John entered the restaurant with Aclysia and Beatrice. These two had changed into their maid outfits the moment they were inside the barrier. For the rest of John’s group, they were either watching over Eliza or protecting Magoi on his boat. They didn’t want to run the risk of the Fateweaver getting surprised by a fighter, however unlikely it was that someone was able to enter the barrier as long as Magoi himself didn’t want them to.

The locale was inside a luxurious marble building, the way leading up to it finely cleaned and a green carpet rolled out that stretched from the wide, roofed over entrance all the way to the reception. Several people were walking around, doing their work wordlessly with empty expressions. Everything was meticulous, to a degree a hospital would have been envious of.

‘I don’t like this,’ John thought; this degree of perfection was not achieved naturally.

The reception was a desk in front of a wall that stood in the middle of the one-room floor (bathrooms and kitchen excluded) for two purposes, which were to give a visual barrier between entrance and dining area and to hold the huge symbol made from gold, four bear claws forming a ring. Whoever designed Bearings company symbol had a sense of humour.

According to Scarlett, Bearings was one of the oldest companies in the New York area, going back all the way to the original settlement. They were founded by an opportunistic young man making a deal with a native American tribe. Peaceful trade that made both sides richer.

Based on what Observe told John about the people running the restaurant, the generations had changed the nature of the company drastically. ‘So, the reason why everything looks so perfectly clean is because these people are basically cleaning zombies,’ John thought. In a desperate attempt of humour, he added mentally. ‘See that, Beatrice, that’s how you look!’

He was of course speaking about the completely still standing woman behind the reception. “Welcome to the Finest Grape. We are a luxury restaurant. Please name yourself and or your reservation.”

‘…and sound,’ John added.

‘I disagree. I am not quite that robotic,’ Beatrice returned. ‘I just don’t care a lot due to my personality. Correction: Lack of personality. She can’t care because drugs are blocking her receptors. I am boring. She is someone. Rather, was or would be.’

‘Why do you call yourself boring?’ John wanted to know while turned to the woman. “John Newman, I am here for a reservation from Jeff Bearings.”

“Pick whatever table you want. Jeff Bearings has booked the whole restaurant for tonight,” the reception lady informed him. “However, he dislikes young people handling their electronics during conversation. You are therefore required to leave all electronic devices with me.” A counter to Scarlett’s influence without a doubt. A couple of security people came in to not only oversee the process but pat him down to see if he was hiding anything.

‘Self-deprecating humour,’ Beatrice answered. ‘Layer of traits continue to pile on top of my basic personality. I remain passive, but I am becoming more unique. Aclysia also went through this phase.’

Aclysia nodded as they sat down; she had indeed started a lot more basic than she was right now. For her it had taken a bit longer because she had been exposed to several stat changes needed to function like a basic person over time. The other two Artificial Spirits had gotten to skip that phase. Momo had needed a couple of days to become sarcastic and bantering, weeks for those traits to formulate fully. At ten days old, Beatrice wasn’t changing a lot anymore, but some small reveals were still out there.

‘I rather enjoy being myself,’ the robotic spirit added. ‘You all are a lot more emotional than I feel I would enjoy. Not caring makes for a smooth daily experience. Maybe reliable is better than smooth.’

‘But your highs are basically non-existent,’ John noted. ‘You are like a stunted sinus curve that has a range from minus 3 to plus 3 while the rest of us go from 10 to 10.’ Unless it came to sex with him, then her Aclysia-inherited instincts took over and she was as motivated as the weaponized maid to please him.

‘I do not see that as a problem,’ Beatrice told him and the conversation died there. She wasn’t wrong when she said being less emotional was good; John sure would have liked it if he could keep his cool a bit better in certain situations, such as when someone did as much as insult his girls. He was a bit volatile when it came to protecting things that were his. Probably because he had attached his happiness to a computer screen for years.

