Apocalypse Redux

Chapter 167: Back Alley Meetings

Isaac backflipped away from the next swipe of the gigantic cat-like beast’s claws, leaving his sword stuck in its throat. Just one more after this, and they’d have enough materials to fulfill every order for enriched Crimson Ore for the rest of the week.

It was a highly useful material with an incredibly lazy name, as it was literally just the ore from the Bloodore Mountain Hunting Ground which was red in color, infused with a few additional materials to improve it. The end result was a metal that could be melded together without the need for a tool, just mana and will, leaving behind no seam or other weakpoint. And this seamless meld would only occur when it was handled by a person with the intention of melding it, not when being hammered into a new shape on its own, allowing it to be turned into parts for any kind of project before being assembled by nothing more than a person with two hands and a mana pool.

All in all, it was an incredible material that many companies wanted to work with, but they were only set up for that, not procuring it. In other words, a perfect product for Isaac’s company to sell.

It was also somewhat expensive to hire people capable of harvesting the needed materials, which was why Isaac often helped out. He wasn’t getting paid for this, so it was essentially free materials.

Or at least that was what he’d thought before he’d made that statement in front of one of the beancounters and nearly gotten his head bitten off. Something about opportunity costs and how he was losing money because he could have earned more by doing something else. But as long as those costs stayed the hell off the company’s balance sheet, Isaac was happy.

Then, his phone rang, and he had to abandon both the fight and his musings.

Isaac took a step back and fished the loudly ringing device from his belt pocket while transforming the blade currently stuck in the monster’s throat into the giant sword.

Ordinarily, the result of that would have been a ruined summoning bunker, but [Absolute Blade Mastery] ensured that both the floor and ceiling stayed intact, the sword striking them as if they were immovable and indestructible objects, its expansion forcing it to fall sideways to avoid getting wedged in between the two barriers.

This might have killed the monster, given that the blade was still wedged in its body, but an eight meter long metal slab tearing its way through a living being still made a terrible mess.

“Yes?” Isaac asked as he dodged the spray, the blade clattering to the ground a moment later.

“Is this a bad time?” Brandt asked, clearly having heard the noise from the other side.

“A busy time, but it’s handled now.” Isaac assured him as he waved off the concerned faces staring at him from the door “So, what have you got for me?”

“Plenty of nothing. And by nothing, I mean the productive kind. These guys are so good at staying under the radar that once you look at something, it’s pretty damn obvious that they were involved. But …” Brandt trailed off, sighing.

“… even if you know where they were, the same thing that lets you find them means you can’t track them. Damnit.” Isaac swore softly “Send me what you got, and please, keep trying. At some point, someone has to make a mistake. Leave behind a piece of physical evidence to large or significant for their [Skills] to erase, just … something. Thank you.”

“Let’s hope you’re right. We need to get these guys.” Brandt said, then added in a rather more thoughtful tone “It’s weird, though. For all the small things I find, it doesn’t seem they’re doing anything specific, or even extreme. Just lots and lots of small grey or barely illegal thing, combined with connections to and support of serious crimes. I just don’t get what they want to do.”

“We don’t need to get it, we just need to stop it.” Isaac said “Good luck and good hunting.”

“Thanks, you too.” Brandt hung up and a couple of seconds later, the promised data arrived in an email. Once the final monster had been summoned and slain, Isaac looked it over, finding nothing actionable, only a few promising leads that Brandt had already run down and found nothing. He wouldn’t be able to get anywhere with them, but maybe another investigator would? Now if only Calise would finally find him his investigator from the other side of the law …

***

“… and next week, we’ll all be meeting in Grafenwöhr for the Spring Event. The Dean asked me to ask you if you had any good ideas that could be implemented.” Bailey finished his part of the meeting “So, has anyone come up with anything they, for some reason, waited to share?”

Ah yes, bureaucracy. They were constantly refining their processes, but the Dean somehow thought that the mere action of asking then for ideas would produce something productive.

The meeting ended after a few more ideas and projects were brought up, the others had given input or added new ideas of their own. And with it, so did the workweek.

Isaac dropped by the last summoning room that was in use to check up on his assistants and showed them a couple of new tricks they were now able to use, then headed back home. Once there, he checked all the various things he was keeping up on, and then, he finally got the message he’d been hoping to receive for a good long time.

Well, his weekend plans were out of the window, but in this case, that was a good thing.

***

Back in Italy once again. Isaac had been here more often in this timeline than the last, even though this timeline was less than a year old. And not just that, but every time he’d been here, it had been to meet with a mob boss. Not really a great look, all in all.

