The young man was called Saccio and he was full of fire and idealism. Verton was a city on a hill, the shining light of the world. If it could free itself of foreign oppression, it would hoist a light for all of humanity. It could be the lighthouse of the world. Bringing light to all the dark places that humanity currently dwelled in.

  I was a half inch from smacking him by the fifth sentence. It was a violent spray of metaphors about light guiding people. From there, he smoothly transitioned into the need for courage, for brave people unafraid of doing the right thing. Willing to storm the barricades, unafraid to shed red blood in the cause of freedom!

  The Mayor, who thought he would make an excellent duke and who specified that he had subjects, not citizens, nodded gravely along with him. All I could do was smile politely. The game had made damn sure I knew he was working with Hosk and the monsters. Though, of course, I had no proof. But then, this wasn’t a courtroom drama. Didn’t need proof. I had artillery.

  Rifles and artillery. Once you had them, Shogun II- Fall of the Samurai became a damn walkover on anything but the hardest difficulties. AND you didn’t have the geisha animation anymore, even if you still had the units. Very disappointing DLC, only saved by my roleplaying all the Foreign Veterans as weebs visiting the holy land and finding work so they could stay longer.

  Saccio boldly informed me that secret bands of brave men, men who trained in secret, hidden, courageous, were ready to leap, at a moment’s notice, to bravely strike from the shadows and free Verton from both foreign occupiers and domestic parasites.

  I looked impressed, and was. Not just anyone can mix their metaphors as they beat them to death.

  “You have given me a lot to think about, Your Honor, Mr. Saccio. I’m going to have to think carefully before giving you my commitment.”

  “Quite. Finish up any work you might have, then return. But be quick about it. We have very little time.” The mayor frowned at me. I made a polite half bow to both men and quickly scurried away.

  “Miyuki, Rikka, come and report.” I muttered. I had found a reasonably discreet alley. Maybe it was good enough to keep away prying eyes.

  “My lord.” The two ninjas appeared. Miyuki got stuck carrying the big bundle of cloth.

  “How did it go?”

  “No problems, my Lord.” Miyuki reported. She sounded a bit proud. She should be. This must have been pushing the absolute limits of what her programming could manage.

  “Very well done. I knew you could do it. Rikka, anyone come snooping around while she was signaling?”

  “Several people, my Lord, but none approached too closely. I believe they were trying to see who was on top of the tower, without success.”

  “Recognize any of them?”

  “No, my Lord.”

  “Any of them wearing jackets with lots of brass buttons?”

  “No, my Lord.” Rikka shook her head.

  “Probably a dead end, then. Ah well. Let’s check in on our Three Handers.” I had positioned them to guard the cistern and the winch that controlled the portcullis at the city gate. They reported plenty of weird looks, but no actual issues. Fair enough. I kept them at their posts.

  I called in at Pastet’s place next. “So! What’s next for the merchant prince?”

  “Ah, no, please, while I appreciate the complement, it’s considered terrible bad luck to associate yourself with the aristocracy in the Merchant’s Guild. It tends to be a sign of megalomania.”

  “Really?” I would have thought megalomania would be a common feature of the guild.

  “Yes, it’s already a common feature-”

  “Called it.”

  “Of the Guild, sorry, called what?”

  “Never mind. Not important. The invasion fleet is sunk, commerce can resume, so what’s next for you?”

  “Ah, would that it were so simple. Commerce cannot resume. There remains one major impediment.” He shook his head sadly.

  I looked around his office. It was… rather basic feeling, but that might just be my anachronistic view. A carved wooden chair, a table with a rug over it for a desk, some shelves, a few cabinets. There were a few portraits on the walls and pictures of places I didn’t recognize. There was a little fireplace against the back wall. And that was about it.

  As conspicuous displays of wealth went, it didn’t go far.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “The great chain. It still blocks off the river. And, arguably worse, the cannon Truso has trained on it. We need to put both out of commission. And there is no reason not to, now that the invasion has been stopped.”

  I slid my eyes over to Othai. She looked like she had been replaced with a plywood mannequin. The system was coming down hard on her. Maybe the designers just didn’t think the absence of an answer could also be a sort of answer.

  “Sheer stubbornness on Truso’s part?”

  “And the Mayor. He’s convinced the ‘time isn’t right’ for some inane reason. Even Mr. Bacciato, who can usually be relied upon to be sensible about commercial matters, is behaving oddly. Well, I’m not going to put up with it. We have goods that must travel. Not soon, immediately!”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  I nodded slowly. “A little bird tells me you need to get some paperwork out. I would think a single small boat at the mouth of the river would do the trick just fine.”

