

Eric solemnly dipped his head, in genuine respect and appreciation for the elf daring to risk revealing such secrets, no matter how indirectly, for Eric’s sake. Of course, he had already deduced that Quickness somehow synergized with Perception and Finesse to allow for more than just quick reflexes. It actually enhanced his neurological processes, at least during combat, so as to slow down the perception of time, allowing him to strategize, act, and evade that much faster.

Truly a life saver, even if the time distortion was quite modest, at present. Eric could all too well appreciate what a boon it would be to him, should he continue to balance those three stats to whatever degree was needed, in the future. But as to the exact ideal ratio, he still had no idea.

“Is there anything you’d like to add to that?”

Eric furrowed his brow, then slowly nodded. “One of the assholes let something slip. They knew I was loaded. And I know for a fact that I haven’t seen any of them before, well, their attempted hit. So how the hell did they know I’m loaded?”

Caliban gazed at Eric for long moments, before giving a pitying shake of his head. “One never realizes how egregious certain strictures are, until one is forced to face the results of being denied even the most basic information that any galactic citizen should know.”

Eric ground his teeth… then bowed his head once more. Realizing that even Caliban’s mock complaining was being used to inform Eric of that which he could never say aloud. Strictures to what he could be told probably related to class skills and abilities…

Of course. It was so fucking obvious!

His absurd Perception was letting him sense to some degree people’s power levels, without any node purchase at all. So why the hell wouldn’t a thief have, for node purchase at least, a class ability related to ascertaining the net worth of targets? Their financial potency, so to speak. And for all Eric knew, a well developed Node Skill would allow a thief to know exactly what a given mark was carrying, and how best to liberate them of their prize.

Of course that was it. He was now sure of it.

And what a stupid fool he was, carrying over 40 million credits worth of gold like it was nothing… even more before he had put so much on his blue card which, thankfully, was usable by no one save Rica… eventually. He had tried to make it a joint account, which itself had proven to be impossible. The assets were simply to be awarded to her own account upon his death. Which, Eric thought, was looking increasingly likely.

Eric flashed Caliban a cold smile. “Any chance I can ‘talk with’ the perpetrators?”

Caliban gazed at him for long moments before slowly shaking his head. “Blue Corporation has a reputation to uphold. One that depends on fairness and integrity, strange as that may sound to the ears of one who has suffered at the hands of both orcs… and goblins.” The elf sighed. “Both the sniper we caught, and the man who tried to rob Nelly Stone of her wands while she was being assaulted will be facing trial as soon as he has recovered from a crushed spine and ruptured kidney. Revealing their accomplices will, of course, mitigate their sentences significantly. Nice throw, by the way.”

Eric smirked. “Thanks. Asshole totally had it coming.”

“And how fortunate it is that a number of adventurers caught at least a glimpse of the attack, so none may legitimately question who the guilty parties might be. And considering the grave nature of the wounds our healer will attest that both Nelly Stone and Rica Lightfoot have suffered, I find it extremely unlikely that any prosecutor will attempt to press charges against you.” The man flashed a cold smile. “For all that the goblins will, I suspect, do everything they can to destroy you and everything you represent, there are, fortunately, no goblins around to give false testimony.”

Eric blinked. “Is that really a problem?” Then he winced when the elf said absolutely nothing at all, not even blinking an eye. Saying so much with a single raised eyebrow.

Of course those little fuckers would. The only difference between them and the orcs was that they attempted to destroy people within the galactic legal and financial systems. The orcs opted for sheer direct slaughter and brutality. But their goals were the same. A completely enslaved and subjugated race, bowing and scraping before them as they plundered Earth of everything they could.

Then Eric flashed a tight little smile, recalling the singular concession those assholes had been forced to make when their scheme to destroy Eric with absolute prejudice blew up in their faces, thanks to the man before him now.

Eric formally bowed in silent thanks, the man’s tight smile making it clear that he understood and appreciated as well. “At least we were able to squeeze one concession from the fuckers,” Eric whispered, recalling glimpses of her mother’s most ruthless smile when a smug investor who thought he had her by the ropes… that the beautiful elusive fey maiden would soon be a trophy for him alone to savor, suddenly found that he had nothing at all, save the perils of a risky venture. Which movie making always was, and Aurelia had already locked in a guaranteed profit for herself, earning a reputation as a woman who always made blockbusters… no matter how many investors were ground under her heels, much to their delight, according to the flashier tabloid websites.

