“So, you’re basically inviting me to meeting with the movers and shakers of Freetown. Or at least the humans that fit that categorization?”

Caliban nodded.

Eric couldn’t deny that he was interested, despite the ambush of the day before. He was all too well aware that with knowledge being at such a premium in this brave new world, he’d be a fool to forgo any opportunity to glean whatever insights he could from any sort of meeting between the elites. Individuals who probably took for granted answers to vital questions the common struggling adventurer didn’t even know to ask. Answers that might make all the difference between a glorious future of unlimited potential, and a stunted class leading to bitter mediocrity as sneering elites left Eric, and everyone else who called Earth their home, eating their dust.

The hell he’d let that happen, or forgo any opportunity to learn whatever he could, from whoever was willing to teach him, he thought to himself, his cautious acceptance turning to a firm nod as they left the study, their negotiations having come to what Eric sincerely hoped would be an extremely profitable conclusion in the months and years ahead.

He could only hope it wouldn’t be decades. But even if it were… at least his future descendants would have the resources they would need to obtain whatever class or field of study best suited them, futures secured by wealth and perhaps no small amount of influence with the Blue Corp serving as staunch allies… assuming humanity lived long enough for that to even occur.

“By all means, I’d love to attend this meeting of the minds, as it were. Is there anything I should know in advance?”

Agent Caliban gave a quick professional nod as they left the study, Eric only pausing to check on his girl, whose eyes lit up with a mercantile spirit that made Eric more certain than ever that he was falling in love with a kindred spirit: both savage and sweet, and with a hunger for wealth, power, and other things that so perfectly mirrored his own, as late night whispered confessions the night before and a savagely sweet kiss and a blushing smile right now made all too clear.

“Go! Have your little powwow, learn everything you can, then come back safe, and share all your juicy secrets with yours truly,” Rica said with a teasing smile.

And Eric wasn’t blind to the worry beneath her cheeky grin, trying so desperately to convey how he felt with a single kiss he let linger for far too long. But the poignant look in her eyes was worth the bemused smile a certain elf favored him with, saying only, “Out of all the prizes I earned in my years with Blue Corp, my wife is the one that I will always cherish most of all,” as they left together.

Eric smiled, touched by Caliban confiding such a personal thing with him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she feels exactly the same,” he declared before sighing. “God, I hope I don’t fuck things up.”

This earned a bemused look from the elf as they left and carefully locked Eric’s suite.

Eric winced. “That came out wrong. I’d trust Rica with my life, and my wallet. But… well, this is my first real relationship that’s lasted more than two days.”

Caliban gave him a strangely sympathetic nod. “I know you and your mate were both forced to forge yourself in the fires of conflict while still quite young. Even compared to the humans you were raised among. But from what I’ve seen, you have a definite knack for negotiation and, dare I say it, sensing what the other party is truly after. I think you’ll find those skills to be just as useful in one’s home as one’s place of business. Because learning to compromise, to understand and meet the needs of those you love while having your own needs met as well, serves as the cornerstone of any relationship. The building block of any alliance in the boardroom… or the heart.”

Eric swallowed, dipping his head, feeling oddly grateful for insights given by a man acting more like a confidant than a business partner. Or perhaps that was just the way of elves? Or maybe it was about earning the trust and warm regard of someone who had agreed not only to open a whole new revenue stream for Blue Corp, but to flush it with an absolutely absurd infusion of capital as well.

He decided not to voice his concerns that the odds of things working out perfectly between a teenage mom and a guy she had met at spearpoint, just days ago, both of them traumatized by months of having to fight and kill just to survive… probably weren’t that great.

He wasn’t stupid. Intellectually, he was all too aware that he was probably playing the fool in countless ways he lacked the experience and wisdom to understand, even if his future self would cringe at the memory of errors made.

But it wasn’t stopping him from falling head over heels for a girl he could so easily visualize as the mother of his children, or trusting her completely with his fortune.

He just hoped to god that he didn’t fuck things up with his first honest-to-goodness relationship. Because drug fueled orgies his mother had arranged for him to ‘enjoy,’ so that his sins would always exceed his still technically virgin sister’s, sure as hell didn’t count.

“This way, Eric. We’re not going downstairs. We’re going up.”

Eric blinked. “So the meeting’s taking place here?”

The elf’s laughter was melodic.

