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AliNovel > Wish upon the Stars : A Superhero Cultivation LitRPG > Chapter Eight Hundred Thirty One

Chapter Eight Hundred Thirty One

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    I had to borrow some clothes. Removing my mask made me stand out less, but being a baby faced six four behemoth in a thick suit of pitch black plate mail was still really attention grabbing. I snagged a set of…well, kind of old fashioned clothes from Caladwen before leaving, stowing my armor in my ring, and then set out toward the ministry.


    Arriving at the ministry, I queued up for entry, but when I reached the door, I didn’t follow the greeter in to be given a meal or a bed. “Hello, I’m here about the security position,” I told him cheerfully. “I’m…Wayne. Wayne Shyndham.”


    The pause between the beginning of the sentence and my fake name wasn’t long, so the greeter didn’t notice it. I was relieved no one from my group was here, because that was the worst fake name I could have possibly come up with. In my defense, I hadn’t ever needed a fake name outside of my costume, so I hadn’t ever put much thought into it.


    “Welcome!’ Said the pale young man. “You certainly seem like a strapping lad, I’ll take you to see Father Abraham. He’ll be so happy to have another applicant. Security positions are tough to fill around here. Most of those skilled in combat choose to take the wrong path, joining thise unsavory organizations that oppress the common people. Or the city guard, of course, we would never dream of slandering Lady Dezcarta.”


    His tone, still cheerful, made it clear that he definitely WOULD dream of that, and was in fact doing it at this very moment, just in the politest way possible. He chattered casually to me as he escorted me down the corridor that split off from the side of the large hall where the meals were being served.


    After walking for about fifteen minutes, we came to a worn wooden door. The greeter knocked, and a smooth, charismatic voice rang out. “Enter.”


    Pushing the door open, the greeter stuck his head inside. “Father Abraham? We have another security applicant?” He ushered me inside. “This is Mr. Wayne Shyndham, he heard about us from…” he paused. “Sorry, I was so excited I didn’t ask. Who mentioned our job opening?”


    “Ted,” I told him vaguely. “From the shop. And just call me Wayne. Please.” I tried not to sound like I was begging. I really didn’t want them addressing me by my terrible spur of the moment last name. “I’m trained in martial arts. I use a club. I’m not sure if that helps or hurts me, but I wanted to be up front.”


    While something like a spear or sword would be incompatible with my staff art, a club should be mostly fine. I actually HAD used short wooden sticks early in my journey, so I had a bit of familiarity with them.


    Father Abraham chuckled. “An honest man, what a rare commodity. Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the chair across the desk from him. “I assure you, any weapon proficiency is more than expected. All I require is dedication and an open mind. Do you consider yourself open minded, Wayne?”


    Father Abraham was not what I expected. He was tall and intense, with a square jaw and symmetrical, pleasant features. He looked like an honest, upbeat person, with intense amber eyes and a wide grin that invited you to smile along. Despite his clearly cultivated image of reassuring welcome, I felt my Danger Sense tingling slightly. He couldn’t hurt me, but he didn’t have good intentions.


    “I’d say I’m open to new ideas,” I hedged. Contrary to popular opinion, acting like a sycophant wasn’t the best way to gain someone’s trust. People valued things they had to work for. I had enough experience with infiltration to know my best move was to be cautious and let him ‘win me over’.


    This would also allow me to keep my guard up. I triggered my Promethean Fire Soul Body, keeping the outward signs of it suppressed so my eyes didn’t start randomly glowing as I took my seat across from the priest.


    “And cautious too,” he said approvingly. “That’s wise. People who just believe whatever they’re told are wonderful parishioners, but they don’t make good LEADERS. I think you’ve got the makings of a fine leader, Wayne. Would that be interesting to you? I can see you’ve had some fortunate opportunities, and I bet you’re excited for your talents to be recognized.”


    He was talking about my Impact. I hadn’t hid it, mostly because I knew being a cut above everyone else was a good in. Opportunities to boost Impact were RARE, but they existed. The Shoals was a big place, and not having seen every impressive person was natural. Obviously, Abraham was interested in recruiting someone who would always be just a bit better than everyone else.


    Of course, he was also blatantly manipulating me. My great grandmother was a cult leader, so I was pretty familiar with this kind of thing. I’d done more than a bit of research on the kinds of tactics people like him used to recruit.


    Still, it was as good an in as any. I hesitated, but let my face show a hint of eagerness. “You really think so? I mean, I’ve never led anything before. What exactly would you want me to do for this leadership position?”


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    “Nothing strenuous,” he chuckled. “You’ll be responsible for driving off unsavory elements, protecting our parishioners, that sort of thing. Of course, you’ll also need to enforce internal discipline within the security force. Sometimes outsiders can be a bit…obtuse. When those outside the flock don’t understand their role, a good leader knows to remind them of their place. Don’t worry, I’ll be happy to help you get started.”