Caliban looked strangely pleased by the change in conversational direction, pulling out, as if by magic, a sheet of vellum that Eric’s now hawklike gaze and boosted stats allowed him to blaze through with a speed that could have gotten him into any college, he was sure… had life as they all had known it not been turned completely on its head.

His eyes widened as he reread pertinent points several times over, surprised and pleased to find that his Negotiator and Master Criminal traits, while they did nothing to clarify the words beyond his own understanding, still allowed him to so clearly visualize the mindset, anxiety, and desperate drive of the goblin who had penned this paper.

A contract that would seal Eric’s silence with a blood oath… even as it offered a prize so enticing that no one with even the barest inkling of just how powerful the financial system could be would hesitate to claim that prize.

Even if they were stupid enough to accept the deliberately vague execution date.

One thing was for sure, though, as Eric and Caliban traded the smiles of mercantile capitalists, for all that one might be far more experienced than the other. Both knew that those goblins would have nothing to smile about one day… unless, of course, those slimy little shark-toothed bastards could actually put off committing for untold decades.

Eric tested the waters. “Let me guess. They’ll be able to put off honoring their end of the agreement until I’m long dead and buried?”

Caliban chuckled softly. “Very likely, Eric Silver. Very likely. Unless other powers get involved, well-connected powers, that will force rulings that must be adhered to within the century.”

Eric blinked, then suddenly got it. “Those goblins aren’t fools. Not completely. They must either be hoping I’ll accept it and that I won’t think to make alliances… or have no reason to care, because they’ll have already garnered what financial advantage they can in this world, and the most powerful among them will have long left with the lion’s share of profits, leaving their underlings to take the fall. Because we already know that goblins have no sense of loyalty to their workmates, or any sense of reverence for the sacrifices made by others. They care only about how they themselves can profit, and are happy to throw countless lessers under the metaphoric bus, if it leaves the most powerful that much better off.”

Caliban flashed a wry smile. “To be so clueless to an immortal’s many paths of power, yet so savvy in your understanding of your fiduciary enemies...” the man gave a bemused tilt of his head. “Perhaps the Profession best suited for you isn’t that of a Delver.”

Eric smirked. “You mean a Financier? Why note both?” His grin widened when Caliban immediately assumed a poker face. “Don’t worry. I already know that at least some Classers are capable of having both an adventuring class that takes in the sweet, sweet potency of your foes, and a Profession which gives specialized skills but doesn’t give sweet stat boosts like your primary.”

Caliban said nothing, though the tension left him.

Eric shrugged. “But yeah, between decent stats and, let’s just say, a few perks, and we’ll call my background a perk all it’s own, opened my eyes to scumbags like the goblins.”

Caliban nodded. “Because your mother embraced Fiduciary Path and the Path of Fame, as a prelude to the Path of Conquest.”

Eric froze, gazing for long moments at the man before him. “Is my mom really an elf?”

He blinked and flushed as the agent before him blanched. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Sorry,” he quickly said. “Forget I said that.”

His cheeks blazed at the look of pity Caliban gave him before a professional demeanor overtook his features once more, and Eric wasted no more time on such petty concerns when Rica’s soft voice caressed his ears, and he was by her side in a heartbeat.

She smiled tiredly up at him. “Eric? Ria’s getting restless, and being around all this…” she gestured at the blood-spattered floor and ceiling, the sightlessly staring head and bulging fishlike eyes of the corpse whose head Eric had smushed like steel-covered play-dough.

“I don’t think it’s good for her to be around this a second longer than she has to be,” she whispered, and Eric whole-heartedly agreed, though he gave Rica credit for using her Finesse to the utmost, somehow always keeping Ria’s frustrated head from turning in a direction it really shouldn’t.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here, babe,” he whispered, gently kissing her cheek, feeling the tremble she barely held at bay.

And it was Caliban who took the lead, facilitating their immediate withdrawal with glances that made his position as someone high up the food chain exquisitely clear.

It was only after Rica and Nelly were both back in their suite, Nelly’s father demanding answers, his furious scowl turning to heartfelt relief when he was assured that Nelly, who was already much improved, though looked pale and exhausted, would be right as rain as soon as she got a good 5 hours sleep.

