Amazon Apocalypse 4: Chapter 63

“Carter, why are there protesters outside our store?” Sakura crossed her arms while Myrina and I sat in the backroom like naughty schoolchildren.

Walking home, we’d seen the angry mob already forming outside of Doomblade’s armory. What was normally a horde of customers eager to get inside was now mixed. Half were customers, and the other half were holding up signs in protest. A few were even blocking our customers from getting inside.

I thought it was a bit of an overreaction to us kicking the asses of a crowd favorite, but I sensed there was more at work here than just us. Doomblade's Armory had made a splash in the local market, and I wasn't naive enough to not realize we'd made enemies along the way.

This wasn’t just an angry mob. This was an angry mob that was acting as cover for someone else. But what did they want?

“It’s all part of my plan!” Myrina insisted as Sakura stared the two of us down with narrowed eyes.

“I have it on good authority that it will all get better from here. A plan is in place,” I replied.

Sakura stared me down. “Who is this authority? And who made this plan? Was it Myrina?”

I looked at the ceiling, then the ground. “...maybe.”

Sakura hung her head in her hands. “Oh boy. It’s going to be a long night for me, isn’t it?”

“It can’t be that bad. I’ll just enchant more good stuff. Maybe we have to mark the prices down a little, but so what?” I shrugged.

Sakura sighed. “It’s more than that. Being so profitable despite being the new shop on the block has raised a lot of eyebrows. Some of the local merchants aren’t happy with the market changes we’re bringing, and they’re using this sudden backlash to put pressure on us. This building is technically ours, but we haven’t fully paid for it yet by contract. I’m going to have to pay it off quick so they can’t use it as leverage to put us out on the streets, but if we do that, I’m not going to be able to buy stuff to stock the shelves. Poor Gobgob’s going to be in the back room enchanting first-rate armor from third-rate used scraps.”

Myrina brightened. “Oh! I know where we can make a lot of money fast.”

“What?” Sakura raised a brow at her, clearly not expecting much.

“The arena takes bets! Take all your money and bet on us!” Myrina suggested.

“Gambling?” Sakura said, disapproval clear in her tone.

I brightened. “Yeah, everyone in the arena hates us, so I suspect most of them will bet against us. But we have a lot more tricks they haven’t seen.”

Sakura chewed her lower lip. She clearly didn’t like this turn of events. If we lost, it would cost her everything she’d worked for. The money she’d saved up would be gone, and she wouldn’t be able to buy out the building or pay for new goods to sell. We’d have to close our doors.

“We’ll kick ass. Don’t worry!” Myrina said.

"I'll need the odds heavily against you. We have a few hundred thousand contribution points to bet, but we need to double that a few times if we’re to have the capital to buy our all our partners.” Sakura wrung her hands, clearly still skeptical.

“We'll figure something out,” I promised.

Eventually, Sakura let out a loud sigh. “Alright. I’m trusting you two to save our skin.”

***

Negative gossip about us seemed to spread at a supernatural speed. I was growing increasingly certain that our detractors had taken a minor incident in the arena and were blowing it beyond all proportion to hurt our shop.

Had it just been me still, I would have closed my doors by this point and stopped selling armor completely. But Sakura would not surrender so easily.

The crowds eager to explore our store had thinned significantly. Sakura had to call in the local guard several times because the protesters were blocking customers from entering or harassing them as they left.

The first few times went easy enough, but after that, the guards started responding sluggishly. I wasn’t sure if that was because we were calling on them so often or because somebody had paid the right people bribes to slow down their response.

There were also quite a few attempts at theft, thanks to the angry mob outside. Civil unrest across all worlds was always one of the best sources of cover for looting, and soon Sakura had to replace half her staff with security and put all the goods behind counters and display cases.

It was inconvenient and frustrating for our remaining customers, which started the beginnings of a negative spiral. In her haste to stop things from getting worse, Sakura started several large sales to bring prices down and get customers back in the door. It was effective in halting our decline, but it also put our profit margins in the negatives. We couldn’t keep this up for long. It was clear now that Sakura was betting everything on our tournament wins keeping us funded. It was hard to believe we'd gone from making a fortune each day to barely staying afloat in just a matter of hours.

