Jjhutto_Son of Flame
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B3. Ch. 11 In This Economy?
🕑 Added 2024-06-13 17:11:27 +0000 UTCTilly’s trip back to his room passed in an exhausted haze, and as soon as he plopped down on the bed that afternoon, he was out. The few-hour nap turned into eighteen hours of sleep as Tilly’s subconscious forced his body into a full recovery.
Time was short and the enemy's forces seemed to be everywhere. But no one was attacking today, and some part of Tilly registered the reality of this fact, and completely cut him off from his higher functions for the better part of a day. This gave his insanely strained body and soul time to begin the process of recovering. While the deeper damage was far too pervasive to be healed in a day, the large break was essential in reversing the trend of damage on his psyche and giving the gains he had experienced time to settle in.
Hell, he had died two days ago! Let alone being cleansed of Corruption or losing a friend… He had several visitors over the course of that day, but each one was turned away by a polite shake of the head from the same lapin woman who had brought him his food on his very first morning. The very same one who had brought him every one of his meals over the last month.
She was also responsible for cleaning up after he was gone and maintaining his house when he was away. Far from being bitter about her role, she greatly enjoyed her complete anonymity to her charge. Someone had to care for the Giajin, and she was honored to have been chosen for the task by her lord.
As Tilly began to stir early the next morning, she drifted into his room like a ghost, laying a heavily laden tray down near his bed along with two full pitchers of water. The gentle sliding of his door whispered into his subconscious and after a few unconscious movements, he awoke and began clearing his throat of the gunk that seemed to build up no matter what plane Tilly was on.
He opened his eyes slowly as he did so and saw a soft light pressing through the white panels of his walls.
“Hmmggm” he grumbled, his mind slowly shaping the chain of thoughts necessary to realize that he had, in fact, slept far longer than he had intended. He sat all the way up and spotted the water pitchers and tray on the floor near his bed.
‘Damn they’re good’ He thought drowsily, and he plopped onto the floor, sliding over to the water and food. He vanquished both foes with his customary gusto and was soon out on the street headed to his favorite feature of the city, the public bathrooms.
He had naturally abstained from relieving himself over the last few days, mostly as a basic tenant of survival in any horror setting. But now that he was back, he planned on taking his time…
A glorious thirty minutes later, the sun was rising, and Tilly was moving toward the Hamamoto manor, feeling significantly better. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows though, and not for the first time Tilly wished for some coffee. This was the place of myths and dreams, right? Someone somewhere was dreaming about a hot cup of Folgers… Tilly would bet his life on it.
Not that Tilly was a full-on addict like a lot of the guys he had worked with, but when he got a hankering, it hit hard… He found himself veering toward the Contribution Point exchange near the Valley Gate. It was part supply depot, part bank, and if anyone knew if there was coffee to be had, it would be those guys. He had not bothered with this search during his training under the time crunch of the Boon, but he could no longer deny his urges. His plans for the rest of the day could wait an hour while he checked into just how much local currency he had earned and what he could get with it.
Not to mention, he had yet to find something like a bag of holding. It would be so much more-
“Oh shit!” he cursed, stopping in the middle of the street. His pack! He had left the stupid thing outside the whyte city. It was probably getting chewed on by monsters at this very moment and the thought of those mindless idiots wasting his treasured cheddar block…
Tilly suddenly felt sick.
When he was a rookie, he had forgotten his turnout pants and boots at the station as they went out on a medical call, and while they were out, a fire had come over the radio. Tilly had searched frantically around the back of the engine and realized his mistake. Right before his captain could respond, Tilly had to tell him that he had left essential gear back at the station.
They had missed the fire, and the guys had made him wear his boots and pants for the rest of the shift. The full 19 hours of the remainder. It had sucked, and the moment had lived on in his nightmares for years afterward. Yet here he was again, reliving his rookie mistakes!
His mind raced through what else he had put in the bag and if any of it was irreplaceable. After a few moments of thought, he realized that aside from all the stuff George and Edna had gotten for him, the only thing of real value in there had been that piece of paper about getting some kind of refund.
He slapped both hands over his face in frustration, using a ludicrous amount of force, and still barely registering any sort of discomfort at the impact. As he let his arms fall back to his sides with an irritated huff, an odd crinkling sound accompanied the movement. Reaching into his sleeve, he was shocked to find that same sheet of paper, folded neatly and tucked into the arm of his jacket.
Notice of Refund - {This document can no longer be altered} It has been sealed with an official Skill. This notice of device failure must be turned in by Jonathan Tillman to be exchanged for fiat currency at any Commerce Guild location. Item cannot be lost or stolen.
He stared down at the paper, flabbergasted before sighing and continuing on to the Point Exchange with a vaguely appreciative grumble. Finally, some magic bullshit that worked in his favor. The memories of forgotten equipment drew his attention so fully, that he completely missed the line of people he passed on the street as he headed up to the wide counter of the exchange.
The building itself was a huge warehouse where they processed all the raw goods produced or collected by the Alliance. Here they either issued out said goods to the populus for Points or took in new goods, assigning points in the process. The counter to the warehouse was flanked by several cart entrances and was wide enough to create space for several attendants to process the needs of the people.
No one complained as Tilly walked up to the counter lost in his own thoughts. Seeing him, one of the lapin attendants smoothly finished up with his current interaction and slid to the side of the counter where Tilly had approached,
“Good morning Giajin, how can we help you?”
