Bog Standard Isekai

Lumina couldn’t stay long after delivering her message, so Brin and Hogg pulled the spell down again. Brin immediately spun up some new threads to start comprehending the spell in full in case he ever needed to do the entire thing himself. One directed thread to start reading through the portions Hogg had done, another directed thread to monitor the first one and create new threads any time they failed. Then he made a conscious thread to start figuring out the words he still didn’t know. That last one returned pretty quickly.

CT1: I don’t really feel like doing this right now. Returning.

Ridiculous! But then he got the short length of memories from that thread, and it was true. After everything he’d learned from Lumina just now, he found it hard to think about something else. He put a directed thread on the case, though he doubted that it would be able to accomplish much.

“I think I've finally gotten everything I need to start taking back my holdings here in Blackcliff,” said Hogg.

Brin shook off the thoughts of threads. Right, he’d been waiting for this. “Lumina already sent you the writ from the King and the First Bank of Frenaria. What else did you need?”

“Information. Never go to battle with a [Merchant] without knowing everything there is to know about everything. They’ve got a hundred and one Skills to screw you over and the only counter is information. Today, we’ll be talking to [Merchant] Fernand Riposto about my physical property here in Blackcliff and Glyn Wogan about my shipping and commodities. Obviously I’m more worried about the second one."

“Really? Sion told me he put in a good word for you.”

“That’s why I’m worried. I mean, what should I wear? How should I act?”

“I guess wear what you always wear and act how you always act? I’m confused. You’ve done this a hundred times before. What are you worried about? Sion is a friend, and his uncle Glyn is really nice.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. You’ll see,” said Hogg. “Anyways, Fernand is up first. Let’s head over.”

Brin went to his room to change his clothes. Different clothes for working out or experimenting in the workshop weren’t really a thing here; clothes were status and everyone wanted to look the best they could at all times, but Brin kept to common sense and had something else made for working in his shop. His work clothes weren’t ugly by any means, but they’d been enchanted against fire and explosions. His day clothes were exactly as fine and elaborate as would be expected for a young rich non-noble, and no more. To match with Hogg, he chose to dress all in a professional-looking suit, all black except for a white shirt and the rainbow-colored dragon across the back of his overcoat.

The enchantments were more focused on protection from piercing damage as well as a little boost to his [Hide Status]. He showed the world the face of a moderately high-leveled [Glasser].

When he was done, he returned to the main room and predictably found that Hogg was just going to wear his black leathers like always, however a new person was in the room.

A six and a half foot tall man with severe and serious features stood waiting near the door. His skin was pearly white, his hair jet black, and his eyes were pits of jet black like the pits of hell. He wore white and black, in the style of a servant. A footman, specifically, the kind of guy who hung around nobles to do all the random little tasks that came up and generally made their bosses look important.

Most importantly, [Know What’s Real] was telling Brin that this guy was a fake. He [Inspected] him.

Name: Jeeves

Age: 1

Race: Shadow Elemental

Class: Shadebound

Level: 45

It was definitely hard light and not a Shadow Elemental. Were those even real? It was pretty intimidating, though.

Brin snickered. “Jeeves, huh?”

“Yeah, the famous [Steward] from your world. I thought it was appropriately foreign and ominous sounding,” said Hogg.

“He’s a butler, and I think his name is Reginald Jeeves in the books.”

“Even better.”

Name: Reginald Jeeves

“How are you changing the system message like this? Can I do that?”

“Have I really not taught you this? [Illusion] magic would be pretty useless if you couldn’t fool [Inspect]. We’ll go over it when we get back. For now, we need to get moving. Lumina taught you how to treat servants, right?” asked Hogg.

“Yeah,” said Brin. It was simple really; he was supposed to act like they weren’t there. To his American sensibilities that felt wrong. His upbringing told him that he should always acknowledge the staff and make sure to treat them like people. Ignoring them felt like he was acting like he was better than them, but the people here didn’t see it that way.

Servants were just people with jobs, and it made their jobs easier if they weren't forced to suck up to their customers all the time. There was probably a fine line between being overbearing and treating the servants like they were less than human, but he didn’t have a chance to find it today. Jeeves here really wasn’t human, just something Hogg had summoned.

Brin walked to the door, and when Jeeves opened it for him he gave as much notice as he would’ve the automatic door as the grocery store.

