Mortimer, page 36
part #6 of Everybody Loves Large Chests Series
On the upside, what it managed to get had plenty of uses as leverage should the secretive organization ever come after the Sandman or Keira. It could threaten to release incriminating records to the general public, use the research data as bargaining chips, or maybe even sabotage their other facilities and endeavors to send a warning. Alternatively, it could use this relatively small haul of information to further its own goals of amassing power and shinies. A folder marked ‘Project Lighthouse’ was of particular interest. Boxxy would need more time to thoroughly comb through the reports and documents within, but what little it gleaned from a quick skim proved quite promising indeed.
Especially the part detailing the Foundation’s interactions with one Reginald Namhel and his underground network of doppelgangers.
Epilogue
*Knock knock knock*
There was a rapping on Reginald’s door, followed by his secretary poking her head inside the room.
“Excuse me, Mr. Namhel, but Mrs. Mainus is requesting another unscheduled meeting. I know you have company, but-”
“That’s quite alright, my dear,” said the old banker. “I was actually expecting her, and Mr. Jensen here was just leaving.”
The other person in the room, a youthful gentleman with black hair, black eyes, and a thoroughly forgettable face, nodded affirmatively. This was one of Reginald’s shapeshifting associates, and the two of them had been discussing the hostile takeover of a certain human-run smuggling ring for the last twenty minutes. While far from over, the discussion would have to be shelved for the moment. Keeping Reggie’s new business partner happy – or at the least in a relatively un-murderous mood – took precedence. ‘Jensen’ didn’t say anything as he got off his seat and walked out of the room, acknowledging Mrs. Mainus with a polite nod on his way out. The oblivious secretary closed the door once the new guest had stepped through, allowing the office’s anti-eavesdropping enchantments to kick in.
Now alone with the ‘ganger capo, Xera wasted no time shifting into her succubus form.
“Hello, Reggie,” she casually took a seat.
“Miss Snack,” he greeted her. “I trust your presence here means your master is alive and well?”
“Indeed. We hit a small snag when doing you that favor, so we had to go off the grid for a while.”
“Mhm. I assumed as much when I heard the Hero of Chaos had vanished from the public eye a week ago.”
The Republic government had gone to great lengths to try and keep Keira’s disappearance a secret. She was the face of victory against the Empire, so they couldn’t openly admit she had been kidnapped right in the middle of Azurvale. The politicians breathed a collective sigh of relief when the Slyth household withdrew the missing person report the day before, citing it was just a huge misunderstanding. The authorities had no qualms about sweeping the whole thing under the rug, seeing as the Hero of Chaos already had a reputation for attracting trouble. Either that or she had to leave on some urgent mission on behalf of her patron deity, as the Gods’ chosen were oft to do. Whatever the case, those in the know agreed there was no need to disclose this matter to the general public.
Despite their best attempts, the Republic government was unable to keep their poster girl’s absence a secret. There was supposed to be a huge award ceremony in Keira’s honor a few days after her disappearance. The nation’s elected leader was supposed to officially and personally recognize the young adventurer’s key contributions to the war effort with shiny medals and a rousing speech. When the guest of honor failed to show, the government had to cancel the event at the last minute. This not only undermined the administration’s credibility, but also got the rumor mill churning. The fact that the day she was last seen in public coincided with a certain magical explosion in the slums certainly hadn’t painted young Keira’s absence in a positive light.
“Also, if that’s your idea of a ‘small snag’ then I hesitate to ask what you’d consider a major cock-up,” Reginald complained. “I understand Mr. Alexis was a powerful individual with equally powerful backers, but burning down three city blocks was a bit overkill, wouldn’t you say?”
“It was not Master’s intention to cause so much damage. It just sort of happened. Also, Master would like to remind you that an incident of this scale is a relatively minor one by its standards.”
“Uh-huh. And what about this strange earthquake the day before yesterday, hmm? Was that another ‘minor accident’ of yours?”
