"Thanks for shopping at Apocalypse Assortments!"
Arthur felt strange at how rote those words had become as he smiled at the man placing the crocodile corpse on the counter. As the coins fell onto the counter with a clatter, he nodded to the next person in line.
It had been a little over a month since he was murdered at his own retail job. A punk teen with a baseball bat got greedy, and then he found himself in front of a dragon goddess while she offered him a job. However, considering his lack of choice in the matter, offered may not have been the best word.
Next, he found himself shoved into a new world with nothing but a pile of boxes. They were magical boxes, true, but still boxes. Thus forcing him to find his own inventory from scratch in a sewer crawling with crazed and desperate pre-apocalypse scientists.
After which, it became a whirlwind of mutants, rats, and starving survivors, all the while trying to get his footing underneath him.
Not to mention the gangsters.
His eyes fell to the floor at that, and he was glad he couldn’t see the blood stains anymore. It’d been a week since the deed, but he still didn’t feel good about killing a man.
To stop himself from dwelling on that, he turned his attention to see what his employees were doing. Nyssa was by the wall, paintbrush in hand, as he stared at her mural. She’d tied her long hair into a tight ponytail. With one hand, she rubbed at her face, messing up her grey fur and leaving a splotch of paint at the tip of one whisker.
Her rat tail flicked behind her, almost smacking a customer in the leg.
Before the sewer dweller could make a fuss, Augustus let out a squeaking hiss that caused the crowd to stir. His chief of security stood by the door, the massive rat mutant looming over most of those inside.
He met Arthur’s eye and nodded as he tapped his piece of rebar against the wall.
From outside, Theobold poked his head in. His horse-headed security guard clutched the short sword that hung at his waist and looked around. When Augustus squeaked, he threw a salute before he went back to his conversation with the knights, who'd dropped by to visit.
A crash caught his attention, and Arthur held up a hand to the next customer before he looked into the basement. Downstairs, Dr. Muriler, a scientist and giant rat, looked up from his work next to the mutagenic equipment they kept downstairs.
"You alright?" Arthur asked.
He got another squeak, and a paw waved him off. As he watched, Dr. Muriler continued to pull more of the tube apart. Wires sparked and circuitry glowed as his tinkering exposed them to the light. Behind him, someone coughed.
When he looked up, he could see Jemima leaning on the counter with a bloody bag in her hand. She looked far different now than when he’d first seen her. No longer dressed in worn rags, she now wore a comfortable, though faded, t-shirt and jeans.
He couldn’t count her ribs anymore, either.
Arthur grinned at the sight. It was good to know that even with all the weirdness that he was helping people.
"The doc broken it again?"
"Don’t let him hear you say that."
Squeaks and grunts came up from the trapdoor, and he shook his head.
"Welcome to Apocalypse Assortments. How can I help?"
With a swift movement, Jemima dumped the bag on the counter. "Dropping off."
"Of course."
With a finger, he reached into the bag and felt the contents vanish. Cubes of light flew out of the bag and into the box as he swiped away the messages. The crocodiles didn’t give him anything new anymore.
As more gold clattered onto the counter, a new message appeared before him.
Before he could celebrate, he heard a voice yelling from outside.
"I don’t care! We had it!"
Everyone in the store turned to the windows, and Arthur followed suit. A knight stood outside, his armor battered and stained, as he faced off against a red-faced man dressed in clothes similar to Jemima’s.
It’d been the man who yelled, his face red and hands balled into fists.
"I was hunting with my squire as the quest dictates. No one had a claim on the beast." The knight’s tone was calm, though his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
For a moment, Arthur thought the scavenger was going to take a swing. Before he could, George moved through the crowd. Jeff followed suit, his bulk making him stand out. With a whisper into the angry man’s ear, George got him to move away and back towards the sewers.
The knight shook his head before moving towards the horses tied up across the road.
"What was that about?" Arthur asked Jemima.
Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head before answering.
"We’ve had some trouble with people clashing over kills. The knights mostly try to hunt the bigger game, but not always. It’s caused a few problems."
"Any of them bothered Dr. Kunibert?"
He knew the brain-in-a-jar was accepting people into his underground shelter. He’d made the declaration that he was ending his experiments and that anyone who wanted to could join him. So far, he'd kept his promise. The dwellers even did a small amount of trading with him.
Arthur assumed the entire thing was a ploy to get Nyssa to speak to him once more. But she’d shown no interest in doing so. Thus, he hadn’t gone down to see what they offered either.
After buying a bottle of water, Jemima left, and Arthur fell back into the routine he remembered before he died. Smile, serve, and sit around. During the lull, his eyes fell on a piece of paper that stuck out from beneath it.
With a small tug, he freed it and read the words for what felt like the thousandth time.
