Chapter 20 (part 2/2) - Threat

  After Phil left, Vincent could finally work in peace at his new workstation. He had everything he needed and every tool at his disposal, yet he could not shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

  I’m sure they have their eyes on me. I can feel it on my back.

  Spying on him was easy in the forge. Many of the tables faced one another, others were oriented directly toward him. The forge’s multiple open floors and levels allowed observation from virtually any angle, and any tool or lens used to watch him could pass as just another piece of equipment without raising suspicion.

  I should assume they already know what I want to do here. Phil wasn’t exactly discreet, and if they see me working on a glove with this book beside me, it won’t take long for them to connect the dots.

  Much to his dismay, his trump card was already revealed. They would know he intended to make a magical gauntlet, but not exactly what kind. Vincent opened the small booklet and flipped through it once more. In many cases, these gloves were used to replace lost connections between meridians atrophied by accidents or battle wounds. To avoid overloading the conduits, metals could be used outside the body to guide energy to different points.

  Many of these experiments required grafting silver wires into the skin, but he had no intention of doing anything so morbid. He was simply interested in the metal’s absorptive properties. The ability to use more powerful tools to manufacture his inventions… and perhaps the possibility of puncturing an artery without atrophying his arm.

  If I can make the energy flow externally instead of through my body, maybe I could harness the tower’s energy to defend myself… that would put me on their level.

  But that was merely a theory. First and foremost, he needed to see whether he was even capable of manufacturing and making the magical gauntlet work.

  He started with the glove itself, the main piece. He cut away two fingers, the pinky and the ring finger, leaving the other three mostly intact, exposing only the digits. He needed direct contact.

  He did not plan to finish it today, and he still was not entirely sure how much money or how many gems he would have available to supplement it. So, using a discarded piece of brass, Vincent heated it until it became a workable nugget and shaped it into a double ring, with two empty slots to place absorption gems, replaceable once he had more funds.

  In his palm, he created a mount for a small, interchangeable jade disc. The plan was to have multiple magical circles available there, requiring only the injection of intent into the spell and skipping a large part of the processing… or at least, that was the theory.

  In practice, engraving a spell into a circle that small was nearly impossible, reserved only for simple effects, like a small flamethrower, an electric discharge, or a flash of light.

  For now I’m limited to engraving the runes by hand… but if I used a lens to burn the inscription into the circle, I could miniaturize it even further… using lithography for circle inscription…

  Vincent’s mind was already racing. Whether it was a magnifying lens or something more advanced, a lithographic machine was beyond his reach. He would have to settle for simpler, utilitarian spells.

  This forging circle is incredibly useful… if I could have it in my hand, I wouldn’t need to come here to work. I could melt specific parts of the metal and shape the pieces… even fire ceramic parts in my own hand.

  Working made him happy. For a moment, he forgot where he was, what had happened to him, and what he was trying to avoid. He just wanted to work on his inventions, to explore this magical world as a scientist… but the tower had other plans for him.

  A hand, thick and heavy, with hairy knuckles, landed on his shoulder.

  By reflex, Vincent jumped from his seat and turned to face it, but he had to look twice and rub his eyes to understand whether what he was seeing was real or just a hallucination.

  A fat young man with black, stiff hair slicked back, pinkish skin, and a pig-like nose stood in front of him. His thick, pointed ears jutted out from his round head, and a smug smile of oval teeth examined him through a pair of almost completely black eyes.

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  Standing before him was a pig. A very well-dressed one, to be honest.

  He was not dressed like a mere resurrected nor like a magister either. It was a customized robe, with gold embroidery and silver fittings, pearl cufflinks at the wrists, and accents of red silk.

  “Whoa, easy. I just came to talk. There’s no need for hostility.”

  The pig replied to Vincent’s nervous reaction. Vincent already had his hand inside his satchel, gripping his pistol, ready to blow his face off.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Edgar… I believe we have things to discuss.”

  Vincent kept blinking excessively, waiting for the illusion to fade, but it did not. Usually he could force his perception and see human faces in strange creatures… but this time, the pig’s face remained.

  I know there are different races and ethnicities in this tower. I’ve seen blue people, tall and short ones, strange features from other worlds… but never one that looks so much like a hog.

