Path of Dragons 14 - Chapter 15 - A Good Racket

Olaf Bruener sat in the booth, barely feeling the high-grade leather as he scanned the casino floor.  He recognized so many faces out there.  Some were regulars.  Degenerate gamblers who simply couldn’t overcome their own natures.  Others were first-timers.  Men and women who’d come to take advantage of the atmosphere, the culture, and the lack of restrictions in his city.

Meridian Lux. 

The bright light at the center of shadows. 

Olaf had never even bothered to name the surrounding city.  Its existence was necessary.  Profitable, even.  After all, the poor were even more likely to spend their hard-earned ethereum in pursuit of vice.  Many of his own soldiers preferred that sort of life, away from all the pomp and luxury of Meridian Lux. 

And Olaf didn’t discriminate.  Not like that, at least.  He would take anyone’s money. 

The idea behind Meridian Lux hadn’t truly blossomed until just before the Primal Realms were conquered.  Back then, he was just another adventurer risking his life to gain glory and levels. 

He shifted in his seat.

In the beginning, he’d gotten caught up in the same power treadmill as everyone else.  Going from a normal man to effectively superhuman was an addictive sort of grind, and one to which he was far from immune.  The feeling of gaining attributes, of slaying monsters – it was habit-forming in a way he never could have predicted.

But it was fleeting.

And it wasn’t long before he realized that he wanted something more.  However, he didn’t decide to do anything about it until he found himself sitting in a tavern and watching his teammates celebrate.  He’d been with them for years, and yet, he couldn’t understand why they were so happy.

They’d just run a tower.  They’d killed the final boss and gotten their loot, which was then appraised and sold before the profits were divided amongst them.  It was a good haul, too.  Enough to pay for a few months away from towers or fighting.  Just living.

All the others were so damned happy.

Meanwhile, Olaf just sat there, stewing in his own apathy.  At least until a formative realization occurred to him. 

None of it was real.

None of it was meant to last. 

That was why none of them mattered.  They spent all their time in towers or – if they could get a slot – Primal Realms.  And those would reset the second they exited, the conquering heroes forgotten. 

Heroes.

The very concept had lost all meaning, especially when their heroics lasted only so long as it took for them to leave their towers or Primal Realms. 

That was when Olaf decided that he no longer wanted to live the life he’d been living for most of a decade.  He didn’t want to throw himself into danger no one would remember.  He wanted to leave a mark.  A real legacy.  He wanted to be important in the real world.

So, he left his guild.  He left his friends, all of whom wanted to keep going the way they were going.  After all, the money was adequate.  Good, even.  And they could keep getting levels.  That was all they wanted.

But it didn’t take Olaf long to find other likeminded people.  In less than a year, he’d managed to gather a significantly powerful warband.  They didn’t fight imaginary monsters in towers.  They didn’t go into those hellish Primal Realms.  They preyed upon anyone they deemed weaker than them. 

Whole towns fell, and they reaped the benefits.  Money.  Captives.  Reputation. 

At some point, he transitioned the warband to a more modern model of organized crime.  Olaf had seen enough movies to know how it was all supposed to work.  Extortion was their bread and butter.  They offered protection to local towns, all for a small, monthly fee.  And if someone refused to pay?  Well, there were warbands about.  Evil men and women who wouldn’t hesitate to raid their town.

The implications were clear, and it only took a few examples before everyone fell into line.

But even that wasn’t enough.  Not for Olaf.

After five years, he was fed up with what he considered a small-time operation.  Nobody respected a criminal, no matter how ruthless.  No matter how powerful.  The best he could hope for was tolerance, and even that wasn’t always on offer.

That was when he hatched his plan for relevance.  The idea was simple enough.  Leaders of powerful cities were among the most important people on the planet.  So, he intended to build his own city.  His own seat of power. 

And that was what he did.

At first, he tried to go through the proper channels.  He tried to hire high-level Architects and Engineers.  They all refused him.  Or they had some important person refuse on their behalf. 

So, Olaf decided to just take them.

After all, he still had a warband backing him up.  And a reputation for ruthlessness.  Sure, some of those kidnappings resulted in retaliation.  There was even a small war.  But Olaf and his people emerged victorious. 

That was when he built Meridian Lux.  It was a city fortress like Kalki – entirely unassailable.  But there were more than a few places like that throughout the world.  What made Meridian Lux different was that it was meant to become a luxurious hub of decadence, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since Earth’s transformation.  The accessibility of Las Vegas.  The volume of Macau.  The prestige of Monte Carlo.  All in one facility.

It was brilliant.

There were a few issues getting things up and running.  The most difficult had been to get the Conclave to install a set of Teleportation Spires nearby. But a healthy bribe was all it took to get them onboard. 

Once that was in place, Meridian Lux took off.  It happened so fast that Olaf often wondered why a similar place hadn’t cropped up before.  Within a few months, they were so busy that they had to start turning people away.

Overnight, he’d become a person of consequence.  A man who rubbed shoulders with the true elites of the world.  So long as he kept Meridian Lux running, they would give him whatever he wanted.

Not even the Adjudicators would mess with him.

Oh, they’d tried.  Every now and again, one would come by, kick up some dust, and leave when Olaf’s people threw someone to the wolves.  But everyone knew it was just pantomime.  They didn’t want to make real changes.  They just wanted to look like they cared so they could maintain their pristine reputation.

