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Chapter 495 by Funatic Funatic

The clean-up was just a question of time.

A corrupt climate

The final pieces of mist drifted away at the hands of a group of air elementals. “Togeeetheeeeeer!” Sylph, the elected leader on the basis of being both the strongest and the chirpiest, instructed the efforts. “Sha-sha-sha-sha!” then they waved their hands at the mist without using any magic whatsoever. The tiny palms did very little, but it still worked. “Good job, gals and boys! You are the best, like, really, really, the best, like, super, super great!”

“Nah, you are the best, like, yeah, just the greatest of the greatest of them all, Sylph!” one of them chirped back, after which a storm of compliments being thrown at each other ensued.

John didn’t expect Sylph to snap out of it anytime soon, but then again, he also didn’t need her to. The yacht ground to a total halt next to a pier, at which point he pulled out his phone. He could do a number of things regarding the ship via an app Scarlett had designed out of sheer boredom in the hours since breakfast. Currently it worked only with her as an in-between medium, something that she had assured would be fixed soon because she didn’t want all the camera data flowing through her head at all times.

As it was a very recent and very incomplete thing, the UI and functions were all still rather raw and scarce. It felt like he was operating some ancient version of Minesweeper, with how grey and default the buttons were designed. What he was searching for was the rather easy ‘lower walkway’ function, so they could get off the boat.

Scarlett: I got it already.

The words scrolled over his screen. The Technomancer must have been staying on the bridge, which made enough sense given that she refused to come out. Whatever her plan for a public persona was, John knew for a fact there was one, apparently, she didn’t want to put it into effect just yet.

‘She better not be doing something behind my back again…’ John thought, knowing deep down that she was exactly doing something behind his back again. If the last instance, her starting the war, was any indication, it wasn’t bad for him. ‘Mhm…’ he formulated a little plan in his head, then he opened a direct channel to one of his elementals, the kind no one but his target could partake in, ‘Undine?’

‘Yes, John?’ the melodic tranquillity of the ocean elemental’s voice reached his mind.

‘I want you and Siena to keep an eye on Scarlett, just watch her and let me know if there is anything interesting going on,’ he got an affirmation a moment later and then went to Siena to repeat the order.

All the elementals were going to stay on the ship with Scarlett for the foreseeable future, but John only trusted these two to be any good at subtlety like this. Gnome would get flustered, Sylph would just straight-up blabber it out, Salamander would just confront her about it and Stirwin was a hatchling most of the time.

Undine he trusted to keep her mouth shut and just leave pieces of her around the yacht that would make spying rather inconspicuous. For Siena, the only worry John had was that her wish to play with him was bigger than her loyalty in this regard.

‘I’ve been waiting to creep inside that girl’s business,’ the shadow spirit’s answer was therefore, a nice and immediate insurance. ‘Messing with you is my joy, not others. Want me to search her dreams as well?’

Right, she could do that. John often forgot that she was a nightmare elemental because the strictly unique characteristics of that line of specialization hadn’t been useful to him in any way until now. Siena could invade people’s dreams while they slept, potentially learning useful stuff about them and their ambitions. The thing was just that potentially was the operative word there; dreams weren’t in a habit of being particularly stable experiences. Which was why Siena’s specialization was to haunt them and turn them into nightmares rather than just walk them.

That would have been another, differently weighted kind of shadow elemental. As to why Siena even was this type, her ambition to tease and people had eventually caused her to evolve past the need of them being awake. Plus, she could get away with a lot more this way. Mundane people were willing to believe a lot of things happening inside dreams.

Which was why Gaia hadn’t outright murdered her but rather demanded that something would be done about her. That was where John eventually found her in her little prison. The rest was history.

‘Don’t tell the rest about this,’ the Gamer commanded outright. As previously stated, he didn’t trust them with this. A little omission from their usual complete sharing of information. Just for a little while. John planned to tell them by the end of this vacation, he really just didn’t want them to blunder and jeopardize the mission.

He got a confirming feeling from both of them and then walked down the stretched-out path from the side of the yacht down to the pier. A little greeting committee had formed down there, although John’s arrival certainly wasn’t the reason they were there judging by their traditional looking military garb, partly torn and covered in blood, some of it their own but mostly that of the attacking Noodles.

John groaned, asking the same question for the umpteenth time, despite knowing the answer, “Why, why did they have to name these things Noodles?” One of the people in the military group must have had rather sharp ears, as he began to chuckle, then whisper what he just heard into his commander’s ear.

