The air in their small restaurant was thick with the buzz of anticipation from the small table at the back. John stepped over to it with Oleg at his side, the conversation pausing mid-conversation. He looked entirely different from before. Gone were the rough, travel-worn cloak and outfit form before; in their place was a fine black suit, the fabric shimmering like silk woven with subtle notes of deep forest green that seemed to catch the light. His once shaggy and slightly messy hair was cut short, meticulously styled now framing a face that appeared softer and smoother with a clean shave as both time and worry had been washed away even though it hadn't been that long since everything had happened. Yet, it was the left arm that truly pulled a person's attention: the sleeve was seemingly torn away, replaced by a sleek, solid silver and black gauntlet that extended from shoulder down to the very tips of his fingers in what seemed like one solid yet functional piece. Each of his fingers seemed to flex almost unconsciously, a subtle, rhythmic motion betraying the power housed within as the sleeve would react both to mental commands and focus, needing time to learn to properly use subconsciously.
John ran a hesitant hand over the smooth, metallic surface of the gauntlet, a slight frown creasing his brow. "And you're sure this new look of mine will carry over and handle my bulk up? I appreciate all the help but I don't want it all to go to waste once I start filling out." His voice held a hint of vulnerability and slight fear as he addressed Oleg.
Thoris clapped him on the shoulder, the gesture nearly knocking him off balance. "Bah, if he took ya to dat old eight-legged freak, ya're in good hands, lad! His work ties to da soul, so it will go with ya, no matter how much ya expand. But I gotta say, ya cleaned up real good. Wish ya had a long and proper beard, though but perhaps given enough time it will come." he added with a theatrical sigh, stroking his own magnificent facial hair. "But dat could probably just be ma dwarf side talking." A wide, genuine smile split his face revealing teeth that had seen more than their fair share of ale and seemingly pointed enough to be a weapon all their own.
Around them, the other members of their unlikely fellowship were also praising and giving nods of their own seemingly approving the changes and each having clearly returned from their own missions. Oleg went first, pulling out and placing a crate next to him that seemed far larger than his pocket should have been able to hold followed by Squib who placed a smaller, more refined box beside ti. Gorg, with his usual slow energy, patted a massive iron-banded silver chest that layed with the other two. "We bring good goods!" he bellowed, his voice seemingly echoing through the room.
Arwin stepped forward next, his gaze cutting directly to John. His manner was utterly serious and every word seemed to be carefully chosen. "Now, my friend, I asked around. Well there are whispers that new merchants appear at times they often show up far too late as local ones are already established, but over the last sixty years more have slowly been showing up all over the place in manners they can't properly explain. All their own merchants in there worlds though are ones established in there, meaning they're tied to those gods and the new ones who do sometimes show up are often forced to work under them or show their own deep ties with the gods, I, along with my contacts gave it a bit of thought and after discussing it we feel this could be a new way for those gods to try and gain something, a new way to root into newly changed worlds in general and somehow allowing the merchants far better access and ways to cross from wherever they come from as part of some kind of deal with the gods, we could be wrong but that's the theory we've spoken about and come to. Regardless of any of that, you will need to establish three things from them and from yourself before you can proceed to use the merchants and there lines as a form of protection, especially if you plan to trade here and use the goods from here in your world."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "First, you need to ensure your traded goods are branded in some way and that they can't be used against you. We'll be helping you imprint everything with your unique mark before you leave here though, it's a form of magical signature that not only identifies ownership but also makes them unusable by hostile forces without your express will, another benefit of the place bought at this place of those in our own worlds. Next would be exclusivity contracts. If you tell them they can't sell to someone, they will be contractually and magically bound not to sell to that specific person or group, it's a good way to keep your goods out of the hands of those you don't want using them since just because they can't use it on you doesn't mean that protection extends to allies. Breaking such a pact would carry severe, soul-level consequences. This ensures control over distribution networks, preventing your resources from directly aiding our enemies any unforeseen ways. Thirdly and perhaps most importantly, you will need to have them establish their own 'Chamber of Commerce' at some point or whatever local equivalent they call it. This means you will need to get many merchants under their umbrella, greatly increasing the spread of your goods and trade routes beyond the two you seem to have currently. You will, and this is not something negotiable, need to make it so that they and by extension, you, are so deeply rooted within the economic fabric of the worlds and places they go to and your own that the gods can't make a move on them without hurting their own interests even better would be if you can cause any action taken against you to ripple out and shake the foundations of their own power bases, that's how deep you need to try and make it."