“Let her rest, Father. You can ask her questions tomorrow, when she’s up for it,” Mincy soothed, her father swallowing and immediately deflating, revealing the tired middle-aged man that he was. A man who was clearly used to being a provider, and hated that he was able to do so little for his daughters.

Eric just gave the man a respectful nod, before turning to leave. “Wait, you were there. Why didn’t you protect her?” the man cried.

Eric froze, and took a deep shuddering breath. “I did,” he said, not bothering to say anything more before quietly shutting the door to their rooms.

He was relieved to find a freshly washed Rica looking much better, even if she was putting on a brave face for the sake of her little one more than anything else, giving him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Your elven friend wants to talk to you,” she said, pointing to the patiently waiting blue corp agent in the other room.

“You going to be okay?”

Her heartfelt smile warmed him. “Yes. And now I know just how strong you are, lover. Strong enough to keep me and my Ria safe.” She swallowed thickly. “And if I start to feel... if I need you...”

“I’m right here,” he whispered, holding her close.

She flashed an impish smile. “I know. And don’t think I won’t be making it up to you, Eric Silver. Now go. Talk to that nice corporate executive, and see if you can net us a fortune.” Her eyes twinkled with the memory of their earlier heartfelt conversation, the entrepreneurial ideas he had, that she was behind him 100% on. “And if you’re looking for a future accountant...”

“Says the millionaire,” he finished with a teasing smile, before his gaze turned serious. “And yes. Definitely. Assuming things work out, assuming I’m not a fool soon to be kissing his money away forevermore… I could use someone I love and trust to watch my books, and my back.”

Her eyes widened, surprised by his words, and he quickly turned around and made his way to their guest, cheeks flushing after his heart spoke words aloud that he had only dared to whisper when she was fast asleep.

_____________________

Caliban, seated beside the study room table, formally dipped his head when Eric entered the room, presenting vellum parchment and quill pen once more. But not before nodding at the recovered tactical backpack that Eric didn’t need to check to know still held 5 bars of solid gold.

The elf noted Eric’s casual glance and dismissal of the bag as he seated himself. “Should you have any concerns...”

“I have none,” Eric said with a smile. “Now, how about we go over this contract?”

Caliban seemed more than pleased with the answer, quickly going over the paperwork, Eric truthfully more than a bit surprised by what he had found.

Eric had hoped for rights to a sovereign bank account, preferably one tied directly to whatever galactic financial institutions existed, assuming their even was such a thing, or even a Blue Corp financial institution, of which it seemed there were absolutely none permitted on this world. Much to his dismay, he found out that Earth was now void of any banking options, save for the goblin’s clearly predatory savings and loan practices.

Caliban then filled him in on the details of what goblin fiduciary practices really entailed. Which included collaring and selling the poor sorry saps who got in over their head, desperate just to feed their families, only to end up being sold into slavery and an ugly death off world.

“Fucking bastards,” Eric cursed softly under his breath, more determined than ever to add goblins to his purge list, before all was said and done. But savvy enough to show no signs of that killing intent yet.

Not until he was far more powerful and established than he was at present.

In the meantime… he’d settle for them leaving him the hell alone.

“But this isn’t just conceding an account,” Eric softly noted, after reading the oddly worded mid-page paragraph thrice over, as what it truly implied finally began to gel. “This is an independent charter. That means...”

Caliban’s eyes flashed, and Eric instantly understood.

Even here, in the heart of his allies’ or whom he hoped might become his allies’ territory, some things were best left unsaid. Just in case.

But still…

“I still don’t understand why.” Why they hadn’t scratched off in red pen any mention of an independent charter that Caliban had clearly added? Yet that’s what it was, underscored and bolded, with not one but three goblinoid signatures at the bottom of the document.

Caliban gazed at Eric for long moments. “That you both took the time to read the contract in full, were humble enough to ask for clarifications, and savvy enough to deduce the thrust of our attack, speaks well of your potential, Eric Silver. So in this, I will answer.”

Caliban gazed thoughtfully out the window for long moments, Eric joining him, struck anew by the sheer beauty of this quarter of the city. Technomancer marvels meets quaint rustic village and exclusive lush green neighborhoods, all bundled so neatly together, that the massive amount of commerce and industry neither clashed nor jarred with the whole. And the slowly dipping afternoon sun felt like pure magic in the air.

Eric had no problem taking in the sights, allowing the natural and elven-made wonders to soothe and invigorate him, patiently waiting for Caliban to answer.