A woman, easily recognized on her status by her hat and the fact that she only had purple eel blood staining her otherwise unharmed dark green uniform, allowed herself a simple grin. She had long hair of an unusual, light pink colour, closer to white than Rave’s neon. As was usual for Abyssal ladies, she was gorgeous, training and magic keeping her body healthy and her skin in perfect condition. She was right up John’s alley, with an hourglass figure that no amount of uniformity could hide and long legs.

She also wore rings, one iron the other gold, on each of her ring fingers. Well, she was young but not that young anymore, Observe put her at 27 and a whooping level 74, so John wasn’t the slightest bit surprised that somebody swooped in and claimed that woman already. Doubtlessly, she had seen her fair share of attention when she was single and still got some this day.

However, John tried to keep it to himself. He had his own little harem, so he shouldn’t go around trying to seduce other people’s wives. It was already shitty if some random jock tried to do it, it would only add insult to injury if someone with his following of sexy bombshells did it. There was disrespect and then there was rubbing it in people’s faces.

“Didn’t expect such a good-looking welcome after that show,” he immediately slipped in his ambition, giving the woman, her name was Chemilia, a warm smile. Then he caught himself and cleared his throat. “Sorry, very undiplomatic of me.”

“I don’t particularly care,” she answered, “seeing how said ‘show’ is something we got some diplomats to thank for.” Eyes were cast onto her by her subordinates, and she quickly changed the topic as if she had already said too much. “Of all possible reinforcements, I didn’t expect the new arrival on the American stage.”

John raised an eyebrow, “That is odd, I told your higher-ups I would be here today.” Looking over to the cadavers swimming in the water and the slowly dissolving blood around them, he added, “I assume you usually don’t have problems like this?”

The woman let out a growl, the pupils in her eyes partly transforming into the minus-esque shape of a goat’s. “Usually not, no,” she spat out, quickly regaining her composure and normal shaped eyes. “The army has been underfunded recently.” What an un-American problem. “The government is lining its own pockets.” Well, that was right back to an American problem.

“General,” one of her subordinates dared to interject, “you shouldn’t…”

“Oh, spare me the should and shouldn’ts. This guy actually helped us, least we can do is not hide the obvious. If he has half a brain, he will have it figured out in two days anyway,” she crossed her arms. “Do you have half a brain?”

Rave interjected, slinging an arm around her boyfriend’s neck. “He has like three and a half, obnoxiously smart guy,” she joked, pointing at his legs, “plus he thinks with that thing too.”

Well, that was a language the military understood, some of them chuckled. Militaries were often depicted as these people that were broken down into disciplined little puppets, but in reality, they were people doing a very hard job, and people of that description often had rather raw humour.

John himself rather liked it; these few laughs on his behalf were perfectly fine. Having been through actual bullying, he could discern the difference between that and harmless banter. Plus, he much rather deal with straightforward soldiers than debating diplomats.

“Anyhow, how rude of me, I haven’t introduced myself,” she saluted, the heels of her heavy boots meeting with an audible clack, “General Chemilia Smith, honoured to meet the head of state of our new neighbour.”

John already knew all that from using Observe, but he didn’t need to creep her out or anything, so he waited for her to finish before answering. “Right, you already know some of us,” he gestured at the large group, “so I will spare us both the waste of time that is introducing all of us, if that is okay with you?”

It wasn’t just a question about whether or not she didn’t want to stand there hearing names all day. Whether or not she insisted would make it clear how strict she wanted to be with this foreign power taking a vacation on her guild’s soil.

She relaxed, letting her hands vanish in her pockets. “No, that won’t be necessary,” she stated. “Your arrival saved me a couple of good soldiers.” Threats that were jokes to him and her could easily spell the end for normal fighters in an engagement with such poor sight. “I am going to need some other information though. Are these people with you everyone who came with you?”

John looked over his shoulder and the girl’s behind and around him. “This is everyone who wants to visit Washington with me,” he then stated, dodging the question while giving a largely accurate answer. “Well, these and my elementals on the ship.” It just conveniently left out the one Technomancer that wanted to remain on-board.

The General either missed or didn’t care for that little play. “How long are you staying for?” she asked a second question, her tone just as friendly as before.

“About ten days,” he answered directly. Lydia’s vacation ended in nine days and he didn’t see himself staying much longer than that.

“Alright, I will have it arranged that your ship is left undisturbed in that time,” Chemilia assured him.

