Chương 29: 28-Human Resources

Bilto sat down at the inn, glumly sipping from his tankard of ale while he reviewed his options. He had used alchemy to change his appearance once again—he now looked like a rugged mercenary in his forties. It was his third shift of the day: he had already tried an obese matron and even an eight-year-old kid. The last one had gone very badly, as people kept asking him where his parents were and making strange faces when Bilto asked how much they were willing to pay for that information. This was a disaster.

He had lost his business, all his alchemical stock, and his reputation. Well, he had not exactly lost the last one, but he had made it very difficult to attain it someday. He was being pursued. Someone wanted to have an unfriendly talk with him. Who could wish him ill? Bilto tried to make a list. The midget rogue was not in it, as he had hated him for around three hours. That was not long enough to hire thugs. Who else? Well, there was the bald guy who had ended up with luxurious hair everywhere but on his scalp… …

the ignored wife with the aphrodisiac… that was unfair. She had only specified that she wanted to increase her husband's sex drive, not its nature. And he was supposed to feel responsible for his sudden interest in humping street lights? Bilto sighed. The list was endless. What hurt him most was that they became truly inflamed only when he asked them to pay for the antidotes. You do not go to a restaurant and expect a free meal just because you paid for the one you had yesterday. He needed a change of scenery.

He had avoided Babylon on purpose, for fear of being recognized as the shady guy with whiskers from the Secret Mountain Sect, but he was running out of options. Kenosha was the third town he had to run from, after the Milwaukee fiasco and that quaint village in the mountain that was no longer quaint. Well, at least the mountain still remained. They were all Federation towns. Babylon was starting to sound increasingly appealing. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the bards' words.

"And now, a message from our sponsors," he said. Bilto sighed as he remembered how he had been one of those sponsors until recently. Bloody good decision, too—he got 80, 000 musical impressions with a Hum-Through Rate of 0. 82%. He still had some of that potion he had sold to the mini-rogue. He wondered if the bard would accept it as payment. The bard sang a beautiful song explaining that Colonel Hawkings was seeking mercenaries to serve as bodyguards on a diplomatic mission to Babylon.

The song specified that, due to the urgency of the matter, they were paying three times the normal wages. The chorus gave the direction where applicants had to go, five minutes away from Bilto's current location. Bilto looked at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the far wall. He certainly looked the part. He could get triple wages for going to the place he actually wanted to go. And the shapeshifting potion still had three hours' worth left of duration. Waste not, want not.

"Please tell me a bit about yourself, Mr. Donlan," the attractive blonde in the three-piece suit told him. She had introduced herself as Barbara, head of the human resources department. He had been surprised to learn he had to go through an interview to get the job.

"I thought you were desperate," he told Barbara.

"We are desperate, not stupid," she answered.

"As you know, there was an important military clash yesterday in the free town of Stanton. It was a three-sided fight between our lads, the Circle, and the Answer. We won, inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy. We are now on the verge of war with Babylon."

"Colonel Hawkings is heading a diplomatic delegation to Babylon to try to steer the situation, but Dignity… you know Dignity, the crazy witch that wants to sell their own artifact back to the Coven, has declared Federation troops as hostile combatants. Because of that, the Colonel needs to rely on local talent to protect him during the trip." Bilto nodded. He also knew most of it was bullshit. His mental stats were high enough to detect a carefully curated lie.

He guessed that things had not gone so well for the Feddies as they said. No matter. He had to play the script. Hating Dignity, it was.

"That selfish bitch!" he interrupted Barbara.

"How I hate…" Barbara did not let him finish; "Oh, dear. It is a diplomatic mission, you know. I am not sure you would fit in." Her left eyebrow had risen slightly as she said this.

"... the unfortunate childhood circumstances that have driven this poor woman to this state. They are all victims, in the end. That's what I always say," finished Bilto, quickly recovering.

"Let's get on with the interview, Mr. Donlan, truth to say, we are in a bit of a hurry," she said, smiling at him warmly. The eyebrow had gone down. The eyebrow it is, then, Bilto thought, his business reflexes in overdrive. As long as he kept that eyebrow in its place, he would pass with flying colors. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"Well, what can I tell you about myself?" Bilto thought aloud. They wanted diplomatic mercenaries. Could be worse.

"I believe in soft power…" — eyebrow— "... to crush my enemies." Yep, that seemed to work.

"I want to use dialogue to drown the world in blood."

"Can you walk me through your resumé?" Barbara went on. These functionaries loved a tough childhood story. Meritocracy and all that.

"I was the youngest son of a struggling family…" —eyebrow—damn, not again, "... we had to give our all to dominate over the rest of the aristocrats, but we overcame all difficulties, conquering our enemies using dialogue and subtle innuendo."

"Tell me about a mistake you made, and how you solved it." Barbara was staring at him intently; this was a crucial one. Consistency was key. These HR bastards looked for contradictions. He had to build his answers on previous ones.

