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The Gamer Chapter 1776 – Stars and Stripes
🕑 Added 2024-11-04 18:27:43 +0000 UTC
“Uhhhhhh… hmm….” John scratched the back of his head and scanned the choices a couple of times. The middle one was out, because he liked living, and that put him between two very interesting places. “How good would you say Enki was as an administrator?”
The two Metracanas had been in the middle of making out with each other when that question made them freeze. Lips parting, they jumped to their feet and dashed behind John’s backrest. That they could have just read through his eyes either slipped their mind or they needed to verify with their own.
“What the fuck?” Metra muttered.
“Bullshit!” Ehtra agreed aggressively.
John gave the window a tap so the others could catch up on what had the duo so startled. It was the final Perk of a Class, and Starforger at that, so he had gathered up his harem in the usual fashion. Lydia and Lu Zhi were not there, courtesy of their individual responsibility. Everyone else was present and laughed, grunted or shook their heads at the ridiculousness of the Perk.
Only Nahua stared at it for a long while. “Is it… common that you can revive dead gods?” she asked.
John shook his head. “First and probably last time this will happen. I have to assume it only works because Enki gave me this Class by transferring the last of his power to me before he died.”
“I almost want to tell you to ignore all of these choices,” Metra joked. “I don’t need that smug scientist back in my life.”
“Be respectful, he made us,” Ehtra shot back.
“The only person that made us that I respect is Sargon.”
“…For good reasons,” the First of Hatred surrendered, then crossed her arms under her huge breasts. “Whatever the case is, are you certain you want to go for the Curator Revival?”
John read through the options a third time. It wasn’t that Custodian Revival was bad. On the contrary, having Enki as a guardian of the Guild Hall, with all of its mana to back him up, was a fantastic deterrent for any attacker. The thing was that it was just another deterrent, of which John had plenty. Anyone who attacked the place where the harem lived had already thrown caution to the wind. Even assuming the person wasn’t aware of just how powerful the entirety of John’s women had gotten, they would have to resolve to challenge Eliana and Nathalia at a minimum. Enki would not tip that scale towards reason.
There was also another factor to consider. Courtesy of the Monument to the Celestial Devourer, Stirwin could use the Guild Hall mana to Unleash if he was within its borders. Having that compete with Enki using it up to cast spells just wasn’t going to be that useful.
“We’re already the most powerful, concentrated fighting force in the world, maybe short of Krieg’s alliance of neutral gods,” John voiced his analysis. “Enki as a Curator of the Guild Hall could further help alleviate our other issues. I wouldn’t complain about another highly competent bureaucrat.”
That had the agreement of everyone around. Some may have thought that another weapon was still better to have, but none would complain about John having a few more hours in his day courtesy of someone who he could delegate power to.
Thus, the button was pressed.
For a moment there was silence.
Then, the low buzzing of energy filled the air. It was electric, yet not electric at all. No hairs stood on their end and there was no smell of ozone. The arcane manifestation in the room was all around more subtle. Its first truly notable effect was a mild silver filter on the room. Said silver swiftly consolidated into a singular point. It was a sphere, a silver star, which then shifted and turned, ultimately taking the form of a hovering dragon head.
Made from the Gamer’s mana, the slender, reptilian face was not that far deviated from the god John had once met. Enki had been a small dragon, ‘only’ about the size of a truck and quite an aesthetically pleasing one at that. If there was an androgynous dragon, it would have been him, with little in terms of hard edges to his face or the gentle curve of his white horns.
If anything, Enki looked better now than before, what with the right half of his head not being black rot kept together by Astrotium plates.
“Welcome back to the land of the living?” John greeted the entity before him.
“You really think it can be called that?” Enki’s tone made John consider whether he should have listened to Metra. It dripped with arrogance, the annoying kind, and was immediately followed by a sigh. “I suppose I can forgive the error. To a plebian, a perfect reconstruction of the mind must be similar to revival.” The dragon clicked his tongue. “Still, you performed below my expectations.”
John raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“A Latebloomer rivalling Romulus and his powers can only recreate me. Truly, you disappoint.”
“Watch your tongue, silver one,” Ehtra growled.
Enki’s eyes, orbs of firmamental darkness, flicked over to Ehtra for a moment. “Ah, my error in category then. I should have spurred you on that I would return with big tits, then you would have restored me in full.”
“Gender bending was never one of my kinks,” John reported. “So, I guess you were doomed from the start.”
Arcane particles flew from the dragon’s nostrils, a harmless visualization of his haughty amusement. “I will be magnanimous. You have performed below expectations, but you at least came close. Whatever it is, I am now in your employ.”
“Out of interest, is that your free will or is your new nature coercing you?” John asked. The answer made little difference. Either this was Enki’s will, which was good, or the Perk had made him a being that wanted to serve John by his nature, in which case he did not have free will in the first place and any moral quandary was moot.
“I see my employ will be filled with idiotic ques-“
Enki’s light suddenly dimmed. The silver reduced to an almost lead-like grey, giving the avatar a sickly appearance. Any glow and sparkle he had was immediately turned into nothing. The jaw of the head slacked lethargically.
“Whaa---,” he slurred his voice.
“You will respect your Master,” Aclysia growled from the side. The Guild Hall settings window hovered in front of her. A quick mental investigation revealed that the first maid had found the part of the Heartkiln settings that provided Enki with power and diminished it to 10%. “Your haughty snipes are unappreciated and unnecessary. If you value a comfortable existence, you will speak with respect.” Aclysia pushed the slider back up so that Enki could answer properly.
Shaking his newly resplendent head, the mana construct gathered his thoughts, then cleared his throat. “I do give the due respect to the Gamer, who has seen it in him to return my great intellect to this world in his employ. Such is a feat of great power and wisdom.”
“Can we wrap this up?” Hailey drawled from the side. “We gotta get to a thing!”
“You hear my favourite country gal, so answer my question and then we can cover the details of our working relationship.”
“It is my free will. Your powers work on a wish fulfilment basis, do they not? They wouldn’t create a slave for you.”
John wasn’t entirely sure if that was true. He had some darker parts to his psyche, even if they rarely got to be in control. At the very least, it appeared that he had a willing employee in this matter. “We had that one hyper-competent local official, right? The always tired one?”
“Hank,” Scarlett answered before Momo could.
“Yes, him, I want Enki to work with him for a time so we can work out how he can help the administration most effectively. We’ll evaluate that next week. We’ll also talk about what luxuries you get in return, Enki.”
“Superb,” the former god of stars answered.
“Momo, I’ll leave it to you to connect the two,” John said while he checked the other things he had gotten. There were only two windows open. As a Special Class, Starforger did not have a follow-up.
Or perhaps it was because of that. A very interesting Modification but not one John saw himself using anytime soon. He had many other Classes he wanted to get up first and a month was a long time investment.
‘So, I effectively get a Mythical Ichor every 10 years? That’s pretty great,’ he thought. “I’ll decide what to use that on later. For now… let’s go.”
“Finally!” Hailey declared and jumped to her feet.
It was just him and her that left the room. There was an event today that Hailey had been looking forward to for many months. She even dressed up conservatively by her standards, although that was in large part because of the weather.
The country gal wore tight jeans and a tank top, an open jacket over it that was long enough to cover most of her butt from spying eyes and her breasts from any angle besides the direct front. As per usual, a cap with the symbol of the Oklahoma state sat right on top of her head, making it easy to believe that all her hair was as bright blonde as the sun-bleached wave that made it down to her upper back.
Even without oil stains, the green-eyed redneck was an unmistakable country gal in the way she dressed and moved. John loved it. He loved all of that almost as much as he loved her voice. As for himself, he chose to wear a simple grey shirt and nicely fitting pants alongside a simple jacket.
