I managed to finish the current content in Limbus Company. Chapter 3 was a real paiiiin to beat, but enjoyable. Also, the music is banging as always.
Cover Art: Kirire
Chapter 44
Jaune looked much fancier than usual. He'd swapped out his longer coat for a tailor-made and fitted charcoal-coloured blazer that was buttoned up at the front, and he'd swapped out his black tie for a bold blue one tied in an intricate and uniform knot at his collar. His sword was slung across his back with a black strap diagonally across his chest, and he'd swapped black gloves for white. Blake couldn't admit to understanding what any of it meant, but he looked fancy, and even, if she dared admit it, quite handsome. It was the clothes. Any man would look hot in those.
Comparatively, Blake was wearing what she often did – black blazer, white shirt, tight skirt, black leggings, black shoes. ARC Corp uniform. She idly wished he'd told her they were dressing up for this because she looked like an underling – which was maybe his aim. He was her boss after all, and he sure looked it like this. Passers-by looked their way, unsure of who they were on such an otherwise rough street outside their apartment block. This wasn't the kind of area where people like this hung about. Blake was surprised they hadn't had someone come and try to rob them. The sword on Jaune's back, and the weapon on her hip, had probably seen to that.
A sleek and spotless limousine buffed to a mirror shine indicated and slowly came to a stop on the road before them. It was at least ten metres long, and people stopped and stared as a man in a white uniform climbed out, came around, and opened the door for them. He looked human, unlike the anomaly she had seen serving the Schnee before. He waved them inside, Blake first, and then Jaune climbing in and placing his metal briefcase on the seat between them. The driver climbed back into the driver's seat, closed the door, and ignited the engine. There was a glass screen divider between them and the driver but a quick shake of Jaune's head warned her not to speak. She wouldn't put it past the Schnee to have listening devices inside, and everything that needed to be said had been. They were going directly into the belly of the beast, and she hadn't felt this anxious since the Twilight City.
Blake instead looked out the window and tried to gauge where they were headed. Somewhere high-class, and not, this time, the theatre hall she and Roman had been to before. They were brought deep into the expensive shopping and entertainment districts; the streets where high-brand stores sold jackets for five figure prices. It was the sort of place that most people who lived in Vale didn't bother visiting, and where tourists would come to peer through windows, snap photographs, but also not shop at. The stores were reserved for the rich and famous, and it was a restaurant on that street that they came to a halt at.
"I doubt the auction is here," said Jaune, as the chauffeur opened the door for them.
"Lady Schnee was insistent that you dine with her." He bowed his head. "I apologise for any confusion but I did not expect that you had not been told. If you like, I can try and reach out to her and explain the situation."
Jaune grimaced. "It's no matter. We'll play her silly game."
The chauffeur looked horrified. The Schnee family were famously wealthy and powerful while the Arc family were intentionally reclusive, and it must have been shocking for him to hear a person he'd never even heard of insult a Schnee like that. He didn't say anything, though. Too professional, or maybe too worried of getting in trouble. He apologised again, closed the car door, and hurried to the entrance of the restaurant where two members of staff in red waistcoats – restaurant staff, rather than SDC – awaited them. "Reservation for Schnee."
"Of course. Please enjoy yourselves inside." The two bowed low and opened the glass doors for Blake and Jaune. There was no checking of names, but it became clear from how all the chairs and tables inside, bar one, had been pushed aside that Winter had rented out the whole building. "Lady Schnee will be arriving shortly but asked us to see to your drinks. Everything is being covered tonight. We have a lovely champagne, and a range of sparkling whites and deep reds that date back over a hundred years-"
"Water," said Jaune, voice flat. "Just water."
"Same," said Blake.
The waiter hesitated, pained for a moment, and then bowed his head and stepped away. "I will be back shortly with your drinks, sir and madam. Please do not hesitate to wave me down should you wish anything else."
He returned moments later with two glasses, a glass jug filled with water and ice, and a small basket of breadsticks. Blake took one and nibbled on it while Jaune swung the briefcase up onto the table and sat down. He sipped his water silently.
It took fifteen minutes for the door to open and a tall woman with white hair to enter. Winter Schnee, smirking as she had in the last auction, swayed into the restaurant and surrendered a beautiful white and grey fur coat to the waiter to hang on a hook, then ordered a full bottle of "your most expensive champagne" for the table. It came in a bucket of ice, with the bottle dotted with little crystal-like decorations on the glass. Three flutes were poured, though only Winter touched hers.
"You seem tense," she said, idly watching them over the rim of her glass. "I hope you're not worried about tonight."
"There was no mention of a meal in your invitation," said Jaune, icily. "Dragging us here and wasting our time is the height of rudeness. I'd ask if your parents didn't teach you manners, but I suppose they were too busy abusing other people to spend any time abusing you."
"Oooh, so cattish. So sharp. Should I respond in kind? Would you like it if I dragged your own mother into the conversation? What was it that happened to her again?"