"Another mercenary under my command came to me with a personal problem. I know we are not supposed to deal with those, but I decided to break the rules…" —eyebrow— "... of chess, and hit him on the head with the marble chessboard I was using to train my mind so that I could get rid of all my aristocratic rivals using cunning and deception."

"How would you extract the magical essence of a Moon Firefly without damaging its alchemical properties?" Barbara asked.

"Oh, my god, Barbara, I am not an alchemist, I am a mercenary…" —eyebrow—"... with an aristocratic aunt who knew alchemy and used it constantly in the great game of social manipulation. She once explained to me that you must boil it at a constant temperature for exactly twenty-one minutes," he answered.

"Are you looking at my left eyebrow, Mr. Donlan?" Barbara inquired.

"No, of course not," —eyebrow—"I mean, yes, I am."

"I am sorry about it. I had gotten rid of this tic ages ago, but it came back after Activation Day," Barbara explained.

"Ok, this part of the interview is over. I will say goodbye to you and let my colleague proceed with the rest," Barbara stood up, smiling and prepared to leave the room.

"How did I do?" Bilto asked her nervously.

"Oh, you passed with flying colors, Mr. Bil—Mr. Donlan," she smiled at him as she left the room. Colonel Hawking came in, along with the three thugs who had come for him at his shop.

"Last question," Hawking told him jovially.

"If you pass this one, the job is yours."

"Are you a lying sack of conniving shit called Bilto?" Bilto thought for a moment.

"How much shit and how conniving does it need to be?" Bilto watched as the three thugs clasped heavy iron manacles on his wrists.

"Do you have anything to ask, before we take you where you belong?" the Colonel coldly asked him.

"Yes," answered Bilto, showing Hawking the manacles.

"Can I keep them?" Colonel Hawkings watched as his men took the now-manacled Bilto away.

"Excellent job, as always, Barbara," he congratulated his agent.

"How did you know he would fall for this?"

"It is not as if he had many other options, Colonel. The Federation is scorched earth for him; he only had the wilds, the Answer territory, and Babylon. It was no choice at all," Barbara answered.

"And knowing he would fall for the interview ruse?" the Colonel went on.

"That is what you had me take the Profiler class for," Barbara answered. She smiled sadly— "I am probably the only person on Earth who has the same job before and after the Apocalypse."

"Well, I am glad you are here with us now," the Colonel answered, "even if you still miss the FBI. I am counting on you, Barbara. You never disappoint."

"One word of caution, before you leave, Colonel," Barbara told him.

"Never underestimate that man. Never."

"Why?" Hawking asked, mystified, watching Bilto as he tried to sell something to one of the soldiers dragging his manacled form behind him.

"Because he is a genius. My class grants me sensitivity to cognitive potential," Barbara explained.

"His is off the charts."

"Well, he does a very good job hiding that fact," Hawkings countered.

"He is a relatively new Essential from a dungeon with no Repository tag. His personality is still evolving," Barbara explained.

"I have seen it before. Sometimes, an Essential's identity is built around one or two dominant features, such as greed, in Bilto's case. This feature erases all others. He is almost like a caricature of a greedy man— his greed blinds him." Barbara turned around just before leaving, "As his identity evolves, his greed will be countered by other aspects of his personality. He will become a full person, one no longer bound by a single aspect of his mind.

You will find yourself with a very angry, highly effective genius. I hope you are up to the task of containing him."

"What do you need him for, anyway, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Your security clearance is rank 3—I can tell you now, but it's not going to become public knowledge until tomorrow," Hawkings said calmly.

"We are going to use him to begin a war. He is a living dungeon seed. I am taking him to Milwaukee, and we will collapse the tamed dungeon around him. He will become the core of a new dungeon, one that will eventually grant alchemy to all the Federation cities."

"Babylon will not take that calmly," Barbara answered.

"I know. Our military might is based on the concept of mass-produced magical items," Hawkings explained.

"With Alchemy, it is going to become immensely powerful. The Circle can't let us develop that technology. They will be forced to attack to take it back from us, and we will be waiting for them."

"Babylon is used to fighting defensive battles," the Colonel finished.

"They have never gone on the offensive. It is simply a war they can't win." Hawking groaned as he mentally prepared for what he had to do next. He had only told Barbara part of the plan. Babylon's greatest strength did not lie in its common grunts but in its elites. Six of them had butchered four of his squads, plus a couple of Answer Zealots in Stanton. The propaganda division had worked all night trying to create an alternative narrative to counter the impact. Lies.

They could give them a technical name, but they were still lies. Babylonians would not try a frontal attack; they were simply not ready for that. They would try commando tactics, sending their best to infiltrate Milwaukee and rescue or neutralize Bilto. He had a very good idea of who they were going to send. He was ready for them. They had done a good job of slaughtering common grunts with generalist classes.

They were going to be very unpleasantly surprised when they met the upgraded Hunters that had been designed by the Min-Maxers. And, unlike the Coven, they had Hunters for everyone. While the Losers got their hands dirty in Milwaukee, specialists designed to take out Babylon's main leaders were already taking positions. He had lied to Barbara. There was not going to be a war—it would be over before it could start.