A week went by without much incident. I spent the days mostly reading the novels I bought, The Grimoire, and my latest acquisition courtesy of Bran: a book on machinery used in Dunwall. I managed to master Ice Needle and Ice Shield, but I was having trouble with the rest primarily because I didn't have much space to attempt the larger spells, and perhaps because I lacked the mana, or whatever its equivalent was in Black Clover. Still, it should be enough to use in a pinch should everything else fail. Besides, I much preferred to avoid fighting altogether.
As for my new book, it was a rudimentary study on how the technology here worked and how whale oil was utilized to power these technological marvels. With enough training, I was confident I could bridge the gaps between the tech here and the tech from my world. Unlike crude oil, whale oil was more efficient and required less refinement. The only reason crude oil replaced it was because it was more abundant and because people had driven whales to near extinction. The same was true in Dunwall as well, hence why whale oil was heavily taxed and more expensive by the gallon, even compared to my world. How Sokolov managed to use it to create technology so advanced that some of it surpassed modern innovations was a mystery to me.
Since I didn't have a specific tinkering skill from the gacha, I had to develop one from scratch — reading this book with the help of Trainee Tinker and Gale Force Reading Glasses. After a week, I was confident enough to distinguish circuitry and components on blueprints well enough to make my own. Which brings me to my current task. With Bran as an intermediary, I managed to contact a person who dealt in weapons including their blueprints most of which were either regulated, like guns, or outright prohibited, like the spring razors authorized only for the Abbey of the Everyman, a.k.a. the Inquisition.
The seller wanted to meet me personally, and unfortunately, I wasn't in a position to refuse. If I had sent Bran, I would've been shedding my neutrality and effectively allying with the Gutter Rats. Besides, I was getting a little bored being cooped up at home.
The meeting place was familiar the Hound Pits Pub, the main hub from the first Dishonored game. It was located in the southeastern part of Dunwall, north of the Chamber of Commerce, in what was considered neutral territory. And by neutral, I mean it was contested by many gangs, but there was a temporary ceasefire for good reason. The pub had been the meeting ground for the Loyalists back during the Plague, before its leadership turned on Corvo and killed most of their underlings. When people eventually figured out this was where the Loyalists had made their base, some wealthy merchant family bought and renovated it. They now charge moderately higher fees than other pubs for people who want to dine in the same place as the Loyalists once did. Not a bad idea, really. They might not be making much profit now, but imagine this place a few decades or a century later. It'll be a tourist hotspot.
I took a wagon to the pub and asked the driver to wait for me before heading inside. The moment I stepped through the door, I got a notification:
"Visited a Landmark (Hound Pits Pub): +1 Silver Trait Ticket
Visited a Hub from the Game: +1 Diamond Item Ticket, +5 Bronze Item Tickets."
Nice. I gained tickets by visiting landmarks and central locations from the game. But I'd walked past the Kaldwell Bridge many times over the past few days and hadn't received any. I should probably test that sometime.
Looking around, I found the meeting spot at the bar counter. I was looking for a man wearing a white brooch. I spotted him a little ways from the bartender a middle-aged man with glasses. A very familiar one, in fact. Pierro.
A notification appeared just as I recognized him. Pierro — the inventor from the first game who made Corvo's weapons, mask, and mana potions (or their equivalents). I didn't recall him being mentioned in the second game, aside from the S&J Elixir and a few lore entries suggesting he went to work at the Academy, implying he and Sokolov buried the hatchet.
Which raised the question: what was he doing here? He could easily afford better establishments. Why was he selling those items? It didn't make sense. I doubted he was short on money.
I reluctantly took an empty seat next to him and said the password:
"The clockwork rat atop the steel mill calls for your aid."
A sentence that made no sense perhaps intentionally so.
Pierro turned his head and glanced at me.
"You're young," he muttered.
"And?" I asked quizzically.
"Fair enough" he chuckled, pouring himself another drink before offering me one, which I politely declined.
"May I ask you something?" I began.
He shrugged in response.
"You're a respected professor at the Academy. You've worked with Sokolov and were instrumental in curing the plague. So why are you here? Why sell the blueprints?"
Silence hung between us, drowned by the laughter and clinking glasses around us.
"Tell me, boy. Have you ever had a dream? A dream to surpass your peers?" he asked.
"Not really," I said simply.
Having lived a few short years in poverty, I was content just living a luxurious life. That's why I'd been passive, even though I was in a video game world with a Chaos gacha. If it weren't for the looming threat of my eldritch sponsor and the general otherworldly fuckery of this place, I would've been content to live quietly here. Though, even in the best of days, a peaceful life in Dunwall was a pipe dream. It was only a matter of time before I ran into the law or one of the countless gangs that infested this city. Still, I wasn't about to live my life in constant fear.
"I was born a commoner," Pierro began. "And like many others, I longed to rise above my station to become someone who mattered. My intellect set me apart from my peers, and I managed to luck my way into the Academy, graduating with high honors. Until I was ousted by Sokolov. But that's ancient history."
He took a drink before continuing.