Eric smirked. It seems that stereotypes had their place after all, for all that the man looked like a corporate executive on the way up with an exotic blue shimmering suit, save for vulcanesque ears and the force shield and blade hilt secured to his hip.

Even his smile held a roguish, disarming charm. “Of course! We aim for the Blue Palace to not only to serve as the premier destination spot for luxury and comfort within Freetown and the adjoining territories, but to serve as the ideal convention center for all meetings of note between key dignitaries of all factions, our unique status as a recognized neutral faction giving us a key diplomatic and commercial edge over competing centers of trade.”

He then gestured toward the elevator that made Eric’s gut clench, just looking at the thing. Giving as it did an absolutely clear view of the city stretching away on all sides below. Even the floor was made of that damned translucent blue crystal!

The elf raised a curious brow. “Is everything alright?”

Eric swallowed the lump in his throat before adamantly shaking his head. “Nope. I’d just rather take the stairs.”

It wasn’t claustrophobia or fear of heights.

It was an extreme distaste for being in an enclosed metal, or in this case, crystal box, where a single crossed magical wire could send them plummeting thirty stories down to their deaths.

Come to think of it… he shrugged. He refused to put a clinical label on not wanting to plummet to his death in a crystal box.

Surprisingly, Caliban just dipped his head. “Well then, the stairs it will be,” he said, leading the way, and for all that Eric felt his cheeks flush… it didn’t stop him from gratefully doing just that, the elf by his side filling him in on what he needed to know along the way.

“In addition to the local Guildmasters attending, there will be diplomats associated with all the major factions who will be attending.” The elf’s rapid steps slowed to a halt as he locked gazes with Eric. “This will include members of the goblin faction. And the orcs.”

Eric’s heart began to pound as he clenched his fists as the crimson dirge of bloody violence sang through his veins before he commanded himself to take a deep breath… and be calm.

He swallowed, feeling his cheeks heat up but refusing to flinch under Caliban’s too-knowing gaze. “Thank you for the head’s up,” he said at last.

Caliban nodded. “Self control is paramount in this meeting, Eric. Multiple heads of multiple factions will be making their pitch to the movers and shakers and, dare I say it, Contenders among your kind. Those few souls with the potency not only to level-up, but to actually claim a territory’s potential…

Eric froze with those words, heart skittering for just a moment as he wondered if this had all been a horrifically complex setup to destroy him… before Caliban spoke on.

“… and either dare to assert their own claim and take their first tentative steps along the Path of Rulers, before being inevitably crushed under the heels of experienced killers who have been playing this game for decades going on centuries, or taking the far more lucrative, and prudent position of either fully ceding their claim to another for extremely generous compensation, or allowing their budding territory to be welcomed into the fold of another to whom they will swear fealty to, in return for protection, rank, and a lord’s privilege.”

Eric gazed at Caliban for long moments. “How common are adventurers able to walk this path?”

The elf grinned. “Even rarer than mortals who actually dare the pods of their own free will, Eric. Of course, few things are better tells regarding potential than power already accrued, and few are more likely to have within them the seeds of greatness, or an inclination for rulership than the heads of adventuring guilds and mercenary bands, or others who had already hit the vaunted Level 30 mark, which is harder in White Tier territories than you might imagine.”

Eric peered thoughtfully at the elf before him. “And you’re allowing a level 9 Conscript to sit in on this conference attended by Freetown’s true elites?”

This earned a polite chuckle. “Polite communiques between all the elven clans swearing fealty to the Winter Queen have made it clear that a certain Lady Valorn is very interested in claiming the hand of one Eric Silver. It is move she, as the Valorn branch heir and one of the champions of the Sylvan Alliances, would never think to make, especially publicly, for anyone’s sake, did they not prove themselves to be of either impeccable breeding, or hold within themselves the seeds of true greatness.”

Too knowing eyes smiled into Eric’s own.

“It doesn’t take a genius to deduce the source of the abrupt shift in the balance of power that allowed Lady Valorn’s faction to not only wrest Gilton from Clan Bloodtooth, but completely obliterate the tribe with near zero casualties among her own troops, from what our sources tell us, and all in the space of a single night. A most remarkable achievement, no? Remarkable enough that even a band of thieves and assassins at level 20 and above didn’t stand a chance against him, three of their number obliterated in just a handful of seconds. And such a catalyst is exactly the type of trailblazer these diplomats are eager to speak with, eager to win over such a potential power for their own camps.”

