John made a disgruntled face as he moved the phone away from his ear. Reason for that motion was the nail-curling sound of bone and cartilage snapping under too much force, along with the gargled scream of someone choking on their own blood. When things became quiet, he put the phone back to his ear. “You could have just said ‘Please call me again later,’ Metra.”

“What’s the matter, John?” the berserker babe’s voice came from the other side, a tapping rhythm in the background of the call. John could just see her, nonchalantly standing in a room, the walls and herself painted with blood and gore, holding the phone in one hand and tapping the shaft of her weapon on her shoulder with the other. “Do you want to avoid all of the death your actions cause and mimic the sinless ruler?”

“There is a difference between avoiding responsibility, which I am not, and not wanting to listen to somebody’s… I think spine being squished into their lungs under slowly rising pressure from the foot of an ancient, sapient weapon of war and murder.”

“I tried to kill her fast,” Metra defended herself, “the girl was just pretty good at regenerating. Kudos to you for identifying the cause of death by sound alone though.”

“It’s a skill I would rather not have,” John grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Whatever, are you done then?”

“Yeah, base smoked out. Resistance broken.”

“…Wait, do you mean local resistance or the collective we have named the Resistance?”

“Take a guess and don’t try to insult me in the process, big boy,” Metra answered, the sound of her voice indicating that she had a giant grin on her face. “We localized their base of operation. Few of the higher-ranking members may have gotten away, but this pain in my ass is gone.”

That was tremendous news. If the south was properly pacified, then he had more troops to show as his figurative teeth whenever he decided to put diplomatic pressure on the Lake Alliance. Also, just the general advantage of having quelled the rebellion before it could spread to even more of the small guilds around that were individually weak but could turn out to be a problem if they banded together against Fusion.

‘I will have to do some sort of assembly with all of the small fries eventually, convince them to join peacefully and all that,’ John thought and already rolled his eyes at the amount of faces he would have to remember. It would be so much easier to just roll over them with an army and say that they were part of Fusion. ‘Too bad I have morals and believe in the sanctity of life and all that crap,’ he poked fun at himself. “Well done then. What are you going to do now?”

“Ted and I are going to hang around the area for a few more days, establish some garrisons, make sure nobody else is up to some shit and then we’ll return to the Hudson Barrier,” Metra summarized the plan. “Now that we got me out of the way, how are things with the Small Lake Assholes? Tournament through?”

“Tournament through, everything went without a hitch,” John reported. “First articles about Jeremiah’s double failure are already circulating. A few are worded in ways that make me read like the bad guy, but hey, the story is getting out there.”

“You should just hack their hands off for lying.”

“We don’t really do that anymore.”

“Sucks to be you then,” Metra answered, but then laughed. “I’m just kidding, that kind of censorship never worked long term anyway. I take it, you’re on the way to Amacat then?”

“Yup, about to arrive in Boston,” John answered, looking out of the window and seeing the buildings fly by the train. “We only had one delay, it was fantastic. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, you know… curiosity,” Metra was obviously dodging, but she did so with another carefree giggle, so John didn’t think much of it. “I’ll see you soon then.”

“If I get done here in a week, like planned, then yes,” John affirmed and ended the call shortly after that. The great thing about the trip to Amacat was that he didn’t have anything great planned to do there. He was essentially there to look good and talk pretty. Maybe he could get something on the way regarding integration, but the main goal was to simply allow Scarlett to do her thing that would force them into economic dependence and eventual absorption.

Which wasn’t really much work with how much stronger Fusion was and the fact that they surrounded them on all almost all sides that weren’t coast. Only the north bordered on some other guild. Basically, he was going to be like Italy negotiating a deal with Monaco.

Rave yawningly awoke when the train brakes’ shriek shook her from her sleep. “Are we finally there?” she mumbled. They had been on the road for a good bit. Having set out around ten, they were now arriving about five hours later. John had thought it would take way longer than that to get there. Which was why he had announced himself for the Amacat tomorrow.

“Yeah, and we’ll have the rest of the day off,” the Gamer answered, kissing his girlfriend awake. Enviously, Aclysia nudged closer, and he gave her a quick few kisses as well.