John's brow furrowed, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "But what if I just refuse to have my goods sold to them? Cut off a way to aid them well supplying only my allies and using those kinds of contracts to keep them from selling or trading them to my enemies?" He didn't like the idea of supplying the very forces he sought to undermine and destroy.
Arwin didn't miss a beat in replying. "A good question, but a foolish one in this context. We want to allow your goods and more to reach them. Goods, resources and information will be your most powerful weapons in the art of trade. Have their funds funnel to your pockets and war chest that you, in turn use against them. As I said, take root and make them need you and what you can provide. Just because they're your enemy doesn't mean you can't use them for your own benefit. If you're rooted deep enough, they can't risk harming you openly without upsetting others and creating internal fights, and if they do decide to try and take actions it would only be after they feel that they've stocked enough to weather the economic collapse they'd cause by cutting you off, that's the level of depth you will need to reach and meant for the future. Doing this pretty much ensures their hands get tied. This way even if they make a move against you and you haven't taken deep enough root into the merchants you will have still built up some funds as a war chest that you can use on better plans than you would have before and in general have a far better point to continue on from compared to when you first started. Naturally, its size will depend on how soon they react but still, it will give you multiple paths to use, multiple layers of defense and offense. An added bonus is how this could be seen as a form of you conceding to them without really doing so, rather having it appear as if you're playing part of their game but instead, you're twisting the rules and adding in a few fine printed ones yourself."
"He's always been the smart one in regards to this, so trust his foresight," Squib piped up, a mischievous glint in his eye. "His got an eye for profit and helped all of us earn quite the tidy sum over the years, even if his taste in boobs is questionable." Arwin shot him a withering glare, but a ripple of laughter spread through the others. Even Sweet Bell offered a faint, amused sigh clearly used to this kind of behavior.
Thoris grumbled a few moments afterwards but his eyes held a spark of pride and mirth. "We got all da things on ya lists and a whole lot o extra things, figured we go big or go home. Ya can pay us back once ya make it big, alright? Even if it wasn't dat expensive, we'll take it more as a investment dan a gift understood?" He then wagged a finger at John, his expression turning serious for a moment. "And ya gottta tell us a way ta da gods if ya ever find one! Dats the price ya will need ta pay."
John's smile was genuine now, a stark contrast to his earlier apprehension. "Thank you, all of you. I really do appreciate all the help, more than any words I can ever say. Next time when I come back, I'll be getting everyone drinks and I'll tell you how things have gone. The meal will be on me – all you can eat and whatever your heart's desire."
"Only if dere will be girls as well!" Thoris immediately declared, his eyes twinkling. "Figure out a place here ta take us after yer shit is sorted ta show dat appreciation! A proper celebration after all da hard work makes the alcohol all da better!" His sentiment was met with enthusiastic nods and murmurs of agreement from everyone else, except for Sweet Bell, who let out another exasperated sigh with a small, weary shake of her head.
John's initial confidence wavered slightly though realizing he may have promised more than his future wallet might be able to handle. "I'll try to make sure you all have the best experience I can give, but are you sure this is the right way to do things? It's going to draw a lot of attention to me and I can't fully say if I can handle the heat, and there's no doubt to you guys could be dragged in as well by proxy should they recognize what I have or that you lot where the source of it." The implications of challenging divine powers were not lost on him and even after all their words his resolve and trust in his strength still wasn't as firm as his conviction to make the gods pay.
Oleg stepped forward, his voice a low rumble. "Let them come. We've pushed them from our worlds and we're crushing their small supports wherever we see them. This is just another big middle finger for them like we said, it's a blatant act of defiance against their perceived omnipotence. Don't tell me your getting cold feet now, you can do this and we will be throwing our support and more importantly our weight behind you, and we have a lot of both." he told him with a jokingly light tone, but John could tell it had an underlying current of seriousness and a challenge.
"No," John replied, meeting Oleg's gaze with newfound resolve. "I just don't want my new friends to be troubled by this and I was unsure if I could handle what was coming."