Despite the angry mob out front at all hours and the sudden decline in profits, Myrina was still in high spirits. She seemed not to mind our current infamy, but I wanted to keep a path of retreat open for us, that way we could take our armor off now and again and relax.

Luckily, Bridget had been busy with her new job, and the apartment she was renting for us was in her name. As long as we were discreet about coming home, things would be alright. It would be tough to go out with Sakura, since she was so publicly associated with Doomblade’s Armory, but Myrina and I could meet up with her as long as we were out of our armor. At most, people might remember Myrina and me as two of many normal workers.

Gobgob had one more set of Mark One armor repaired and set up, so I gave that to Sakura. When she was off duty, she’d change into it to disguise herself. It was working for Myrina and me, so switching things up when we were together would probably work well to hide her identity. I still hadn’t quite figured out why power armor was so good at blocking people using Examine, but it beat most commercially available disguises.

Still, while Myrina might have been perfectly happy with how things were going, and Sakura was ready to bet it all on the tournament, I knew I had to do something about this angry mob outside our door. With this many eyes on Doomblade’s Armory, someone might discover my real identity, which would ruin my later plans.

It seemed like Myrina and Sakura both had their schemes, so I hatched one of my own.

So I went to the arena outside my armor. As far as anyone else was concerned, I was just a fan.

“Excuse me, I’m wondering if I can meet Team Seraphim. I saw them fight the other day,” I said to a teller accepting tickets.

“You and everyone else,” the teller scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Listen, kid, I can’t have you harassing the talent. Get lost.”

“Oh, I swear I won’t bother them. I do really want to meet them though. I think I can help them. It’s... for my studies.” I made a big show of reaching into my shirt and fingering my jade medallion. The teller’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and I suppressed a grin. “I’ll make it worth your while if you can point me in the right direction. How does a hundred contribution points sound?”

The teller licked his lips, nodded, and soon pointed me in the right direction.

“See those stands over there behind me and to the left? That’s their team manager. Talk to her and maybe you can set up a meeting.”

I tapped my jade medallion to the teller’s simple iron one, transferring a hundred contribution points and going in the direction he’d pointed me in. Soon, I found myself seated next to a dour-faced older woman. That was my good fortune, since my charisma worked best on the opposite sex.

I approached casually, guessing her to be in early C-Grade. I figured maybe I could use a little boost, so I rummaged around in Morgathor’s Satchel for my Stylish Sunglasses. Satisfied I looked presentable, I made my way over to her.

“There are quite a few talented fighters in the open brackets, aren’t there?” I said conversationally.

The woman turned to me with a sour look on her face, but it brightened a bit as I smiled at her. High Charisma really was a cheat sometimes.

From there, it was relatively easy to sweet talk my way into a meeting with the leader of Team Seraphim.

After a quick trip down the street to the finest bakery in town for a gift, a bit of sneaking my way into an inn, and knocking on the door later, I found myself at the door of what should have been the leader of Team Seraphim.

“Hello? Larin?” I rapped on the door a few times.

“Go away!” Larin, the adventurer I was looking for, called from inside the room.

It seemed I was going to have to play dirty.

“I have Thousand Moon Golden Joyflower Cake for delivery to you. It’s from a very special fan!”

I revealed what I’d picked up at the local bakery. It was the same place Bridget was currently working, and I could see why she’d wanted to work there. This place made some truly impressive stuff. The cake I’d taken was one advertised as being able to grant a status effect that greatly lifted the mood of whoever consumed it, and could even cure depression. It was a great gift for anyone who’d just had an unpleasant experience or two.

And more importantly, it smelled irresistible. I made sure the scent wafted through the small crack under the door. Eventually, I heard the creak of a bed and the soft padding of feet.

“Fine. Hold on.”

I waited patiently while clothes ruffled behind the door. It took several minutes for Larin to get dressed enough to open the door, but I waited patiently all the while. Eventually, she threw the bolt on the other side and swung the door wide.

Despite the time she’d taken to ready herself, she still looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. Her hair was a mess, and her tunic was unbuttoned. Her eyes had bags under them, and she stared at me with a vacant expression that only lightened briefly when she saw the gift.