Outside in the street, there stood a pitch black carriage. It was fine and ornamented in all the ways an upper-crust carriage should, but again it was fake. A construct of hard light. The two horses leading it, on the other hand, were extremely real.

“Why a fake carriage and real horses?”

“I got a good deal on the horses,” said Hogg.

“You’re really going all-out on this [Shadow Summoner] persona. Why not at least put up a token effort to pretend to still be a [Rogue]?”

“Well for one thing, half the city saw me riding around on a giant black scorpion,” said Hogg.

“Fair point.”

“And also because of how getting my assets frozen worked out. I have to use my real identity, verified by this writ from the King, to get my stuff back. That means from now I have to do all my business as myself. I’ve thought long and hard about the face I want to show off to the world, and I think this is the way to go. If I prove that I really am a powerful shadow summoner, I might be able to hide my other abilities.”

Jeeves helped them both into the carriage, then went around to take the driver’s position. The carriage itself was not comfortable at all. He couldn’t escape the fact that the seat and floor were made of the same hard, smooth non-material, and he constantly had to sit up to keep from sliding around. The road wasn’t even and he felt every single bump and pothole as they traveled through town. The trip would’ve been much easier if they’d just walked, but obviously Hogg cared more about making an impression.

“Couldn’t you put struts and shocks on this thing?” Brin asked.

“Why would I bother? You think I’m going to make a habit of this?” Hogg groused.

Despite that, Hogg did something to make the ride a lot smoother after that, but it was too little too late. By the time they got there, Brin’s stomach was churning from motion sickness and he was eager to burst out of the wagon and get to solid ground. That wouldn’t have helped the image Hogg was trying to project so he dutifully waited until Jeeves walked around and opened the door for him.

Hogg stepped out first, and Brin came out next to stand beside him. In front of them was a large Frenarian manor house. The gardens and trees were trimmed to perfect, unnatural uniformity and the house and outbuildings were perfectly square and symmetrical. No servants were outside to greet them, which could be taken as an insult if the two of them weren’t already more than an hour late.

“Do they know to expect us?” asked Brin.

“I sent a runner. Fernand probably thinks that showing up late was a power move on my part, so he’s doing the same thing by pretending to forget we were coming,” said Hogg.

“So what do we do?” asked Brin.

Hogg cracked his neck side to side, considering. "Let's go see if anyone is home."

They walked across the empty courtyard in silence, and Brin used that time to create a few directed threads. The first two he created were assigned to snoop around the house. His normal way of doing this was to have a whole HUD with all his logs and screens visible at once, but people could tell when he was looking at something only he could see. They always assumed he was reading System messages, so instead of having the threads put the images up on screens, Brin let them record their findings in glass where he could "remember" them without moving his eyes.

A quick zip through the house revealed that only the first few rooms were furnished at all. After that, the house was very utilitarian, with rooms for storage and a few workrooms for packaging and an office for clerical work. Many of the workers were hurriedly trading their work clothes for servant garments, and with [Inspect] Brin saw them using [Hide Status] to change their apparent Classes. Neither he nor Hogg would be fooled by any of this, or course. Actually, Hogg might not know the whole of it, he might not risk his Visible Eyes here.

Brin spun up another thread, this one with a spell that could create sound audible only to Hogg, his intended target. Since he didn't want to be seen moving his lips, the spell used the Language to turn text into speech. His voice came out tinny and robotic. "He's having the whole house change clothes and pretend to be servants."

When Hogg's voice came back using a similar spell, it sounded completely real and natural. "Typical. He's going to want to make himself look richer than he really is. Make no mistake, though, this guy is pretty rich. He could afford to live the way he pretends to. That's my take, anyway. Oh, by the way, keep your eyes out of the basement. He'll have wards against illusions down there, and if you set one off it won't be a hard leap to guess that one of us is an [Illusionist]."

Brin gulped. He'd almost just given away a secret that Hogg had managed to keep his whole life, and the only thing that saved him was his own incompetence--he hadn't even noticed the secret basement.

They reached the house and Jeeves stepped forward to knock on the heavy front doors. Seconds later, the doors opened. Inside was a finely furnished hall with a chandelier and a large portrait on the far wall annotated to show that this was Fernand himself. Below that, a row of ten servants stood at attention, in addition to the two footmen.

The servants mostly tried to keep eyes forward, but Brin saw more than one pair of eyes widen as they looked at Jeeves, no doubt [Inspecting] him and realizing he wasn't something human.