A collective laugh erupted at that remark. Thoris clapped him on the shoulder again, more gently this time. "Nah, rather worry 'bout yerself, lad. They're gonna be pissed and pull out all da stops ta squash ya, so keep strong and make sure ya come back and tell us all yer tales, cause even if it was a tiny investment I hate ta lose coin and fail investments dat I used me own coin fer!" He leaned in, his gaze entirely serious. "And ya promised food, booze and babes, so I expect it from ya next visit, no question!" The underlying message was clear: they were in this together and John had their full, if gruff, support before leaving with some others giggling about a big pair of pillows waiting for him.
With a small nod, John turned to Arwin, listening and learning as he began giving him detailed instructions on what to do. The ancient elf, his movements fluid and precise, meticulously demonstrated the intricate imprinting method in a way he could easily understand. He watched, absorbed and then immediately set to practice, applying the arcane technique to the various goods he intended to bring back, starting with the least important and most numerous items in case he accidently damaged anything. His hand, though unaccustomed, moved with a surprising intuitive grace after the first few tries and Arwin found himself genuinely impressed by his rapid learning and seemingly inherent knack for the difficult craft but took pride in it, feeling he was the reason John picked it up so fast by being a great teacher. It wasn't long before Arwin, like the others before him left to enjoy the rest of their time at the mall but not before declaring his intention to "give the ladies proper elven love," leaving John alone with only Oleg and the silent, watchful Sweet Bell. The brief solitude settled heavily, a quiet before the storm John couldn't yet foresee.
"You sure you will manage to take all of this? I have spare tags you can use for the goods and people you that would need them, it would leave me a bit short but even so I don't mind; admittedly, it's my own fault for not thinking ahead in that regard." Oleg's voice rumbled with genuine concern and mild embarrassment, his massive frame casting a long shadow as he reached into a pouch as the three of them stood in front of the restaurant now, most of John's goods either stored in Storage bags and pouches or arranged for tags to be delivered and used for the rest of the stuff including people and beasts. "Oh, and here, this should help with those watchers and servants, something we made from special materials that always gives them and their servants a 'nice' surprise when pulled on them." John waved a dismissive hand at the mention of tags, a faint smile on his lips. "Don't worry about the tags, I've got that front covered." His gaze turning into curiosity as he looked over the odd blade Oleg presented to him. It had no discernible handle, yet as John's fingers brushed it, it seemed to soften, molding itself perfectly to his grasp as if it was always meant to be there. Its edge pulsed with a faint, ethereal purple light, shining with an otherworldly luminescence that hinted at formidable power. The air around it felt strangely still, the weapon itself felt as ancient and dangerous as the supposed gods if he were to be honest.
He didn't have much more time to marvel at it or learn about it though. A familiar thrumming sensation resonated deep within him as if signaling that his allotted time in this realm was drawing to a close, it felt almost like a timer began to tick in his mind slowly counting down. Quickly, he secured the blade at his side, feeling its unusual comfort. With practiced haste, he finished his packing, ensuring everything was imprinted and ready before, with a deep breath under Oleg and Sweet Bells gaze, John pulled out Amy's card. It pulsed faintly in his grip for a few moments. As he focused, a tiny, almost imperceptible trickle of his own internal energy into the shimmering surface. The air around him shimmered for a moment, distorting reality for a fleeting second before a small, intricate magic circle flared to life on the ground. From its swirling depths Amy slowly rose, a vision of vibrant energy, her characteristic bubbly smile already in place as she looked at him.
"Hello, dear customer! Your guide is here at your request! How can I help you this time?" She chirped, her voice light and musical, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had preceded her. The magic circle fading away, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air around her that also soon faded away.
John managed a small, wry laugh that carried a nervous edge to it. "Hey Amy, I need a lot of tags for people and goods but I will be leaving soon and I need the tags used for them, could you do it? Also, it seems I'll be I'm taking a whole lot back with me soon, so I was hoping to buy the tags I need for all of it from you. I figured as a guide, you could provide the necessary ones for the people and certainly for the items, which, considering the number, are no doubt needed and, well I figured it would be better to trust you with this because of your role here and everything else you told me you could do." He said a well visibly nervous and embarrassed, hoping he had explained it properly to the guide. He watched as she saluted with an exaggerated flourish before leaning forward towards him, her gaze unnervingly direct as she seemed to peer into his very soul.