The mere suggestion that someone could come along and take from John what he had worked his way towards the past few months sent his mood into light turmoil. The kind of churning thoughts that one experienced after an argument. A whole lot of ‘what ifs’ jumped around until Aclysia and Beatrice reached for one of his hands each at the exact same moment with exactly the same gesture.

As much as Beatrice’s passiveness made her different from Aclysia, it didn’t change the fact that her current personality was based on something approaching 50% of her eldest sister’s base programming.

A waiter approached them and asked if he could bring them any appetizers in a voice that could have passed as orderly serving but was just another example of monotony now that John knew what all of this was about. After he had asked for something, the waiter bowed and disappeared again.

‘So far, I liked the strip club a lot more,’ John told Aclysia as they waited.

‘How come?’ she asked.

‘It just felt more honest. Scarlett is a ruthless person with little ethics and she met us at a place where hot chicks dance for money where she smoked and drank heavily. This whole place just reeks of pretension,’ he answered.

The perfect cleanliness, the chandelier under the ceiling, the marble floor, all of it was just so incredibly posh. Meanwhile, mindless drones that had no more say in the matter were stalking around. The Gamer suddenly had that old song in his ear ‘And I owe my soul to the company store’.

The one thing John noticed the most though were the chairs: they were absolutely marvellous to look at, but to sit in them felt like his ass and back were pressing right through the thin cushions and hit the hard wood. They were all form over function.

His bread soon arrived, and John eyed it suspiciously. It appeared as normal white bread, white flour sprinkled over the upper side, in a neat silver bowl. Served together with some salted butter to add at least some taste.

Except it wasn’t flour on the bread but some magical drug called sperulosit, at least according to the item description he got for it. He scraped some of the powder on his finger and Observed it in isolation. ‘It’s supposed to make me more suggestible, is that it?’ John thought after reading the info that popped up regarding that.

He carefully licked the little amount on his fingertip off. As he suspected, he was greeted with a ‘Drug Resisted’ window. With his level of Endurance, such a basic drug could no longer harm him, although he should stay on his toes regarding how much of it he took in. For the moment, he grabbed the pure silver knife and used it to spread some (undrugged) butter.

In the meanwhile, Aclysia was seething. ‘Poisoning Master’s food is unacceptable; RUINING food is generally unacceptable!’ she declared. John could hear the flat heel of her shoe tapping on the floor repeatedly. She was annoyed both as a servant and a chef that somebody would steep so low.

“Enjoying the bread?” a deep, charismatic voice echoed over at that moment. A man in a champagne coloured suit closed in on the table. For a person in the Abyss, he was as fat as they came, with a visible belly stretching his vest. He had brown hair that showed the first signs of greying and had an aristocratic air to him.

At his side was another man, with lifeless eyes but a body rippling with vitality. He had short, black hair and wore a full set of armour, some higher elemental alloy from the looks of it, probably something just a tier beneath Baelementium. Still, John picked up on that silent hydraulic noise when he moved, that person had some number of robotic limbs.

John had to swallow his disgust with Bearings as the fat man sat down on the opposite side of the table. By comparison, Scarlett looked like an innocent puppy. The people working for her were at least allowed to maintain their individuality, quit if they so desired (and didn’t take any dirt with them) and had ways to rise up in the company. If either of them noticed Observe breaking through their defences, they didn’t let him know.

“I do so enjoy this restaurant, which is the main reason I bought it,” Bearings announced, clapping his hands twice once he was comfortable in his chair. Despite his blatant dislike for John, his voice stayed warm and charming. A waiter immediately came their way. “Just order whatever you like.”

John stared at Bearings with cold eyes for a moment. The man hadn’t even said hello. It was apparent that he was under the impression that control of the situation squarely sat in his palm. Despite that, he never took a relaxed pose and his bodyguard stood with one hand ever close to a short sword hanging from his hips.

“I will take a slice of Turkheir,” he challenged that claim but was pleasantly surprised when the waiter just nodded. At least something good could come of this.