To the CEO of Apocalypse Assortments,
We have taken note of your aspiring business interests and would be interested in speaking to you about such. Provided our information proves your net worth is in the expected ranges.
To join a group like ours requires the right financial acumen.
I’m sure you understand.
We will watch with interest. Don’t call us, we’ll call you.
A Iocus Daemonium.
The words made no more sense than the first time he’d read them. What tests would they even do? How? Was it some kind of hidden threat? At least when Riccardo bullied him, he was upfront about it.
Plus, the statement about the expected ranges of his net worth. He knew finances weren’t what one would consider amazing, but it was actual gold. So he figured it must be worth something. Though he knew he could do with more.
The goddess would want him to grow, and he didn’t particularly want to see what happened if he didn’t.
As he puzzled it over, he listened to the few conversations going around. Some knights were standing together, water in hand, as they chatted. He listened in with half an ear, curious about any rumors he might glean.
However, it wasn’t information they discussed, but food.
"My mom is the best cook," one of them bragged. He was skinny, wearing a simple tunic and a sword belt.
Another one scoffed. This one wore a breastplate and carried a helmet under his arm. "Not as good as mine. Pity this place has nothing that fancy."
"Agreed."
Arthur said nothing as he continued to fiddle with the note in his hand. They were right. While the box could cook their food, it wasn’t like it could make it interesting. He knew everyone would probably appreciate new items on the menu at this point.
"How do I get access to the supplies, though?" He pondered this for a minute before the idea hit him like a truck.
"The farms!"
His outburst startled Nyssa, and everyone else turned to stare at him. He was glad that there were only a few people in the room. With a cough, he slumped against the counter and wished he had a chair to slink into.
However, now the idea was in his head. He couldn’t let it go. A supply line linking them with the farmers was exactly what they needed. Riccardo had shown him they could produce potatoes at minimum, and he’d proved his duplication trick.
Together, they could change the food situation in the city entirely.
All he needed to do was get there.
***
“I think we should go see the farmers.”
He’d waited until the store emptied to make his declaration. All of his employees looked at him, and he tried not to shift under the attention. Nyssa was the first to raise a hand.
“Who is going?”
He stopped to think about that for a moment, but there was only one obvious choice in his mind—Theobold. Strong, fast, and It also helped that he was the best suited for pulling the rickshaw after George and Jeff had modified it. They’d gotten access to tools from Dr. Kunibert and replaced the axle and both the seat and pedals.
Now Theobold could sit and push comfortably. He’d tested it thoroughly, riding it up and down the street. The speed he could get was impressive, which made Arthur comfortable with the knowledge they could flee if needed.
"Theobold, seeing as we’re taking the rickshaw. That should be enough."
Augustus squeaked at that and pointed at himself.
"No, you’re staying here. Nyssa is running the front counter, and someone needs to stay to help keep an eye on everything. We don’t know what the remnants of Riccardo’s old gang are up to."
The last he’d heard of them was that they’d spread out over the city. Clusters of them were fighting each other and everyone else. Leo was at the head of the biggest one, though it was all hearsay. Rumors from the knights on patrol around the pit.
His chief of security seemed mollified by that, and so he continued. "If you’re ok with that, Nyssa?"
"That’s fine." She nodded. "Dad will keep me company as well."
Dr. Muriler squeaked.
"Excellent.
"When are we going, boss?" Theobold asked.
Nyssa giggled. He didn’t understand why it amused her so much when Theobald called him that. But she’d been laughing every time.
"Tomorrow morning," he decided. "Best to go during the day. Don’t want them to think we’re sneaking up on them."
"Also, I don’t want to fight anything that may roam around in the dark." Arthur kept that thought to himself. He knew what Theobold was like at the idea of combat. His security guard enjoyed it far more than he should, though his new form aided him spectacularly with it.
"Yes, boss!" The chorus of voices and squeaks filled the room at his words.
Nyssa looked as amused as Theobold did, while Augustus snapped off a salute. Dr. Muriler moved towards the basement and vanished through the trapdoor. Back to work, no doubt. The sight made Arthur wonder if he ever slept.
With plans set, Arthur followed Theobold into the back rooms. While the horse mutant crashed out in the room's corner, he moved into the office. He eyed the couch that now acted as his bed and sighed.
It was fine, and it worked. Still, he wished for something better. Not that they had room for anything larger than it was. He ideally imagined spending a perk point to get more rooms, as he took off his hat and unbuttoned his shirt.
Once he got this supply line up and running, he wanted to believe the levels would follow. After all, if they were willing to spend gold on rat meat, how much would they spend on actual food?
Arthur yawned and fell asleep, the sound of coins clattering onto the counter filling his dreams.298Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjVcQw8BRJs
