There was an immediate reaction. Behind General Hawthorne, the soldiers staggered. Beads of stress sweat trailed down their foreheads, their faces red, mouths in grimaces. Hawthorne clutched his desk with a white knuckled hand, that blank expression wiped clean and replaced with shock. He scanned Logan with what had to be [Identify] before his mouth slackened.

One of the soldiers shouted, a frantic cry for attention, but when a man with a buzzcut burst through the door, Hawthorne slashed his hand in a violent motion.

"Halt!" he said.

"Sir!" said the soldier, his eyes glued to Logan. "H-he's a—"

"Yes," snapped Hawthorne, swallowing, and then he gave the room a severe glare. "He's a high ranker, but he said he means us no harm, and I'm inclined to believe him."

This whole time, Logan had kept his aura blasting at full speed, everything within him letting off a threatening, killing intent. Based on his experience with Pied, he knew it was debilitating, a feeling as if you were being crushed from all sides. For Hawthorne to brush off the effects and rally was impressive.

Hawthorne pinned the soldiers in the room with a look. "No sudden moves, understand. Stand down!"

"Yes sir!" said the two behind the desk.

Hawthorne kept a firm grip on the edge of his desk and used it to leverage himself over to his chair. Sitting down with a wince, he twitched his jaw and pointed his chin up at Logan. "You do mean us no harm, correct?"

Logan looked from Hawthorne to the soldiers behind him. He was trying to make Logan think that he'd overreacted, but after dealing with the Silverdagger Clan, the XP harvesters in Pied's Kingdom; hell, even Pied himself, not to mention the hard lessons he'd learned in Australia with Charlie and Damsel, Logan liked to think that he could trust his instincts. No, this asshole had been about to try something, and it was only after Logan had revealed his true level that he'd backed down.

"Can you say the same?" Logan ground out. "You were ready to try to steal my spatial storage devices for yourself."

Hawthorne smiled and looked down at the surface of his desk. Glancing up and peering at Logan's incredulous expression, he guffawed. "I won't deny it. Can you blame me? I'm in charge of keeping thousands of people alive, and you're a foreigner who came here hoping to get rich."

"I was trying to help your people."

"Oh really! Out of the goodness of your heart, I suppose! A man who fashioned himself as 'Lord Logan'?" He scoffed. "Give me a break. You have an angle. Everyone does. But I can't blame you; I don't blame anyone, really. We're all trying to survive a world that turned into Hell on Earth, where your favorite pet can turn into a demon who wants to kill you. Son, believe me, I understand. But that doesn't mean that I don't have an enormous responsibility in front of me. Unlike you, the people who rely on me are the citizens of this great state, and many of them don't even have a level. We've had to make hard decisions, decisions that I never would have made two weeks ago."

Hawthorne shifted in his chair, shuffling the papers in front of him, before sneering. "Don't give me that look! We're what the System made us." Slamming the drawer of his desk open, he took a file and flipped it open, pointing his index finger at a line of text. "Look. Look! That's how many people have come here in the last two weeks, saying they wanted to sell us something, only for them to turn into XP harvesters! Don't punish us for trying to be smart."

Logan held back a snort. "You knew I was telling the truth. That I wasn't a threat."

Hawthorne sighed. "The others said that too, you know. They believed it, just like you did. But once I let them in, the temptation became too great. They killed dozens before my soldiers could put them down. Now, they weren't all like that. But that's the law of averages. One threat is too many."

Logan looked from Hawthorne to the soldiers, considering, and then his shoulders dropped, and he pulled back on his aura. At the same time, the men behind Hawthorne let out soundless sighs of relief, one wiping off his brow, the other running a hand through his sweaty hair. Logan grabbed a chair and pulled it towards the opposite end of Hawthorne's desk and sat down. It was obvious that this fucker had been about to command his soldiers to do some bad shit, but he hadn't followed through. His anger and tension were still ratcheted up to the ninth degree, but Logan wasn't a senseless killing machine.

Hawthorne had all but admitted that he would have tried to kill Logan if he weren't so high leveled, which meant that if he'd been level 55, he would have been fucked. So much for his hope that he'd come across a sane group. Instead, he'd stumbled across a group led by someone who had a ruthless mind, someone who weighed the odds and came to harsh decisions.

"Besides," said Hawthorne, "don't tell me that you haven't made your own calculations. You're over level 100! And with an aura that made me want to piss myself. A man like that who disguises his level, trying to let us into our main population? Why do it? Why do it other than for a motive that I'm not going to like." Hawthorne's gaze drifted to the door and then back to Logan.

