Trial Difficulty: 3 Stars

  Southern Reaches of the Kingdom of Astaria

  NorthWind Academy: Easternmost Quadrant

  Mage Tower Residence: The Professor of Subhuman Anthropology

  “So, you see I’ve been doing this thing recently, where instead of coming up with the images and aspects all by myself, I try to let the “patronly ideal in question” guide me as much as is, well… as much as is reasonable I suppose—let’s not get too carried away, right? I still have some standards to uphold. Often the result is my being led in totally unexpected directions.”

  Jun said this from his perch atop the ancient professors large mahogany desk—the professor in question as stoic and silent as ever.

  “And wouldn’t you know it? The old farts running the cosmos aren’t nearly as constrained as I’d first assumed them to be. I mean, it’s still effectively like pulling teeth, but there most definitely are ways. You just need to know which buttons to press and when to press them. Nothing new there, am I right?”

  The old man, as was generally his way, said nothing. He merely sat there at his desk, luxuriously long and masterfully maintained wizardly white beard on full display. Well, mostly white, at any rate.

  “Oddly enough, I got the idea from a less than reputable source. See, there's this… oh, I suppose you could call it an unfortunate incarnation of mine? A real character that one, let me tell ya. Some yellow eyed wack-job one card shy of a full deck—don’t ask, I’d really rather not get into it.

  “Not all there, if you catch my meaning. Nutty as a fruitcake? Stark raving mad would be one way to put it. A constant weight on my peace of mind and general well-being another. Actually it’s precisely because of my trouble double’s general air of not-all-there’dness that such an approach even registered as being plausible.”

  Jun reached forward and grabbed what was left of the storied professor’s wizardly chin, bobbing his head up and down in mute understanding.

  “Sort of a eureka moment. Like, if this bumbling buffoon can do it, then I’m probably making things a great deal harder for myself than they need to be. Since then the actual results of my labors have been pretty out there in terms of effect. Things I would’ve never even thought to think of, you know?

  “Like there’s this one mantra. The concept’s whole shtick is that it deals with axes and the like, right? But instead of being all “chop chop chop,” its all “mind over matter,” “a test of willpower,” “overcoming long odds,” that sort of thing. What in the world that has to do with axes? I haven’t the faintest clue. Honestly, you’re guess is probably as good as mine.”

  “Uhh… sir?”

  “Yes Felix?”

  “I believe that man is dead, sir.”

  Jun paused, giving the elderly man a quick once over, noting the fist sized hole that’d been punched through his left eye socket—and leather chair back besides—which itself revealed the splattered gray wallpaper beyond

  “Ah. So he is Felix. So he is. Good eye.”

  “Thank you sir. On that note, I’ve come to report that we’re just about ready to depart.”

  “And the children?”

  “Those that could be saved have already been transported. The others have been put to rest and are awaiting burial back at camp.”

  Jun sighed at the sorrowful news, giving the twisted professor one last lingering glance before he was forced to face the leader of this particularly grim operation.

  “Seriously though, using halfblooded children to further your experiments? Dick move, guy. Super not okay.”

  Giving the late professor’s armrest one last kick in farewell—spinning him around in his chair before unceremoniously dumping his lifeless corpse onto the blood slick floor—Jun hopped from the desk and made his way over toward where the rest of the team were waiting.

  Stepping over the ruined remains of the once austere and orderly domicile, he commented idly…

  “Hey. So about that thing I mentioned?”

  The cloven hoofed satyr paused briefly, no doubt dragging his mind from whatever horrors he’d been made to witness.

  “Ah- Y-yes. I cannot promise anything, of course, but I intend to include your many selfless acts in my next report. Secure in your unwavering loyalty to the cause, I suspect my superiors will be more than willing to consider a trade. Though I must warn you that much will depend on how strong the arcana in question turns out to be.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Oh, I don’t think they’ll need to worry about that. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say they won’t find its like anywhere else in this galaxy.”

  “Sir, you don’t know how great of a thing that is to hear.”

  “Any time. Say, speaking of powerful artifacts, you wouldn’t still happen to have that old geezer’s magic rod on hand, would you?”

  Without a word, the satyr slipped the slim rod from a holster made for just such a purpose, and handed it over, palms up, as if it were a highly venomous creature.

  Looking out over the school’s expansive campus through the gaping hole this very wand had punched through the side of the tower only minutes prior, he couldn’t really say the almost reverence he showed the artifact was entirely out of place.

