Chapter 605: They said you were a beast

Mason left Blake at an outer gate with Streak, then pinged some kind of ‘palace servant class’ button in his enormous new patron list. The sheer amount of positions listed in his profile made his head spin. There were literally thousands of civilians working for him. And who even knew how many living in the city.

Yet again he felt the urge to just go get his women, take them into the woods, and never come out again. Instead, he had to gather up a group of venomous, two-faced sycophants and ask them how the hell anything worked in this place. Then somehow he had to figure out if they were lying, and maybe come up with new ways to organize them or…

He blinked as he realized he was now officially in a ‘safe space’. He just about hammered his ‘summon Haley’ button. She swirled into existence wearing similar ‘business’ attire as before. Except this time she had a black skirt that was just small and tight enough to distract him from whatever it was he was supposed to be doing…

“Bonjour.” She grinned and looked around the marble, palace decor, trying to figure out the situation. “I wasn’t sure what you’d need.” She played with the bottom of her skirt and grinned, then flashed some kind of negligee under her top. “My

king

.”

Just seeing her calmed him in the best possible way. Like whatever his problems, they were about to get easier. And he could see the word ‘king’ got her going. Now that it was clear they were alone, she was clacking up to him in her ridiculously high heeled shoes, exaggerating the sway of those wide hips.

“I have a room full of new servants on the other side of that door.” He gestured with his head as Haley got close enough to start touching his chest.

“I have many questions,” she said, biting a lip. “I can see everything you’ve won, and I’ve been sorting through it. But I don’t know how long I can be patient. Can we deal with them quickly?”

He was about to say no, but…yes. Yes they could. The truth was, she and Blake were right—he’d won. The contest between men was over. All that was left were the tedious details, then however long they had before the doom. But these weren’t immediate dangers to his family. He was so used to everything in his life being a crisis. An emergency to be solved

right now

and nevermind what he wanted.

“I think I’m starting to realize it’s over,” he said, sliding his arms around Haley’s slim waist. “Jeong’s dead. There’s no one left to deal with. All this is just…” he waved a hand. His wife nodded like ‘now you’re getting it’.

“You did it, my love. You beat them all. And now you’ll have hundreds…” she shrugged.

“Every

player left will do as you order. Will stop fighting and work together. Because of you.”

He grinned and closed his eyes as Haley kissed his cheek, his chin.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. He pulled her in for a hug, inhaling her scent as he took a long, slow breath.

“We did it together. And there’s friends and family,” he said into her shoulder, her hands like magic as they massaged the back of his head. “Our people’s, I mean. The others are going to them. You might have someone. It’s not likely, but…”

“For now I don’t care about anyone or anything but you, my love. I’m right where I belong.”

He took another breath of her and nodded, pulling back to kiss her thick lips. She moaned against him, and the kiss got a lot deeper fast. He had the urge to tell her about the duel, or at least the near death, but decided against it. She’d learn later and he didn’t want to worry her or break the moment. He just held on, touched and kissed and enjoyed.

“OK,” he said, pulling back, already getting hard. “I really do need to deal with this, then we can be free. Becky and Demi and Lodie are around here somewhere. I don’t know the palace. We can find a room, or…” he shrugged, no idea what to do with it all.

“I have all your authority, remember?” Haley grinned. “You deal with the new servants. I’ll get to work on the rest. You can message me. I’ll have a room set up for us in the palace. I’ll arrange everything.”

He nodded, feeling some weight coming off as usual now that Haley was involved.

“I’m probably forgetting things. Ah shit, there’s civilian killers around. If you see anyone with that red aura, message me instantly. I mean they’d have to be lunatics to do anything. But there

could

be lunatics.”

As he had the thought he knew there was no way he was sending her alone anywhere.

“Sorry, Blake,” he muttered, re-summoning Streak from wherever he was. The wolf yipped into existence with a confused spin, but looked much happier when he saw Haley.

“New priority. Stay with her. If anyone looks at her funny, they lose a limb.”

Streak growled with pleased understanding. Haley rolled her eyes but scratched the giant wolf’s ears, going in for a lick and a cuddle. Then she gave that mischievous grin and a wave as she walked away, a hand to her ear like she had a damn Bluetooth device.

Mason took the time to watch her figure as she went, then looked at the servant door with a scowl. She was right. It was going to be the shortest meeting in history. He had a plan.

**

Plans usually didn’t survive contact with the enemy. Mason expected to deal with his new servants in about two minutes, but soon understood he had real and immediate problems to solve. Like dealing with all Jeong’s bullshit.

He introduced himself to the hundred or so ‘key’ servants, told them to make a list of everything they did, and asked who was in charge. Turned out it was the emperor’s wife, who no one had seen or heard from since the battle started.

Some of the positions were familiar—positions Mason hadn’t really assigned or used from his own House list like ‘seneschal’, which was some kind of chief servant. He assumed Jeong would have some awful lunatic for such a thing, but it turned out he’d gone with competence—the guy had been the head butler to the royal family of Saudi Arabia.

He was maybe mid 40s, fit and sharp looking, like an older soldier. He introduced himself without a shred of concern or ego or anything else.

“My name is Abdul-Rahman, you may call me Rahman. I am willing to serve you in the same capacity as my former employer. If not, I will assist in transitioning your new seneschal.”