Logan narrowed his eyes. Deploying [Threshold Shift], he used the skill to scan his surroundings. Just like in Pied's Kingdom where he'd shifted through the floors like a ghost in search of Lara, he used the skill to look through the walls.

Outside in the hallway, soldiers had surged into the area, what had to be a hundred at least, packed like sardines. Each held a weapon, one of those huge rifles that Emily and the others had carried.

Logan released [Threshold Shift] and then debated a way forward. The soldiers weren't in the hallway for a picnic; Hawthorne was trying something, but was it the act of a desperate man who was convinced that he was facing someone unsurmountable? Or was it something malicious? Despite the army's firepower, they were outmatched. Hawthorne had to know that. There was only so much sheer numbers and firepower could do against someone like Logan. So, give him a chance? Or go full supernova on their ass?

Logan clenched his fist and then let his hand drop on top of the desk with a thud.

"Take my hand," he demanded.

"What?"

"Use your skill. Clasp my hand."

Hawthorne hesitated, glancing from Logan's face to his arm, and then clasped his hand in a handshake.

"Does your skill only work if you ask a question? Or can you determine if I'm telling the truth either way?"

"Once it's activated, I can tell whether you're telling the truth no matter what."

"Activate it," Logan said, his voice tense.

There was a slight sensation of cold on his fingers, as if he'd dipped his nails into a glass of water full of ice. "I hid my level because I didn't want people to be scared of me or to turn hostile. I'm not an XP harvester, but my level makes others think that I am. I came here to set up a lodestone so I could offer a private market, a store. Not because I'm a good person, or because I'm trying to help your people. You're right, that was a lie. I'm here because the System gave me a quest, a quest to craft lodestones in populated areas." Logan pinned Hawthorne with a look. "Was I telling the truth?"

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He swallowed. "Yes."

"Keep the skill active." Hawthorne's face was becoming clammy, his lips bloodless. Keeping the skill active must be taking an enormous amount of Karma, and if he weren't careful, he'd be in for Karma deprivation.

"Hear me now," said Logan. "I know about the men in the hallway. If you choose to fight me for no reason, you won't win. I've killed hundreds of monsters; I've killed aliens and outwitted an immortal over level 1000. I've eliminated XP harvesters who were way overpowered, levels I haven't seen amongst your soldiers. I mowed them down like butter. I've fought other high rankers and came out on top. You think I can't kill you and everyone around you? Fuck with me, and your people will be defenseless. You might as well open the door to every XP harvester around. But work with me, and we might just save the world."

Logan paused and then squeezed Hawthorne's hand, using only a fraction of his strength, but to Hawthorne, it must feel like Logan was crushing his hand in a meat grinder. "Am I telling the truth?"

A vein bulged in Hawthorne's forehead, and he squirmed in his seat.

"Am I?" Logan hissed.

His mouth dropped open, and he burst out, "Yes!"

Logan felt his tension fizzle out as he released Hawthorne's hand. "All right," he said, giving him a firm look. "Let's see what we can do."

***

Hawthorne guided Logan down the hallway, the soldiers lined up on each wall giving him narrow-eyed looks as he went. After that encounter, Logan would never trust these people, but he hadn't come here to make friends. His Build an Empire Quest had been his priority. And in the grand scheme of things, if he compared Hawthorne against people like Damsel, the man wasn't so bad. Until Logan witnessed otherwise, his worst sin was trying to do what was right for the people under his care.

Hawthorne led the way down the stairs and into the main stadium. Logan heard a wall of sound at first, a murmur of thousands of voices. Followed by an odour of unwashed bodies and sweat, and the distinct reek of sewage.

They wound their way down the last stairway. The venue opened onto a baseball field, but unlike what Logan expected—green grass, the home plate—instead, he was met with a jumbled mass of tents and beds. Thousands of them. The field was packed with canvas tents, from small campfire tents to tents that resembled huts. Scattered throughout were portable metal beds and people's belongings.

People swarmed through the tents and beds like rats in a maze, so many that there was no way for Logan to scan them all with [Idiot's Inspect]. Just like in the street, most were hardly past level 10, with the majority sitting at level 0. Level 0!

If he'd wanted a mass of people for his private market, he'd found it. Hell, there was so many people that even if they lined up from sunrise to sunset, there's no way everyone would have the opportunity to buy an item.