The quality of their clothes made it clear they were wealthy but they did not flaunt that wealth with any gimmicks or flashy colours.
John had set up a Long Range Teleporter in anticipation of today. The flash of arcane light had them surface in an entirely unpopulated Illusion Barrier, one that he would tear down alongside the teleportation outpost after the date.
Leaving the Illusion Barrier had them in a bustling crowd. It was entirely too large for the town it was located in. With its lovely brick buildings, simple streets and green countryside, Yorktown was fundamentally just another settlement along the coast of Virginia. What made the town of 200-300 people a spot of great attraction that day was not its economy or size but its history.
Hailey’s eyes sparkled like the stars on the numerous flags that waved in the wind. Only a few of them were the American flag everyone was used to seeing. The rest had only thirteen stars, representative of the Thirteen Colonies that had won a pivotal battle here in this city in 1781, putting an end to the revolutionary war that had started 15 years earlier.
If he was being honest, John did not quite understand why Hailey had insisted on coming here. There was a patriot in the Gamer, but more of a casual one. His country gal was tailored from red, white and blue cloth and saluted the flag without a hint of irony. That was reason enough for John to be happy to have come along.
“Do I smell apple pie?” Hailey asked after she had lowered her arm.
“Nothing as American as apple pie.” John offered his arm, she gleefully took it, and they joined the crowd.
The festival was separated into two rough areas. One was the area with a number of stalls. The event was far from the usual tourist trap, as only a certain variety of patriot and history nut would have been interested in attending. By proxy, what was on offer wasn’t the cheap plastic tokens that usually could be found, but genuine craftsmanship. Wood-carved eagles, American flags, recreations of muskets, little cannon figures and tin soldiers were all available to buy.
Hailey took full advantage of the fact that she was no longer the singular child of a poor homesteader. As the favoured country gal of one of the richest people on the planet, she could and did buy whatever souvenir tickled her fancy. John had wisely brought a shoulder bag along. It was full before they even arrived at the apple pie stand.
One slice was ordered and a slice that Texas would have approved of was delivered. The comely lady that ran the shop winked at the couple and Hailey answered with a broad grin.
Then, they made their way over to the other half of the festival grounds.
It was a massive open field. People respectfully stood at the edge of it, looking out as two forces of historically dressed actors pretended to shoot at each other with muskets. A guide, dressed as George Washington himself, proudly explained the war tactics used at the time. The man was handing out guns to the crowd. Recreations of the musket and long rifles used at the time – unloaded, of course.
John got the privilege of holding the weapon for Hailey, still busy eating her apple pie, while the actor finished up his rousing report. “And God himself ordained that our proud federation of united states shall be proclaimed independent! On the day that Cornwallis attempted to withdraw his troops, a storm swept through! Battered by the siege of the great founding father George Washington and his allies under the command of Jean-Baptiste-Donatien de Vimeur, the British army surrendered and thus ended the physical military presence of the lords and ladies across the pond!”
The crowd erupted into cheers at that. Predictably, a chant soon began. “U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!” People shook their fists in the air to the simple rhythm, more and more joining.
“U-S-A! U-S-A!” Hailey proudly lent her voice to the choir, waving her fork to the rhythm.
History was a complicated thing. One couldn’t say whether everything that had happened was the best it could have been. Trying to predict the future of the world, similarly, was often like betting against God. John was better at that than most, but even he had to admit that he was deeply fallible.
All that he knew for certain was that he had a country gal eating apple pie in one arm and held a historical musket in the other. His woman loved the country and he loved his woman. ‘Ah, what the hell?’ John thought and joined the chant. Sometimes it was nice to be part of the crowd.
And somewhere in the distance a bald eagle cried.
Comments
Charles Bell IV
That last line was a perfect way to end the chapter. I figured you would do a patriotic chapter of sorts
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