That won him a lot of points. Mason wasn’t sure if it was smart to keep him or not, but decided a test was in order.

“You’re what I’ve got for now, Rahman,” he paused and took a breath, looking over the servants. “I’m guessing Jeong had prisons. Are there real criminals in them or just people he didn’t like?”

“Both,” Rahman said without hesitation. Mason nodded and met the man’s eyes, then watched his heart beat with Hunter’s Mark.

“Are such people being starved to death in this palace? Tortured? I consider just about everything Jeong did bad, Rahman. What I want to know is where he’s left suffering and misery so I can try and fix it. Is there some kind of…undead room of horrors? I want to know it all. We understand each other?”

“We do,” the man said with the same immediacy, but still no expression. “There are several places you’ll want to see. I can take you directly.”

Mason took a breath, hoping the man was something like Kiaan—a kind of professional mercenary who’s goal in life was the perfection of his craft. Requiring people to be saints to see their humanity didn’t make you good, it made you a judgmental asshole. And to get things done he was going to need help from the people who knew this city.

“Show me.”

Rahman did, gesturing for a small fleet of servants en route. He explained that Jeong’s palace was run in segments. Most servants were not allowed to go from one to the next, and in this way information and understanding was tightly controlled. Only a few, like him, had access to multiple segments.

Mason listened and said nothing. He was shown several kinds of prisons, ranging from comfortable to pure squalor. He let anyone without a murderer aura out. When he found a room full of civilian status breakers, he stared a long time.

“Who are they.”

“A mixture,” said Rahman. “Some worked for Jeong but displeased him or refused to continue with their service. Others killed his killers. Some harmed other civilians with a mixture of reasons.”

The men looked at him with abject misery. Some also with hate. Some with hope. He realized this wasn’t going to be as simple as he’d liked. He’d been running Nassau like a military camp, but the time for that was maybe ending. He was going to need more information. Trials.

“You’ll all get a chance to speak,” he said. “We’ll look for witnesses. Until then, I can’t let you out. Not when the rules don’t apply to you. You’re too dangerous. But you’ll be fed.”

Some of the men started shouting or complaining but he shook his head and closed the door. Rahman took him to more prisons. Torture chambers. Burial grounds. Undead barracks. It got worse and worse.

Haley messaged him telling him she had a surprise, and that things were ready in the ‘royal guest’ area of the palace. The contrast of how good life would be when he arrived, versus how awful it could be, was a whiplash-like effect that had him take a deep breath.

“That’s enough for now,” he said, meeting his new servant’s eyes as he stopped in a random hall. “I have a feeling we’ll be at this awhile, especially when we start dealing with the city. My people are bringing food. I’ll be spending patron points on protection and more food production. I may even bring some…magic helpers to grow those crops faster outside the city. There’s a lot that can be done.”

He watched Rahman’s eyes, and took a step closer.

“I expect you’ve done things you’re not proud of. Seeing this for a day has been bad enough. Will you help me fix it?”

The man blinked and watched him, a few cracks forming in that careful mask.

“I will,” he said.

Mason nodded and opened his Wayfinder, turning for the guest rooms.

“I’ve been mapping the palace as we walked,” he called back. “But I’ll want physical versions made. Of the palace. Of the city. Of all Jeong’s holdings. And I want a full list of players that escaped him.” He turned and met the man’s eyes again to make sure he understood. “I want to know everything. Every detail until I understand this whole place. We’ll fix the worst of it, and go from there.”

The man stared.

“They said you were a beast,” he said. “The Wolf of the West. A man who ate his enemy’s flesh.”

Mason grinned. “Don’t worry, I only eat monsters. I’ll see you in the morning. Bright and early. Come to that guest wing by the servant’s quarters. And bring anyone you think is useful. You’ll be meeting all my key people.”

“My lord?”

Mason stopped and turned, and Rahman’s eyes glazed. An icon flashed in his profile, and he saw some request opening from his new, temporary seneschal. Something about shared documents. He accepted the prompt.

“This is a list of Jeong’s private holdings and notes. It contains information about some of his stored items, as well as repeatable dungeons here in the east. I suggest you study one in particular, a kind of converter that can turn civilians into players called the Crucible. But I should warn you, it is very dangerous, and the death rate is high.”

Mason felt his eyebrows raise. A

converter

that could make new players? ‘High death rate’ sounded bad. But they had far more civilians than players. And if the choice was death in the apocalypse or a chance to help stop it…

“Thank you, Rahman. I’ll review it.”

The man bowed his head and turned away, and despite everything, Mason had a good feeling about him. Blake accused him of trusting too much, but actually he didn’t trust anyone. He just believed the best way to live was to give people a chance to let you down.

He walked through the halls, doing his best to smile at the bowing and scraping servants, forcing himself not to run. His normal speed already terrified people, and obviously they’d been calling him a monster here for months. It would take time to change hearts and minds.

He glanced at the new information, but it could wait. It could all wait. His stomach grumbled, and he pictured some ridiculous, primal scene with Haley in some see through gown, surrounded by half cooked meat.

“Fucking Cerebus,” he muttered, seeing an image of the horned god on his throne, eating and attended by nymphs. But the son of a bitch

did

have a point.