But it had been worth it, oh so much. Foolish summoners about to do terrible things stopped using means that weren’t exactly legal, because the mob didn’t want the world ablaze any more than he did. Dead men buy no product or something.

And without Calise, he would have had a good deal less information on the people he was hunting than he did now. Hell, he’d have probably had trouble figuring out just how bad the state of things with his target was.

Yet he was dealing with people who had blood on their hands. Isaac was not the kind of person who’d just go “it was necessary” and happily commit countless crimes in the name of “a just cause”. However, he was also someone who could look at a situation, tell that resolving it without getting his hands dirty was going to be functionally impossible, and then would do so. The real question was: had he correctly estimated what “necessary” meant in his current situation?

If his actions were ever revealed to the general public, history would judge him. And if they weren’t, it would be him judging himself with the benefit of hindsight.

Now wasn’t the time to focus on any of that though. There was a meeting to get to.

The meeting place was another restaurant, but it wasn’t Calise’s Salutation, but one he’d recommended. A neutral meeting place, with a proprietor who knew what privacy was and had [Skills] for selective deafness.

However, Isaac could see several design elements it had in common with the other restaurant. An entrance that was hard to surveil as there were few things around that would serve as an excuse for hanging around, the path from the door to the various private dining rooms wasn’t visible to anyone else who wasn’t also on that path, etc.

There was also a noted absence of surveillance devices anywhere on the premises despite being such a high-class establishment.

Dressed in his finest suit not made by his usual tailor, Isaac stepped into the entrance room.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?” the maître de asked while tensing up extremely subtly, preparing to throw out the person who might have wandered in here by mistake, or maybe was a snoop. An unfamiliar face could be trouble in this place.

“I do, under the name Holt. I’m meeting someone, though the meeting was arranged by a colleague, so I don’t know who with.” Isaac said “Are they here yet?”

“Yes, he is here already.”

That emphasis on the male gender of his meeting partner was very much received and understood. Someonewas a little too old-fashioned for this world.

“If you’ll follow me, please?”

The maître de seemed perfectly normal, hamrless and polite at first glance, but had no fewer than five Aspects slotted, a Level in the low forties and several well hidden weapons on his person.

As they headed into the building, the maître de spoke up once more.

“I’m assuming that you are aware of the rules?”

“Yes.” Isaac nodded “No snooping, no fighting, no messing with the people you meet with. This is a place for conversation to be had and deals to be struck, nothing more, nothing less.”

He’d gotten that speech from Calise and while he sincerely doubted things always went that smoothly, it wasn’t a set of rules he’d break without a damn good reason either.

Then, they arrived at their destination, a small dining room much like the one Isaac met Calise in.

However, it wasn’t empty. Instead, a man who was maybe in his late thirties was sitting at the table, a full and closed bottle of wine along with two glasses sat on the table between the two chairs.

Isaac’s meeting partner was sporting what could only be described as “the single most cliché mobster look, yet it was all an illusion. A fakeout. A [Skill] that made the user appear like what someone expected to see. All Isaac had known was that he was meeting a member of Calise’s organization and that modern day investigators could get away with a flamboyant or not nondescript appearance if they had the [Skills] to compensate for it.

“My name is Gregorio Zambon, I was sent by our mutual friend. And I’m assuming you are Mr. Holt?”

“Correct.” Isaac stated and sat down “You are the investigator.”

Zambon nodded, then a flash of surprise crossed his face, hidden well enough that even Isaac would have missed it without [Analyze Person].

“That is a very … interesting picture you have of me.”

“I’m a rich foreigner with more money, than sense, can’t you tell? I came to this place without even a way to defend myself.” Isaac replied. Normally, the delivery would have made it very clear this was a joke, but this time, there was steel in his voice and not a trace of humor to be found.

He paused for a brief moment, then continued in the same tone “Appearances are deceptive, now more than ever. I find it better to expect cliches and never read anything into them, rather than create a detailed mental image of future meeting partners that will inevitably lead me wrong.”

“An intelligent way of doing things.” Zambon said “But few people are capable of self-discipline to such a degree that they have no preconceived notions. In addition, we both know you’re hardly helpless, Mr. Holt. In fact, you are probably the single most dangerous person I’ve ever met.”

“Probably.” Isaac replied, declining to add anything “So, you’re an investigator, with an [Oath] capable of guarantying your trustworthiness, and you are available for hire?”

Zambon nodded.

