The golem zipped off toward the kitchen, leaving me with an empty glass and a gut full of churning self-doubt.

  A minute later, Ajax emerged, looking as smug as ever, though this time, I couldn’t begrudge him for it. His smugness was well earned. The bar was packed to the rafters, the food smelled great, the patrons were happy, and—miracle of miracles—no one was actively trying to murder anyone else. That was a huge success in my books.

  Ajax’s lips split into a toothy grin as soon as he spotted me. “Daniel, darling!” he crowed, practically bounding forward. “Come, come. You have to meet the new hires. You’ll simply die.”

  Before I could protest, he hooked his arm through mine and swept me through the bar and into the kitchen. The smells hit me first—charred beef, garlic butter, something frying in oil that made my stomach growl. Heat rolled off the flat tops in waves, wrapping the room in a shimmering haze. Steam hissed from a pot on the back burner, clouding the air with the sharp tang of tomato and herbs. Plates clattered and pots rattled.

  Inside, Ajax gestured toward a Chinese man working the line. He was stocky and broad-shouldered—a human boulder with arms like pistons. “Daniel, allow me to introduce our new chef!”

  The man straightened, wiping his hands on a towel, and gave me a grin. “So, this is the man, the myth, the legend,” he said, the words rolling out with a rough-around-the-edges French lilt. He extended one hand, thick with calluses and covered in fine scars.

  “Dan,” I said, shaking his hand in return.

  “Hugo,” he replied, “and mon dieu, it is a fuckin’ blessing to be workin’ in a proper kitchen again, eh? Last ten years I been chokin’ down dog food out of tins, every bite like a little murder on my soul. But this”—he jerked a thumb toward the sizzling line behind him, broad shoulders flexing—“this is paradise, mon frère. Smells like home instead of chemical piss.”

  “Were you a cook, before Noclipping?” I asked.

  “Chef,” he corrected with a crooked little smirk. “Born in Guangzhou, raised in Toulouse, learned to burn my fingers at Ecole Ducasse in Paris, eh? Spent ten years after that feedin’ Howlers knockoff Chef Boyardee out of dented tins between raids. Canned ravioli, mon frère—it is a crime against humanity.” He clapped his hands together, eyes lighting up. “But no more. Non. Finally, I am back in a real kitchen!”

  “Smells like you’ve already improved the place,” I said, my mouth watering.

  “Eh, just you fuckin’ wait till you taste it,” he replied with a wink. “Like little angels tap-dancing across your tongue. Amanda,” he barked to the other person in the kitchen—a slim, middle-aged woman with a mess of blonde curls. “Bring over that bordelaise, eh? Let him have a taste. See if he doesn’t have an out-of-body experience.”

  “Don’t you snap at me like that, Froggie,” she called over one shoulder, though there was no malice in the words. Even from the brief interaction, it was clear they were close to one another. “I work for him”—she waved at me—“not you.”

  Still, despite her protests, she dipped a spoon into a thick red and brown sauce and offered it to me with a bright smile. “Careful, darlin’, it’s hot.”

  The bordelaise sauce hit with a sucker punch of rich flavor—savory and buttery with accents of red wine, onion, and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. It would be absolutely killer served over a steak or smothered on some mashed potatoes.

  “Sweet baby Jesus,” I said, smacking my lips appreciatively.

  Ajax beamed. “It’s perfect, right? Tell me it’s perfect.” He slung a hand across the woman’s shoulder.

  She promptly shrugged it off and brandished a knife at him. “Don’t get handsy with me, Ajax, or I’ll do to you what Temperance did to Jackson.”

  Ajax took it in stride, though he did move a few paces away from the woman.

  “Amanda here,” he said, “is Hugo’s wife and sous chef.”

  “Charmed,” she said, batting her eyes at me.

  “Are you from France, too?” I asked.

  Hugo snorted and rolled his eyes. “She’s from fuckin’ Alabama, eh? I doubt she could even find France on a map if you stapled it to her forehead.”

  The woman glared at him, her eyes little more than angry slits. “Don’t think I won’t cut you, just because we’re married.”

  I idly wondered if Amanda and Temperance were friends, because they certainly seemed like kindred spirits.

  “But you are a chef?” I asked.

  “Not like Hugo,” she replied, “with his fancy French cooking. But I sure as shit know my way around a griddle. I worked as a waitress and a line cook for Waffle House for eight years before I wound up in this dump.”