Of all people, Olaf could understand the value of that.

However, it soon became clear that if he wanted to remain relevant, expansion was necessary.  That was where the town came in.  Not everyone could afford to get into Meridian Lux itself.  It was a place of luxury and refinement, after all.  But the surrounding city?  Well, any poor idiot with a few ethereum could take advantage of its offerings.

Olaf didn’t care what happened out there.  Not really.  So long as he got a steady stream of money, they could do whatever they wanted.

Even so, there were practical concerns – like how to feed so many people.  Importing food just wasn’t an option at that scale.  So, Olaf had attacked the problem like the warlord he’d always been.  This time, he’d targeted an isolated Druid grove.  Those nature-loving weaklings hadn’t even put up a fight, and when it was all said and done, Olaf had acquired a workforce that could turn any farm into a powerhouse of food production.

He caught some grief for it, but in the end, nobody cared about a bunch of shoeless hippies.  Not really.  They had no champion.  No protection.  They didn’t matter to anyone important.

Not long after that, Olaf actually reached demi-god.  He only had a couple of classes available, but he was told that was normal.  Some poor fools never had a single option, and they were stranded at ascendent for the rest of their lives.

But not Olaf.

One of his options focused on fighting.  The other, on the management of Meridian Lux.  He chose the latter.  Pit Boss was a domain-based class that would slowly shift him from a truly martial focus to hybrid abilities that concentrated on keeping peace within the Meridian Lux.

The first ability, The House, established his domain.  The second, acquired at level three-fifteen, was called Den of Iniquity, and it served to enhance the abilities of everyone he employed.  That included the Courtesans.  The dealers.  The thugs who worked as guards.  Even the Chefs, Entertainers, and Maids.

He’d only had the ability for a few months, but in that time, profits had more than doubled.  And things would only get better going forward, because he no longer needed to go out and kill things to gain experience.  He just needed to make money and manage his domain, and the progression would roll in.

Olaf still wasn’t happy, though.

He had everything he wanted.  Money.  Respect.  Power.  He had an entire city at his beck and call, and a warband to back it up.  And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from looking forward.  From disregarding everything he’d built in favor of whatever might come next.

He had plans for the future.  Expansion was the name of the game, and he had every intention to keep going until the entire world became his domain.

But for now, he just sat in his booth, surrounded by beautiful, powerful people, and watched his domain.  He saw them all.  The men and women taking advantage of his Courtesans.  The gluttons feeding themselves until they’d all but burst.  The gamblers always throwing down one more bet and convincing themselves that this was the moment they’d been waiting for. 

Once, Las Vegas had been known as Sin City.  Meridian Lux had long since usurped that throne, only to build its own legacy. 

“Sir?”

Olaf flicked his eyes toward the woman who’d approached.  She was a pretty thing.  An elf.  It was too bad she’d refused to work toward gaining a Courtesan class.  She would have been very popular.  Instead, she was wasted as a low-level guard. 

“What is it, Lamis?” he asked.

“There’s a man here to see you.”

“Tell him to make an appointment,” he said, taking a drag on a fat cigar.  He spread his other arm across the back of the booth.  “I don’t have time to talk to every client who wants to see me.”

“He isn’t taking no for an answer, sir.”

“Then kick him out.”

“We tried.”

“And you failed?” asked Olaf, searching his domain for the man in question.  It only took him a few moments to find him.  He blazed like a bonfire in Olaf’s senses, confirming that he was someone important.  “I see.  Bring him to me.  Alert Esme.  Tell her that we may have a problem coming.”

The girl nodded, then rushed off to obey his orders.

After that, it wasn’t long before Olaf caught sight of him.  He looked like he was ready for battle, wearing elaborately detailed, white leather armor.  He had no weapons.  His feet were all but bare, partially covered in strips of cloth.

“What can I do for you, Mr…”

“Hart.  Elijah Hart.”

“Elijah Hart is dead,” Olaf stated evenly.  The man was a legend.  He’d spent the first decade after the world’s transformation at the very top of the heap.  He’d defeated multiple Primal Realms on his own before dying in attempt to conquer another.

“I don’t know about that.  I feel pretty good for a dead guy,” the man said.  “May I sit?”

Olaf nodded, and the man slid into a seat across the table from him.

“What can I do for you?” Olaf asked.  “Food?  Drink?  A little fun for the night?”

“Just like that?”

“You are obviously powerful.  I don’t know if you’re who you say you are, and I don’t care.  You’re a man worthy of my friendship.”

“Ah.  I see.  It’s just business, is it?”

“Always.”

“I’m curious,” the man asked, leaning back.  “Was it business when you attacked that grove a while back?  I saw a few of the Druids out in the fields.  Was enslaving them business, too?”

“Like I said, it’s always business,” Olaf stated as he felt the guards respond to his call.  Hundreds of them, all proven fighters with more than a few high levels among them.  And then there was Esme.  Like him, she was a demi-god. 

“Do you have any final words?” Hart asked.

“Final words?”

“Before I kill you and rip this entire place to the ground.”

“You believe you’re capable?  Look around.  You’re in my domain now.  You’re surrounded by my people.  If you wanted to kill me, you should’ve done it before our little conversation.”

“But that isn’t what I wanted,” the man said, finally leaning forward.  “I want people to see it.  I want them to witness what it means to anger a dragon.  I want them all to understand that I’ll always come back.”

“Bold words.”

“Just the truth.”