The person sitting opposite them, a thoroughly mundane person, had to laugh at that point. He had been there for a while, reading his book and not paying a lot of attention in the pretty crowded train. “Sorry, dude, but what the hell are you?” It was a justified question, as he had witnessed everything from the squished spleen conversation to this wild kissing with two immensely hot babes.

“I guess a single fitting word would be accomplished,” John answered with a grin before getting up, the train having ground to a total halt. The guy was evidently bored, as he followed John. Given that this was the final station and the train had to empty out completely, they were next to each other in the corridor for a little while.

“Were you roleplaying on the phone earlier or what?” the random man asked.

“I guess you could say that,” John responded fluidly. He could practically feel the raised Charisma pick his word in the perfect, smooth delivery. “Another girl on the phone, other things to talk about, you know how it is.”

“I really don’t, I only ever had one girlfriend at a time,” the guy laughed as they took slow steps along the corridor, creeping towards the door. “Are you some kind of important businessman?”

Again, a valid question, given John’s current suited-up look. “I prefer investor,” the Gamer chatted back quickly. “You won’t ever have heard of me and doubtfully ever will, I prefer to keep things private.”

“I understand, it’s just… interesting to see someone who lives in such a different world appear in a normal train, you know?”

John looked at the guy for a couple of seconds, quietly getting another Observe and a look on his aura, all to make sure he really wasn’t talking to an Abyssal. “Yeah,” he answered by the end. “We really do live in different worl-“ His words were cut short when he took the next step. While staring straight ahead, his coordination was basically perfect now, but with his head turned and him looking from the corner of his eye, his Possession given sight desynced slightly and caused him to stumble forwards.

He tried to hold onto something, but Aclysia in front of him had already taken another step, while his other hand narrowly missed the backrest of a nearby seat. Then his fall came to a sudden halt. Although weak by the measures John was used to, his mundane conversation partner had a grip strong enough to secure him.

“Guess even in your world you have some normal problems, huh?” the guy joked as he helped John back to a secure standing and then let go of the Gamer’s shoulders.

“Oh, for sure,” John agreed. The crowd suddenly moved a lot quicker, some sort of clump near the exit must have gotten resolved, and quickly after, John stepped onto the stone platform outside. “I hope you have a nice day,” he wished his short-term acquaintance, and the mundane person just waved awkwardly before walking away.

“I apologize for that,” Aclysia stated when they had gotten out of the stream of people and stopped near one of those awfully overpriced vending machines. “I should have been in position to catch in case that happened.”

“Not a problem,” John assured his weaponized maid, patting her on the head. “If you look after me too much, I won’t be able to live on my own and you wouldn’t ever get to do anything else.”

“Statement: she desires both of those outcomes,” an equally neutral and sarcastic exclamation suddenly reached John’s ears as Beatrice approached them. Like Aclysia, she wore her ‘public’ appearance, giving her black hair and a grey summer dress whose skirt was just long enough to be decent. The mole under the right side of her lips accented their sultry, pink form quite well and her green eyes were looking at him with quiet intensity when she stopped.

“We got back the serving twins,” Rave joked, looking at the two of them standing next to each other. They were the same height and there were only a few subtle differences in their exterior: the side of the mole under their lips, Beatrice’s chest being a little bit larger and, of course, the length of their hair. Twins was a completely applicable description.

The clearest difference between them was their behaviour though. “Addendum,” Beatrice ignored Rave’s statement, “Aclysia has failed to remain composed in the face of your recent scarring and consequently failed to properly execute her mission. Conclusion: she is a selfish servant interested in being close to you more than being useful.”

“That is… I…” Aclysia actually stuttered as she tried to find a way to counter these claims. “I was immensely worried about Master’s wellbeing!”

“This does not run counter to my point,” Beatrice stated, staring down her elder while laying into her. “Factually, that was the basis of my claim. After being informed that he was safe, you regardlessly decided to leave the post you were assigned to. This had the potential to jeopardize an important strategic expansion. You also used a limited resource to do so. Consequence: nothing. Alternative outcome: you might have been able to finish your mission earlier. This would have allowed me to also see him earlier.”