    I suppressed a grimace. That sounded a lot like hazing, turned up to eleven. I suspected he was hoping that giving me power over others and pushing me to abuse it would isolate me, forcing me to rely on him more. He was clearly VERY interested in my Impact.


    “That doesn’t sound too hard,” I said slowly. “Are you sure the lack of experience won’t be a problem? I don’t want to cause tension coming in unqualified. I came here for an entry level position, but being hired as a leader right out the gate might upset some people.”


    “The Deepchild provides opportunities for all his followers,” he said serenely. “Even if yours might arrive earlier, the others need only have faith that their time will come.”


    I highly doubted the abomination living in that ocean gave a shit about who was ‘following’ him, at least aside from people like Abraham, but I nodded seriously, pretending to correct my mindset.


    As he spoke, I felt…something. Some kind of gentle pressure probing my mind. Nothing as overt as a touch, but like a sort of pervasive mist coiling around me, looking for a way in. Specifically, the same mist I’d felt from the ocean outside. Except this was much fainter, and much purer. It was obviously higher quality than the stuff being driven off by the candles.


    My Promethean Fire Soul Body, of course, melted it all before it got close, but I could sense him layering it into his speech in a strangely hypnotic way. I wasn’t sure what Abraham’s ability was, but the assumptions of brainwashing were dead on.


    Caladwen wanted evidence though. No one would be able to sense this except me, at least not unless he tried to directly influence them. If it was that easy they would have done it themselves by now. So I smiled gratefully, bowed my head, and followed the greeter (whose name was Simon) out into the hallway and further back into the ministry.


    “So you can sleep here, of course,” Simon chattered as we walked. “We have separate bunks for security, but we naturally supply our own people with the same opportunities we grant to others. Free food, lodging, and an additional stipend of bone coins based on performance.”


    I wasn’t sure what ‘performance’ I was supposed to have. Or for that matter why they needed a whole security force to stop people from stealing basic food supplies from the needy. Whatever the excuse was, it was clearly a pretense to build a private army, but I didn’t even know what the pretense itself was.


    We arrived at another door, this one a metal security door bolted together with rivets. Rather than knock, Simon just pushed it open, stepping an ahead of me and clearing his throat.


    The area inside looked like some kind of bunker. An arched rock ceiling, beds lining the walls, dirt floors, and not much else. When Simon entered and coughed, everyone in the beds jumped up to attention, all of them looking terrified as if they’d been caught doing something unforgivable.


    “Preston, Felix, I saw you two over there reading,” reproved Simon gently. “Do I need to tell the father about this?”


    Two of the men went deathly pale. “No, of course not Simon!” he said quickly. “You’re just joking, right? I know you always look out for us. Here, I’ll give you my stipend for the month, for being such a good friend.”


    The other one nodded. “Of course, Preston is right, you always look out for us, you deserve a reward.”


    Simon, pale and fragile looking, smiled happily, his eyes looking hard and out of place as he gloated. “Well, it’s nice that you realize how much I do for you. It would be rude to turn down your good intentions. I suppose I can accept your reward. But don’t let me catch you doing it again. I can’t protect you forever, can I?”


    I could smell the dishonesty on the air with Scent of Truth. It was easy to figure out what was going on. He was blackmailing them, and he wasn’t being subtle about it. I cleared my own throat. “Simon, you were going to introduce me?”


    He flinched, but recovered quickly. “Ah, of course. Apologies. Everyone, this is Wayne. Wayne is going to be the new captain of your little squad. Wayne’s word is as good as mine of the father’s, so what he says goes.” He turned to me sheepishly. “We don’t allow Preston or Felix books anymore, because they were bringing in heretical material. The first time was just a warning, but after their second offense they were forbidden from having reading material.”


    Gesturing to the two, he held out his hand, and they withdrew a book each, setting them in his palm. “Well, I’ll keep it in mind,” I lied cheerfully. “But for now I think it would be best if I got to know everyone. Can you give us some time to get acquainted?”


    “Of course,” he beamed. “I’d be happy to. I have to get back up front anyway. Sylvia is on greeting duty, and she’s dreadfully lazy. She’d better not be napping again.” As if just talking about the possible infraction got him spun up, he turned and stormed off, already plotting how to punish her in his head.


    I watched him go with a grimace. “What a deeply unpleasant human being,” I commented to the room after he closed the door. “So, I’m Wayne, and fuck everything else that guy said. Seriously. What a dick.” They’d all been watching me tensely, but at my proclamation, I saw them cautiously relax.  “Look, I’m in charge of you guys now, but I’m not trying to step on toes. I’d appreciate if you could help me get settled, tell me how things work, that kind of thing.”


    One of them, a dark skinned guy with lots of very tight miniature braids pulled back into one long ponytail, smiled and held out a hand. “Well, how can we say no to that. I’m Daniel, nice to meet you Wayne. Now pick a bed, and I’ll get started on giving you the dirty details of this place.” I grinned as I followed him deeper into the room towards the empty beds. Maybe this part of things wouldn’t be so bad.
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