Jeeves stepped to the side so that Brin and Hogg could enter. Brin carefully schooled his features, remembering to keep his eyes forward and using his Invisible Eyes to look at people. He was very aware of how he must look to these people, face firm and slightly bored, not yielding the smile that he'd practiced in the mirror to make himself look friendly and unthreatening.

A [Steward] stepped forward to greet them. "If you'll wait one moment, sirs, my master will be with you soon."

One of the women in the line discreetly stepped to a side door, no doubt to summon her master. It was all for show, Brin could see him just on the other side of the door, but he waited a half minute before coming through.

Fernand was a serious-looking man with beady eyes that barely peeked through low-hanging black eyebrows. He stepped with the quick pace of the kind of man who always had somewhere to be.

He frowned at Hogg, sinking those eyebrows even lower. "Is there any reason for this? We're all Commoners here." Turning around to his assembled staff, he said, "Go find something to do. Go on!"

The [Steward], an older gentleman, tutted. "It isn't generally done, to--"

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"I don't care," Fernand snapped. "You two, my office. Come."

He turned on his heel and hiked towards a door towards the back.

"Perhaps we could offer some refreshment--" the [Steward] started again.

"Why? If they're hungry they should've eaten before they came. They're here for business." He seemed to hesitate at the door and turned back, looking a bit uncertain. "Are you hungry?"

"No," Hogg said.

"See?" he asked the [Steward]. Then he pointed at Hogg. "I'll give you the Riposto promise. You don't waste my time and I won't waste yours."

"I appreciate that," said Hogg.

"I thought you would." Fernand entered his office and clicked the door shut behind him. With a weary sigh, the [Steward] opened it again and gestured them inside.

Brin entered to find Fernand already seated behind his desk. The office was appropriately plush, but a few details stood out to show the man’s business focus. A large document cabinet clashed a bit with the other decorations, and the surface of the desk had rubbed the lacquer off with constant use.

There was only one chair on the other side of the desk, which Hogg took so Brin stood behind him near the door. Jeeves stayed outside.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring your big spooky thug in. How’s he going to intimidate me from out there?” asked Fernand.

Hogg sighed. “I thought you said we were going to skip this part. Or maybe you actually want me to think that all those servants out there were standing around for no reason.”

“Fair enough.” Fernand opened a folder on his desk. He drew out a piece of paper and put it between them. “Is this yours?”

“Yes,” said Hogg.

Fernand frowned down at it, and Brin felt a sudden out-of-place, guilty feeling. His Mental Resistance was good enough to tell that it was foreign, that Fernand was using a Skill on him and Hogg. The Skill was trying to make him feel like he’d done something wrong and that he was going to get caught. It made him want to squirm in his seat and confess that he was a liar and a trickster.

He resisted it, of course, but he was a little surprised that Fernand was starting off with such a flagrant misuse of his Class’s powers. Most people would storm out immediately if they thought a [Merchant] was using something like this on them, and Fernand wasn’t bothering to hide it.

“This document is an attempt to claim ownership of a significant number of shares of Free Blackstone’s Consortium for Goods and Immovables, namely those shares owned by one Rhaal Stoneclaw,” said Fernand. As he spoke, the power of his Skill seemed to magnify in intensity.

Brin knew he was being screwed with, but he still wanted to confess that he was a fraud and a fake and then leave as soon as possible. He clenched his jaw against it. All those mental wars with Aberfa hadn’t been for nothing; he was impervious to this level of mental force. Still, he was glad that it wasn’t his place to say anything.

“There must be some mistake,” said Hogg.

Fernand began to tuck the document back in the folder. “I thought as much.”

“The shares in your company are only a small part of my claim. I also left a significant amount of inventory in your warehouses,” said Hogg.

“Significant inventory carries significant storage fees, particularly when the client in question disappears for two years without a word. That’s something that I would expect Mr. Stoneclaw, an Ollandish gentleman with whom I’ve had a nearly decade-long partnership with, to understand.”

Hogg laughed. “If you really held onto it for this long then you’re not the same Fernand Riposto I’ve been working with all this time. But if that’s the case, then sure, hand it all over and I’ll pay the fee.”

“Mr. Blackclaw will have to contend with that, when he returns,” Fernand said stubbornly.