"Dear customer," she began, her tone abruptly shifting, losing its playful lilt to become strangely serious, "it's clear you will be taking a massive amount and I must inform you that most guides would not even entertain the idea of you taking so many people, let alone the quantity of items, due to the imbalance it could cause in the buyers own world when there still so young. Most if not all would actively try to stop you, and if it where anyone other than me they would no doubt do so after you had called them" Her eyes, usually so bright and welcoming, hardened with an unexpected gravity as if all he had bought and gifted was laid bare before her. Then, without warning, she tilted her head to the side, as if listening to a sound no one else could perceive, her expression momentarily distant, almost ethereal as her eyes glazed over. A shiver ran down John's spine at that, a premonition of something far deeper and more dangerous than he had anticipated had taken interest in this and he wasn't sure if it was for good or not, especially with the warning she had just given him.
"The total cost is 6320 coins," she finally said slowly, her voice now devoid of any warmth, purely transactional as she looked at him oddly. "And you will need to come with me to meet with someone to explain everything on your next trip here. You have a single month of your own worlds time to return and follow through with the meeting. Should you fail to return within a month or your answers prove not to be satisfactory for them, you will be punished with complete soul death. All realms and realities where you exist shall meet the same fate and your consciousness will be imprisoned and used by said person however they see fit for as long as they desire. Should you agree to the cost and these terms, you shall be allowed to proceed with this transaction and transfer along with any future such transactions and trades. The terms are non-negotiable and I need a verbal answer now."
Oleg felt jaw dropped at hearing this, his mind struggling to process the sudden, terrifying escalation. Even Sweet Bell was taken aback and stared with wide eyes. "What! This is absurd! I have nev-"
"You are of a higher world, green skin." Amy's voice cracked like a whip, sharp and unforgiving as her eyes burnt into him. An almost physical pressure erupted from her, pushing John flat to the floor without even being its focus. Sweet Bell who was standing floating nearby, fell to the floor, holding herself up if barely on her hands and knees as she began gasping for air. As for Oleg who was the target of the glare, had expected something but even he fell to one knee, muscles straining visibly against the invisible force that pinned them down all down. "He is from a far lower and more malleable world; his existence here is overlooked on a whim and favor for others. I choose not to understand what my betters think as it is not my place to question them, but know I will ban your access here for a year or longer if you try to push me, so don't interfere in matters regarding your betters' green skin!" Her tone was cold and as sharp as ice, as she walked over to Oleg. Her seemingly delicate hand grabbing the hair and seemingly causing a handful of his black hair to be gripped before pulling it down causing his head to be pulled down to meet her own leveled gaze, forcing him to glare into her eyes as he snarled in impotent rage. "Your worlds? They're nothing but a tiny sandbox compared to a beach. Your power? A firefly to the sun. You may think your some big boy but your nothing, to make it understandable you and your little friends are preschoolers fighting grade schoolers well the high school and college students watch, point and laugh at all of you. So shut your green gob before I shut it for you!"
And just as abruptly as it had appeared, the crushing pressure vanished. Amy turned back to John, her smile instantly reappearing, as if the last few moments had been nothing more than a bad dream. She casually extended a hand, helping him back to his feet. "I apologies for that outburst but sometimes we are forced to make matters clear to those without working minds or good brains, it happens far more than you could imagine. So, dear customer, are the terms agreeable? Or do you wish to leave the goods and people behind along with being barred access to the mall for yourself and every alternative of yourself from this point forward?"
A shiver traced its way down John's spine, a chilling reminder of the raw power he had just witnessed. He looked at her, his eyes a mix of fear and dawning comprehension. "I don't really have a choice in this, do I?" he asked with a small sigh, his voice barely a whisper. Amy responded with a soft giggle, a sound that under any other circumstances would have been cute, but now merely amplified the unsettling contrast of her demeanor.
"Of course, you do, dear customer," she replied innocently, her hand stretched out in invitation. "You can take the offer or refuse and never come back. There's always a choice and always a price for choice and consequences to actions." Her smile remained fixed and her eyes twinkling slightly but unblinking.
With a heavy sigh, John gripped her outstretched hand. "I'll accept the terms. I will return next week through the metal plate thing. But please, go easy on Oleg and Sweet Bell, they're my friends after all and have only been pulled into this by trying to be good people trying to help me." His plea was genuine, a small act of defiance in the face of overwhelming power and feeling responsible for the escalation.