Blake's hand snapped out to grip Jaune's wrist but he hadn't moved. That surprised her. If it had been her, she would have leapt across the table and slammed her fist into that smug bitch's face. She still wanted to.
"As ever, a Schnee goes for the low-hanging fruit," he said. "I suppose it's to be expected. You've never had to work for anything in your life, so the concept of exerting yourself must be foreign. That's why you'll fail in the end. You have no idea how to put the effort in. You prod and poke and play games assuming it'll all work out, and that your wealth and power make you untouchable. I'll be there when it runs out."
"Is that so?" Winter chuckled. "And what will you do?"
"Isn't that obvious? I'll kill you."
"So bloodthirsty. So violent. And to a distant relation as well. We're cousins, Jaune. We're family." Winter clapped her hands together lightly, summoning the waiter. "I ordered in advance. I hope you don't mind. Waiter, we would like to begin the first course."
Small plates and smaller portions came out. Nine courses in total, nine courses of varied meats, meals, and artfully decorated entrees. Presentation was everything apparently, to the degree that the individual meals were small enough to be a mouthful and little more. Blake hadn't been hungry anyway, and that was fortunate because it didn't feel like any of this would have filled her. Jaune ate woodenly, gripping his cutlery with his white gloves. Winter had suggested he remove them to eat, and he'd steadfastly ignored her.
"Delicious." Winter dabbed at her lips with a napkin. "Don't you both agree? I do so enjoy a light meal before an exciting evening. I hope you're both looking forward to that. I've even taken the liberty of securing you a private booth."
"We could skip all that," said Jaune. He slid the briefcase around and opened it. "Fifteen million. Cash. I will purchase the anomaly ahead of the auction."
Winter leaned back. "Now, now, that would be unfair of me, wouldn't it? All those other people have a right to bid for this as well."
"No one who wants this is going to be able to offer even a million lien. I'm offering you fifteen, right now, to put the matter to rest. You won't get a better offer – or even close to this – at the auction. You know that."
Winter finished dabbing her lips and set the napkin down. "Even so, I must refuse."
It wasn't about the money. The Schnee family were filthy rich already, and Jaune was right to say no one could hope to match his offer. Any other auctioneer would have taken the advance and cancelled the auction, but Winter wanted to see the auction go ahead. Blake bristled at the smug smile, and the naked interest in her eyes. This was all a game to Winter. It was all just a sick and twisted little game.
"Don't think you'll get away with this," said Jaune.
"Hmhmhm. You keep saying that. The thing about talk, however, is that it's cheap. Too cheap." Winter finished her glass, set it down, and stood. "Shall we be off? The bill has been handled, and a gratuity, and I'm sure you'd like to get the night over with." She glanced their way, and smirked. "Unless you'd like to try your hand at killing me here and now. I'm sure you could. I'm on my own after all."
Jaune stood as well, took the briefcase, and slid it off the table. "Let's get this over with."
/-/
The auction itself was being held in an opera house not dissimilar to the first theatre, but a little higher class. It had rich red seats, long curtains, and they'd been given one of those booths up against the walls sticking out like a tumor. All that was lacking were a pair of those little binoculars on a stick she'd seen in fancy movies. Winter had left them to be escorted there.
"You were right about the money being irrelevant," said Blake. "They want to cause as much chaos as they can for their own amusement."
"I know. If it were just money then ARC Corp wouldn't have much trouble controlling them. We'd pay them a retainer to work for us if it was just about the finances."
"Is it really just for fun, though?"
"I'm not sure. Father once said the Schnee want to replace us as the dominant and most-trusted anomalous-based organisation." He saw her confusion and elaborated. "The Councils and Kingdoms trust ARC Corp because we're the ones who keep them safe, and you know how that gives us near limitless money and power. If we were to be killed off or exposed and shut down then they'd need someone else, and the Schnee can put themselves forward for that."
"Why? They already have money."
"They want the power to go with it."
"Aren't they powerful enough already? Last I checked, they had politicians in their pockets and the money to sue anyone who criticises them into oblivion."
"There's no such thing as enough power to those who have tasted it. They see what we have and think it unfair that they don't, and they don't care about the responsibilities that go with it. As bad as we seem at times, at least we look after the kingdoms and do our best. They would play favourites, blackmail governments, and flex their power to gain whatever they wanted. To us, the anomalies are a responsibility. To them, they're a means to an end."
"Of course," he continued, "I don't know if that is the real reason. That's just what my father thinks. He may be right, though. The auctions don't just cause chaos but they're also an embarrassment to ARC Corp whenever they happen. We're meant to be in charge of stopping issues with anomalies, and it's not like the various governments don't notice when a Schnee auction happens and we can't stop it."
"Then why don't they? They could arrest them."
"Dust. They need the dust. The Reality-Class Anomaly responsible for its production is something they can't afford to lose, and you can bet your spine the SDC would kill it off rather than let themselves be ousted. They'd see the world fall into an energy crisis and chaos rather than lost even a fraction of their power."