“Not at all.”
“Are you sure you had nothing to do with that?” the shifty banker pressed.
“Oh, it was absolutely our doing, but it was entirely intentional and by no means an accident.”
The ‘ganger capo let out a groaning sigh as he rubbed his eyes in frustration.
“Please tell me there was a big payoff for raising all this ruckus.”
“There was indeed. It marked the end of both your doppelganger hunter and the organization that supported him,” Xera boasted.
“Really, now?” Reginald perked up. “And you did this without revealing our presence in Azurvale?”
“Absolutely. They may have a few stragglers that escaped the destruction, but Master wishes to give you its personal guarantee that they have no idea what hit them.”
“How can you be so sure? No, before any of that, I need details. Who was it that backed Jones Alexis?”
“That’s the funny thing. You already know. You just don’t know that you know.”
“I… beg your pardon?” the old shapeshifter was thoroughly confused.
“Do you remember anything involving a certain Foundation?” the demon cryptically asked.
“Which Foundation? Do you mean Saint Helena’s Foundation for the Magically Maimed?”
“Hmm. Alright, let me put it in a different way.”
Xera leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs, a cold smile on her lips.
“Would you kindly tell me what you know about the Foundation, old boy?”
“The Free Future Foundation was created nearly twenty years ago on the order of Exarch Joanne Lathi. It exists to further the works of the Great Liberator and bring prosperity to elvenkind at any reasonable cost.”
It was a flawless, smooth answer, delivered in the same tone of voice one might use to describe how they liked their tea.
“Great Liberator, eh? And who would that be?” asked Xera.
“Again, no idea what you’re talking about,” Reginald started to get annoyed. “Do these pointless questions serve a purpose here?”
“Would you kindly tell me who the Foundation’s Great Liberator is, old boy?”
“The Great Liberator’s identity is that of the late Ivran Tol-Saroth.”
“And would you kindly share why the Foundation reveres their Great Liberator, old boy?”
“He laid the groundwork for the dissolution of the corrupt and tyrannical Elven Dominion, allowing the seed of democracy known as the Ishigar Republic to sprout from its ashes.”
Xera continued interrogating Reginald, also known as Project Lighthouse, for the better part of half an hour. He shared everything his addled mind knew about the clandestine government-funded organization, and in the process divulged a number of secrets regarding his network of shapeshifters. He did so willingly and eagerly, because the Foundation had already done to him what they had attempted with Boxxy. The ‘ganger capo had been conditioned to carry out any orders he received, so long as they were framed by the dual trigger phrases ‘would you kindly’ and ‘old boy.’ These commands would embed themselves in his subconscious and he would act on them as if they were his own will, completely unaware of their foreign origins.
That was why he had sent Boxxy to snoop on Jones Alexis in the first place. He had received standing orders to send any exceptional monsters he came across to the Foundation’s living weapon, who would subdue them and bring them in as test subjects. He was also supposed to warn Zilla when he was about to get a new ‘delivery,’ but Reginald was physically unable to do so since Boxxy’s decision to confront its target directly had been rather spontaneous. That aside, the brainwashed banker had surely been drilled for all his information on the malicious Hero. As far as the mimic-minded monster knew, this knowledge had vanished into the void along with the mutated wardrobe’s life.
Boxxy had to admit, the Foundation made a brilliant move bringing in Reggie under their control. It gave the shadowy organization their own private spy network, which they used to attack and take over various crime syndicates. Combat wasn’t usually a doppelganger’s forte, but they were still monsters that boasted greater strength and speed than any enlightened in addition to their innate psychic gifts. Furthermore, the species’ natural talents of infiltration and deception made it so many of these hostile takeovers ended without a single drop of blood being shed or anyone realizing their leaders had been silently replaced. The proceeds from all this unlawful activity would then either be used as additional Foundation resources or get funneled into the Republic’s coffers through the bank’s generous donations and support of civic projects.