  The thin faced merchant snorted and rolled his eyes. “The Mayor whined about the loan, did he? What, did he think I kept it here in a little box marked ‘Blood Money?’ Idiot.”

  “Not true?”

  “Most of the loan was bookkeeping- we sold him the loan here, but paid the money directly into Genuda’s state account here in Verton. Moved numbers from one side of the column to another, if you like. The transaction took place in a bank owned by our members. That bank also has a branch in Genuda which handles Genuda’s foreign transactions, then remits money to their treasury. The only way Genuda knows they have been paid is if a record of the transaction reaches that bank branch.”

  “The bond records went out in a diplomatic box?” I guessed.

  “Not twenty minutes after the bond was signed. The mayor is an idiot for thinking he can somehow run from the debt if he just drags things out. Maybe he thinks it can be stolen back from us or something equally insane.” Pastet leaned back in the chair looking sardonic. “All he is doing is delaying Verton’s resupply. The fields were harvested too soon. There won’t be nearly enough food come winter, even with the invasion defeated.”

  “Unless trade was reopened, and food was imported from less troubled regions.”

  “Exactly. And if they can’t be persuaded, then they will simply have to accept changed circumstances beyond their control.”

  “Like a blown up winch holding up the great chain, and the cannons suddenly being spiked.” I played along.

  “A man of vision.” He smiled. Kind of smiled. The side of his mouth twitched, and it was clearly the best I would get.

  “I appreciate the vote of confidence. Let me get right back to you about this.” I reciprocated his smile and slipped out. I didn’t even shake my head when Othai glanced over. “Don’t. I know. Goddess preserve me, I know. Let’s see what Mr. Bacciato has to say.”

  “Ah, my friend!” Mr. Bacciato was sitting on a little bench outside a restaurant. I always found him there. Why there and not in the restaurant, I don’t know. But he still had a welcoming, dead-eyed smile for me, and patted a spot on the bench next to him. I sat.

  “Mr. Bacciato, you look very well. However, it seems the city is still in a bad way.”

  “True, true. Everyone is acting like the danger from Hosk is gone, but is it really? And worse, what about the danger that was always within our city?”

  “That does, indeed, sound worse. Please, say more.” I nodded, silently betting myself a Runed Bone that I knew where this was going.

  “I think you can see it for yourself. We have a mayor with delusions of empire. We have foreign occupiers, bleeding the lifeblood from the city. We have external threats from Hosk, Wastet, and who knows where else. The merchants are venal, loyal to nothing but coin, and damn the harm it does to the city and her people. And then there are the people themselves.”

  Mr. Bacciato sighed and waved dispiritedly at the city. “Look at her, my friend. Verton, in all her faded glory. We could be so much more. Should be so much more. But the vigor has gone out of her. All those proud sons who used to hone their edge in duels have turned into empty vases. Decorative, but useless. Even the militia, thin beer that it was, was filled with the lowest orders of the city.”

  Mr. Bacciato didn’t spit in the street, but he looked like he was seriously considering it.

  “Something must be done.” I said, working with the bit. Fingers crossed, my Awakened would see how it was done, and emulate my good example.

  “Yes, and done quickly, while there is still any red blood running in our veins. While there are still men of courage and ability with a will to act.” His gaze met mine. Firm. Manly. Inspiring.

  In the sense that he inspired the memory of a meme.

  "You know the thing about a shark...he's got lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eye. When he comes at ya, he doesn't seem be living, until he bites ya and the black eyes roll over white."

  I didn’t say it out loud, of course. Not like anyone here had seen Jaws. But it felt on point. Kind of wishing I had seen the movie now, actually, instead of just the memes. Maybe it would have some useful tips.

  “Please, my friend, just speak directly. What do you have in mind?”

  “We need unity. A single organized force that truly combines the strength of every part of the city. A Mayor who truly embodies the will of the real Verton. A military that belongs to the city itself. Trade that is controlled by the city, not foreign merchants. And yes, a reformation of the people as well. For too long have the leading families of this city remained quiet. Allowing the people to slip into degeneracy. No more, my friend. No more, and no longer.”

  I had to blink at that. He was making an alarming amount of sense.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Take bold action. My friends in the city will lead a popular uprising, securing every key business, key defensive structure, every grainery, the cistern, the gates. Even the barracks. Though in that case it will be more of an… isolation, rather than an outright assault.”