“As I said earlier, I come bearing gifts.” I held up the cake.

“Whose it from?” she yawned. Despite her slouched shoulders and relaxed posture, I could tell she was holding a sword just out of sight beyond the door.

“From a very special fan. Me.” I flashed her my most winning smile, and naturally, I was still wearing my stylish sunglasses.

Anybody else would have probably had the door slammed in their face, likely after having their cake stolen at swordpoint. But my winning smile bought me a few seconds of interest. That was my foot in the door. Now, all I needed was to turn that into an invitation.

“Look, I’m not really in the mood to sign anything...” Larin sighed but didn’t close the door.

“I’m just here to give you the cake. If you like, I’ll leave right after.” I smiled at her again and handed her the cake. She struggled to hold it with one hand since her other hand was still holding a sword concealed behind the door.

“Thanks. These things cost a fortune.” She balanced the cake on her palm. Only her keen adventurer instincts and steady swordswoman hands kept it from sliding out of her grip.

I expected her to bring it back to her table behind her. Or at least wait a minute or two. Instead, she leaned forward and took a bite out of the side of the cake, getting frosting over her cheeks as she ripped a chunk off with her teeth. Only about half the bite of cake made it into her mouth. The other half ended up on her face.

“Mhm. It’s even better than I thought.” She said with a full mouth.

Maybe she thought I was some love-struck aspiring suitor, and she was trying to scare me off. Maybe she just had the table manners of a gorilla. Either way, I didn’t flinch.

“You’ll make good use of it, I’m sure. But that’s not my only gift, you know.”

I revealed a few of Bridget’s biscuits. She’d left these in her apartment, and I’d raided the stash. They were excellent recovery items, and each was nearly as good as a healing potion, albeit with a short shelf life and longer regeneration time. And more importantly, I discovered they were excellent for getting rid of bruises.

“Is this some sort of conspiracy to make me too fat to fit into that fancy armor of mine so I’m forced to sell it?” Larin asked as she glared at the biscuits skeptically.

“Is it that hard to believe I come bearing gifts out of selfless good will?”

“Yeah, right...” Larin rolled her eyes. “There are few truly good people in this world.”

I had hoped she’d recognize me despite the sunglasses, but apparently not. I reached for them and pulled them off.

“Well, I can’t claim to be one of them. But now and again I’m given the chance to try and prove myself wrong.” I flashed her another smile, but this one felt a bit more genuine.

“Wait... I know you, don’t I?” Larin narrowed her eyes, before they eventually went wide. “It was you! You were the one in Tharandul’s tower. You saved my life!”

“I did what the System asked of me.” I shrugged helplessly, though inwardly I was glad she finally recognized me. I was worried I'd been too covered in blood after fighting the rogue professor for her to recognize.

“Bullshit. I know what a slayer quest is when I see one. A lot of people would have taken us out for extra experience points right after dealing with their target. Your quest was to kill him, not to free us. And yet you did it anyway.”

Larin finally threw the door wide and invited me in.

“I guess I shouldn’t leave my savior standing out in the hallway. Come in.”

She seemed to suddenly grow conscious of the cake adorning her face and stepped into the bathroom to wipe it off. She returned a minute later, looking a lot more civilized with a clean face and brushed hair. Now that I could see her, I could tell she had more than a few bruises. I winced at the thought that I’d probably made most of those.

I was born and raised a modern man, and to me hitting a woman still felt wrong, even now. I’d gotten over killing them pretty quick, but the sight of the bruises made me a bit uncomfortable.

“Sorry. I’m not fully healed from that beating I had in the arena. I should have guessed when I got some fancy armor that I wouldn’t be the only one...” She winced as she sat down.

“I don’t recall seeing you buy that armor,” I said.

Larin shook her head. “It was something the Dragon Lodge had in storage. They sent a big box of gifts so we wouldn’t complain too loudly about one of their professors using us for illegal experiments. I thought the sets we got were some sort of legendary ancient set the Dragon Lodge had deep in its vaults, but now I hear they’re made by an enchanter just down the street.”