In short, someone high up the chain of command had realized it was much easier to control organized crime than it was to stop it, so Reginald’s little empire was allowed to prosper.
“Would you kindly tell me what you know about Soulstones, old boy?”
Xera began wrapping up Reggie’s interrogation by asking the last and arguably most important thing Boxxy wanted to know.
“I don’t know anything about Soulstones.”
“Of course not,” she sighed. “Then would you kindly use your spies to find out everything you can about Soulstones, old boy?”
“Yes. I will do that,” he affirmed in a flat monotone.
“Thank you, Reggie, you’ve been very helpful,” said Xera with a twisted smile.
“Uhm, you’re welcome?” answered the confused shapeshifter. “What about the matter of Jones Alexis?”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. In fact, would you kindly forget everything you know about Jones Alexis, Boxxy T. Morningwood, Keira Morgana, and all of their close associates, old boy?”
“Yes. I will do that.”
Reginald snapped out of his trance moments later and found himself staring at an unfamiliar demon in the middle of his office.
“What? Who are you?! How did you get in here!?”
Xera stood from her seat and walked over to the door while Reginald rapidly grew more aggressive.
“Would you kindly forget you ever saw me, old boy?”
“Yes. I will do that.”
With those final words, she transformed into Mrs. Mainus and left his office before he had a chance to snap at her again. The demoness quickly and quietly made her way out of the building and onto the street.
“Are you sure this is sufficient, Master?” she telepathically asked while blending into the crowd.
“It’ll be fine,” it responded. “At least this way he won’t be able to tell anyone who comes snooping about my true identity.”
“Shouldn’t we break him free of the Foundation’s control?”
“Why would we? He’s much easier to handle like this.”
“I suppose, but… doesn’t his condition seem a bit too pathetic?”
“What do you mean?”
“That sorry creature in there is what you would’ve become eventually if we didn’t arrive when we did.”
“No, it wouldn’t. I’d have killed myself before that happened.”
“You… would really do that?”
“My mind is my own. I’d much rather see it destroyed than let someone else take it from me.”
“I see.”
In other words, Boxxy considered its freedom and sense of self shiny enough to be worth dying for. No wonder why its inner ego was like an unbreachable fortress. It was also just as massive a hypocrite as ever, hence why it had no qualms controlling others.
“If you’re all done there, then go deliver Keira’s personal belongings to the mansion.”
“I hear and obey, Master.”
The ‘belongings’ in question consisted of the mithril rapier, casual clothes, jewelry, and other things the catgirl would’ve had on her when she was captured. The idea was that Snack would present them to the Slyth family as a gesture of good faith from the Sandman when she went to pick up his fee for his part in the redhead’s rescue. The cloaked mercenary would have come across them when he was cleaning up the base and decided to do the catgirl a favor by bringing them out. This charade was necessary to give Keira her stuff back in a more plausible manner than having it mysteriously reappear in her possession even though she was found butt-naked in a hallway.
Honestly, Boxxy didn’t need or want the vast majority of those items, but four of them were considered of vital importance. The jeweled mithril rapier was an obvious one, as getting to carry that superbly shiny article around as Keira was one of the perks of its Facade. It was also becoming something of a signature weapon since she carried it around a lot, so its whereabouts had to be accounted for. The other three crucial items were the trio of simple-looking iron rings the catgirl always wore on her right hand. These supposedly sentimental items were actually pivotal to Boxxy’s disguise, as they brought its overall weight down to about third of what it normally was. If not for those, Keira would be far too heavy for a beastkin her size. Or any size, for that matter. So far, the shapeshifter had ‘worn’ them inside its body to maintain its cover, but this was hardly ideal. Having foreign objects inside itself wasn’t just uncomfortable, but also got in the way of Boxxy’s shapeshifting. Thus, it was rather vital that Snack ‘delivered’ them, so it could wear them on Keira’s fingers rather than her ribs.
