Oh. I scratched my head. These guys played big. The Looters now had a half-a-million dollar castle. And the patient spy, a hundred grand for a year in the game. Now he'd go to the Maldives for a well-deserved month in the sun before registering a new character. So how were we supposed to protect ourselves against his type?
I remembered the incident with the tobacco smoke turning into soap bubbles, giving away the nondescript individual who'd been trying to worm his way into the Vet's clan. Wonder if my invention had saved the Veterans that day from professional infiltration like the one above?
I had gleaned something, anyway. Now I had some idea of the prices people were prepared to offer for breaching a castle's defenses. In all honesty, I didn't feel like offering my services to any of the clans involved in current military actions. I had an idea, though. It looked as if most of the OMON forces were drawn to the besieged castles. What if I offered their victims the possibility to counterattack? I could remove any shield from any of the castles mentioned by the vendors. All they needed to do was assault it which would probably allow them to alter the situation and save their property, making a nice few bucks on the side. I could also make a similar offer to the ex-owners of the Silver Citadel. I had a funny feeling they wouldn't say no to the opportunity to bring it back under their control.
Very well. A quick search brought me the names of clan leaders of both Gold Net and Minediggers. I created an anonymous mail address and sent them my offer. They could forward their payment via official middlemen who, for a mere two percent, would make sure that all parties respected the fine print. All I had to do was remove the dome shield of a specific castle at a specified time. Price quoted: one million. That was it. Now I could sit back and watch the sharks and whales swarm into my net.
A double clink of gold informed me of the first bite. Sold: one dedication to Macaria and one raid offer. I was forty grand richer. Things were moving!
Clink, clink! Another bite!
Chapter Fourteen
I spent the following three hours networking non-stop, sifting through the messages that were pouring into the anonymous box. While the bulk of the letters were from the doubting and the curious and didn't merit immediate attention, those from serious buyers I had to answer on the spot as I tried to come up with the logistics of the impending operation. It looked as if it was going to be something truly extraordinary. Already I had over a hundred fifty people on the dedication list and more kept coming every minute. When two messages were dropped almost simultaneously into my inbox—two leading clans wanting to know the details—I finally realized I was losing my grip on the situation.
I closed the virtual keyboard and, forgetting, tried to lean back, losing my balance on the wobbly stool. Damn their cabinet makers!
AI's soft voice resounded in my head. Master, I've taken the liberty of saving 29 American dollars. May I offer you something to replace this sorry excuse for a chair with an ergonomic six-setting adjustable recliner bed?
What was it he'd blabbered about his emotions having been removed? His voice was rife with sleek sarcasm. I should have taught him a lesson of course, by refusing his offer and leaving myself to suffer in silence. But my heart was craving some comfort.
"Deal, you smooth operator. Where's your chair now?"
Name the desired color, please.
"Fucking purple!"
What kind of upholstery would you prefer?
"Whatever! Suede!" My annoyance started to affect my struggle with the stool's four uneven legs. Why would anyone make something like that?
The closest local analog would be the skin of a sand lizard. Unfortunately, it will increase the price of the desir-
"Chair—now!" I snapped. I didn't care anymore.
The air parted, materializing this marvel of modern design and medieval technology. With a yelp, I plonked myself onto its suede cushions and groaned with delight.
"Well done! As a reward please accept your new name: Lurch! I hereby allow you to use one percent of all the units generated for your own needs, on the condition that your activity doesn't hurt me or the castle's functions. Use it as you see fit. You could get yourself a gold weathercock or some fancy railing, you get the idea.
AI paused. Finally he spoke, his voice shaking with emotion. Thank you, Master. You've no idea how much this means to me. Thank you.
"You're welcome, Lurch. How about a bit of celebration? Some lemon tea, how about that? No chance of any cookies, I suppose? What's the situation on the kitchen front?"
AI's voice was filled with drama and regret. "The kitchen unit is status orange making it impossible to prepare dishes of over 80 difficulty. But that's not the problem. We're completely devoid of kitchen staff. Unfortunately, I don't have access to the kitchen interface. I would recommend hiring eleven sentient beings as castle staff in order to secure a bare minimum of habitability."
Bummer. More expenses. Still, he had a point. He might be a bit greedy but a castle needed some staff. I fiddled with the settings, and after five minutes the room filled with voices. First thing I hired three human chambermaids with cute faces and random-generated characters. It was more fun that way. I didn't quite get why a pretty face cost five hundred a month while the same character with the same functions but looking like an old hag was two hundred. I just hoped Taali didn't find out that I'd had choice, or she'd demand I replace all supermodel types with helpful old ladies.
Next I created a corpulent cook with +500 Culinary skill. She cost me more than all the chambermaid chicks put together, but once I'd studied the list of her skills, I gulped in expectation and pressed Confirm double quick. The portly lady's bloodline counted at least five different races endowing her with all the secrets of the numerous Elven, Dwarven, and human cuisines as well as some special meat recipes à la Orc. She also had direct access to the ingredients auction and her own bank balance which was the first thing I filled when I'd created her. Now that I had the food department out of the way, I told her to get some tea ready and went back to my work.
The incoming messages had been flashing at me for ages. I opened my inbox and hiccupped with astonishment. The auto broker balance had already exceeded three million, the number of those willing to surrender themselves into Macaria's gentle hands had reached two hundred eighty. But what made my day was the letter from the Vets where General Frag personally was asking the anonymous priest about the terms of having a seven hundred-strong clan dedicated. The General put it plainly that seven million was a bit thick and that two million would do the job nicely plus the dubious addition of their gratitude. The Vets didn't change, did they? They were still not averse to trading their friendship and pressurizing everyone with their authority. Two more similar letters from other clan leaders were still awaiting my answer.
That wasn't all. There was also a flagged letter from the auction admins informing me they had temporarily blocked the assets in my account until I fulfilled all commitments to my customers. They had assigned me a personal manager as a controller who'd just sent me another letter, introducing himself and asking about the time and place of the upcoming ritual. I clutched at my head, groaning. I needed more staff! I wasn't made of steel. Having one head had also proved pretty inadequate. But I had to make do with whatever I had at hand.