John opened his mouth to thank her, but a new voice went into the mix. “That is not in your jurisdiction, General,” it had the type of straight-laced tone of a man who had the authority to tell people which pencils were to be pushed.

‘The bureaucrat has arrived,’ John thought, watching the single man walking up the pier. Another early twenties fellow, in a nice suit and with a walking cane that he clearly didn’t need and decorated with the same amount of pretension.

Instantly, John found himself with a distaste for the guy, because he had the volume of a man who ate well and didn’t have to move much. In the Abyss, that translated to someone who had people fight for him.

Chemilia ignored that interception, instead growling again. “I sent for reinforcements thirty minutes ago and what comes up here is your flabby face?” she asked, causing her to immediately rise two levels in John’s admiration.

“Please, Chemilia, you SHOULD have been able to defeat these monsters with the forces you had here, easily in fact.” The general was audibly and visibly grinding her bared teeth at the unveiled accusation of incompetence. “And! We wouldn’t want any straggling monsters to reach the White House, now would we? Although, I had the courtesy of bringing a few of our finest with me,” the man stated and then, as if those points had already won the discussion, turned to bow. Not to John, not to the General, but to the other woman who made a habit out of military behaviour. “Queen Lyd-“

“Augusta,” she interrupted immediately, her eyes the grey of polished lead. “Those who disrespect their forces have no justification to wield my first name.”

John could basically see the cold sweat breaking out on the man’s forehead. ‘Seems like you bet on a horse just as arrogant as you are,’ he thought, crossing his arms with an amused smile. He didn’t need to say anything, Lydia was doing all the dirty work for him.

“My deepest apologies,” the man’s courteous bow went deeper, becoming pleading. Doubtlessly it had been his intention to leave a good impression on the queen, but he had not done his homework about the kind of character she had. “Your highness, I simply…”

“Stop,” the queen said and was immediately obeyed. “I am here on vacation together with my lover. The scandalous nature of such a visit forbids me from talking in the name of my people for the time being. Your diplomacy efforts will not yield you any results, as I am here not as queen but as my own person. State your mission and then remove your presence from my vicinity; the only talks you should be having are with John.”

That was as cut and dry as it got. “Yes, I apologize,” the man’s upper body turned towards John, who was honestly impressed about the reveal that this much mass could change direction so quickly depending from where the wind was blowing. “The Little Maryland is most honoured to have you as its guest…s,” the words were clearly rehearsed, Lydia’s name conveniently cut out and a plural sloppily added to the end. John could practically smell the nepotism. “We will see to it that you will have to deal with as little unpleasantries as you need to, including your anchoring rights.”

“So you are going to give me what I would have already gotten because I did the job you didn’t want to,” John summarized. “And it’s rather hard to believe you want to keep unpleasantries out of my way when one is bowing before me.” The Gamer leaned down and put a hand on the bureaucrat’s shoulder. “You can go now, tell your superiors they can ask General Chemilia for details later.”

With a speed uncharacteristic for a person that voluminous, the man walked away, carrying his walking stick rather than even pretending to need it. John couldn’t blame him, leaving the scene as quickly as possible was the only correct action he had taken so far.

The bureaucrat vanished amidst the earlier mentioned procession of governmental guards. They wore armour of a perfect white, like unstained paper, and did have the stance of proud and capable knights. They formed a guarding cage around the man and guided him away in lockstep.

John took his eyes off the display and pulled a contact card off the stack inside of his vest’s inner chest pocket and handed it to Chemilia. “Since your heads of government don’t seem particularly keen on letting you contact me,” he told her, suppressing an assurance she could also call him privately.

“Indeed they don’t… well, don’t let me keep you. Think we got everything important out of the way,” the General was clearly in a good mood. It must have been a while since somebody had so clearly defended her authority.

John was officially there on vacation, but he was clearly presented with an opportunity to make some valuable contacts. Sadly, he also had an appointment in the city that he couldn’t delay any further. He therefore went with a middle road solution. “Well, I would love to stay and chat, but I do need to meet someone…” he turned to Aclysia, “…could you stay here and help these good men and women clean up this mess?”

“Most certainly,” the weaponized maid nodded. “To get done more quickly, I request that Beatrice stays as well. Do you wish me to prepare these eels for the people?”

“Yup,” John nodded, “but do put some aside for our storage.”

Chemilia looked doubtful, “You can cook these things?”

She would find out in John’s absence.

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