Eric couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “When you put it like that… still, best we keep certain unfounded suspicions between ourselves, no?”

Caliban dipped his head. “Fear not. We are always discrete with our associates. And the fact that the goblins are so vindictive as to actually invite aggression against your person while in Freetown, a neutral territory...” A slow smile crept across the man’s features. “Can only work in our favor in the long run.”

Eric furrowed his brow as they began to slowly ascend once more. “Wait, those assholes actually set me up? Isn’t that against the towns own non-agression edicts? And how the hell does this help us?

Caliban sighed, looking oddly pained. “We… spoke to the thieves we captured. At length. It appears that a third party informed all the shadier guilds that you were worth a million credit bounty if delivered alive to the CSA, preferably with a slave collar around your neck. Though normally people aren’t so foolish as to attempt an assassination or kidnapping within the Blue Quarter… you were under observation.”

The elf sighed, shaking his head. “When one of the thieves used his analysis skill and found that you had well over a million credits worth of top tier wands on your person, he alerted his associates that just robbing you would net them more than heading two hundred miles west. When a higher level rogue detected over forty million credits worth of gold on you well, let’s just they that they pulled out all the stops.”

Eric lowered his head, flushed with sudden shame. “I was such a fool,” he whispered.

Caliban shrugged. “You have no way of knowing that rogues could sense the worth of whatever you were carrying. Only now, after third party confessions, can I even speak of the ‘Assay’ skill, with so many edicts and strictures put in place upon all newly subjugated worlds.”

“To keep us week and stunted, so we are too crippled to make half-decent builds able to benefit from all the potency released when new world’s join the galactic fold, right? So there’s less competition for the scions of the true galactic movers and shakers. Because knowledge the is one form of power they’ll deny us as much as they can, even if the System is technically impartial and fair,” Eric said with a bitter curl to his lips.

“And yet, as your own power attests, some people manage to transcend all sorts of limitations. May your meteoric growth continue… and may you make all sorts of useful alliances in the conference you are about to attend,” said the point man for their soon-to-be fiscal alliance

Eric nodded. “Alright, before I get side-tracked again… a certain manager was supposed to get back to me with the feasibility of my buying multiple condominiums and other properties.”

Caliban’s features crinkled into a warm smile. “Indeed! And I am happy to say that I am indeed able to assure a 10% discount… and one free meal per day for all your guests, up to 4 per condo at our renowned Blue Spoon restaurant, upon all real estate ventures purchased beyond 20 million.”

The pair shared a bemused smile at that. Because the price point would be absurd for almost anyone, well out of the range of even the most experienced thirtieth levels at present, even if that would change in the future.

But it was well within his means.

“Excellent!” Eric said. “Then I’d like to lock in those purchases right now… and make that bit of info public, that almost every coin I’m worth has been sunk into our little real estate venture. So the world knows I’m not carrying much more than a handful of Silver, let alone what was until very recently, six bricks of gold.”

Caliban nodded. “We can put it all on your card today, if you’re willing. Because purchases permitted with it do include real estate and anything else within the Blue Quarter, and since it’s Soul Linked to you, no one will be able to claim a single credit from your fortune.”

Eric nodded, then froze. “Shit!”

“What’s wrong?”

Eric cursed softly, shaking his head. “I left the gold in my apartment with Rica! We now know there’s no limit to what those bastards will try. What if someone tries to break in while—“

A hand patted his shoulder. “Four of my personal bloodguard are stationed outside your condominium, Eric,” Caliban said with a reassuring smile. “And you may count on them being by your side so long as you need them, so long as you are within Freetown. Because we at Blue Corp protect our own. Always. Now let’s get your card in order, shall we?”

Eric’s eyes widened. He quirked a bemused smile. “Thank you! I should have thought of that, but it’s been a damned busy day.”

Decision made, Eric raised back to his suite just as fast as he could. He Paused only long enough to wrap a warmly smiling Rica in a big hug, though her smile turned to a hard frown when he explained what he was doing and yes, he was converting all his precious gold to currency on a single card only usable with one faction.

She gave him a smile almost as fierce as her kiss. “Good thing I’m keeping my currency liquid. So even if all this goes to shit, we can still start over,” she said, frowning at Caliban waiting politely at the door before locking gazes with Eric once more, her calloused hand caressing his cheek. “Be careful, okay? Both with your money, and yourself.”

