"Welco," a gruff voice greets . "How may I, Leviticus Who Roams The Seas And The Sky For Eternity, Immortal Businessdemon, assist you?"
The Demon’s light-purple skin has darkened with age, his shiny black horns blunt and droopy. His grey suit, however, is brand new and creates a very strange contrast.
Leviticus is a money-making machine. He’s ’The Guy’, so to speak. If I need sothing done, I co to him. Especially to sell things.
His connections are second to none; if his talents do not fall in line with my needs, he recomnds another. I’m certain the world would be a better place with more handyn like him.
"It’s ," I drop the bags on the ground. "How much will you give for all of this?"
"Ah, little Auren, my favorite half-breed. That’s no proper greeting." Even so, he opens the bags and internally calculates the prices. "You always bring the damnest things. How’s Cabal life treating you?"
I ignore the ’half-breed’ comnt because he’s simply too old to know that it’s rather insensitive, or he just doesn’t care. He’s far more racist than I.
I’m a progressive among the non-Humans. Orcs, Beasts, Mutants, Elves, Dwarves, and my Demonic half-kin, are all fine in my book. My enmity is solely for Humanity. Albeit, I am suspicious of many Elves and Dwarves; often they align far too closely with Humans.
"Awful, but hopeful," I admit truthfully. "Council bastards have taken away my coin purse privileges, so this is what I’ve been reduced to."
"Selling one thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine high-end makeup, moisturizers, shampoos, among other varying self-care products, I see."
"Indeed. But it should be 2000."
"You know I’m never wrong."
It hits : that fucking welp of a shop clerk double-scanned my stuff. Five points down the drain. If I ever see him again, it’s on sight.
"Only when it cos to counting," I sigh. "So how much?"
"Seeing as these are from top of the line from the Dim, and how gullible the lesser races are—they absolutely tear these basic products off the shelves like animals, mind you—I think I can comfortably say... 9000 Gold."
He says ’lesser races’ as in the Orcs and Beasts. They’re less developed, I suppose, but I find no value in putting any non-Humans down.
We have all been made victim of the Hero. On behalf of Humanity, he conquered the other six other Realms. Subjugation hasn’t been kind for any of us.
"You aren’t supposed to know that they’re from the Dim," I heavily sigh this ti, staring into the old Demon’s eyes; fox-like, as ever. "And don’t you dare advertise them as such. It’ll be our heads if they’re tracked."
Information is one of his many trades. He knows about my mission. I can’t exactly bla him, nor can I have him killed. Leviticus knowing that I’ve infiltrated the Dim is dangerous for both of us and he’s smart enough to know it.
"Of course. Your secrets are safe with ... at no extra cost."
"9000 is fine." I put out my hand, and Leviticus swiftly shook it in hasty reply.
"No haggling? You know the way to this old man’s heart." His eyes lt into pure endearnt. He doesn’t truly care for ; his pupils only see his own reflection in a mountain of gold coins. Hopefully, it keeps his mouth shut for good.
In any case, the very first baby step of my plan has ended well. But this was the easy part.
Deep down, I’m just as scared shitless as before.
***
While I technically lost the equivalent of 1000 Gold in that transaction, with 1 Dim point equalling 1 Gold, it was still a better price than I’d expected, and more Gold than I truly needed.
With a thick leather pouch of coin, I made a round through the Interrealm Hub in anticipation of my future journey.
Compact camping stuff, for the most part. I splurged on dical supplies just in case I get injured. Everything else—like Artifacts or Shards—was far out of my price range.
Except for a grenade. It was within my price range. I don’t know if it works; honestly, it was quite cheap. Yes, I may or may not have gotten scamd out of a hundred gold. The jury is still out. For fucks sake, it was just so alluring sitting at one of those stalls.
It’s a new day. I’m back in my dorm room, scheming up a plan to get an Excursion Pass for free.
After mulling it over, much to my pleasure. I continue to find my initial outburst against my predicant proven childish and shortsighted.
Secrets of the past can be extrely valuable, especially if they pertain to the world’s strongest family.
In preparation for this mission, I’ve spent hours upon hours mulling over one thousand student dosiers, alongside two hundred more for the faculty. I can practically see them burned into my retinas.
Nicklas of Adeca, for instance, has beco the object of my silent wrath. I see his twerpy insignificance in my nightmares. He’s a weak, nobody of a Baron who begged his parents to splurge on the massive Dim tuition. They’re as weak and stupid as he is, so they paid for it.
He’s above-average academically and likely the weakest physically. Nicklas’ interests include history, archeology, and corruptology.
Why the fuck would you co to the Dim if you aren’t going to participate in its combat rat race, Nicklas? You fucking retard. Nine million Gold down the fucking drain.
I’m glad I haven’t run into him. I’d be forced to kill him and subsequently take my own life.
Minor hyperbole aside, one dossier remains similarly burned into my mind:
Leara of House Mateiko.
House Mateiko and their Guild have remained second to the Landeskog royalty for centuries, back to their inception as the Luikots.
It’s a blood feud. Eternally clashing over an exchange of deaths that occurred centuries before Darrow. Yet all this ti, Landeskog has remained first.
Leara is cold-blooded and intuitive. I believe we are alike. But our greatest similarity is the need for vengeance. Retribution. A scorching, irresistible urge to achieve the unachievable.
Her father, Emil Mateiko, has been a peaceful patriarch relative to his predecessors. He was willing to let bygones be bygones, and Landeskog-Mateiko relations have beco closer to peaceful competition rather than civil war.
She hates that. She hates his pacification so much that even the Cabal’s dossiers could catch on—Leara is smart enough to hold her cards extrely close, but this one seems to have slipped.
I can exploit that.
Leara will be interested in my information. As will the other heirs of the Big Five Guilds.
But she will be the only one who might engage with the information on my terms based on sheer desperation.
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