“A gourmet, I can respect that,” Bearings smiled broadly, “I will take the same. Too sad that we only have frozen Turkheirs, I hear fresh ones are the most delicious.”

“They are,” John agreed. “Especially if prepared over a lava pit.”

That was a sentence that threw the man off somewhat. John used the opportunity to put the bowl of bread aside, he had eaten enough to keep up appearances. Bearings added something that sounded remarkably snobby to his order and then the waiter left again.

“I did not expect you to make an offer to talk,” John extended an olive branch to get the conversation rolling. “And for it to not be a trap.”

“I did not expect you to take it so easily,” Bearings answered. “I thought I would have to coerce you for a few days at least. It seems you are as insane as my… brother,” he spat that word out with unveiled contempt, “Jackal.”

John shrugged, “What can I say? I am desperate. I thought taking over something as unorganized as Thorne would be a piece of cake and I could steamroll you all from there.”

“You were fundamentally wrong because you didn’t know your enemy well enough,” the chemical capitalist couldn’t hide his arrogance in that sentence. “You stupidly ran into an enemy that is anything but disorganized. In the process, you only helped Thorne consolidate their power over the rest of us… but I can graciously help you out.”

He paused there, making it sound like he would gain nothing in that situation. A glass of red wine was placed in front of him, probably that snobby sounding thing he wanted earlier. “Ah, Timur Delanerius,” yup, absolutely that snobby thing, if that name alone wasn’t enough, the way he stretched every syllable certainly was, “a wine distilled from red grapes from special trees growing only inside the barriers of ancient Mesopotamia, found by the great Timur dynasty. Not the ruling branch of it, but still. Legends say he had to fight a Lorylim beast to give us this wine.”

Bearings took a deep sip before being presented with a cigar by Lus, who also ignited it for him once he got there. The alchemist took a deep huff and blew the smoke right in John’s face. The Gamer could audibly hear Aclysia’s patience cracking inside her mind and Beatrice also experienced mild aggressiveness, which was three orders of magnitude over her usual feelings.

In the meanwhile, John closed the ‘Drug Resisted’ menu. Even the smoke of the man’s cigar was drugged. That begged the question how he was not experiencing any side effects. Did he have a trained resistance? A wondering Observe at the wine revealed it to have some healing qualities, so there was that.

John acted like he was too afraid to protest against the smoke. “Why would you help me?” he wanted to know instead.

“Because I want to control the person leading Thorne,” Bearings went straight-out. “I trust you to make the right decision after you gain knowledge about what I am about to tell you.” With trust, John could easily distil, the alchemist meant that even if the Gamer had that information, he couldn’t do anything of harm with it.

“I am all ears,” John said.

“Her name is Scarlett Thorne, I know about her existence thanks to a high-ranking spy I have in her company. She is a Technomancer,” Bearings told him all the things he already knew.

But John had to act the part of the fool here, so he shrugged, “And? Technomancer’s aren’t rare these days.”

“Neither are pyromancers,” hiding under the alchemists warmly correcting tone was the mocking of John’s naivety. “There is a large difference between a pyromancer and an elite. Normal Technomancers just oversee automated processes, Scarlett has the ability to spy on the whole city, and it only gets easier for her as her electronics continue to spread.”

“Sounds like someone you should kill… if she exists,” John told him with a voice full of doubt. “In the first place, you shouldn’t be keeping this a secret, then everyone would just band together against her.”

“How short-sighted of you,” Bearings gently reprimanded. “I already told you, I want to control her. That is so much more valuable than just removing her.”

In short, he didn’t want everyone to know because he strived to one day hold that power himself and them being informed would only be to his disadvantage then. Better to keep it secret and do the kidnapping quietly at an opportune moment.

“Let’s say I believe any of that nonsense,” John told Bearings, “that there is this Scarlett girl and that you have the means to control her… How does it matter? All I want is to get out of this siege situation I got myself stuck in.”