"After we cured the plague, I had it all: wealth, respect, a position in high society. But do you know what I lacked?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "A legacy. As much as I've tried, people will not remember Pierro. They'll remember Sokolov and Pierro. Without his name beside mine, I'm nothing. I have no children, no wife, not even a mistress. No legacy to leave behind once I'm gone. And so, here I am."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy-looking book.
"This book contains it all, schematics, blueprints, formulas. Every iota of knowledge I've gathered over the years. If I leave it with the Academy, they'll put it on a pedestal and let no one touch it. Technology will advance, and my work will become obsolete. Actually, I think it already has. That 'genius' in Karnaca they're calling him the next Sokolov."
He sighed. "That's why I'm selling it. At least this way, I'll have a legacy someone not born with a silver spoon, someone from the streets, just like me."
He downed another glass, then motioned to the bartender for another bottle. Pouring beer into two glasses, he slid one toward me.
"So, what's your story?"
"I'm a merchant," I replied, accepting the drink this time. "The ship I was on sank, along with most of my cargo and money. So I'm using what I have left to rebuild my capital and procure new goods."
"So why do you need my book?"
"I figured I'd make a better profit crafting my own wares instead of buying and reselling."
"Not a bad idea," he said. "I'll pray for your success."
The next hour was a blur, both of us sharing stories. I, of course, embellished quite a few details. We bonded over our failed romantic lives and our respective academy experiences. At one point, I helped him talk to one of the female patrons by feeding him lines from a rom-com movie. The woman seemed amused, so I counted that as a win.
Before leaving, I handed Pierro a card with my shop's address and asked him to visit if he had the time. My intentions, of course, were partly self-serving. My mission in this world was to change its fate. The best way would be to align with the main characters but that came with risks. So I chose the next best option: approach the side characters connected to them. Pierro was perfect. He was close to the Kaldwells but not as close as Sokolov, and through him, I could get a line to Sokolov himself without risking exposure. Megan and Corvo were too sharp to fool. Pierro, however, was approachable.
"Anyway, I should be going. Thanks for the drinks," I said as I stood up. "Are you going to be alright on your own?"
Pierro waved a hand dismissively. "I'll be fine. My escort should be here any minute." He looked behind me. "Ah, there he is now."
I turned and saw another familiar face. Samuel the Boatman, Corvo's old transporter.
"Evening, Mr. Joplin. Looks like you're having fun," he said, chuckling as he took my seat.
"So, who's your new friend?" he asked.
"That's Eivor Maxwell aspiring entrepreneur and the new owner of my book," Pierro slurred.
"I see," Samuel said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he sized me up. "Well, congratulations, kid. Hope you put it to good use."
I smiled and left the pub, heading back to the waiting carriage. I had to pay the coachman extra since I'd spent an hour there instead of the few minutes I'd promised.
As the carriage rattled through the streets, I checked the new notifications:
New Feats Acquired
A Familiar Face: Met a named character from the game ×2
— +2 Gold Item Tickets, +4 Silver Random Tickets
Guide Others to a Treasure You Cannot Possess: Helped a loser impress a girl at a bar.
— +1 Platinum Skill Ticket, +1 Platinum Ability Ticket, +1 Platinum Trait Ticket
Sixteen tickets total : one Diamond, three Platinum. I was practically grinning like the Grinch. Normally, I'd wait until I was home to redeem them, but the temptation was too strong. So, I rolled the Diamond ticket first, then the Platinum ones.
[XXI – The World]
Epic Item
Tarot Card — Allows you to permanently fuse two abilities of the same rank to receive an ability of a higher rank. 240-hour cooldown.
[Mind Blast]
Uncommon Ability — Sends a wave of shimmering psionic energy through your eyes. When it hits a sentient target, it causes mental damage, confusion, and painful headaches. Effectiveness depends on the target's mental and magical strength.
[Ygdar Orus Li Ox]
Elite Trait — "You only live once." At the moment of your death, you are revived with all lethal wounds healed and some energy restored. Once triggered, this trait is permanently deleted.
[Expert Mechanics]
Elite Skill — You are an expert mechanic; your ability to design, fix, and build machinery rivals that of a low-level Tinker. You can repair and build any mundane machine, design improved versions, and with enough time, even create low-level tinkertech.
My Grinch smile had evolved into Lloyd Fonterra's. I'd practically gotten a 1-Up. Expert Mechanics synergized perfectly with Trainee Tinker, Mind Blast gave me a non-physical attack, and The World allowed me to merge redundant skills. Overall, my best haul yet.
My body jolted as the carriage came to an abrupt stop.
"We've arrived, sir," the coachman said.
I frowned. It hadn't even been five minutes since leaving the pub that was impossible. Something was wrong. I summoned the Saharan Slicers, hiding them beneath my coat as I stepped out.
A dozen men and women stood a few yards away, armed with makeshift weapons pipes, planks, and one with a blade. The last one tossed a leather pouch toward the coachman, who caught it mid-air the clank of coins echoed through the silent alleyway. I didn't need to be Einstein to understand what was happening.
"Ugh. Fuck this city," I muttered, gripping my daggers tighter.