“Back again?” the shop owner asked, once again in his nasally voice. The hood was off, the baldness on display. “Travolta still smoking?”
“Yeah,” John responded.
“Door is still keyed into the correct room, you can just go back downstairs,” the fellow nerd informed him.
“Actually, I’ve been banished. Father daughter stuff. Travolta will let me know when I can go back in.”
“Ah. Worried old men trying to understand young girls in love. Those are the most annoying conversations that can be had. I guarantee neither of them is having fun right now.”
“Are you… speaking from experience?” John wondered. The shop owner made a wide gesture at the large display of mangas along the wall, many of them of the female oriented variety. “Ah.” John made a semi-understanding sound. He would take the opinion of the shop owner on the matter at half value. “Great shop you have here.”
“Thank you. The façade is uninviting, but that’s how it is supposed to be.” Carl puffed up a bit. “Easier to get the aversion enchantments running if the interest in the shop is low to start with.”
‘Probably why Regan’s house is grey top to bottom too,’ John thought. Just because he had nothing better to do, he threw an Observe at the shopkeeper. The text above the head of people was gradually disappearing, John found. It was probably a tutorial crutch or something.
Level 15, not particularly impressive. ‘How quickly that impression changed,’ the Gamer caught himself. He had almost gotten a stroke when he had first seen Moira’s level. How many weeks until he was stronger than Regan? This whole Lateblooming thing meant that his powers had much greater potential and growth than most others.
“Did you just use spying magic?” Carl asked. Startled by the question, John looked up. “You develop a knack for such things over time. Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Thank you?” John wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He decided to change the topic. “Anyways, so the actual purpose of this shop is being an Auction outpost… and you still keep things neat here?”
“You could call it my hobby. Regan takes over most of the business contacts, I just make sure this place keeps on running. Most of the services are automated.” He grinned a little bit. “Working for the Auction is a way to stay out of trouble, Gamer. I recommend it. No one wants to kill or enslave the person that works for the slave market.”
John’s stomach knotted up at that revelation. He hadn’t browsed the Abyss Auction extensively yet. You could buy people on the site? Kidnapped individuals on sale on the internet, a fact casually displayed in conversation? “That’s vile,” he stated.
Carl shrugged. “Definitely, but what am I going to do about it? No, I’m content just seeing interesting people come in and go out. Like you, John Newman. Latebloomers are an exceptionally rare sight.”
“Lots of people are taking interest in me…”
“Because the intel about you is fresh and cheap. You’re broadly interesting and will remain so for as long as new info keeps flowing.” Carl shrugged. “Again, Latebloomers are rare. There’s typically only a few dozen in a generation and most of them get picked off before their powers mature. There are eyes on you. Important eyes. Everyone is wondering if you’ll stabilize.”
John shuddered and turned to the window. Was the information broker around right this second? Was the file on him still getting expanded? “I don’t like this.”
“Few people get put into situations they like in the Abyss.”
“Wonder who put me in this situation though…?” John mumbled, giving Carl a pleading glance. The shop owner recognized his intent to coax some details regarding the information broker out of him. With a neutral smile, Carl let silence spread.
The door opened. John half turned, expecting to see Travolta. Instead, a woman entered. Her black hair was bound into a ponytail. Her face was on the roundish side and had a certain maturity to it, despite her being not that much older than John. Under an open leather jacket, a pair of decently large tits stretched the fabric of her Iron Maiden shirt. Leather pants and heavy boots rounded out her look. She was either a goth or a rocker chick. The large guitar case over her shoulder pointed towards the latter.
More important was the question of which exact cup size she had.
D it was. The more baffling revelation however was that she had never experienced the D. A tasteless joke, John admitted to himself, but she looked like one of those girls out of ‘Buy a Russian Wife’ commercials. How was she still a virgin? It was that moment that made John think of his harem aspirations. Rave had shown joking interest in a threesome before, maybe there was some hope here?
“Why are you staring at me so much?” the woman, Victoria, asked. Her voice betrayed only a hint of an accent. Russian? John had no idea, the only Russian accents he knew were from game dubs. It only said she was of Slavic descent and the Soviet Union had encompassed a lot of Slavic countries. He had to answer a question first though.
“Sorry, just expected somebody else.”
Victoria gave him an annoyed glare, green eyes filled with disapproval. She walked past him. The length of her jacket sadly denied him a look of her butt. That was always the second most interesting part in a woman’s body to him. First was the face.
“I hear you sell bullets?” she asked Carl. That question in combination with her title made John guess that the guitar case wasn’t really a guitar case. As unfamiliar as he was with the Abyss, hiding weapons in guitar cases was a staple of movies and there was no reason reality couldn’t copy fiction.
That confirmed it.
“We sell everything. We are the Abyss Auction after all. You will find a terminal in the backrooms that will give you access to our site with the special ‘bought locally’ discount.” Carl answered in his nasal tone.