Eventually, he did.

“In short, Eric, you’re not the first user of unorthodox arts and classes to inspire the goblins wrath and ire. Though you’re the first infused with multiple essences...”

Eric felt a cold chill as silver-blue eyes so casually spoke of his deepest secret.

“And the first to escape the slaver’s noose.”

The elf’s smile was cold as ice. “For theirs were hasty decisions that not only skirted galactic edicts, but broke them. Foolish acts that have consequences. Consequences that built into an exquisitely damning case, our opponents foolish enough to think that a lack of intervention in the past meant acceptance, carte blanche to do as the chose.” The man cracked his neck, moving with an oddly serpentine grace.

“Yet records were kept, of each and every transgression. Particularly the most egregious.” The elf flashed a cold smile. “Simply because the reports hadn’t been formally filed didn’t mean they had been dismissed, or disregarded, or that Blue Corp shared in their prejudicial contempt of wild powers that, left alone, would flourish into forces fearsome to behold. Forces those mongrels had no hope of controlling. Wild cards so anathema to them that they had dared that which would doom a good number of them to lifetime incarceration, if word ever got out.”

Eric swallowed the bile roiling in his gut under the weight of Caliban’s ruthless smile. Instantly understanding what he had done. How ruthless a game even his allies were playing. “You set them up,” Eric said.

The elf didn’t even flinch. “Five innocent lives, those goblins broke countless rules and strictures to force off balance, deliberately leading to their enslavement or outright destruction. And another half dozen where the evidence is far more circumstantial. But altogether...”

“Eleven lives lost,” Eric whispered.

The elf’s gaze hardened, fierce and cold as any tactician willing to do whatever was needed to seize the initiative and snatch victory at all costs. “A full dozen lives lost to the treachery of a race whose overall goal isn’t facilitating prosperity, but rather assuring the utter enslavement and degradation of your adopted tribe, Eric Silver. A dozen lives lost that a handful of frightened goblin executives, who care nothing for the long term profitability of anything save their own personal fortunes would do anything to bury, with their attempts at kidnapping, bearing false witness, and enslavement against your person serving as the final nail to a coffin that will soon be their own, should they not have made certain concessions. Concession that assure that a dozen deaths need not be in vain!” Caliban snapped, jabbing his finger at the paper in Eric’s trembling hands. “For that holds the key.”

Eric gazed at the elf for long moments, brain whirling, understanding the bitter cost that had been paid to pave the way in blood and gold suddenly before him.

A way to free countless humans from the yolk of goblin indentured servitude... and of course, a way for Blue Corp to make an absolute fortune while playing the good guys. For the path before them was covered in the blood and tears of all those who had been sacrificed for the cause.

It would be so easy to be blinded by fury. Eric knew this. But he knew as well that the goblins alone bore responsibility for their crimes, and that had they not been allowed to delude themselves into thinking that they had free reign to basically do as they wished, had they not been deceived into thinking that they had unspoken consent in embracing the most savage and vindictive side of their natures, then they would have an uncontested stranglehold on Earth finances for all time, making slaves and paupers out of countless nations in the years to come.

All that smacking their wrists would have done before was delay the inevitable.

But this? This opened the way to a future far less bleak and grim, for all that the upfront cost had been paid in the tears of the fallen.

But still… it was all Eric could do to sign the document, feeling his essence, his fury, seep into the document despite his best efforts, his name burning itself into what turned out to be arcane parchment, Arcane Perception sensing the echo of its signing echoing far beyond the local scale.

Eric gazed up at the elf. “It’s done. Now, it’s only a matter of time.”

Caliban dipped his head. “Signed only after you had read it thrice over once more. A move I find both wise and prudent. But please keep in mind, Eric, it could well be a century before the goblins are finally forced to concede your charter.” Hard eyes bore into his own. “If not longer. If not delayed to the final days of your life. And that is why Blue Corp has a unique proposal for you, Eric Silver.”

And Eric couldn’t quite hold back his own shark-like grin.

After all their maneuvering, allowing a dozen innocent parties to be sacrificed to the spiteful wiles of the goblins, he didn’t need Social Perception and Master Criminal perks to deduce exactly where this was going. But it certainly helped, he thought, Caliban’s shift in posture, barely cloaked excitement, and intense gaze exactly what Eric knew he should exhibit, if he was truly aiming for what Eric was almost certain was his goal.

