Apocalypse: Fairy System Macronomicon (a book to read txt) 📖

Mr. Lang himself was a contractor, which suited Jeb perfectly.

Jeb took them inside the mansion and closed the door. “Alright everyone, gather round. I’mma ‘bout to give you the speech.”

They gave him their attention.

“Okay, first of all: We will never be friends.”

Jeb scratched his head, chuckling as the room full of middle-aged men and women frowned at him.

Jeb cleared his throat. “I believe that there are certain doors, certain possibilities in a relationship that close permanently upon one person purchasing another person. Friendship is one of them.

“I don’t want any of you pretending you like me for fear that I’ll beat or resell you. I am your boss. I do not care if you like me, and now that you’re here, you will not be beaten or resold, regardless of what you do. The highest priority for you is simply making sure this job goes off without a hitch.

“So contradict me, second-guess me, tell me when I’m fucking up...but as soon as I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it.”

The assembled people watched him intently, paying careful attention to his words.

“For my part, I will make sure you’re paid and cared for until the job is over, at which point I give you my word, I will set you free and give you the mansion. Make a school out of it or something. I don’t care.”

Mrs. Lang frowned. “What do you mean by ‘the job’?’”

“Ladies and gentlemen, you may or may not have noticed that the vast majority of you have a background in education. This is not by accident.

“I believe there is a killer stalking the streets of Solmnath. This particular killer has been targeting at-risk children, snatching orphans and children separated from their parents, picking them off...killing them in order to raise their level. Unfortunately, children that fit those criteria are pretty abundant recently.”

Mrs. Lang’s jaw dropped. “That’s horrible.”

Mr. Everett simply scowled, his usually cheerful demeanor turning ugly.

“Now, I have been deputized by an imperial enforcer to handle the problem.” Jeb pulled the copper plate out of his pocket and flashed it at them before they looked at it too closely.

It might be hard to take him seriously when his deputy badge looked like a mudflap girl.

“The job is this: I am going to relocate several dozen at-risk children in order to lure out the killer. When he sniffs around for the person intruding on his territory, I am going to kill him. Your job is to take care of the kids and keep them in the mansion. This job could take several months, but in the end, we’ll get several dozen homeless kids a place to sleep, and hopefully murder a serial killer. Fun, right?”

“This would never fly in America,” Mr. Everett said.

“Good thing we’re not in America.”

“You can’t just arbitrarily kidnap children for the sake of laying a trap for a serial killer.”

“Why not?”

“Can’t you just…investigate?” Mrs. Everett asked, clutching her chest. “Kidnapping children seems…”

“Extreme?” Jeb asked. “I never said I wouldn’t be investigating. I’ll be doing that, too. If it helps, don’t think of it as kidnapping. Think of it as pulling these kids out of a killer’s crosshairs.”

“Being abducted can do serious damage to a kid’s mind. It can impact them for the rest of their life,” Mrs. Lang said.

“More than starving on the street or getting murdered?” Jeb asked, raising a brow. “Besides, mental health is what I bought you guys for.” Jeb motioned to the two outstanding teachers. “I assume the two of you have master’s degrees in developmental psychology?” He eyed Mr. Everett and Mrs. Lang.

“…True,” Mr. Everett admitted.

“But dear. Kidnapping them?” Mrs. Lang asked, looking up at her husband.

“Sweetheart, I think this is one of those situations where it’s better us than them.”

“What about me?” Eddie asked.

“This Myst lens converts magic into jet fuel,” Jeb said, pulling the lens out of his backpack and tossing it at the scientist. “Knock yourself out.”

A manic giggle rose in the scientist’s throat, and he began petting the lens like Gollum with The One Ring.

“First thing’s first,” Jeb said, clapping his hands. “Get this place ready for company. Mr. Everett, Mrs. Lang, you’re in charge. Eddie, you’re with me.”

Jeb took out his remaining tube of gold. “Supplies,” he said, handing it to Mrs. Lang. He also took out the deeds that proved he owned them and passed them over to their respective person.

“Also, take these. You did more to earn them than I did. Carry them on your person, hang them in your room, whatever you want. I’ll sign the release when we’ve got the guy I’m looking for.”

That taken care of, Jeb spun on his heel and went back out the front door, Eddie trailing behind him. Jeb broke into a light jog, clomping his way around to the back of the mansion, where he’d parked the Jeep and trailer.

Right beside the mansion was what appeared to be a storm cellar: two big double doors on rusted hinges. They led down into a rather large basement, which stretched about thirty paces in either direction—plenty for a single man to set up a small lab/production facility.

Jeb needed somewhere to grind out the gold bullion once he really started spending. Somewhere preferably out of line of sight. There would be enough people wondering where he got his money from.

He also wanted to see what a real scientist could do with Myst engines.

Note to self. Get more Myst engines.

In all likelihood, a Myst engine was incredibly valuable, given that it could be used to power a lens-mine.

“Welcome to your new lab,” Jeb said, motioning to the musty expanse. A spider skittered up one of the stone support beams. “Whaddya think?”

Eddie sniffed, glancing at the