Hogg leaned back in his seat. “You have everything you need to verify my identity.”

“Documents,” Fernand said, waving as if he smelled a stink. “You don’t even look like Mr. Stoneclaw. How am I supposed to believe you’re really the man I’ve been corresponding with all these years? It would be much easier to believe that documents can be forged.”

Hogg stood up. “Fine. Then follow your original instructions from the king. Liquidate all my assets, buy out the shares of the company, and send the cash to the bank in Steamshield. I’ll rely on the Royal Auditors to make sure you gave me a fair price.”

Fernand stood as well, to catch Hogg’s jacket and keep him from leaving. “Let’s not be so hasty.”

“How about let’s not waste each-other’s time? Am I your associate who operated in the past under the pseudonym Rhaal Stoneclaw, or am I an imposter? Decide now.”

Fernand winced. “I’ll need to retain the services of a [Solicitor] to–”

“You’ve had time to hire a [Solicitor] if you wanted. A decision, please.”

“As for the cost of a [Solicitor]...”

“I’m not paying. Decide.”

Fernand collapsed back into his chair. He sighed. “Welcome back, Mr. Stoneclaw. Only, how shall I address you this time?”

“Hogg.” He sat as well, smoothing the folds of his leather coat.

“Just Hogg?” asked Fernand.

If Brin hoped that another piece of dad lore would drop and he’d finally get to hear Hogg’s last name, he was disappointed. Hogg furrowed his brows and said nothing more.

The pressure of the [Merchant’s] mind-altering Skills lessened, and Brin expected that the bulk of the negotiations had finished, but again he was disappointed. Fernand then tried to get Hogg to agree to pay the costs of storing all his inventory this entire time. When Hogg forced him to reveal that he hadn’t actually kept any of the inventory and it had all been traded away, he tried to retroactively haggle away the price of every single item. For some of the items, Fernand was able to produce the records of exactly what he’d sold it for, but for many others he claimed that he didn’t remember where it had gone or that he’d had an untalented subordinate sell it at a loss.

“Now the salt, that was a bit difficult to find a buyer. There are Classes who can make salt from sand, you know, not to mention those who can draw it out of the sea. I had to let it go for–”

“Four copper pence per pound,” Hogg stated.

“Four pence! Perhaps you’ve seen the street price, but small amounts can be sold for a mark-up. In bulk, salt is practically useless. I had to let it go for–”

“Two copper pence and three bits,” said Hogg.

Fernand licked his lip. “One copper, seven bits.”

Hogg shook his head. “Do you think I’m haggling? Who would haggle with a [Merchant]? I’m telling you the price. Two copper pence and three bits.”

“Perhaps that’s the price now, but a year and a half ago when I offloaded it–”

“Is not my problem. If you’ve been selling low and buying high then you aren’t the man I want to be in business with.”

“Two copper pence and three bits,” Fernand conceded. “Now as for the tableware they come it–”

Fernand brought up all kinds of random things, too. Silverware, and spices. Metals and magic tools. Leather and lettuce. For every single item, Hogg revealed the depth of his preparation. He knew the exact price of everything on the list and refused to budge an inch, no matter what Fernand tried. Perhaps if he’d been drawn in to haggling, Fernand’s Skills would’ve activated and Hogg could’ve been worn down, but his strategy of knowing the correct price and sticking to it no matter what seemed to be the hard counter to Fernand’s Class.

That only worked when both Fernand and Hogg knew he was right, though. Brin thought there might be Wyrd rules working there; if Hogg was ever mistaken as to the going rate or if he tried to bluff or lie, then he would be drawn into Fernand’s power.

Once during the negotiations, Hogg spoke to Brin using the silent voice they’d been using earlier. “We’re coming up on glass. When he names a price, laugh.”

“...no less than one silver and eight pence for the fine wine glasses. Can you believe he paid that much?”

Brin shook as if restraining a laugh, then barked out a loud “Ha!” before clapping his hands to his mouth. “Excuse me.”

Fernand glared up at him. “Tell me, Hogg. Is there a reason for the presence of this… strange lost child?”

“Brin is my heir. Why shouldn’t he be here? He’ll need to take over some day. So what’s the story, Brin? How much for a wine glass?”

“Unless it’s so cloudy you can’t see the wine, it should sell for two silvers a piece.”

“And how much can I reduce the price for bulk? Let’s say for an order of forty?” Fernand asked with a smirk.

