Michael Head
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Tycoon May: Chapter 37
🕑 Added 2023-06-09 23:47:21 +0000 UTCChapter 37
“You know, it’s a real stroke of luck that I came across Chug like that, just as I needed him.” Grant was sitting in his room inside the inn, using his Apprentice Repair spell to fix all of the dents and dings his armor and gear had collected. “It’s almost like the fates want me to win.”
<I don’t think this is about you specifically, Grant. This is Karma coming back on Tycoon May. You can’t do wrong by your people all the time, everywhere you go, without eventually facing consequences. My guess is, there are a lot of people like Chug out there right now, just waiting for the opportunity to get even with him.>
“So, you’re telling me if you treat people poorly for a long time, eventually it will catch up with you?” Grant watched carefully as a tear in his pack slowly closed until it looked almost brand new. “I guess it’s a good thing I showed up when I did. Otherwise, someone else might have set up the attack on him.”
<Oh, it doesn’t happen on its own, Grant. There has to be a spark to start the fires of retribution. You’re that spark, the same one that has passed through Spring, and now into the middle of Summer. It’s time to burn down the rot of what’s in place now, and make room for something new. Hopefully, something better.>
“Yeah, I definitely want to do better.” Grant took out a dent in his breastplate as he thought long and hard about how exactly he would go about being a better leader. “If I do become the Calendar King, what do you think my first rule should be?”
<Picking competent people to help you lead.> Sarge’s reply was instant, and the abruptness caught Grant off guard. <Like we’ve talked about before, surrounding yourself with people determined to see you succeed is vital to your future. Finding them is the hard part.>
“Well, I think I’ve found a few good ones already.” Grant thought back over the men and women he had come across over the past five months, knowing each of them had changed him in their own way. “I’ll do my best to be a hero of the people.”
<Don’t try to be a hero, Grant. Be a leader. Sometimes, that means doing what is necessary, not what is wanted.>
“I’m not sure what you mean by that, Sarge, but if I’m their hero, then I’m sure I’ll be doing what is necessary. So, that’s a win-win situation!” Happy with himself, Grant focused on quickly finishing up what he was doing. The training with Chug had been good exercise, and he was feeling rejuvenated for the coming day. He decided to take the time to check his stats, since it had been a while since he had looked them over.
Name: Grant Monday (Options: Grant Monday, Earl Spring, Lord April)
Rank: Earl Spring (Lord of The Month for January, February, March, and April)
Class: Foundation Cultivator
Cultivation Achievement Level: 37
Inherent Abilities: Swirling Seasons Cultivation
Health: 1093/1093
Mana: 44/44
Mana Regeneration: 5.5 per second
Physical Damage: 173
Critical Damage: 260
Magic Damage: 175
The most recent changes hadn’t been huge, but his mana regeneration was getting to the point where he wouldn’t have to worry about running out during a fight as long as he was smart about it. At least, as his spell list stood now. If he added more to his repertoire, it might be a bit different.
Grant knew his lower armor level was still the biggest thing holding him back at the moment. It was barely better than paper at this point, but he didn’t have a better option.
<Enough daydreaming. Get your gear around, and try to meditate. It isn’t just your armor holding you back. Your mental cultivation level is going to be your next chokepoint if you don’t start working on it.>
“Got it, Sarge.” Grant did as he was told, quickly using the washbasin in his room to clean up as best as he could before getting dressed and packing his things. Getting comfortable in the tiny room provided by the inn was difficult, but it was far better than the skull of a dead animal surrounded by a field of giant ants. As he focused inward, Grant could feel himself slipping into a trance-like state.
The world fell away, and Grant meditated. His Regeneration ability seemed to like it when his mind was calm, and he could feel even the sore muscles in his back slowly start to unknot. As his mind cleared, so did his thoughts. It wasn’t long before the shift in his brain brought with it a clarity he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He was about to go and fight someone from House Thursday as a member of House Monday. A completely defensive-focused enemy, with powers that will certainly negate most of the damage he could do. It was going to take a lot more time and energy to defeat him than Dokeshi March, the last person he had to fight to take their power fragment, since Junfa April had given her piece to him freely.
Plans about what he could do were formed and discarded by the dozen. There weren’t many things he knew about the environment where he would be fighting, which made it harder to decide anything permanent.
<Grant, it’s time.> As he opened his eyes, he realized it was already morning. His meditation had made time pass by quickly. <They are probably staging to leave at the gate already.>
“Why didn’t you warn me sooner?” Grant scrambled to get the last few items ready so he could leave. “I wanted time to eat breakfast!”
<You need to do a better job of being aware of the outside world while you meditate. The split second it would take me to warn you of an enemy could be the difference between life and death. Eating a cold meal on the road is a mild lesson in comparison to how harsh it could have been.>
He didn’t exactly like it, but Grant knew the sword spirit was right. It wasn’t a good idea to lose himself completely inside his own head like that. That didn’t stop him from grumbling quietly under his breath as he stomped his way down the stairs to the bottom floor of the inn.
When he got there, he was expecting to see the normal sights and sounds of a common room in an inn. Loud, boisterous men and women sitting at tables filled to bursting with people, stuffing their faces with food and drink. Instead, what he found was something closer to a bunch of people at a funeral.
<More like a bunch of soldiers preparing themselves for war.> As Grant looked at the grimaces on the faces around him, he couldn’t help but agree. Everyone was… sad. Maybe a few were angry, but most of them seemed outright defeated. <They know something big is on the horizon. At the very least, they’ve heard about House Thursday suppressing information about monster meat, and they’re starting to piece together what that truly means for their society. No one likes change, and big changes are coming.>
“Well, I guess I better get to work then. Drawing things out will only make it harder on them.” Grant headed for the door, grabbing a small loaf of bread someone had abandoned off of a table as he left. The few whispers and hushed conversations he overheard on his way out were all about Tycoon May, and whether or not they should believe the rumors about monster meat being edible or not. From the fear in their voices, Grant suspected they already knew the truth.
Outside, things seemed a little more lively than they had in the inn. Businesses were opening up, carts were rumbling up and down the cobblestone streets, and Tier One and Tier Two badge holders hustled toward their daily jobs as the sun poked over the horizon. At this early hour, Grant didn’t see a single Tier Three badge holder.
Threading his way through the city streets to the gate didn’t take long, and Grant eventually caught sight of the wagons staged off to the side of the roadway, loaded and ready to leave. Except, there wasn’t a single person with the wagons. Something was wrong. Everyone was missing.