“How goes it on your end, Master?” asked Xera as she was making her way back to the mansion. “Have you managed to convince that vapid cunt to stop being so gods-damned clingy?”
“No. Looks like I’ll have to wait this one out.”
“I could always take her place…” she said in an oddly hopeful tone.
“Maybe, but you can’t take the place of her parents, Hilda, and Lichter all at once.”
“Uh… What?”
“It’s not just Rowana – the whole lot of them won’t leave me alone.”
“Why not? Do they suspect something?”
“No. It seems I laid the ‘damsel-in-distress’ act on too thick. Now they’re constantly hovering over me and refusing to let me out of their sight.”
After Keira’s rescue, it had been unanimously decided the catgirl would spend an indeterminate amount of time on the premises of the Slyth family estate. Her ‘inner circle’ wanted to keep her somewhere they could monitor her condition and protect her from any sort of retaliation from that underground organization’s remnants. They were all very valid concerns to people who didn’t know any better, so Boxxy had no choice but to begrudgingly accept if it wanted to keep its Facade strong.
And it couldn’t just say ‘yes’ and then do whatever it wanted anyway since it was impossible to slip away from the mansion without Keira’s absence being found out pretty rapidly. Having Snack take its place also wasn’t feasible, as she couldn’t recreate the Soulstone lodged in Keira’s back with her shapeshifting. She could do it with her new Conjure Mirage Skill, but that would come with its own share of risks. The biggest problem was how Rowana kept acting so ‘gods-damned clingy,’ as Xera succinctly put it. The djinn’s illusions failed to hold up to any sort of physical inspection, and the elf was doing a whole lot of that whenever she and Keira were in the same room. Which was pretty much the entire time.
The woman was proving to be something of an obstacle to Boxxy’s plans, but it couldn’t get rid of her just yet. Not while it still had Doppelganger Levels to attain. Even if it was just one person, the sheer degree with which she loved, believed in, and trusted Keira had been a steady source of Doppelganger XP. Sure, the monster had gotten quite a few Levels from Keira’s popularity among the masses, but that would eventually diminish. At this point, getting rid of Rowana would be like quitting one’s steady job because they won a small fortune from a lottery. It seemed attractive in the short term, but Boxxy had to consider the long game here. After all, getting those next 15 Doppelganger Levels was going to take a substantial amount time and effort.
The same couldn’t be said for the next 15 Warlock Levels. Or, rather, the next 14, as it and its familiars had caused enough death and destruction during their recent escape to boost it to Level 61 of the Job, granting the creature access to another Warlock Skill. Unlike before, Boxxy already knew what abilities would be available to it and had made its choice well in advance. The ability to plan its Skill progression was refreshingly reassuring and only possible because of Keira’s unrestricted access to the Central Consortium’s library. Though, to be fair, it would have probably chosen this particular Skill even if it was still doing this whole Warlock thing blind.
[Graviton Manipulation]
Allows the Warlock to tap into and control the flow of gravity, bending the natural force to his will through sheer mystic might.
Requirements: Level 60 Warlock Job, Level 10 Ruin Mastery
Type: Passive
Range: Self
[Effects]
Grants knowledge of a new gravity-altering Ruin Spell at Level 1, 4, 7 and 10 of this Skill.
Increases the effectiveness of all gravity-altering Spells by 3% per Level of this Skill.
Increases resistance to all gravity-altering Spells by 2% per Level of this Skill.
The amount of new ‘freebie’ Spells that Caster Jobs had access to past Level 50 was effectively zero. This included, but was not limited to, Pyromancer, Shaman, Wizard, and Warlock. If Boxxy hoped to keep expanding its mystic arsenal, it had one of two options. The first was learning Spells through training, practice, and research, which required a significant investment of both time and effort. Alternatively, it could rely on so-called ‘Library Skills’ like Graviton Manipulation. Boxxy had already done its homework regarding this bundle of gravity magic, so it knew it was in for some very tasty Spells indeed.