  “Mon amour, she is too humble,” Hugo said while Amanda went back to the saucepan. “True, maybe she can’t point to France on a map, but put a spatula in her hand and she is fuckin’ Mozart. Best breakfast you’ll ever eat. And she has a certain gift for keeping asshole customers in line.”

  The woman snorted. “Well, that much is true, I suppose. Those hooligans out there aren’t half as dangerous as a bunch of Waffle House drunks on a Saturday night.”

  As someone who’d spent many a Saturday night in a Waffle House, working off a raging hangover over a plate of eggs and grits, I had to agree.

  “Like I said, they are just perfect,” Ajax gushed, clasping his hands together. “I still need another shift lead, but I’ve already got my eye on a few of those burly 49ers. Once we bring another cook on staff, we’ll be able to stay open longer—maybe even run around-the-clock service.”

  “That’s great to hear,” I said honestly.

  Ajax preened, straightening his apron. “And that’s not all. I’ve been busy while you were off gallivanting around, playing warlord—”

  “I don’t think that’s exactly how I’d put it,” I grumbled, but Ajax wasn’t listening. He just pushed through without even pausing.

  “—I’ve also hired two attendants for the spa, added three Delvers to work the concession stand and the checkout counters. The staff is still small, but we’re humming along nicely. Schedules are set two weeks in advance, and those two college girls of yours, Taylor and Stephanie, finally have a few days off.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Then his voice dipped, the preening replaced with calculation. “But there are few other issues we should discuss.” His eyes darted toward Hugo and Amanda. “In private.” He stepped aside and gestured for me to follow him into his office.

  “Of course there are,” I muttered.

  Once we were inside, Ajax shut the door and took a seat behind his desk.

  “The first issue isn’t sensitive, but it’s worth bringing up,” he said, launching right into things without so much as a pause. “We need more living quarters. We’re already maxed out as it is. Even doubling up beds, running hot racks, we’re at capacity. And more than a few of the Delvers from the 49th have expressed interest in moving in permanently. We’ve had so many applicants that I’ve had to start a waiting list. Don’t get me wrong, Daniel, it’s a good problem to have—but we’re leaving money on the table.”

  I probably should’ve seen that coming. “I’ll add it to the list of shit to do,” I said. “Just give me a few more days, then I’ll see about tacking on some extra rooms.”

  “Excellent,” Ajax said. “The second issue is a bit more… sensitive.” He leaned forward. “Jackson. Thanks to your ban, he hasn’t been able to get back into the store, but he’s been a busy little bee. Skulking around the Hold, stirring up trouble with what’s left of his fan club. And he still has more than a few supporters, despite the internal coup within the Roomkeepers. I’ve tried to stamp out his budding rebellion, but he is a resourceful shit. And he’s made some new friends.”

  “Aspirants?” I asked, feeling the hairs rise along the back of my neck.

  “Thankfully, he isn’t that desperate—yet,” Ajax replied. “But he has been talking with recruiters from the Black Harbor Syndicate, and from what I understand they want your head on a pike almost as much as the Flayed Monarch. Whatever you’ve been up to has rubbed the Syndicate the wrong way, and there are whispers that the Lord of Coin might be mobilizing. I don’t want to tell you how to run your business, Daniel—you made it crystal clear that you are the boss, and I respect strong leadership—but that could turn into a very real problem if you’re not careful.”

  I wasn’t at all surprised.

  According to the Director, the Franchisor was a close ally with the Lord of Coin—one of the other Sovereigns who ruled the lower floors—so he was bound to be pissed. He had a lot to lose if we actually managed to take the Franchisor out. But having another pissed off Sovereign out for blood wasn’t a headache I needed. Especially if the Lord of Coin decided to throw in with the Flayed Monarch. But there was no stopping this train and nothing I could do about any of that.

  Jackson, on the other hand, was close enough that I could reach out and touch him. And if I gave the word, I had no doubt that Temperance would be only too happy to serve him to me bound and gagged on a silver platter.

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” I said, pushing back from the chair. “But let’s be real, this whole place is a powder keg. Jackson’s a nuisance, but he’s not my priority right now. The Franchisor is. If we take him down, then we’ll have some real leverage to work with. Until then? We’re just bailing water and trying to keep the ship from going under.”

  Ajax folded his hands, long fingers steepled. “As you say, Daniel. Just know—my ears are everywhere. And if Jackson makes his move, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Good,” I muttered. “Last thing I need is that asshole showing up on my doorstep with a Syndicate raiding party in tow. Now, unless you have anything else for me, I’ve got a pillow with my name on it.”