“Morning! I have a few questions for you if you don’t mind, probably stuff I should already know… but you know how it is.” he trailed off in reply, suddenly embarrassed as he looked up and noticed the line he had just bypassed, “Oh… crap.” he muttered craning his neck back down the street toward the back of the line.
Only a few of the line’s occupants looked back at him disgruntled, but most nodded or smiled at him.
“My bad… I’ll just head-”
“That won't be necessary sir,” The lapin attendant interrupted, “We would all rather you spent your time on things other than waiting in line. There is a reason leadership exists, and we have no problem serving you in this manner.” He admonished gently, as Tilly pulled his eyes away from the few people in line who would probably disagree.
“Alright, well… Here are my questions:” He stated reluctantly.
“How many contribution points do I have if any?
What is one point worth?
Do you have coffee or know what it is?
How do I get my hands on a bag or holding or something similar? Or do those even exist.?”
He finished, counting off each question on his fingers, and trying not to wince as he heard how shallow the request for coffee sounded.
The lapin jotted down a few notes and then pulled up an invisible screen, reading from it before looking up with an impressive air of professionalism, “Sir, you have 668 Contribution points. One point is worth enough food to feed an adult for a day. Coffee is not unheard of, there was even a small amount of it circulating some shops in the capitol, but we have none here. I have jotted it down to keep an eye out for when we begin to trade with larger factions. Finally, if I am understanding you correctly, you are searching for a container imbued with space-aspected Mana that can hold far more volume than its appearance would suggest. Is that correct?”
Tilly took a moment to process just how smoothly the lapin had taken in his questions and come up with helpful replies, “Uh… Yeah. Anything like that would be great.”
The attendant nodded briskly jotting down another note on his pad, “Those too, are not unheard of, but I am afraid they are even more difficult to procure. The chief difficulty with them is their inability to endure teleportation magic. The two spells are incompatible, often disastrously so. So while some do use such objects, they are not as popular as you might think.”
Tilly frowned at the wrench in his plans.
Just then three figures walked out of the wagon entrance to the Exchange, two of whom Tilly recognized and one of whom was new and easily the strangest Humanoid Tillya had seen to date.
“As you can see, we are briskly trading internally and have several very profitable resources we are excited to offer to the wider plane!” Shuji equated, waving his arms expansively around him before spotting Tilly.
“Ah yes, and here is one of the several humans to have aligned themselves with our faction!” He added, shuffling over and draping an arm over Tilly’s shoulders in a friendly fashion. Tilly smiled uncomfortably as Mateus took the opportunity to jump in.
“The church itself is looking to establish an outpost here, and have been more than willing to accept the local currency as remuneration until a Standard rate of exchange is established.” He added, his normally unflappable manner somewhat strained by the heavy-handed favoritism he was employing.
The third member of the trio stood at around seven feet tall and five feet wide. He was wearing formal clothing that reminded Tilly of industrial revolution England at the turn of the century and sported a large set of ears and a long trunk, “Gentlemen! As impressive as this rise to power has been, you must understand… The market is very unstable right now, and the Commerce Guild is hesitant to open any new chapters until things settle down…” he said, waving his thickly padded single-digit hands in a conciliatory manner.
At that answer, Mateus’ face fell, and Shuji’s huge grin died, something far more predatory peeking out for a moment, before being covered up by a look of bland disinterest, “Ah that is truly a shame” he said, snapping his fingers once and sending a few works inside running.
“I understand the pressures your institution must face in times like these…” He continued, face calm as the pair of workers came scrambling back with a heavily laden hand cart covered over with a tarp. “-But, it is also a fact universally acknowledged that with volatility comes unique opportunities…” Shuji continued, reaching over to the edge of the tarp, and flipping back its edge, revealing a pile of Dragon Glass.
The elephantine representative allowed the smallest trumpet of shock to escape his trunk before schooling his expression back to one of studied neutrality. “Ahem… is this the genuine article?” He asked in a quiet voice, looking around in suspicion at the many prying eyes on the street.
“It is guaranteed, and this is but a tenth of what we have available for trade.” Eliciting another small trumpeting gasp, Shuji continued as if he had not noticed, “ I, of course, understand your reluctance. Without a Standard of exchange, it will be much harder for us to pursue Auction membership… But I think we can both agree that it will still be more than worth our trouble. With or without you.”
As he dropped those last words, Tilly had to fight down a smile as the guild representative’s eyes got larger and larger at every word. “Huurrumph. Yes, well, In the interest of supporting promising young Factions and in light of our mission to bolster trade across the plane, I believe we can work something out…” He waffled, eyes glued to the pile revealed under the tarp.
“Wonderful!” Shuji bellowed, flipping the corner back over the pile of goods, and shooing away the attendant and the cart, “In the name of said mission, I propose a 30% guild tax reduction and an introductory note to an Auction House Auditor.”
The representative flinched, first at the sight of the Dragon Glass being hauled away, and then at the apparently exorbitant request Shuji had just made, “Discount? That's absurd man! It's unheard of! Preposterous!” He sputtered out.
“Oh dear… it seems you were right then, caution is probably the best course of action to take with such a young volatile Faction.” Shuji fired back acidically. The representative flapped his ears in duress.
“...30%... They will have my hide…” he muttered to himself, before looking back up sharply, declaring his counteroffer as if it were the encantation to a shield spell, “20% for the first 5 years!... and guild preferred status once your Auction House, membership is approved.”
“DONE!” Shuji bellowed laughing, suddenly beside the representative, pumping his huge hand enthusiastically in two of his own. The representative looked on aghast as Shuji then pulled him away, all the while continuing on enthusiastically.