“Reduce? If you want forty wine glasses that all match, then you expect a markup! There aren’t many [Glassers] that can be that consistent. I’d round it off to a nice hundred silver,” said Brin.

“Ninety-eight point six!” Hogg said urgently in the Silent Voice. “[Merchants] never round anything!”

“Or ninety-eight point six if we’re being exact,” Brin finished.

Fernand frowned, and didn’t put up even a token resistance. “Moving on…”

“Wait,” Hogg said to Brin in the Silent Voice again. “I’m starting to think I screwed up with the apples. The variety he’s listed is different from the one I remember. I need you to find them for me. They’re called Blouthe’s Pearls.”

“I’ll try, but does it really matter that much? We’ve already got everything else.”

“If I start haggling with him, I’ll be under the power of his Skills. There’s no telling what he’ll be able to get me to agree to. Just find it!”

Brin immediately spun up a directed thread to send out an Invisible Eye. He thought about creating a conscious thread to monitor it, but then decided to do that himself. He wasn’t doing anything other than standing here listening.

The Invisible Eye careened down the street, moving faster than Hogg’s Visible Eye would’ve been able to, and quickly found the market. He ignored the stalls and tables in the open air market, and zipped straight over to the one grocer who had a physical storefront. “Mard’s Grocery.”

Mard’s was much different from an Earth grocery store. Instead of tables and shelves where people could browse at their own convenience, all the inventory was behind a wall, and you had to tell the workers behind the counter what you wanted so they could fetch it for you. It prevented theft, and also stopped grannies from squeezing the melons. The inconvenience of it should've made it fail, but the [Porters] and [Sellers] that worked the counter had Skills that helped them fetch it so fast it was in your bag faster than you could say what you wanted.

It meant that the line was never very long, but there was always a line at Mard’s. How was he supposed to do this? He’d imagined that he could have a Mirror Image ask for the price, but he really didn’t want to wait for a line.

He sent off a directed thread to create a Mirror Image and then wait in line with it in case everything else failed, but in the meantime he could try something else.

“Do you have Blouthe’s Pearls?” Brin asked with his robotic text-to-speech voice.

“Pearls? We don’t sell pearls,” responded the [Seller], a young man.

The customer in line was a distracted-looking older woman, who said, “Hm? I said nothing of pearls.”

“Blouthe’s Pearl Apples!” Brin said.

“Who’s talking?” asked the [Seller], peering around the woman, who herself was now looking around trying to figure it out.

“We have them, but you’ll have to wait in line. Um. Sir?” said the [Seller].

“How much?” Brin demanded.

“Um, whoever you are, you’ll need to wait your turn please!” the [Seller] responded.

Brin sent the Invisible Eye into the back. Rows of every kind of fruit, vegetable and bread were all stored in neat rows, and luckily everything was labeled. He zipped over to the fruit section and quickly found the exact apple he was looking for.

It was a bit pinker than most apples, with a dull smooth skin devoid of wax. Great, now he knew what it looked like, but he was no closer to the price. Value Sense would tell him what they were worth, but he'd learned that there was a big difference between something's value and what a [Merchant] would actually sell it for. He made a new directed thread, and started it on the Copy Light spell.

Maybe he could– oh crap, back in the [Merchant’s] house, Fernand was already asking about the apples.

“...quite an unpopular variety, you know,” Fernand was saying.

“Unpopular?” Brin asked, faking offense. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same apple?”

“Don’t interrupt, child. I’ve tolerated your presence, but I won’t tolerate tantrums,” said Fernand.

“No, he’s right,” said Hogg. “Westfield Apples aren’t exactly unpopular.”

Fernand looked down at his list. “You’re in error. These were Blouthe’s Pearls.”

“Are you sure? Hold on. Let me make one,” said Brin.

Brin activated the Copy Light spell, except instead of projecting the copy with light, he activated that portion of the spell with his glass magic. First he summoned a glass ball of the approximate size and shape of an apple with [Summon Glass]. Then he activated the second part of the Copy Light spell with [Shape Glass]. That would give him a better result since it was the more powerful Skill. Over the span of half a minute, Brin summoned a perfect replica of a Blouthe’s Pearl Apple.

For the first time, Brin’s magic clashed with Fernand’s, and it gave him the space to feel the argument through the Wyrd. Fernand started with the upper hand since his magic was actually suited towards this kind of conflict, but Brin’s argument was solid. They were in the right here. This was Hogg’s property, and he deserved to get an honest accounting of what had been done with it.