"Of course, dear customer! I treat everyone the same and fairly. It's only that the great green buffoon over there tried to overstep, I would not have had to do anything to him if he hadn't! Now I wish you pleasant travels and good luck dear customer! I will endeavor to complete all that has been tasked to me." Amy said, her dazzling smile fixed on John until the very last second, right as he began to fade away a pair of his coin bags faded away as another seemed to shrink slightly, Amy no doubt talking her fee as he shimmered out of existence through her own means. The moment he was gone her smile vanished, replaced by an expression of cold, unyielding fury as her gaze turned to Oleg and Sweet Bell.
Oleg who was still reeling from the humiliation returned her look with a solid glared. "What are you?" He began, "You're not a guide; they don't have this kind of power or authority. There's also never been such restrictions before regardless of the state of a visitor's world, if there were the various levels would have far stricter conditions and access requirements. I happen to be a VIP member of this place and-"
"And it means jack shit, you walking gummy bear," She snapped, the venom in her voice thick and palpable as she cut him off. "You think just because you throw some coins around you're something special? You're not! Now shut up before I bitch-slap some sense into you. I am, in fact, a guide and I carry such a title with pride! I just happen to be one beyond your pay grade. I don't know why my masters have an interest in him, but they do. I don't question their orders and commands, only following them and doing as I am told. Your little stunt here with your group caused them to change plans or something, as I said I don't really question them or try to understand their plans but thankfully your actions weren't enough to ruin their plans. It did make them feel rather annoyed though and when they're annoyed? Well, they make it felt and it means no one is happy. So, Shrek reject, you and your merry band of rejects will keep your word to him and do everything possible to support him in whatever ways you promised and more. You lot can feel free to use him, have him be a tool to 'strike the gods' or whatever your real goal is by hyping him up and making him a target and distraction but harm him, hamper him or make a problem of yourselves for him and I will be the least of your worries. Am I understood Shreky?"
With a guttural growl, Oleg attempted to swing at her, but something felt extremely wrong. A sharp gasp from Sweet Bell caused him to realize why. A chunk of his right side was gone along with both his swung arm and even a leg, it was also perfectly clean and seemingly cauterized which kept him from bleeding causing his mind to reel. "H-how, when-"
With a contemptuous shove, Amy pushed him onto his back. Then, with a casual snap of her fingers, his missing limbs and bit of body reappeared, perfectly restored as if nothing had ever happened.
"You accused John of playing a game? Well you're no better, heck you're probably a lot worse. Your little armies and tiny bit of power are nothing in the grand scheme of things when compared to my bosses playing field. I suggest you know your place cabbage face, else others will put you in it and I promise it won't be pleasant." Amy delivered her final, chilling glare, her eyes burning with an ancient, terrifying power before she too disappeared, leaving a thoroughly shaken and utterly confused Oleg behind, with a deeply concerned Sweet Bell by his side.
The silence that followed was oppressive, broken only by Oleg's ragged breaths. The feeling of utter powerlessness, of having his body effortlessly dismantled and reassembled, ignited a cold, burning fury within him as old, long buried memories of his younger life clawed to the forefront. "We will need to tell the others of this," he finally said, his voice raw with a newfound resolve, "and definitely John when we see him next, he needs to be warned about whatever that thing was and about her boss's. Let's go. We need to catch the others before they leave and figure out what to do from here." He clenched his fist, the sensation of his restored limbs a stark reminder of his vulnerability. This helplessness was something he never wanted to feel again but instead of succumbing to the fear, he channeled it, using it as a driving force and vowing that he would surpass this, that he would grow stronger until he could put her and those above her beneath his foot. It made him realize they had been far too lax, they needed to return to their old, rigorous training regimens and shatter the stagnation that had subtly crept into their lives and gripped them without realizing it.
"We have a long path ahead, we all do. We grew complacent, to content and set with what we had built. I can't say for the others, but I think we need to get back to growing again Sweet Bell." He concluded, his gaze hardened with grim determination. Sweet Bell's her own eyes reflecting a deep worry mixed with a growing fire as she offered her own soft but firm agreement. The world, they now understood, was far larger and far more dangerous than they had ever truly grasped. It went beyond just the gods they had thought were their greatest enemies. Instead it seemed those very same enemies may be nothing more than puppets, used by others without realizing it much like so many of his old friends and enemies had during those early days and that honestly seemed to greatly unsettle him far more than he was willing to admit.