Chapter 58: Cheaper by The Dozen

Day six of observing William Oh. The subject has engaged in several minor criminal acts. This establishes a pattern of criminality, but nothing of the magnitude I suspect. I cannot arrest him for an offense that would warrant little more than a fine.

I dare not write what I suspect him of here, as he has eyes everywhere…probably…and I’m not sure what I suspect him of…but my gut never lies!

I require more proof.

He frequents a nearby bakery. I believe he is using it as a front for his criminal organization. There seems to be some sort of code between him and the baker, as she draws a heart on his order to signal that they’re being watched.

There is a ‘now hiring’ sign on the outside. The other guards don’t believe my hunch, and are unwilling to investigate, so I’ve got no choice but to change my appearance and go undercover at the bakery.

If they catch me, and this is my last entry, please deliver this diary to the Captain of the Guard.

P.S. – also, please rip out the dog-eared pages and burn them before giving this diary journal to the Captain. They are private and that is ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW!

– Ria Smith, Guard Cadet, level 32

 

***William Oh***

“And that’s your down payment,” Will said, sliding the last ivory coin across the table. “It was nice working with you again, Mr. The Tank.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Anybody who knocks me around like that on the regular can call me Frank.” The mountain of muscle rumbled, “The ‘Real William Oh’ bit really gets the crowd fired up. Means more money for all of us.”

“And here’s your cut from the pot,” Steve said, using a flat blade to separate the massive pile of ivory coins into three equal sizes before pushing one over to Frank, and another to the Ringmaster.

“You know, kid,” Frank said, pointing a single beefy finger at Will. “There’s a tournament hosted by the Baron every year for those level twenty-five and below. It’s happening next month, and I’m guessing you qualify since you just got to the Fifth Floor?”

“I do.” Will said, nodding.

“You got some slick moves. I don’t even have to sell that tumble at the end there too hard, and I think if we weren’t in a box I might have a hard time getting my hands on you in the first place.”

“Thanks.”

“I think you’d do pretty good in your own weight class. Your damage output isn’t astounding but it’s enough to be a credible threat to most other level twenty-fives, at least. The reason I mention this is because semifinalists get tickets to attend an exclusive auction for the elite, and a bit of spending money to play with while they’re there.”

Will shared a glance with Steve.

Without stealing other Climber’s Relics mid-fight, there was little chance he could win a tournament, and that ability was something he’d rather not reveal to the public at large.

He could always try and fail, though.

“Any kind of penalty for losing?” Will asked.

“Other than the small possibility of death and the humiliation of losing? Not really.”

Will’s Resistance was very high for his level, so the odds of outright dying to an overzealous attack before he could be dragged out of the arena and healed were vanishingly slim.

The risk/reward tipped in his favor.

“…I’m interested.” Will said. He could approach this with the same attitude Mason had. If he won, great, and if he lost, he would at least know more about how he could improve.

Plus Mason would probably be interested, he seemed to really enjoy getting the stuffing beat out of him over the last week or so, and more opportunities to get their Party’s foot in the door…

Will frowned, thinking of Thea Oilton, Mason Lanover, and Alicia Zodiac. If it was a high-society auction, then did he actually need to win a tournament at all to get his Party’s foot in the door?

Probably not. I could just as easily lean on my contacts to get us an in…But getting in on my own and earning the extra spending money couldn’t hurt.

“When was that auction again?” Will asked.

“What’s all this?” Mason asked as he arrived beside the private booth, scowling at Will chatting with Frank the Tank, The Ringmaster, and Steve the Itinerant Charlatan, with a massive pile of money split between them.

“…What does it look like?” Will asked.

“It looks like you conspired with Frank the Tank, Steve and the Ringmaster to fix a exhibition matches and walk away with a cool half-mil in gold!”

“Well then it’s exactly what it looks like,” Will said with a shrug. “But this money is going into our war chest, to buy new Relics and Sacrifices for the Party. I’m not embezzling it. This is an honest grift. What would I even spend this much on if not upgrades to our Builds?”

“Well-“ Steve was about to offer some ideas, but Will gestured for him to not spoil his argument.

Mason frowned, his expression complicated as he stared at the pile of cash.

“I saw your fight.” Will said, changing the subject. “Fourth win in a row. That’s real good. Did you know there’s an official tournament that rewards tickets to an exclusive auction to the semifinalists? Might find something real good there.”

Mason nodded thoughtfully as the others gathered up their money and bid hasty farewells.

He slid into the now-empty seat across from where Will was shoveling coins into a sack. “Couldn’t we just use Alicia to get in? Or Travis’s sister?”

“Probably. But I’ve been thinking…” He met Mason’s gaze. “You and me want to be Lords, yah?”

Mason nodded.

“The defining feature of a Lord is that they’re really good at fighting other Climbers. And that they’re still alive. I think we could only benefit from getting some experience fighting others in our bracket.”

Will scooped up the last of the cash into the sack and slung it over his shoulder. “I was thinking about registering for it once I drop this off with Thea. Wanna come?”

Mason shook his head.

“Can’t. I’ve got one more fight to go against Frank today.”

“That’s Mr. The Tank to you,” Frank said from the other side of the sleazy restaurant.

“I’ve got one more fight to go against Mr. The Tank.” Mason said with a shrug.