He allowed the elf’s words to wash over him, emphasizing countless reasons why this document was all but worthless to Eric, before finally coming to the thrust of his argument.

“And that is why I would like to make a proposal. Sell the free charter rights you have been awarded to Blue Corp, Eric Silver, and it will be one of the most profitable transactions you’ll ever have the joy of making. I can all but promise you that.”

Eric’s grin widened.

Because the man truly had no idea. Even if the odd look he was giving Eric made it clear he was reading something… now thrown completely off his game, before pressing doggedly on.

“With our lawyers and political influence, with the infinite prestige and reputation of our imperial corporation, we’ll be able to force the charter to fruition in under a decade.” The elf’s hard features flashed in an oddly reassuring smile. “Plenty of time to save the majority of humans before they’re all wearing the chains of indentured servants.”

“And how much are you offering me for this charter?”

The man frowned, gazing intently at Eric’s backpack before proceeding.

“We were originally going to offer you twenty million. But considering the fortune you now claim...” the elf gazed at Eric for long moments. “We’ll double it.”

Eric couldn’t quite hold back his smirk. “Let me make sure I understand your offer, Caliban. You’re willing to throw me a bone of around 40 million credits, a measly five bars of gold, for the rights to what could well be the greatest savings and loan institution in a world that, until six months ago, had a finance sector worth countless trillions? And your only competition will be vile profiteering goblins who can barely hold their contempt of the native population in check? Are you serious?”

The elf blinked, gazing at Eric in consternation for long moments… before cracking a bemused smile. “Of course I should have expected nothing less from Aurelia’s lastborn son. You’re as much Silver clan High Elf as you are human, and few are as attuned to the balance of money and power as your mother. Indeed, were it not for Aurelia’s current obsession, I think your familial bloodlines would have intermingled with our own, long ago.”

Eric gazed at the elf before him for long moments, heart hammering so loudly he couldn’t hear a thing, save for the blood roaring in his ears. “I’m sorry, did you say something? Because all I’m hearing are meaningless words that have absolutely nothing to do with our joint banking venture.”

Caliban held Eric’s gaze for half a dozen heartbeats. Then it was his turn to burst out in laughter.

Eric matched him chuckle for chuckle, both pairs of eyes, ice blue, and the color of crackling flame, equally hard and intent. Neither giving an inch, until the elf’s bemused expression instantly hardened into that of a take-no-prisoners interrogator. “Five percent of yearly profits for fifty years.”

Eric smirked. “I hear the number 20% floating around you guys quite a bit. So how about you all manage my bank for a 20% cut of the action? After expenses, of course. And I reserve the right to use a third party auditor to assure no irregularities occur.”

Caliban’s eyes bulged. “You can’t be serious!”

Eric smirked. “You’ll notice I have yet to contact my mother about any of this. Aren’t you glad youthful pride and foolishness is working so gloriously in your favor? What are the odds, do you think, that she won’t end up commandeering absolutely everything, using laws I have absolutely no knowledge of?”

“But then you won’t have the bank charter either, Eric Silver.”

Eric grinned. “But my sister might. And how much would you like to bet that she could find all sorts of willing tertiary parties, perhaps even her own clan, more than happy to run it for a tiny sliver of the action?”

Caliban visibly paled.

Eric winked, pretending he wasn’t skirting peril he dare not even think about, lest the blinking in his interface spell disaster. “All part of the negotiation! Criminal Mastermind Perk better make allowances for playing fast and loose!” he scolded himself, mind quieting with his own internal oath to make absolutely no contact with his mother whatsoever, at least for the foreseeable future.

But Caliban didn’t have to know that.

The elf gazed at him for long moments, before cracking a genuine smile.

“Well played, Eric Silver. So let me make a fair offer for a genuine Contender. 20% of all profits, in perpetuity, with a 20% stake in the Earth Savings and Loan division that you may pass to your heirs.”

Eric gazed thoughtfully at the Elf, sensing something genuine with the offer.

And that there was only so far he could push, or risk having nothing at all.

He took a deep breath, deciding it was time to play his gambit to the fullest. “I take it that includes all operations that would be pursued, directly or indirectly, in relation to the charter we now possess?”