  “Please, sit down. Keep working. I just want to chat, I won’t take much of your time.”

  Edgar, the pig, did not present himself as an enemy at first… although he clearly was one. It was obvious he was behind the surveillance. Vincent didn't need hallucinations to realize that.

  “I’m not sitting down. Say what you have to say and leave.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk… why so much hostility? I’m the one who should be angry. You’re the one who started messing with my business. You’re the aggressor here.”

  “These are the rules of capitalism. If your business can’t adapt and offer something superior, then it should die and make room for one that can.”

  “Oh, an anarcho-capitalist, I see. I was a merchant in my previous life too, so we speak the same language.”

  The pig made a move as if to pull something from his satchel, but Vincent was far too alert to allow it. Edgar noticed immediately and proceeded in a much more careful manner. He set the bag down on the table and took out an incense burner.

  “What you see here is not just my business, but also the opportunity for many husks to leave this tower. Your vaporizer has pulled participants out of the collective circles, making them unviable and leaving many burners unused.”

  Edgar took something else from his satchel, a small pouch filled with herbs.

  “You see, Vincent. You’re not just affecting me, you’re also affecting many of your peers who were pushed out because of you. With your vaporizer, only individuals with more money can enjoy the benefits, leaving many others behind.”

  “Even if that kind of emotional manipulation worked on me, which it doesn’t, your logic is flawed. Your system only keeps the husks down, equal, mediocre, and under your control. Mine, on the other hand, rescues those who actually have the potential to grow. Those who managed to generate enough money to buy my product. It gives them a real chance to advance in this tower. Is it cruel? Yes. But it’s a system that works.”

  The pig smiled.

  “I knew you were a businessman. No one without an entrepreneurial spirit, no matter how intelligent, could have created an artifact so surgically perfect at screwing me over.”

  Then he slammed his hand hard against the table. At that outburst of anger, multiple resurrected figures, both from the workshop itself and from the upper levels, became visible. They had been watching far more closely than Vincent had imagined… and they were armed.

  “I’ll make it simpler for you, because I’m the more reasonable one here. My associate, Takkio, the one in charge of bringing me herbs and incense from his adventures, wanted to break your legs and be done with it. I, on the other hand, am much more prudent, which is why I came to negotiate.”

  Edgar rested his hand on the incense burner and the herbs, pushing them across the table toward Vincent, offering them deliberately.

  “I understand it’s unreasonable to ask you to abandon your business just like that. So here’s my proposal: work for me. You can handle subleasing this burner to the dormitory you were in before becoming a resurrected. You’ll make good money, it’s simple work, and we both win.”

  His tone hardened.

  “I’ll even let you keep selling your product… in fact, I insist that you do.”

  “Oh?”

  “You just have to modify it a bit, tweak its efficiency. Making it only about ten percent more efficient than a conventional pipe sounds fine to me.”

  His proposal, or rather his threat, was simple enough: servitude in exchange for a few coins, and sabotaging his own product. If Vincent agreed, he could probably sell a few units riding the initial wave of popularity, a short-term gain at the cost of his reputation and pride. Eventually the truth would come out and the product would die on its own, something that would happen anyway in a few weeks, when he would be forced to hand the plans over to the tower… but still.

  “No.”

  “You refuse?”

  “I will not be your vassal. I will not kneel.”

  “So that’s how it’s going to be?” The pig stood up, leaving the burner and the herbs in front of Vincent. “Takkio will be back in a few days. He asked me to settle this matter, and if words don’t work on you, I’m afraid I’ll have to become more persuasive.”

  And with that, Edgar left without another word.

  The confrontation had drawn the attention of several resurrected, who lingered nearby, hoping a fight would break out. But faced with such an anticlimactic resolution, they simply went back to their work.

  One… two… three resurrects.

  Paying close attention, Vincent counted those who truly withdrew among the onlookers. Edgar had been accompanied by three other resurrected, and Vincent only had one weapon.

  “Shit.”

  He gathered his things along with the burner and fled the forge. One would think he would be safer in a crowded, public place, but there, among hammers, sparks, and furnaces, it would be very easy to fake an accident and injure him. He had to prepare for the attack.

  If he was going to face them, it would be on his terms…