Chapter 543: Favored by Chaos

Blake successfully seduced his civilian benefactor by the second night. A lover was far easier to manipulate, even without magic powers. She was very eager, and had a much nicer body than he’d anticipated, so it was all more enjoyable than he’d expected. It also brought a more satisfying meaning to the expression ‘pumping for information’.

After, they’d lay in bed, Carla breathing hard and staring at the ceiling with glassy, post-orgasmic eyes. Blake had taken his time and done things right. Mind powers worked much better when the target was tired, and relaxed. Seul-ki had taught him that.

“Tell me more about these groups. How many are there, exactly? And why would Jeong allow them anyway? Couldn’t he just have every player in his ‘house’?”

She sighed and shook her head.

“You don’t stop, do you.”

“A trait you’ve been so far admiring.”

Carla shook with a laugh, then rolled over and stroked his arm.

“Haven’t had a man since…all this. Don’t remember it being so good.”

Blake met her eyes and raised an impatient brow, and she sighed a little louder.

“Can’t have all the players in a house. Don’t work like that. There’s limits, or whatever. Downsides. I dunno all the details but the emperor only wants the best.”

Blake nodded but said nothing, waiting for her to go on.

“What else you ask? Oh. There’s ah…four groups? Least that I know about. Don’t know all the proper names. The Order, which is, real life Harry Potter shit with robes and wands and all. The Guards, which I guess is really ‘The City Guard’, and should be clear enough. The Delvers, which is dungeon types. And…” she frowned. “Only ever heard ‘em called The Peacocks. They do the arenas.”

Blake took that in and put his head against the wall, idly stroking Carla’s dark hair. He channeled some more emotion through Mental Influence, making sure she was eager to please. Though he had to hold her off when she got the wrong idea.

“Are there influential civilian groups? How does this emperor run things?”

Carla scoffed and flopped back down on her stomach.

“How should I know? But yeah, course there are. I’m with the Guild, which is why I get to work in the nicer spots. I pay a per cent, but it’s well worth it. There’s all kinds of other nonsense. Groups and such.”

Blake trailed kisses down her back, drawing out a moan and a smile.

“And who’s in charge of this ‘Guild’? Does the emperor have civilians in his inner circle?”

“Yeah,” she said, eyes closed. “And I dunno. What’s it got to do with which group you join anyway? Players don’t care about us civvies. Not really. Except the Jong-zoms.”

Blake blinked, feeling something flip in his gut.

“The what?”

“Hmm? Oh, you know. Er I guess not. Not sure what to call ‘em. Civvies who made some deal with the emperor. He gets…power from ‘em, I guess. Makes ‘em not quite right. Weak. Tired. Slow in the head. They get little ticks sometimes. We all call ‘em Jong-zoms. You know, for zombies.”

“And everyone knows about this? Who these people are?”

Carla shrugged, making a little whine until he started massaging her shoulders.

“No. I mean, sorta. I know who a few are. They get special treatment. Guards sometimes. They can go to the palace, or whatever.”

“This is important, Carla,” Blake said, using more mana. “I want to know who all these people are. I’ll want names. I want you to find out for me. As many as you can.”

“Names? But…why? They’re just…mm.” Carla trailed off as Blake’s attention got lower—and as he pumped her full of mana.

“I’ll get you money,” he said. “More than any group finder’s fee. Every name gets you coins. More if you have extra, like where they live. I want to impress the emperor, Carla, so that he lets me in his guild. To impress a man like that you have to know all kinds of things you shouldn’t. Understand?”

“I guess. But where does a freshy like you get civvy coin anyway?”

Blake grinned and jangled a few of his recently made coins from his bag. He’d taken to producing them permanently all afternoon.

“I told you. I did well in ‘System School’. I got all kinds of rewards. I’m a very talented young man.”

“Yes, you are,” Carla said, turning over. “And

gifted

, too.”

She was working hard to reach for said gift, and Blake eventually gave in. He slept with half his mind while he entertained Carla with the other, though

that

half was distracted with scheming and considering some new constructs, too.

He made promises and pretended to be in the grip of passion. He woke Carla again and again as if desperate for her, keeping a wide smile on her face for hours.

By the time morning arrived she’d woken up early to make him breakfast, staring at him with fearful, hopeful eyes as he ate some bacon and winked.

“You won’t stay with me,” she said, so vulnerable now. “You’ll join your fancy imperial house and forget all about me.”

He cupped her cheek and kissed her slow and soft.

“I told you, my dear. I’m a very talented,

ambitious

young man. And I’m going to need people I can trust. How would you like to sleep in a palace?”

She swallowed, on the edge of the knife, too jaded to believe such a thing, but too desperate not to.

“You don’t mean it,” she whispered, then looked away. “I don’t know why I think you could even do such a thing. I don’t know why I even…”

He pulled up her face to look at him and met her eyes.

“I’m a man of my word, Carla. I need you now, in more ways than one. And I reward loyalty.”

He took six of his ‘civvy coins’ and spread them on the crumpled sheet, along with a folded up piece of paper. As far as he understood, every coin was worth a small favor, or a minor purchase.

“I have a list of errands. The coins are for bribes, or payment, whatever. Keep what you don’t use. But there’s plenty more.”

She looked at the coin, then took the note and read with a raised eyebrow.

“This’ll take me all day, and then some. It’s all lost custom.”

Blake smiled and produced several more coins.

“Keep track of any expenses or losses. I’ll make it good.”