Victoria nodded and turned around. “Come with me, Gamer.”
John stared at her. For a few seconds, he was undecided. Naivety and attraction were fighting common sense. ‘She wouldn’t try anything with Travolta by the door, inside an AA outpost,’ he reasoned to himself. Together, in silence, they walked to the backroom. “So, you bought information about me off the Auction too?”
“Yes. Before you ask, I have no idea who the informant is, only that the person is getting rich off you.” The answer was swift.
John sighed, being wise to that much. The ‘John Newman, LATEBLOOMER’-Information bundle sold for two thousand dollars at the entry level. He had purchased it as well at this point (actually, Rave had) and the amount of stuff known about him was staggering. Name, address, daily schedule, even that he was in a relationship was out there, although it seemed that Regan had protected Rave from being mentioned by name.
The only two things John knew about this information broker however were that he was going to his school and that he had personally met with the Rockers, all of whom died so that lead was dead in the sand. Neither of these two things were facts, just fairly certain deductions.
He would need to find some way to shut the person out of his life at some point or another. The only way he found to do that was to use Create I.D. like crazy. His ability to generate Loot was still hidden, which indicated that the information broker had not followed them into any Illusion Barrier so far.
“They say you entered the Abyss a mere two weeks ago and yet you already seem stronger than people who spent years training.”
“Yeah, I hear that all the time as well. Seems like I got lucky.” John answered.
“Lucky, huh? Being outstanding in the Abyss is only a good thing if you are able to protect yourself.” Victoria pushed open the door and walked over to one of the terminals. “Otherwise, you are likely to end up like this.”
Rows upon rows of faces were listed like a selection of articles on any other site. Each person had their own short bio, outlining, at minimum, physical characteristics and sometimes giving a hint of their entire life story. The rest of the details were promised on purchase of the person. Every last one of them had the tag ‘Slave for Sale’. There were a ludicrous amount of pages.
Victoria closed the tab and started to search for ammunition instead. “Collide, that’s your guild, right? Guy outside is your guild master?” The question startled John, after what he had just seen. He just nodded. “Hear you’re under the protection of the Bloodfallen now. Good move, no one should want to get on their bad side.” Victoria clicked on the order button. The machine rattled and only a minute later, a hatch opened. Grabbing her package, Victoria headed back to the door. “I will see you around, Gamer.”
“Yeah? Bye?” John still wasn’t sure what was happening. ‘The Abyss is full of crazy people.’
“Back again?” the shop owner asked, once again in his nasally voice. The hood was off, the baldness on display. “Travolta still smoking?”
“Yeah,” John responded.
“Door is still keyed into the correct room, you can just go back downstairs,” the fellow nerd informed him.
“Actually, I’ve been banished. Father daughter stuff. Travolta will let me know when I can go back in.”
“Ah. Worried old men trying to understand young girls in love. Those are the most annoying conversations that can be had. I guarantee neither of them is having fun right now.”
“Are you… speaking from experience?” John wondered. The shop owner made a wide gesture at the large display of mangas along the wall, many of them of the female oriented variety. “Ah.” John made a semi-understanding sound. He would take the opinion of the shop owner on the matter at half value. “Great shop you have here.”
“Thank you. The façade is uninviting, but that’s how it is supposed to be.” Carl puffed up a bit. “Easier to get the aversion enchantments running if the interest in the shop is low to start with.”
‘Probably why Regan’s house is grey top to bottom too,’ John thought. Just because he had nothing better to do, he threw an Observe at the shopkeeper. The text above the head of people was gradually disappearing, John found. It was probably a tutorial crutch or something.
Level 15, not particularly impressive. ‘How quickly that impression changed,’ the Gamer caught himself. He had almost gotten a stroke when he had first seen Moira’s level. How many weeks until he was stronger than Regan? This whole Lateblooming thing meant that his powers had much greater potential and growth than most others.
“Did you just use spying magic?” Carl asked. Startled by the question, John looked up. “You develop a knack for such things over time. Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Thank you?” John wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He decided to change the topic. “Anyways, so the actual purpose of this shop is being an Auction outpost… and you still keep things neat here?”
“You could call it my hobby. Regan takes over most of the business contacts, I just make sure this place keeps on running. Most of the services are automated.” He grinned a little bit. “Working for the Auction is a way to stay out of trouble, Gamer. I recommend it. No one wants to kill or enslave the person that works for the slave market.”
John’s stomach knotted up at that revelation. He hadn’t browsed the Abyss Auction extensively yet. You could buy people on the site? Kidnapped individuals on sale on the internet, a fact casually displayed in conversation? “That’s vile,” he stated.
Carl shrugged. “Definitely, but what am I going to do about it? No, I’m content just seeing interesting people come in and go out. Like you, John Newman. Latebloomers are an exceptionally rare sight.”