  “Nothing else at the moment,” Ajax purred. The Furry gave me a mock salute as I stepped out, his voice carrying after me. “Sweet dreams, Daniel. Don’t let the Aspirants bite.”

  I didn’t bother answering. I was too tired to trade quips—too drained to think about anything but the scalding hot shower that was calling my name. I said brief goodbyes to both Hugo and Amanda, then slipped out of the Arcade and trudged up to my room.

  After getting cleaned up, I took a few minutes to divvy out all the stat points I’d earned over the past week—all 35 of ’em. I dropped 15 points into Resonance, bringing it up to 162, fervently hoping I’d unlock another threshold ability, but was sadly disappointed. It increased my Mana Optimization to 34%, but I didn’t get any shiny new secondary abilities to add to my arsenal.

  Tough break, though I probably should’ve seen it coming.

  The truth was, I still didn’t really understand how the VIRUS interface worked, or what rules it played by. Hell, I wasn’t even sure there was a secondary threshold. That was just a stab in the dark, based on my gut intuition. Either way, I’d keep dumping in stat points until I found out one way or the other.

  As for the rest of the points, I had a pretty good idea of how to spend them.

  With my new Arcane Exoskeleton in place, I wasn’t nearly as worried about increasing my Toughness, so I decided to divvy up the remaining twenty points between Grit, Perception, Athleticism, and Preservation—dropping five into each. I still had a ways to go before any of my other core stats crossed over the first 75 point threshold, but little by little I was making progress.

  I also had my titles to consider.

  My new Pearl Jammer title was excellent, but since I didn’t intend to pay another visit to the Loot Arcade anytime soon, I decided to leave it unequipped. I also opted to swap out my newly upgraded Serial Killer In-Training title for Overkill Overlord, feeling a small wave of relief as I made the switch. But there was still more work to be done.

  Like Relics, titles with enough overlapping synergy could be mashed together to make something new and even better than the sum of their parts.

  Currently, I had Dogfighter active, increasing evasiveness while airborne, but I had two other aerial-based titles, just sitting there waiting to be used. You Can’t Outrun the Sky decreased fall damage, but came with an unfortunate side effect—I’d draw aggro from all flying Dwellers like flies to shit. The downside wasn’t worth it, but if I combined Dogfighter and You Can’t Outrun the Sky with another title I’d earned called Human Cannonball, I might be able to forge them into something worthwhile.

  I selected the three and ran an Analysis, giving me a glimpse at the combined effect.

  The new title was called Death from Above, and it would increase the damage of all spells cast while airborne by 25% and reduce all impact damage by 90% whenever I decided to use my body as a projectile weapon. It was hard to see a scenario where something like that would be useful, but the added spell damage was worth it.

  A prompt asked if I wanted to proceed, and I selected “Yes,” merging the three together before equipping the new title. I took one final look at my updated SBR before exiting the screen and pulling my hand from the monolith touchpad.

  Dan Woodridge

  Specimen Biotag ID #03A-01-B00R7T569C

  Variant Assimilation Level: 62

  Race: Human, Archetypal

  Current Experience: 832,250

  Next Level: 874,000

  Personal Enhancement Points: 0

  __ __ __

  Health: 221

  Health-Regen/Hour: 17.85

  __ __ __

  Stamina Reserve: 131

  Stamina-Regen/Minute: 13.25

  __ __ __

  Mana Pool: 374

  Mana-Regen/Minute: 35.5

  Individual Adaptative Stats

  Grit: 98 (89 + 9 Enhanced)

  Athleticism: 43

  Toughness: 45

  Perception: 57

  Resonance: 162 (155 + 7 Enhanced)

  Preservation: 26

  Spatial Core - Active

  (R) Runic Glyph Array – Level 15

  (F) Hydro Fracking Blast – Level 15

  (F) Hydrokinesis (Fully Tempered) – Level 15

  (F) Frostfang Spire – Level 5 (Fully Tempered)

  (F) Eldritch Taxidermist – Level 15 (Fully Tempered)

  (F) Echoed Aura – Level 5 (Fully Tempered)

  (F) Neural Slipstream – Level 12 (Fully Tempered)

  (F) StainSlayer Maelstrom – Level 10 (Fully Tempered)

  (F) Psychic Sovereignty – Level 10 (Fully Tempered)

  (ME) Compass of the Catacomber (Fully Tempered)

  !!! Current Titles – Passive !!!

  Punch-Out!! Champion, Marked for Death, Legend in the Making, Overkill Overlord, Great White in a Barrel (E), Profane Purifier, Domino Rally, Kaiju Slayer, Death from Above, HR Horror Show