Carla was much happier as she counted the money. Even if she didn’t believe him, exactly, he was a handsome young man who was banging her brains out, and paying her for the experience. What did she mind if she had to do a list full of nonsense?

Blake kissed her again, knowing he was slipping back into old habits. This was an older version of who he was, a version that used and manipulated people however and whenever he needed them.

It wasn’t who he wanted to be. At least not forever. But for now the stakes were too high.

He needed information quickly, to get his hooks in this place before the clash he knew was coming. Something in his gut told him he had less time than he’d hoped. There just wasn’t time to do things pleasantly.

Whatever Jeong was, he wasn’t a fool. Blake had the impression of man who’d been the underdog before—a man beaten and underestimated in the old world. And yet here he stood, one of only a few titans in the Great Game.

Mason would underestimate him, too. For all they knew Jeong had tricked them in the arena—lost intentionally to lure Mason into a fight in the ‘real world’, needing only a single surprise.

And even if he’d truly lost, a man like that wouldn’t wait around. He’d have done something,

anything

, to balance the odds.

Blake had to find out what. He had to learn Jeong’s secrets. He had to protect his brother. Whatever that required him to do, or to become, it was a price he would pay.

Carla eventually gave him a kind of ‘guest pass’ for the building then left to do his list of chores. He sent her off with another shot of Influence and a few words of comfort, then went back to prepare himself.

He had his own list of tasks, starting with the Arcane Order. But first he had to clean up and consider his Adaptive Veil. The guise of a ‘fresh player’ was a good one, so he figured he could just use one or two powers and…

“Master?”

Blake blinked and looked at Navi floating nearby. Her blurry, cute face appeared in the dull light, but looked…concerned.

“Something is wrong, Master…I feel…I…”

A hundred colors flared, shimmering on the walls until they looked like…a school of fish. Psionic energy consumed the air, infusing and filling everything until it felt like there wasn’t a single inch of space without an oppressive force. Blake felt…trapped. Submerged.

We are surprised at you

, croaked the hundred voices of Blake’s patron god.

Your vision seems clouded. Confused. Do you not remember our shared objectives?

Blake fought to keep calm, to master his thoughts and emotions. Psion hated fools, but ‘they’ hated boredom more than anything. One had to keep them entertained.

“I’m pursuing those goals. The emperor is a rival.”

‘Whatever price’. Isn’t that what your simple, bi-sected brain shouted with both its halves? Protecting the Horned God’s favorite is not our objective.

“Mason’s successes are mine, not some god’s. His loyalty is to me.”

So you say. But we cannot know.

Psion’s fish shifted and swam up like a school in perfect harmony, then burst apart and flit all over the room.

Most men are simple

, advised the fish-god.

They cannot serve two masters. You must be more…like us. Your presence in this city is admirable. We think you are capable. We think you are worthy. And even if you are not, the other gods are moving. So too must we.

Navi flashed again, the power in the room fading and letting Blake take his first full breath since it arrived. He’d almost relaxed before the energy swirled around him, infusing him in a way he hadn’t felt since…

The system text scrolled.

[Prestige class modified: Psion’s Apprentice ==> Psion’s Avatar. All psionic-based powers: increase in clarity and understanding.]

[Power modification: Mental Partition ==> Mental Multitudes. The ‘self’ is a construct like any other. Create or destroy them just as easily.]

[Power upgrade: Primordial Making. Increased overall power, and increased risk of chaotic results.]

[Divine title received: Favored by Chaos. Psion considers you their best hope in the Great Game. All luck-based effects improved in your favor.]

Blake took deep breaths and laughed at the power infusing him. A million thoughts swirled through his mind, and he tried to shut them out and understand what was happening.

He saw himself, his life, as images on a split-screen monitor. A thousand small events were showing him make decisions, again and again, taking an infinite number of paths.

His mental ‘partition’ was stretching, coming apart with a tearing sound then like a gong in his brain. He cried out as it ripped but stayed connected, expanding like an accordion, or one of those Chinese finger traps.

He pulled, he pushed, he tried to bring himself back together. But like the finger trap he only tightened the mental hold—the feeling of being stuck in his own mind with nowhere to go but deeper.

“I’m Blake,” he said, shivering. “I’m Blake.” The ‘accordion’ collapsed and he tasted bile at the thought of trying to stretch it too far again. “I’m Blake. I’m just Blake.”

Somehow the thought now felt like a lie. Navi whirred back to life, blinking like someone who’d slept too long, or maybe did too many drugs. She met his eyes and smiled.

“Sorry, Master, I think I fell asleep! Can I help you with something?”

He ignored the construct, splitting his mind again. Then again. He couldn’t help himself. It was like a glowing red button that said ‘don’t push’. And it was getting easier now, like he could set one hand to a task and leave it alone while he used the other.

The trick was to delegate. He knew that somehow. To treat himself like a being composed of many parts, all capable of independence. He wondered for a moment if this was how roboGod felt.

He blinked then realized he’d been standing there for several minutes. And there was no time to lose. He spread out the tasks for the day, the possibilities, the beautiful unknowns.

His upgraded class promised increased clarity with his powers, and he was eager to try Primordial Making. But it could wait. For now he activated Adaptive Veil.

He watched it flare with unstable power, and could see instantly now what his problem was before. The power required constant attention. It needed to adapt based on who was observing him, to change as their attention and perception changed. It didn’t trick them. It became

exactly

what they expected.

He created an entire section of his mind just to manage it.

“Come, Navi,” he said, heading for the door and the city beyond. “We have a lot of work to do.”