“Lots of people are taking interest in me…”
“Because the intel about you is fresh and cheap. You’re broadly interesting and will remain so for as long as new info keeps flowing.” Carl shrugged. “Again, Latebloomers are rare. There’s typically only a few dozen in a generation and most of them get picked off before their powers mature. There are eyes on you. Important eyes. Everyone is wondering if you’ll stabilize.”
John shuddered and turned to the window. Was the information broker around right this second? Was the file on him still getting expanded? “I don’t like this.”
“Few people get put into situations they like in the Abyss.”
“Wonder who put me in this situation though…?” John mumbled, giving Carl a pleading glance. The shop owner recognized his intent to coax some details regarding the information broker out of him. With a neutral smile, Carl let silence spread.
The door opened. John half turned, expecting to see Travolta. Instead, a woman entered. Her black hair was bound into a ponytail. Her face was on the roundish side and had a certain maturity to it, despite her being not that much older than John. Under an open leather jacket, a pair of decently large tits stretched the fabric of her Iron Maiden shirt. Leather pants and heavy boots rounded out her look. She was either a goth or a rocker chick. The large guitar case over her shoulder pointed towards the latter.
More important was the question of which exact cup size she had.
D it was. The more baffling revelation however was that she had never experienced the D. A tasteless joke, John admitted to himself, but she looked like one of those girls out of ‘Buy a Russian Wife’ commercials. How was she still a virgin? It was that moment that made John think of his harem aspirations. Rave had shown joking interest in a threesome before, maybe there was some hope here?
“Why are you staring at me so much?” the woman, Victoria, asked. Her voice betrayed only a hint of an accent. Russian? John had no idea, the only Russian accents he knew were from game dubs. It only said she was of Slavic descent and the Soviet Union had encompassed a lot of Slavic countries. He had to answer a question first though.
“Sorry, just expected somebody else.”
Victoria gave him an annoyed glare, green eyes filled with disapproval. She walked past him. The length of her jacket sadly denied him a look of her butt. That was always the second most interesting part in a woman’s body to him. First was the face.
“I hear you sell bullets?” she asked Carl. That question in combination with her title made John guess that the guitar case wasn’t really a guitar case. As unfamiliar as he was with the Abyss, hiding weapons in guitar cases was a staple of movies and there was no reason reality couldn’t copy fiction.
That confirmed it.
“We sell everything. We are the Abyss Auction after all. You will find a terminal in the backrooms that will give you access to our site with the special ‘bought locally’ discount.” Carl answered in his nasal tone.
Victoria nodded and turned around. “Come with me, Gamer.”
John stared at her. For a few seconds, he was undecided. Naivety and attraction were fighting common sense. ‘She wouldn’t try anything with Travolta by the door, inside an AA outpost,’ he reasoned to himself. Together, in silence, they walked to the backroom. “So, you bought information about me off the Auction too?”
“Yes. Before you ask, I have no idea who the informant is, only that the person is getting rich off you.” The answer was swift.
John sighed, being wise to that much. The ‘John Newman, LATEBLOOMER’-Information bundle sold for two thousand dollars at the entry level. He had purchased it as well at this point (actually, Rave had) and the amount of stuff known about him was staggering. Name, address, daily schedule, even that he was in a relationship was out there, although it seemed that Regan had protected Rave from being mentioned by name.
The only two things John knew about this information broker however were that he was going to his school and that he had personally met with the Rockers, all of whom died so that lead was dead in the sand. Neither of these two things were facts, just fairly certain deductions.
He would need to find some way to shut the person out of his life at some point or another. The only way he found to do that was to use Create I.D. like crazy. His ability to generate Loot was still hidden, which indicated that the information broker had not followed them into any Illusion Barrier so far.
“They say you entered the Abyss a mere two weeks ago and yet you already seem stronger than people who spent years training.”
“Yeah, I hear that all the time as well. Seems like I got lucky.” John answered.
“Lucky, huh? Being outstanding in the Abyss is only a good thing if you are able to protect yourself.” Victoria pushed open the door and walked over to one of the terminals. “Otherwise, you are likely to end up like this.”
Rows upon rows of faces were listed like a selection of articles on any other site. Each person had their own short bio, outlining, at minimum, physical characteristics and sometimes giving a hint of their entire life story. The rest of the details were promised on purchase of the person. Every last one of them had the tag ‘Slave for Sale’. There were a ludicrous amount of pages.
Victoria closed the tab and started to search for ammunition instead. “Collide, that’s your guild, right? Guy outside is your guild master?” The question startled John, after what he had just seen. He just nodded. “Hear you’re under the protection of the Bloodfallen now. Good move, no one should want to get on their bad side.” Victoria clicked on the order button. The machine rattled and only a minute later, a hatch opened. Grabbing her package, Victoria headed back to the door. “I will see you around, Gamer.”
“Yeah? Bye?” John still wasn’t sure what was happening. ‘The Abyss is full of crazy people.’