  I nodded. Smart men do not stick their hands into the garbage disposal, even if they did drop something important in there.

  “You just need to secure three men. Secure them, and bring them to… a quiet place. Where they can be persuaded to support our cause.”

  “Truso, the Mayor and Pastet.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you aren’t worried about Hosk because-?”

  “We would simply shut the city gates until order was restored. We might not be able to fight a field battle, but the men of the militia are still here. Once we take the armory, defending the walls will be simple enough.”

  His voice was direct, his eye contact solid. One man talking to another, in a manly way. Can’t say I was used to it. A bit flattering, honestly. But mostly I was just uncomfortable. I tried not to show it.

  “I see. It certainly sounds very good. I have a few trifling matters to take care of. I’ll return in a moment to talk more with you.” I made a speedy exit.

  Deep breath. Othai continued to look wooden.

  I trudged over to Truso. He was still looking very much himself, which is a shame. I would have preferred something less nakedly threatening.

  We probably took just one possible route to this point in the story. There were no doubt other routes we could have gone down, other than the river battle. I think it was supposed to slip me into Pastet’s camp or something. God knows Truso hadn’t done anything to endear himself to me. But there was still that other map. This wasn’t the last mission. This was just the prelude to it.

  “Any little jobs that need doing?” I asked.

  “No. Got a big job for you though. If you are interested and willing to invest.” He gave me a business smile. It was the most believable smile I had seen all day. I would have believed it, if I hadn’t seen the void in him before. It was a mask. It was all a mask.

  “I’m not afraid of a targeted investment. What do you have in mind?”

  “Direct rule of Verton by Genuda. Hire my troops, Hell, hire me, and conquer the city.”

  “I feel like that would violate… so many treaties. Or at least one major one. And wouldn’t all your neighbors jump on you if you did annex the city?”

  “Well, obviously we wouldn’t call it that. They’d still be independent on the surface.” Truso was alarmingly matter of fact about it all. “We declare that rebels have infiltrated the city, elements are conspiring to attack Genuda troops, City Government is colluding with outside forces, that sort of thing. We will report atrocities, supported by sworn eye-witness testimonies and artist reconstruction. Then we ban the circulation of the pictures as too shocking and depraved, while making sure lots and lots of copies get made and illegally sold.”

  I had to smile at that one. An absolute classic.

  “As for the foreign situation, we install a puppet mayor. It wouldn’t be the first time we did that. Or the fifth. We just need to clean up the city a bit first. Make sure our little mouthpiece doesn’t get sudden delusions of independence.”

  “Ah. And presumably shutting up the merchants would have to be part of that.”

  “More like fining them to within an inch of their life. Pastet has been useful, but I know for a fact he’s plotting all kinds of subversion.”

  “You would want to break the leading families, of course. Time to promote someone from the second tier. Someone grateful.” I half smiled.

  “Third tier. Commoners. It’s how we will buy off the city. All those properties and goods from the rich burghers will be divvied out to those who fall in line. We’ll take the cream, obviously. But the rest will be used to purchase loyalty.”

  Truso clearly no longer cared about his word choice. I nodded thoughtfully, while screaming internally.

  “And your neighbors will just go along with this?”

  “They have every other time. Especially if we make it fast and clean. Nothing lingering for them to catch onto.”

  Othai was doing a remarkable impression of a fencepost. Body completely rigid, eyes fixed firmly ahead. Not even a micro gesture. Like a vertical example of locked-in syndrome.

  It wasn’t one traitor that killed Genuda. It was everyone. Every single NPC contributed. The game was making it a ‘pick one,’ but that’s not how it went down. What happened was ‘all of the above,’ which resulted in a horrible mess and the people who were actually collaborating with Hosk and Ko’Ras just opened the gates and let the enemies stroll in. As their ships sailed past the collapsed great chain, the cannons silent, and the walls unguarded.

  The city fell. Word got out, one way or the other, of what Genuda tried to do, and the other subjugated cities revolted. The deterrence was gone, so nobody was willing to let these little corrections slide anymore.

  That’s why the Mikas hate traitors so much. It’s not because of a single act of betrayal. It’s a pattern. A cycle of betrayal, cascading through the whole mini-empire Genuda built. Worst of all, the traitors included their own leaders. They might not view it as treason, but then, what traitor does?

  I was missing parts, no doubt about it. But that was the core of it, I’m sure.

  So what the hell can I do about it? Can I break the cycle? Or is this game going to railroad me to the bad end?