“Try not to kill him alright?” Will asked as he stood.

“No promises,” Frank grunted.

A moment later, Will left the restaurant, whereupon he spotted a shadow withdraw into the nearby alley overlooking the restaurant.

Am I being followed?

Will raised a brow. That was weird, but it wasn’t charging after him right this second, and he needed to get his legally grey cash laundered by Ms. Oilton. It wasn’t worth chasing someone across rooftops gods knew where with a giant sack of coins over his shoulder.

It was worth chasing him, though. He currently represented an easy meal for anyone who might’ve seen through their little play and had some muscle to throw around.

And that was the first lesson he’d learned:

Never be an easy meal.

Will’s paranoia sprung to the forefront of his mind.

Without wasting any time, he sprinted up the side of the building and began dashing across rooftops straight towards Thea’s office in uptown.

He faintly heard the sound of a girl cursing as Will left the scene, Aspect of the Goat keeping him sprinting across loose rooftiles without missing a beat.

There was no pursuit afterwards that Will could detect afterwards. He sent the Phantom Hand out behind him in a tight zigzag pattern to see if it might run into an illusion or an invisible pursuer but it didn’t bump into anything.

He was pretty sure someone yelled at him for running on the roof tiles, but he passed them by too quickly for them to do anything about it.

Once he arrived at Thea’s, he waited outside her home for a moment, seeing if there was some kind of delayed arrival.

After a minute, he shrugged and went inside. If they were good enough to follow him, then Thea would have to do something about it, not Will. She was a veteran of the 8^th floor and the patron of their Party.

Will handed the dirty cash off, much to Thea’s bemusement, before heading towards the city hall, where he could sign up for the tourney…

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

But first…

Will’s feet guided him to a tiny bakery situated on a quiet side street with overpriced pastries.

Ding!

“Welcome!”

Will’s feet came to a halt as the overzealous city guard greeted him cheerfully, her expression turning to stone the instant she made eye contact.

This girl does not have a good poker face.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Ria asked, her smile stretched tight across her face as she put her hands on the counter and leaned forward in a way Will was sure she thought was flirty and provocative, but the intensity of her gaze and the tense way she held her shoulders ready for violence just made it…intimidating.

“Is um…Anna here?” Will asked, approaching the counter cautiously. The wood underneath Ria’s hands creaked in protest.

“I’m sure I can get whatever you need.” She said through clenched teeth.

Will glanced at the empty doorway leading into the back of the bakery, not seeing any sign of Anna save for some busy-sounding clattering of tools.

“…I guess I’ll have my usual then,” Will mused.

“And what’s your usual?” Ria asked hungrily.

“Six raspberry tarts, two rolls and a loaf of garlic bread.”

“Six, two…one…” Ria mused, writing the numbers down on her wrist.

“Is that Will!?” Anna’s head emerged from the doorway, brightening as she spotted him.

“Here, Anna, he asked for you specifically,” Ria said, dancing around the much shorter girl as she pranced up to the counter.

“What brings you here!?” Anna asked, but Will was busy watching Ria rubbing her chin as she walked away, muttering to herself.

“Combination? No, not every time. Drop site? Locker?” Ria muttered under her breath, but Will’s Acuity was exceptional.

Well, that’s a waste of her time, Will thought, turning his attention back to Anna, who had followed his gaze to the statuesque ‘undercover’ city guard, and was now frowning.

“You’re not gonna leave me for another baker, are you?” she said with a pout, turning her gaze back to him. Will was pretty sure she was kidding, but he still didn’t know how to respond to that. After a moment his brain caught up, and he uttered the only rational response he could think of.

“Technically I don’t think she’s a baker,” Will said.

“Nonsense, Ria’s a natural. She made an entire shelf of the fluffiest rolls you could imagine on her first try. Jean’s been trying to convince her to quit the guard and work here full time.”

“Please don’t tell me that.” Will said. “Anyway, just here for my usual, then I was gonna go sign up for the baron’s twenty-five and under tournament.”

Anna’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“I was hoping I could get beat up and someone would nurse me back to health with raspberry tarts. That’s pretty much my only reason for going.”

“That’s dumb!”

Will’s heart sank.

“Everyone knows you nurse men back to health with meat pie.” She said with a mischievous grin, letting Will’s heart off the hook.

“What-“

“-day is the tournament?” Ria said, her voice overlapping and overtaking Anna’s as she returned to the counter, her eyes intense.

“Next month sometime? I’m about to go sign up for it, so I’ll get the exact day then.”

“I’ll come with you!” Ria said eagerly. “I know city hall like the back of my hand.”

Anna frowned for a moment before her expression grew determined.

“I’ll come too!” she said, reaching behind herself and untying her apron. Ria quickly followed suit, diving into the back room.

“Where do you two think you’re going!?” an older woman’s voice cried.

“Official Guard business!” Ria’s voice called.

“What she said!” Anna’s voice followed. “Love you, Jean! Thanks for covering us!”

“Hey…what about my order!?” Will asked, pointing at the delicious pastries protected by the glass window.

Anna hustled back into the front, slipped his order in a couple baggies and took the payment before ducking under the bar and sprinting outside the building, leaving Will standing there flummoxed, holding two bags of dense bread.