  “So much power held in so small a vessel…”

  It was a fascinating revelation. No doubt about that. With a thought, Jun disappeared the magical artifact into his interspatial ring.

  “Let’s see if we can’t make a deal then shall we?”

  Trial Difficulty: 4 Stars

  Satellite City: Unregistered Sector

  Unsung Mercers Guild Territory: Warrens of the Under City

  Mama O’Pines Bustling Bazar of Clips, Cuisine, & Wide-eyed Curios

  It wasn’t much to look at really.

  A simple counter with simple stools under a grease stained cloth awning—paper lanterns hung to either side. The red canvas itself a kind of curtain you had to duck under to enter. Once “inside,” and having taken a seat, you either had the option to relax, chat, or else watch the sweaty android on the other end of the flimsy bar cook up your order in full view of everyone.

  Presently, said audience included Jun and one other cybernetic patron, pumped so full of intrusive mods it was a wonder he still had a taste for biofuel at all.

  “A noodle shop.”

  That is correct.

  “As our probationary vp of sales.”

  That is what I propose, yes. To be revisited upon our combined satisfaction with its annual performance.

  “Just to make sure we’re both completely on the same page here, this is what you had me spend nearly a trillion credits on becoming majority shareholder of? A noodle shop?”

  Correct.

  Behind the potbellied android and its steaming pan of heavenly smelling spices, a holo ad promotion rolled in the background.

  “With the recent advances in quantum technology, it’s become easier than ever for your friends over at Uncle Foo’s Noodle Emporium? to serve what you most desire in every conceivable timeline!”

  “And you’re sure you’re not mistaken? Because, the way things are going, I’m starting to have serious doubts about all of our so called executives.”

  Please. Don’t start..

  “Try our promotional special today! ‘Spicy Tan Tan Ramen with Synthetic Pork Dumplings Dipped in Garlic Sauce.’ Buy two orders, get one plate of dumplings free! Available now only for a limited time!”

  “Like, instead of having the prince of an entire twice damned principality be our COO, why not let a cart full of melons do the job? Or even this guy right here! I mean, why the hell not, right?! Hey buddy? You looking for a job? Cause boy do I have some good news for you! The opportunity of a lifetime pal! Don’t blink or you’ll miss it!”

  You are being exceedingly childish.

  “Oh am I!? Am I really? And here I’d thought I was being “realistic.” Realistic. You know? Like when I asked you to find me the best possible candidate for this most important of positions, and you “sensibly” directed me to this out of the way, poorly maintained, sorry excuse for a-!”

  “Promotion expires: 12/09/2140. Promotion valid in all but three of our nearly two hundred eighty-eight thousand corporately owned locations. Contact a customer service representative today to see if this promotion applies to a location near you.”

  “Wait. H-how many locations did that say? Two hundred thousand? But that- that’s kind of like a lot right? Like with five o’s and everything?”

  That isn’t even the half of it.

  “What do you mean?”

  Not only are they prolific in scope, but the shopkeeper itself is, in effect, the same person spread out across nearly every single location. Something to do with quantum entanglement, I’m made to believe. A quirk of quantum mechanics which not only has the effect of lowering the general cost of employment, but also assures the quality of service across each and every location. In addition, my research suggests that it should be possible to greatly improve said quantum intelligence to better make use of its powers of reasoning, and accentuate its nose for a good deal.

  There was an awkward silence then, only broken by the drone of holo ad’s and the incessant slurping of their neighbor.

  “Ah. Well. It seems like you’ve really thought this through.”

  Extensively.

  “And… would that make this android here our prospective employee? The one I’ve been ranting in front of for the last half hour?”

  As much as it would please me to say otherwise, unfortunately, it is not. This is one of three privately owned locations only marginally affiliated with the corporate branding. I anticipated that you’re reaction to my proposal would not be positive, and so did not wish for the first impression you made on this quantum intelligence to be a poor one.

  Jun couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

  “Thanks for that…”

  You needn’t mention it.

  Another awkward pause.

  “Right! So, when do you think I’ll get to meet this quantumly entangled soup slinger of yours?”

  Charting the route on you’re internal gps now.

  “Awesome! Perfect. Say…? About what I said earlier… you know I really didn’t mean any of it right?”

  Silence.

  “Hello…?”

  Continue straight for 200 meters, then turn left at the next intersection.

  “Yeah, I… you know what? I probably deserved that.”