ZEN - Part Two [COMPLETED] [#WATTYS2017]

Where To Start?

"Not a word since we left. And her parting to me was just 'Go'."

The human male allows a heavy sigh to escape as he eases himself down into a spot that would allow him to most-easily survey the entire lounge with his one good eye. "So, uh... you were tracking me, huh?"

"Failing, mostly. Spent a fecking fortune trying to."

"Yeah. Same. All of our money goes to buying information from some rather shady people."

"I went through the Adventurers' Guild. And recently the Merchants."

"Huh? The Merchant's Guild doesn't take requests."

"They do when you're feckin' rich."

Gerald blinks twice, then glances around the stately apartment before realization finally dawns on him. "Wait... you own this place?!"

"Feckin' idiot." Carson snorts out a noise of derision as he flops down onto the opposite end of the sofa from his long-time companion. "They literally just told you they built five hotels."

"Y-yeah, but... I thought they were just working as craftsmen. Or... crafts-women? Would that be the proper term?"

"Sexist prick." The short Cat-woman flashes a wicked smile towards her sibling. "But, yeah. If you were trying to impress someone. But no-one in this hotel, or our others, would fall for it. Or you. Ugly bastard."

"Okay, I get it. I'm no longer handsome."

"You look like a homeless wanderer."

"I am a homeless wanderer."

"Then your appearance suits you." Zen snickers at the way her brother glowers and is unable to offer a retort. "But, because of my Goddess-like generosity, I'll grant you a suitable tithe. As long as you refer to me as 'My Emporer'."

"Feck you, Mizuki. Jus' 'cause you got a little lucky, or somethin'..."

"Not a little. A lot."

"How much's a lot?"

"Commanding more wealth than this country?"

The former vanguard holds his breath for a few moments, then hurries to check the expressions on the teenagers. Since each of them were just smiling as usual, he decides he was just being played for a fool. "Hmph. Yeah, right."

"Mish? How much do we command?"

"Oh... about three hundred thousand white-gold, along with two hundred priceless works of art and a hundred or so sculptures and reliefs made by true masters of their crafts. And a hundred and eighty slaves."

Gerald blinks twice, and again convinces himself that he was being lied to. "Y-you all must think I'm a world-class idiot. Tryin' t' make me believe that."

Zen leans a little to the side in order to access her enchanted hip-pouch, then withdraws a large, heavy burlap sack and spills the contents across the central, low-slung table.

"Gods damned."

The large human gapes at the sight of the obvious mass of a thousand white-gold coins softly glittering in the available lamp-light. Once, when he was nine, his father showed him a coin made of the exact same precious metals... and he'd been enthralled. But, to see so many littered across a table... it made that wonderous moment in his life worthless in comparison.