Up above the field, they'd repurposed the game billboard. What would normally list the game's score was instead a population tally:

Countdown: Day 13 of Day 365

World Population: 5,980,812,922

If you encounter these individuals, approach the nearest soldier:

Charon: Level 235

Idiot: Level 162

Damsel Fuck You: 128

Yogi Bear: 121

Thor: Level 121

Scott: Level 119

Mictlantecuhtli: Level 114

The General: Level 112

Xuanwu: Level 112

Sarah Ellison: Level 110

Huh. So. Technically, everyone here must have received the daily System alert, but Logan had passed the day without it. Come to think of it, before, he'd been asleep when the alert blasted through his mind like an alarm clock. Did that mean that since Logan had been awake for over 24 hours, he wouldn't receive the notification? Or because he'd jumped around time zones like crazy, he'd bypassed it altogether? [Undead Stamina] was helping to keep him strong; his adrenaline was running, so he didn't feel tired, but he knew this non-stop activity would catch up to him eventually.

Logan was shocked to see the leaderboard there though. He'd received access to it via a System reward, which meant that someone here must have received the same. Aww, man. The only thing he'd kept close to his chest was why he'd altered his hidden name. Although the Gem of Subterfuge showed his hidden name as 'Lord Logan,' it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Logan was level 162, which meant that he had to be on the leaderboard. And unfortunately, no one else was close to his level. Hawthorne had to realize that he was the 'Idiot' on the leaderboard, the one who had a bounty.

Still, Logan thought he'd convinced Hawthorne that attacking him was the definition of a bad idea, which meant that he was in the clear. At least for now.

"Well," said Hawthorne, his fingers twitching. "Will this work for you? Do you need a solid surface to set up the store?"

Logan eyed his surroundings. Initially, when he'd received the skill, he'd thought that he needed to craft the lodestone against something impressive, like one of his immense carbon capturing trees, but really, any surface would do. The System counted it as a lodestone either way.

"This'll do," said Logan, pointing to the nearest wall. It was flush against the tents and accessible to the whole field.

Mentally rummaging through the contents of his spatial storage collar, Logan removed a lodestone, positioned the metal plate against the wall, and then deployed [Lodestone Creationist]. A warm sensation pooled in his stomach, his body feeling flush with energy.

Ding!

[Lodestone access point created! Would you like to review the inventory in your private market?]

Logan held back a fist pump, smothering a smile as he turned to Hawthorne. "It's ready."

Hawthorne and the soldiers studied the lodestone, getting that faraway look as they deployed [Identify]. Giving Logan a dubious glance, Hawthorne approached it and then touched the lodestone as if he expected it to bite.

His whole body froze.

Behind him, the soldiers shifted and adjusted their weapons.

After a minute, Hawthorne turned with that same blank expression as before. "Weapons?" he asked. "You're giving us weapons?"

"Like I said, I'm trying to satisfy a quest. And to be frank, whether I sell weapons or not makes no difference to me. If every single person here armed themselves with a weapon, it wouldn't change your odds of success against me one bit. I like to think that I'm a modest guy; I don't like to brag, but you've seen the leaderboard. You know everyone here has no chance against me."

There were murmurs and swears from the soldiers.

Hawthorne held up a quelling hand. "He has a point, men. Never let it be said that I couldn't see the reality of the situation in front of me."

Logan glanced around, staring at the people too numerous to count. He'd wanted a place with a high population, and he'd found it. In fact…

"Where are you going?" asked Hawthorne in alarm as he surged after Logan, the soldiers not knowing whether they should point their weapons or follow.

"This way. Follow me." Logan walked across the field full of tents, darting past a mother holding her child who was level 2, to a senior who had to be in his 80s. He kept wandering around each tent until he reached the other side of the field. Ignoring Hawthorne, Logan went through the same process and crafted a lodestone on another stone wall.

"Another one?" someone muttered.

Logan smiled, excitement surging as he pulled up his quest status.

[Build an Empire! Craft ten lodestone access points and sell 100 items within 48 hours.]

[Reward for completing the Quest: Lord status. Lord status will allow you to declare yourself the lord of your community, receive pledges of loyalty, and Karma tax.]

[Penalty for not completing the Quest: All future KarmaCoin earnings will be reduced by fifty percent. In perpetuity.]

[Quest Progress: 95% complete. 17 hours remaining.]

It made sense to craft two lodestones here. He suspected more and more people would pour into the area. Thousands. Based on how long people took to preview the items and eventually come to a selection, all these people would never get access to the lodestone in one day. Even with two lodestones, they'd still be lining up, one after another

He'd crafted nine lodestones, which meant that he only had one left. One more and he would finish this quest and reap the rewards. Logan let the chatter of the people around him become background noise as he ran his fingers over his chin, scratching his stubble. There were any number of places that he could go, but—

"You're looking for another location for a lodestone?" said Hawthorne.

Logan turned and gave him a dry look. "I think two here is enough. Don't be greedy, general."

Hawthorne's expression was like stone. "Greed doesn't factor into it, son, but helping my people does. This isn't our only location. This is just our headquarters."

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