Chapter 34: Bob’s Big Boys

Chapter 34: Bob’s Big Boys

“Are you certain about this?” Mr. Yu asked with his arms still crossed. “Don’t think for a second that my having a black mark means you’re going to get any special treatment from me.”

“No, Sir,” I replied. “I want this.”

He nodded. “Very well. Come back at first light tomorrow morning and I’ll test you. If, and I emphasize if, you pass we can work out the terms of your contract.”

“There’s a test?” I asked. “But the guild didn’t…”

Mr. Yu laughed so hard that he started choking. “You passed on their deal. Things work differently here in the trenches. Here we work for a living. If you want me to teach you, you’re going to have to prove to me that you have value.”

“But I have to work for Mr. Aires during the breakfast rush,” I said, wondering how I was going to manage my schedule. “If I don’t she’ll stop providing food for the orphanage.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That would be unfortunate. I suppose I can make an allowance for that. Tell me, do you have any other prior commitments I should know about?”

Was survival a prior commitment? I wasn’t about to stop finding ways to help the orphans live a better life. Or Grace for that matter, not that Mr. Yu had to know about any of that.

“I also owe some work to Miss Spencer. She repaired my clothes, so I owe her,” I explained. “That’s pretty much it. I was going to go see her after I leave here today.”

“I see,” he replied with a nod. “Mary Lou is a stubborn one. She insists on having her shop out in town so she can service the peasants.”

They both stared at me when I couldn’t help but laugh. Dolores waited for me to stop before asking, “What is it? What’s so funny?”

I snorted. “Don’t you see the irony? On the one hand, you talk about your black marks and being outcast by the guild, then you go calling non-magic folk peasants and excluding them the same way.”

“That...is for their own safety,” Mr. Yu said, speaking slowly as if tasting every word. “They don’t understand magic and we would just have to wipe their memory again when they try to form a mob. It’s tricky. Miss Spencer has the luxury of working with clothing, a thing everybody uses and hardly anybody pays much attention to. Dolores and I are seen differently by them. Her potions are often considered witchcraft when people can’t find scientific reasons for how they work. As for Tinkerers, we are considered eccentric at best and madmen more often than not. While I don’t hold anything against her, Mary Lou has ostracized herself from the rest of us by choosing to do her work in the peasant world. Perhaps you can convince her to move her shop down here to the market.”

“I don’t know,” I hesitated. “I think it’s noble of her to help people out where she can. The peasants, as you call them, are going through a lot right now. Between the flu and how everyone is struggling to find work, they can use all the help they can get. I doubt they’ll consider you a madman if you help them.”

Mr. Yu stiffened. “Unfortunately, that isn’t something I can do right now. I’ll tell you what. If you’re serious about this, come see me tomorrow immediately after finishing with Mishun, and bring breakfast.”

They shooed me off after that as they began to aggressively haggle over the artifact. While I wanted to see what kind of deal they came up with, it was getting late, and I hadn’t seen Miss Spencer in a while.

She was busy with a customer when I arrived, altering a dress on a young woman standing in front of a mirror.

“Good afternoon, Oliver,” she greeted me when the bells on the door announced my arrival. “Please wait in the back and I’ll be with you shortly.”

“Would you like some help?” I asked, looking at the woman in the dress hopefully.

She gasped as she either Miss Spencer stuck her with a needle or she noticed me. I guessed it was the latter.

“I said wait in the back,” Miss Spencer scolded me.

I did as I was told and made my way to the tiny room she called an office. Since I had some time, I decided to take out the dragon skull and look at it. It looked right back at me, clacking its jaw a few times for good measure.

“Hmm, what can I make with you?” I asked, turning it over in my hands.

It clacked a few more times, possibly trying to tell me.

“Okay,” I began. “How about this? One clack for yes and two for no. Do you want to be a hammer?”

Two clacks meant no.

“Screwdriver?”

No.

“Saw? You can cut stuff with your teeth, right?’

No. Yes. No. It clacked so fast it sounded like Morse code.

“Hm, do you want to be a tool at all?”

No.

Deciding on a different tact, I Analyzed it again, thinking specifically about what the best use for it would be.

Draconic Effigy

Magic Relic

Grade: S

Condition: 100

Owner: Unbound

Info: Focus item. Once this relic claims an owner, it can be used to create a magic tool or weapon to enhance the wielder’s mana. This relic prefers to bestow draconic enhancements.

So, it didn’t want to be a tool. “Do you want to be a weapon?”

Two clacks. No.

Info: Tools can take a variety of forms.

Again, I was stumped. Before I had a chance to think too deeply, Miss Spencer walked into the tiny room. “Whatcha got there?”

I held it up. “It’s a relic.”