Brin stepped over and placed the glass apple on Fernand’s desk. “Here, a gift.”

Fernand grimaced. “Yes, yes, that’s the one. As I was saying–”

“That’s not the one! What are you trying to pull?” Hogg said. He stood, knocking his chair to the ground. “You’ve broken your promise, Fernand. You’re wasting my time. I’m taking this to–”

“Wait!” Fernand commanded, and there was the weight of a powerful Skill behind it.

Hogg stood waiting, with his arms crossed.

Just then, Fernand’s [Steward] opened the door. “I heard a clatter. Is everything alright in here? Oh good heavens! Have you been standing there this whole time, young man?” He clapped. “Fetch a chair, for Eridu’s sake!”

A servant brought in a chair immediately, which meant he’d been standing behind the [Steward] with it. The servant set it next to Hogg’s chair, and Brin sat before he remembered that Hogg was still standing.

“Wait,” Fernand repeated. “This is my mistake, of course. But I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you the price as if they really had been Blouthe’s Pearls. You’ll concede that they were a much cheaper brand, yes?”

Hogg grunted.

Just in time, Brin’s thread that was still searching the grocer found a chart with the prices.

“Mard’s is selling them for six bits each,” said Brin. It was absolutely true, but he also knew it was unfair. Physical stores had to mark up the prices in order to pay the staff’s wages and other costs. The regular price for apples should be two for a bit, and even this expensive brand wouldn’t cost more than two bits each.

“Of course, six bits each,” said Fernand.

It was a startling reversal, and Brin tried to feel if there was some trap, but the balance of the Wyrd remained the same.

"Why would he try to change the variety to something more expensive?" Brin asked Hogg with the Silent Voice.

"If we hadn't caught him, he would've realized his 'mistake' right before signing and then claimed we were trying to con him. He would've used that as leverage to redo the entire conversation again from the beginning." Hogg sat back down beside Brin.

Again, Brin thought they were nearly done, and again he was disappointed. Now they had a number for what Hogg was owed, all together more than three thousand gold, but Fernand didn’t have that much cash on hand so Hogg needed to select that amount of value out of his existing inventory.

For the next half hour, they bickered and bartered over every inch of the products that Hogg would take ownership of. Most of what Hogg bought was weapons and armor, no doubt due to some of the information Lumina had shared in her letters. Of course, Fernand immediately smelled a scheme, so instead of just giving Hogg the equipment he was owed, made sure to weasel his way into making it a partnership.

The negotiations were no less intense than before, but much of the tension had left the room. The [Steward] ended up bringing in tea and hard, flavorless cookies that maybe vegans or elderly Europeans might’ve liked, and Fernand no longer treated Brin like a skunk that had snuck inside. In fact, he had a sixth sense for picking up on when Brin didn’t understand something and always paused the negotiations to get him up to speed.

When all was said and done, Fernand and Hogg shook hands, signed a contract, and then Fernand brought out a bottle of whiskey. He and Hogg had a glass while discussing milder topics. The weather, and Fernand’s children, of which he apparently had six.

When the glasses were empty, Fernand inspected his with a distant expression, and asked, “Who do you have for shipping?”

“Wogan,” Hogg replied.

Fernand paled. He set down the glass, groaned, and put his head down on his desk. “That’s it. We’re screwed.”

“What? No, we’re not! Wogan is a friend!” Brin objected. Uncle of a friend, really, but close enough.

Fernand peered up from behind his bushy eyebrows. “You don’t get it. Nobody gets the advantage of a Prinnashian [Merchant]. They grew up in hell and flourished by being more cruel than all the demons. They’re not human. They’re brutal!”

Hogg sniffed. “I’ll admit I’m a bit nervous.”

“That’s ridiculous. You haven’t met them. I have, and I’m telling you they are cupcakes,” said Brin.

Fernand ignored him. He leaned back into his chair and sighed. “You know, it wasn’t for your sake that I… circumvented the crown’s order to liquidate your assets. It would’ve ruined me to sell all our stock at once. But now, hearing this? I wish I had just given everything I had to the bank rather than see it in the hands of those… those monsters!”

Brin looked back and forth between the two men in disbelief. “Come on. It can’t be that bad, can it?”

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