The elf gazed at him for long moments, a delicate digit gently pressing the back of his neck, and Eric was suddenly dead certain that he was magically bluetoothed with the true higher-ups of their Terran branch.

“This would be acceptable,” Caliban said after long drawn out seconds.

Eric tilted his head thoughtfully. “As long as we have your boss on the phone… ask him this. What good is a bank without sufficient capitalization?”

Caliban flinched, genuinely caught off guard by the statement. Then his eyes hardened. “What do you know, Eric Silver?”

Eric shrugged. “I know enough to realize that a lot of time and resources were invested into the Blue quarter of Freetown, and even if Alutopaze, that self repairing aluminum topaz alloy allows you to make glorious buildings and nearly indestructible houses and shops for a fraction of what concrete and steel would cost...the outlay must have still cost a fortune.”

He held the man’s gaze for long moments. “And with the goblins shutting you off from everything, save the high end luxury market on a world full of struggling adventurers just trying to make ends meet… I’m guessing that cash flow is a very serious issue for you.”

Eric gazed intently at the elf peering at him without moving a muscle. Which itself told Eric all he needed to know.

“Tell me, if things continue as they are… how long before this Blue Corp branch is pruned for investments in more favorable waters? With choice assignments given to Blue Corp scions who have the hearts and ears of powerful patrons looking for any excuse to send resources and funds their protoge’s way? How long do you here on Earth truly have to turn a profit before you’re all demoted, under new management, or sent home in disgrace?”

Eric waited long moments as Caliban’s gaze grew wide with surprise and barely checked fury, trembling at the earful Eric sensed screaming in the man’s interface… judging as best he could the instant before decisions were made and words said that could never be taken back, and would truly damn his piece on the board with yet more enemies he had no hope of contending with.

NOW!

Before the elf could say a single word that could never be taken back, Eric flashed a predatory smile that would do even his mother proud.

“Now what if I told you and your council that I can help make all those problems go away?”

Words that froze Caliban, and the speaker in his ear, in their tracks.

Caliban took a slow, steadying breath. “Please explain,” he said in a voice riddled with tension.

“Capitalization, my friend and soon to be business partner. it’s all about capitalization. What are the most vital ingredients of any successful banking operation?”

“Competent management and considerable cash reserves.”

Eric grinned. “Bingo! And I have no doubt that an interplanetary conglomeration with a focus on galactic best practices is blessed with competent management on all levels… even if they have overextended to the point that a pissant crew of loan shark goblins were able to outbid them on exclusive banking rights, here on Earth.”

Caliban’s face tightened. “Eric...”

Eric winked. “A monopoly we now have the means to crack wide open! So let me ask you this: should an angel investor be willing to grant this hypothetical bank say… a billion credit zero interest loan, with nothing due until profitability is achieved, however many years that might take, would that be worth a fifty percent share in our hypothetical chartered savings and loan institution?”

The elf gazed at him in utter stupefaction.

Eric’s smile widened. “And of course that particular investor would like assurances that his Blue Corp venture partners would be in position to store an undisclosed sum of gold, gold that would then be placed in an account giving an interest rate equivalent to that enjoyed by the most powerful and prominent business and individual entities… funds which he could then turn around and use to capitalize his own private ventures in whatever field he liked, perhaps using Blue Corp accounting and managerial services for a to be determined cut of the profits of those tertiary businesses?”

Caliban continued to stare at him for long moments… and Eric felt the first twinges of fear, wondering if he had just massively overplayed his hand.

“Eric?”

“Yes, Calibro?”

The elf blinked, but let it go. “Exactly how much are you worth?”

Eric gazed at the man for long moments, allowing the man to see what he normally kept hidden so well that only the occasional guard threw a suspicious glance his way.

“I achieved an Elite Tier Master Criminal Title. How much do you think I’m worth?”

The elf’s eyes bulged. “Eric, that’s...”

“It occurred on the same night that I fled Gilton. And that’s all I will say on it. Ever.” He said in a voice hard and cold, crossing his arms, his gaze as much for the council behind Caliban as for the man himself.

Because that’s all he safely could say on the still swirling mass of potential that he was somehow certain he dare not quantify, lest he wanted something to rupture forth that he was by no means ready for… the very thought of exploding in a mountain of gold causing his face to break out in a cold sweat.

Eric suddenly felt like trumpets were blaring in his soul when Caliban, looking as surprised as Eric felt, actually nodded.