“Can I ask why you’re available? It it’s something liable to blow back on me, I’d like to know. Otherwise, feel free to keep your secrets.” Isaac said.

“Thank you.” Zambon nodded again “It’s … messy, but will be resolved with my leaving the organization. An argument that spiraled out of control, one that might have eventually ended in my permanent dismissal.”

Ah yes, those kinds of internal politics.

“I understand.” Isaac said “Now, I believe there is an actual job that I wanted to offer you?

“Fundamentally, I’m in need of information about a certain group of people, who are very good at hiding. Beyond that, there are undoubtedly many things that will need investigation in the future, ones having a man of with your [Skills] and skillset would be useful with. In exchange, I’m willing to offer resources. Aspects, advanced potions whose recipes are not yet publicly known, mastercrafted pieces of gear, eventually even taught combat [Skills].

“However, I will require an [Oath] in exchange, one that states that you will keep my secrets no matter what, no matter who asks, and that you will not try to find out more about me than I choose to reveal. Even with your current set of abilities, it is inevitable that you will figure out things, however, seeking them out is not something I want.”

Zambon nodded, again. At this point, Isaac was starting to think of him as a bobblehead.

“Of course, that sounds reasonable.”

“In addition, discretion is very important to me. Information is valuable, but its value soars when no one knows you have it. If someone needs to be … negatively affected by your investigations, keep the consequences to a bare minimum.”

Isaac would have loved to say “call me and ask for permission”, but that was going to end badly. Plausible deniability was more vital than ever in this age of truth-telling magic, sadly.

They continued to talk particulars for a good bit, including what Aspects Zambon would be receiving for a signing bonus. Isaac had not only offered a list of what he had, but also a list of excellent combinations that synergizes well.

Zambon ended up choosing the more generic version of Isaac’s flight combo, blade-kinesis, and gravity nullification. That combo was still based on the gravity nullification ability of the Aspects from Ephemeral-type monsters, but instead of blades, the user would kick off pockets of temporarily solidified air using the [Gaseous Step]. It was somewhat more flexible than what Isaac did, but a bit more expensive, mana-wise.

However, before the still extremely costly magical orbs were handed over, it was time for Zambon to make his promise. His [Oath]. The words that could not be spoken in falsehood, could not be broken without the [System], the very world itself, doling out punishment.

“I, Gregorio Zambon, swear to keep your secrets, for now and for the rest of time, and to follow your orders and act as your eyes and ears in the world until the day you dismiss me, or break your end of this bargain. This is my [Oath of Vital Honor].”

Gregorio Zambon has offered you his fealty using an Oath (Oath used: Oath of Vital Honor; would you like to know more about the particulars of this Oath).

Would you like to review the wording?

Your responsibilities:

You are responsible for paying the agreed upon wages, protecting him from the direct fallout of your orders and if it is possible to do so without destroying your life, avenge him should he fall in the course of carrying out the duties you give him. Regardless, the responsibility of ensuring that his dependents (one child) are taken care of will fall to you.

You are also not to give him orders that would put him in undue danger without desperate need.

Lastly, as a boss, you must exercise common courtesy and politeness, such as allowing time off to be taken for holidays unless there is a dire emergency.

His responsibilities:

Gregorio Zambon will serve you faithfully as your right hand and investigator. Even should your professional employer-employee relationship come to an end, he will not reveal any of your secrets, whether they were given to him or unwillingly uncovered by him.

Ah yes, that particular [Oath] was actually decently common. It played on the idea of “honor among thieves”, allowing for trust to be formed in situations where there normally wouldn’t be any. A situation where “honor” was needed, or, well, vital, but could only be created by something enforceable. It wasn’t like there was a contract that could be legally enforced, not among criminals and not ones that covered criminal actions.

“Thank you.” Isaac said, then pulled a thick folder out of his storage space “This is the first assignment I have for you. These are situations I’d like you to look into, however, discretion is more important than results in these cases.”

There was silence for a brief while as Zambon looked over the assignment.

“This is quite the eclectic collection.”

“I know.” Isaac said “But if you can figure out the answers to the questions in that folder, it will be very useful. Call me once you’re done with that, then, look into the other mystery. The big one.”

And then, finally, he reached into his storage space once again, pulling out a generic briefcase that contained enough wealth that even a high ranking member of organized crime had probably not seen its like often, if ever.”

With that done, the pair soon left that quaint little restaurant, going their separate ways the moment they were out the door, one diving deep into the greatest mysteries of this time, the other going to battle the greatest foes of this era.