“True, true,” Bearings smiled fatherly, “just letting you know so we are on the same page. The answer is that my people will feed you intel on the coalition’s movements. You will raid weak spots and make a slow comeback, undermining Thorne’s authority. Then, when I got them dethroned as the de-facto leader of this little alliance against you, you will attack the Thorne headquarters. You will lose against my people, but not before creating so much chaos that we can abduct Scarlett out of her secret office. After you are defeated, we will make a great show out of you subjugating you and your guild to Bearings.”

It wasn’t the worst plan, John had to admit, and it would certainly work out for Bearings if John was as desperate as he caricatured himself to be. The alchemist wasn’t stupid.

Still, he was way slower than Scarlett or John.

“That plan is shit,” the Gamer stated instead, taking speech lessons from Eliza. “What kind of idiot do you fat-fuck take me for? That Scarlett thing is an obvious rouse to get me afraid, there is no Technomancer that strong. You just want me to jump headfirst into those headquarters because that’s the only way you could hope to kill me.”

“Please, you had problems with Zimmothy and Lus here is way stronger than him,” Bearings charming exterior slipped a bit as the mocking became the predominant tone in his voice. “He could kill you right here, I don’t need a large scheme for that.”

“He could, but…” John’s retort was interrupted by the slices of Turkheir finally arriving and being placed on the table. They were thick and lying in a pool of their own juice on an otherwise empty plate. The smell reached his nose and instantly caused water to gather in his mouth. “…you said you were proud of this restaurant, right?” John changed the topic after casting Observe.

“That is right,” Bearings answered with much composure.

“You should tell your chefs to cook their meat until it’s actually done,” John said, leaving Bearings confused. “Salamander, if you would.”

“With gusto,” the endflame elemental appeared right next to him, raising a hand over the plate. A torrent of grey and golden falmes consumed the elegant surface of the table. The white linen, the candle wax, the meat, it all burned.

Bearings tried to jump backwards, away from the heat, but could only howl in pain instead. Aclysia and Beatrice, armed with her dagger and a random fork respectively, nailed his meaty hands to the table. ““Never disrespect Master’s food by drugging it ever again,”” the maids threatened in unison, green eyes filled with as much (or little) hatred as they could muster.

“LUUUUUUS!” Bearings roared; his bodyguard was already mid attack. Aclysia blocked it with her forearm but immediately took a knee as if she was budging under his strength.

“You are right, he could probably kill us,” John told a blatant lie, with a voice as if he was respectful of Lus. “But not before I kill you. Your bluffs have no effects on me. You are just a fat, arrogant pig that tried to get me as another brainwashed drone.” John took a careful step backwards, and Beatrice followed suit. “We will go now, I expect you to let us or I will kill you right here.”

“You insolent…” Bearings growled but painfully aware of his hands about to enter hell. The fire had eaten away at John’s half already and was quickly spreading to where they were nailed down. “I will not forget this! I will personally make sure your corpse will be too mangled for anyone to identify! I will turn all of those girls you treasure into mindless whores, sold for profit to the highest bidder!”

Sensing her opportunity, Siena chimed in as she felt the rage boiling inside her summoner. ‘If you want me,’ she said in her overly sensual voice, ‘there is a lot of girth to him, I could work him for hours, keep him on edge.’ She ended that with a snicker. ‘I know you would like to watch.’

‘The sick stuff you come up with? No, I don’t want to watch that…’ John told her and turned, ‘anyway, not today. He is not for us to kill.’

“Try. In five days me and my guild will have finished evacuating anyway. There is no way you can mount a meaningful offensive before then,” John gave the man an artificial countdown. “I will gather power elsewhere and one day I will be back to smash you and your empire of cocaine to dust.”

Aclysia successfully disengaged Lus and followed John as he left the building, and the furious Bearings, behind.