“Alright, Eric Silver, here is our CEO-approved offer,” the elf said breathlessly. “To start, you will receive a twenty percent share in any future Savings and Loan institution and any auxiliary subsidiaries we set up, upon signing over rights to your chartered subsidiary branch. This share will immediately increase to a fifty percent share … in return for a billion credit infusion that will be due within the next six months. This will not be a loan, but will be your… contribution to the company. Should this prove unfeasible, you will accrue no penalties, though your share will remain at 20%. We will, in turn, do our utmost to generate the maximum profit that we can under galactic good practice guideliness. Should the bank be forced to liquidate for whatever reason, you will have rights to the first billion… or half of all assets, should that number exceed two billion credits in value.”

Eric gazed at Caliban for long seconds, sensing the whirlwind of emotions the agent tried so hard to hide.

Before giving an abrupt nod, shaking the bemused elf’s hand. “Done and done."

And with that, Eric found himself the proud part-owner of what he hoped to one day transform into the most profitable sector in the entire world.

Finance.

Because with Blue Corp now at the helm of the only other charter not controlled by enemies to humanity, the amount of money Eric and his new partners could make would scale to heights beyond belief. If they played their cards right. And the best part of it was that unlike all the other opportunities that would eventually dry up once Earth was completely settled and tamed, its extreme excess potency drained away... the financial sector would only grow stronger and more vital every passing year as the market and the world slowly got back on its feet.

There was no telling how far they could go. Especially if he could put at least a few of the pre-collapse financial tools that had been absolutely ubiquitous just a year ago, back into play once more.

He idly pulled out one of the handful of business cards he had been handed, thinking they were just the right size for what he eventually intended to make reality once more.

One was even the perfect shade of blue.

Eric smiled at the odd look Caliban was giving him.

"As a soon-to-be 50% shareholder, I assume you all will be open to me shooting ideas your way that I think might make us an absolute fortune, and two… do you guys have anything like space shuttles, portal worms, or unbreakable vaults directly tied to the imperial S&L that we can make use of?”

The elf gazed at him for long moments before cracking a smile. “It goes without saying that your words will carry considerable weight within the company. We will spare you the day-to-day minutia, but as far as suggesting profitable strategies, we await your ideas with genuine eagerness! And of course, we will be happy to polish them in whatever way will assure the profitability and longevity of our company.”

Eric grinned. “Wonderful. Now, do we have any way to safely transport an absolutely absurd amount of something I need not mention?”

Caliban frowned. “Unfortunately… no. Not immediately.” The elf furrowed his brow with concern. “I do hope this won’t be a problem, Eric.”

Eric shrugged. “Not sure. Hopefully, no. I assume there will be paperwork to sign?”

The elf gazed intently at Eric for long moments before nodding to himself. “We’ll have it ready to sign in less than three days.” His smile brightened. “Wonderful news! We’ve just been greenlighted for a priority shipping contingent that will contain both the contract, multiple system-bonded lawyers to explain and go over everything for all parties, and plenty of room to store whatever resources you see fit that will be held for you in long term storage, without fee or penalty, until our lawyers have successfully negotiated temporal concessions from our goblin counterparts, or the subjugated world strictures have been lifted.”

Eric smirked. “And I’m guessing I’ll have zero access to those resources until either one or the other of those events occurs, which could take… what, decades?”

Caliban had the grace to flash a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid so. But considering the wealth you already have in your backpack… I’m assuming that this will cause you no undue hardship.”

Eric sighed. “It will have to do.” He then gave the elf a hard look. “I assume my assets will be properly bonded?”

The elf solemnly nodded. “Once your assets, whatever they may be, have been placed in the cargo manifest, they will be our responsibility to see safely deposited and secured on your behalf. And should our bank need more capital… or our parent corporation wish to access your reserves… of course you will be paid prime interest rates for whatever resources are borrowed.”

Eric smirked. “You mean we’ll discuss further cash infusions and come to mutually acceptable arrangements on an as-needed basis.”

“Of course,” the elf said, not missing a beat, gazing at Eric with a speculative smile, before at last nodding. “In fact, there is a meeting I would like you to attend, beginning shortly. Normally it’s given only to the heads of guilds, factions, and mercenary bands. But considering your surprisingly noteworthy accomplishments, particularly for someone who has yet even to formalize their class... perhaps there would be some benefit in you attending as well.”