She nodded appreciatively. “That’s fancy. Now, put it away so we can get started. It’s getting late.”

Miss Spencer got right to work continuing my sewing lessons. Instead of using the big sewing machine, she handed me a needle and thread and put me to work hand-stitching an old pair of pants that had quite a few holes.

While I worked, she showed me some other designs and took notes when I Analyzed them. Inevitably, I made mistakes while trying to do two things at once.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Miss Spencer waved me off as she took notes on possible ways of adding a ruffled sash to her latest design. “Those pants are trash. Focus on learning the technique and I’ll give you some more so you can practice later at home.”

“Why do we have to do both at once?” I asked, not understanding the urgency.

She smiled serenely. “Come earlier and we can take our time.”

I sighed, telling her all about my arrangement with Mr. Yu and his offer for her to set up shop at the market.

She frowned, putting away the dress and taking out a frock. “I refuse to be around those people. That’s the true reason I set up shop in the city. Seeing the common folk is a bonus though, I must admit.”

“You too?” I asked, setting the pants down. “I don’t think it’s right to shun people just because they have a black mark. You need to get over…”

“I have a black mark,” she replied with a smug look on her face, stopping me in my tracks. “The people I can’t stand to be around are the guilds. I’m much happier out here than in that stuffy market. Tell Chen to come set up shop here. I know the lot owner. I can get him a great price on the rent.”

I couldn’t help it and threw my head back in laughter. She stared at me before asking. “What’s so funny?”

“I just realized nearly all my friends have black marks. I think I’m a magnet for them,” I replied, still guffawing at the revelation. “Did you know Leslie has one too?”

Miss Spencer’s expression turned serious. “Yes, I am aware of that. However, you shouldn’t make light of it like it’s nothing. In fact, you shouldn’t mention it at all. She’s sensitive about it.”

“I know,” I replied. “One of the adventuring groups gave her a lecture about it the other day. The good news is, I think they invited her to join them afterward.”

“Did they?” She asked. “I hope they weren’t doing that just to bully her.”

“Would they do that?” I asked, wondering if there was anything I could do if they were.

Miss Spencer sat across from me. “Well, the truth of the matter is that the blacklist exists to keep undesirables out of the organizations within the guild. However, an unfortunate side effect is that some unscrupulous people use it as a means to bully the weak. I do my best to look after Leslie by giving her whatever she needs for free. She’s such a sweet girl. I’m glad she found a good friend like you.”

“I’m worried she’s being bullied,” I said. “Have you seen her in the last few days?”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t,” Miss Spencer replied, looking worried. “Don’t you meet up with her every morning?”

“No!” I exclaimed. “Not since she joined that group.”

Before she had a chance to reply, I was on my feet and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“To the guild,” I called over my shoulder, the doors jingling as I opened them. “I’m going to find her.”

“Good luck,” was the last thing I heard before the door closed.

***

As usual, activity at the top of the Chrysler building had died down in the early evening hours. While there were a few groups lumbering about, Leslie was nowhere to be found. Neither was Leila Kirk, the leader of the group she joined.

I walked up to reception and didn’t wait to be greeted. “Excuse me, how do I find a missing person?”

The receptionist didn’t miss a beat and slid a blank form across the table to me. “Fill this out and submit a quest. All rewards must be submitted along with the application.”

“No!” I balked, sliding the form back to her. “Have you seen Leslie, um, Berkshire?”

“Oh, her,” she replied with a shrug. “Can’t say that I have.”

I groaned, stomping off and making my way toward one of the lounges where a group of men sat.

One of them looked up, appraising me before asking, “Can I help you with something, runt?”

“Yes!” I barked, too worked up to be polite. “Have any of you seen Leslie Berkshire?”

The elder of the group was a man in the back with a handlebar mustache and a crop of poorly groomed red hair covered by a black tophat. When he spoke, everyone else shut up. “Does it look like we keep track of women?”

I looked around and soon realized the group was comprised of nothing but men.

“That doesn’t mean you haven’t seen her around,” I replied. “She used to always come here but I haven’t seen her ever since she joined Miss Kirks’s group.”

“Did you hear that, Boss?” One of the boys said. “She’s a Lacky.”

The man chuckled. “It’s a free world. No point in stopping that woman from taking somebody with a mark if that’s what she wants to do.”

“Have you seen her at least?” I asked, exasperated.

He looked up toward the stairwell. “She can usually be found on the third-floor lounge.”

“Thanks,” I called over my shoulder, looking back at the man and wondering who he was.

Bob Konnel

Class: Wrangler

Level: 73

Age: 87

Weight: 185 Lbs

Height 5’9

I’d heard the name before. Was he the leader of Bob’s Big Boys?