“I hope you still find them an impressive set, despite that?”

Larin shrugged. “A few of the features are broken. It’s clear Dragon Lodge artificers tried to take these things apart and couldn’t figure out how to get them back together again. But what works is fine. At least until we are matched up against another pair of ferocious bastards who also have this super armor.”

“Your set is broken? Mind if I take a look? I can probably fix it. I’m something of an artificer,” I offered.

She shrugged as she got out some plates and forks. “In the wardrobe.”

She went back to eating the cake I’d given her but was a bit more civilized this time, and I sensed her mood lifting as she ate. That cake worked just as promised.

I went to the wardrobe, and sure enough, there was a set of Mark One power armor in there. I pulled it out with a mighty heave, looked it over, and then gave it a tap to pull all its subcomponents into normal space.

Naturally, the armor was a mess. The artificers who’d been trying to take it apart didn’t know the trick for moving the entire device into normal space, so they’d been working on it half-blind and with their hands two feet deep in another dimension.

Anything that could be unfastened was. Springs had been unhooked in a vain attempt to pull the inner lining of the armor away, and most of the cogs had been misaligned. This thing couldn’t have put more than half-power out, given its current condition. And there were a dozen other minor things wrong with it.

Someone had even tried cutting the main power lines running up and down the power armor’s spine. If not for the emergency backup power channels, the suit would have blown up. One thing was clear to me. I had to start installing more curses on my power armor as a security feature. People who didn’t know what they were doing shouldn’t mess with these things for their own safety.

Larin gasped. “What happened? How did it get so big?”

“This is maintenance mode. The power armor is much bigger than it appears. Most of the components are extradimensional, similar to a bag of holding.” I began repairs at a rapid pace, hands moving to lift the heavy parts while my telekinetic abilities did the rest. A lot of internal components were beyond salvaging under field conditions. The best I could do was swap them out with parts I had on hand. Luckily, I had a lot of sub components from Shadefall that I was looking to put to use.

“You said you were an artificer?” Larin repeated, with the air of someone who was only now taking me at my word.

“More than that. I’m the artificer who made this thing. This was one of my first models of this design. Shame it’s in such poor condition right now, but that can be fixed. I’ll update it with some security features while I’m here, too, so this sort of thing doesn’t happen again. And so people are less likely to try to steal it from you. I bet your friend’s armor is in a similar state. I can fix hers up as well. Maybe upgrade the rest of your team, if you’d like? And maybe even get you better weapons too.”

“I... well...” Larin shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure we deserve them. We might not be adventurers anymore. Things haven’t gone so well recently. First, we were captured and experimented on, then when we finally regained a little confidence we got our asses kicked before we could even make it into the tournament’s main event. I think Team Seraphim is finished. We’re probably retiring.”

I looked Larin up and down for the first time since I met her. In a lot of ways, she looked like a girl-next-door type, if your girl-next-door got into weekly knife fights and spent her weekends beating evil-doers to a pulp with her fists. Underneath her messy brown hair and slumped shoulders were lithe muscles and sharp eyes that I could feel taking in even the slightest shift in my body. I’d avoided wearing a weapon openly, since I knew it would put an adventurer like her on edge. Not that a spellcaster like me was ever unarmed.

In a lot of ways, she looked like everyone’s mental image of an adventurer, and she wore the look remarkably well. If she were on Earth, I had no doubt she’d be featured on the cover of a martial arts magazine or the face of a military recruitment program.

My mind went to a certain adventurer golem Sakura insisted on. Perhaps I could do one better. Adventurers, after all, were known to take on even the oddest of jobs.

“I must confess something, Larin. I didn’t come here strictly to chat.”

“Figures,” Larin sighed.

“I actually have a job for you and your team if you’re able to get them back together again. It would mean a lot to me if you accepted this mission. It isn’t dangerous, and I’ll even pay you well for it.”

“You saved us. Maybe that’s enough to pull Natasha and Melaria away from their bottles. I'll help, but all I can promise from the others is that they'll hear you out.”

<Note>
Sakura better not find out about Carter's secret meeting with 5 very grateful female adventurers!