He swallowed and nodded, hugging her tightly before letting her go and heading out the door, Caliban matching his race back down the stairs, four bodyguards silently attending them. “Protecting the golden goose, are we?”

“Of course. It would be exceedingly foolish if we didn’t.” Caliban nodded without the slightest flush of shame as they made their way to the blue card exchange, not a single soul daring any trouble, for all that a handful of adventurers gave them intent looks, the human boy surrounded by elite elven guards before being rushed to the front of the line where gold was claimed and a blue card handed back that now had a balance exceeding 46 million credits.

Caliban gave Eric’s armored shoulder a gentle squeeze when they returned to the Blue Palace, Eric pretended to feel as anything more than a feather’s touch. “Now Eric, above all else, and I can’t emphasize this enough… it’s important we keep our cool during the conference.”

Eric nodded. “Because of the assholes previous mentioned.”

The elf nodded. “Correct. Goblins will be making their case for why various human factions and splinter groups should join their camp.” Hard blue eyes met his own. “Orcs too. You understand that, right, Eric? Orcs interested in recruiting psychopaths and savages, so long as they can control their tempers in public… and even those that can’t. Orcs who will be pitching those things that you find most horrific.”

Eric clenched his jaw so hard they could both here his grinding. “I get it.”

“Do you? It’s very important that you do. Because if you were to lose your cool… it would play right into the goblin’s hands.”

Eric’s eyes widened at this. “Wait, how does that work?”

Caliban flashed a bitter smile. “And even here, I skirt the edge of peril, and dare say no more.”

Eric shook his head in bemused wonder. “Jeezus! Why does the galactic council even pretend they're giving us a fair shake? Because sure as hell, they’re doing absolutely everything they can to screw us over, so we stumble about like idiots while their spoiled brats can do speed runs as soon as this world opens up to them, claiming as much territory and power as they can while laughing in our faces, their tribes and clans having had centuries to master all the how-to videos and playbooks.”

Caliban stared at Eric for long moments until Eric lowered his head, flushing like the idiot he was. “Damn. And I can’t even say a word about it, can I? Even that will get me in trouble, which would please the goblins to no end."

“You’re incredibly lucky that very few worlds are considered worth the effort of constant surveillance, and not even we bother monitoring the steps we now ascend. Nonetheless, please do us all the favor of keeping certain asinine comments to your self."

“Caliban...”

“Shut up, Eric,” said the man with a forced smile, before giving him a friendly pat on the back as they approached a pair of gold-inlaid double-doors. “And do consider carefully the offers that will be put before you. If you have any questions about any of them, you need only ask. Because on that topic, at least, we can speak freely and at length.”

Eric swallowed and dipped his head, still feeling a bit like a fool, just knowing his Interface would show him having failed a Willpower check. And if there was anything like a keep-his-mouth-shut skill… he definitely needed to pick it up.

Eric was taken aback when the double doors were abruptly opened by a pair of servants and he beheld a grand ballroom like affair filled with the most powerful movers and shakers in all of Freetown, more than half radiating the potency of either Advanced Classers or Standard Classers who had achieved level 30 the hard way, a hell of a lot more than the five a certain innkeeper had implied, all of them chatting and conversing before tables piled high with champagne pyramids, roast beef, braised ducks, chickens and whole lambs being grilled over a carefully monitored fire. And that was just a fraction of the countless varieties of dishes available. Whether one craved a good stake, perfectly broiled lobster, or a freshly picked salad, the spread was one that would have done any four star restaurant of the before-times proud. Eric then smiled in heartfelt appreciation at the massive buffet tables filled with cakes, cream puff pastries, and silver platters filled with hors d’oeuvres, before turning to take a closer look at everyone dressed in elegant garb that was a strange cross of black-tie and renaissance high society.

Everyone was dressed to the nines except for himself, which earned him a lot more attention than he was comfortable with, and not the good kind, if the bemused smirks and outright glares now being sent his way were anything to go by.

“What the hell let the garbage in? Get the hell out of here, boy, you weren't invited!" sneered one pugnacious fellow dressed more like a banker than a Classer, presently chomping on a cigar and glaring his way.

Which was all the goading Eric needed to saunter right on in.