John didn’t want to intervene just yet, as it seemed Beatrice really needed to get this out of her system. Instead, he just let Aclysia let her head hang and mumble. “This is correct, I apologize for having acted rashly.”

“Confession: the main reason this irks me is because I was not allowed to do the same,” Beatrice said in her usual tone, although a hint of irritation made its way in there. Turning to John, she took that little bow she had copied from Aclysia when she had gotten her memories shared. “It is good to see you in good health, Master. I welcome you in Boston.”

“It is very good to see you, Beatrice,” he said and embraced her in a deep kiss that lasted for almost a full minute. She tasted of cinnamon and a sandalwood aroma filled John’s nostrils now that he was this close to her. Both things naturally sexually stimulating and, thanks to repeated usage in massage oils and incense, he had come to be trained to immediately expect sex because of. He was almost like Pavlov’s dog, except he wasn’t salivating, he just got a massive erection. When they finally separated, he mumbled, “You’re using Aclysia’s tricks now?”

“Effective and pleasing to you,” Beatrice stated with the weakest of smiles. “Conclusion: appropriation necessary.” Calmed to her usual levels by as little as that kiss, the passive maid turned back to Aclysia. “Note: I just wanted to make the point. I am not angry. No grudge holding. Let’s continue serving.”

“Yes,” the weaponized maid responded with a much broader expression of joy on her face. Then the two maids, moving with unspoken, perfect coordination, each grabbed one of John’s arms and snuggled up close.

“Oy!” Rave complained in a playful manner. “Imma let ya get away with that this time, but I have a permanent reservation on all of that guy there.”

“And I don’t like this,” John announced, to the surprise and sudden letting go of both of the maids. Before they could take a step away, he had his arms around their hips and pulled them towards him. “This is much more my style. Let’s go. I want to eat something and then…” his hands wandered a little lower, taking two grabs of the equally round and squishy asses, “…I got some worshipping to do.”

They didn’t feel like walking, so they ordered a cab. John squeezed in the backrow’s middle seat, his hips stuck between two majorly more squishy ones. He couldn’t resist more than thirty seconds, that both of the maids were leaning against him with their stupendously sexy bodies and faces didn’t help, and throughout the entire drive, his tongue was parting lips or trailing over necks. Rave minorly entertained the driver with small talk. Which didn’t stop the middle-aged guy to be so distracted by the little sighs Aclysia and Beatrice let out that, during one particular long glance in the back mirror, he drove right into the back of the car in front of them.

Luckily, they were pretty close to their destination at that point. John just threw the driver a completely oversized tip for the troubles. He did the same for the rammed party when they threatened to call the cops because of the scratch to his bumper. If he got held up any longer, either his stomach would collapse or his balls explode, and neither were feelings he was out for.

Just a corner further and they arrived. A towering building, with curved walls that were entirely windows, sitting on top of a blocky base that was dominated by yet more glass. The monotony of materials used aside, the InterContinental was an impressive building and a four-star hotel.

Yet that wasn’t John’s endpoint.

He raised his hand and he, as well as everyone in his party close enough to be affected, entered the barrier.

In typical Abyss fashion, whoever had put this barrier here initially had waited for the real world equivalent to finish, then upgraded the hell out of it with vanity and magic. Each window was surrounded by a frame of pure gold. Drones were flying in steady, smooth fashion all around, coming from somewhere in the lower floors and distributing packages by entering higher floors through holes, like bees buzzing through the hive. The words American-Canadian-Trade spanned in big, silver letters over the entrance.

‘I prefer something with more stone,’ John thought, always a fan of castles, particularly more modern looking ones, as he walked towards the entrance. “You were staying here, right?” the Gamer asked. “Which room?”

“Confusion: yes, I have been staying here, no, I didn’t have a room,” Beatrice answered.

There was no need to ask what she meant by that. John immediately understood that she had simply been standing quietly in some undisturbed corner whenever she wasn’t needed, waiting for either more instructions or for her next appointment to come along.

Glancing at the reception, he saw a queue that would take a while to resolve. The way to the restaurant, however, seemed mostly vacated. Apparently, they had arrived at a less busy hour. Although the urge to get busy with his two white-haired servants was the stronger of the two, John made the wise choice and went to satisfy the need he could without much of a hassle.