"Bastards." Blake crossed her arms and rested them on the banister, watching as people – no, anomalies – began to file in below. Most were humanoid in shape, though not all. Some looked perfectly normal but carried objects with them. "What's with those?" asked Blake.
"Sentient item-based anomalies that are influencing hosts, I'd imagine."
"Like mind control?"
"Possibly, but not always. They might just be offering benefits to their hosts and communicating with them. I'm not familiar with every anomaly in Vale despite my best efforts. Sentient items working with humans are some of the best at staying hidden because they have normal people acting on their behalf. Honestly, as long as they're not causing problems and are staying hidden I don't care too much. There are too many bigger things to focus on."
Sensible as that was, she couldn't believe just how many anomalies there were that Jaune let run free. The opera house was slowly filling, as over a hundred people came and took seats. There was no way the two of them could have found and arrested so many people, and most of them hadn't done anything obvious to draw ARC Corp's attention. There was no way they could have known about them, where to find them, or how to start tracking them down.
"Should we try and memorise some of them for later?"
"No." Jaune shook his head. "If we break the peace now then they'll never have trust in us. They're coming out into the open here."
"What, like a treaty or rules…?"
"There aren't any rules but there is common sense. It's the same as how some governments would negotiate with the White Fang on hostage releases. Sure, you want to arrest them the second you see them, but do that and they'll never reach out like that again. You capture a few terrorists but you condemn every prisoner thereafter to be killed." He sighed. "It's the same here. I'd rather honour some nebulous and unspoken agreement and have them see me as someone they could theoretically approach if things got bad, then alienate them and let problems fester that I don't even know exist."
"Your family wouldn't agree."
"That goes without saying, Blake."
"No. But I mean, don't you think that maybe it's the way you do things that made Winter target you? If their goal is to cause chaos then the whole reason they're offering a purported cure is because they know all those anomalies you let run rampant would come out the woodwork."
Blake didn't want to imply that the Fist Office had the right of things with their genocide-first approach, but there was no arguing that a lot of this wouldn't be happening if the anomalies were terrified of Jaune, and hunted down ahead of time.
"A fire and brimstone approach might have prevented this problem," admitted Jaune, "but it would have opened up a bunch of others. It's too late to second guess things now anyway. Vale has become something of a bastion for non-threatening anomalies under me, and I'm fine with that. We're the Containments Office. In a way, they're contained."
In a way, yes. Vale was like a low security prison with a laissez-faire warden who let you do whatever you wanted as long as you didn't break any big rules and cause problems for the innocents outside. And most of the anomalous prisoners contained in this system obeyed those rules, and, in a sense, advocated and kept them among one another. Anomalies dealt with anomalies so that the favourable system they enjoyed was kept as it is.
It's clever in a way. It's like he's recruited other anomalies to be wardens against others, and the sentient ones are just like us – they like it when things are comfortable and don't want to see that taken away. We may not have them under lock and key, but they are contained. In a sense.
The only problem was that Winter had come with the intention of starting a prison riot.
"It looks like we're getting started," said Jaune, nodding to the stage. Winter Schnee was there, along with two identical looking human figures – the anomaly from the last auction. Blake had to wonder if they hadn't been hiding somewhere with Winter, or even on her person as an anomalous item, during the dinner. It would explain why Jaune didn't take the chance to attack her there.
Come to think of it, the idea of Winter coming alone and undefended didn't make sense at all. And she was practically goading Jaune to strike her. I bet she had something planned for if he tried that would get us arrested for the night and we'd miss this auction. Well, they hadn't fallen for it. Or Jaune hadn't. Blake would have gladly exchanged a few nights in a cell for the chance to introduce her knuckles to Winter's eye socket.
Winter tapped a microphone before her and let the loud "bumpf bumpf" echo out.
Conversation in the theatre halted. Gelatinous masses in human shape squelched on seats; an insectoid creature with twelve legs chittered and vibrated in the aisle; two men dressed as stereotypical bodyguards replete with black sunglasses flanked a blonde-haired boy wearing a silver crown. They were as varied and indiscernible as any people she had ever seen, and it made her head ache to try and comprehend them all.
"Thank you, one and all, for attending this most marvellous auction."
Winter threw her arms about, smiling grandly. In photos, she'd seen Jacques Schnee look surly and miserly, and not all that excited in his work. Winter was the opposite. Her very being trembled with excitement, as if she were on the most powerful drug ever created.
"You are gathered here today to bid on an item most wonderous and most exceptional – something we believe would be of great interest to everyone here, hence our personal invitations sent to each and every one of you. Here tonight, we have our wonderous offering for you all. A cure for the anomalous condition."
Winter gestured to one of her anomalous aides, who drew back a satin cloth to reveal a wooden box. Winter then opened that with a click to show blue velvet padding inside. Laid out upon that, nestled among the blue velvet, were three stoppered vials of a pale blue liquid. Blake was not the only one to lean forward for a closer look. There was nothing to guarantee it would work as advertised. Honestly, given that the Schnee sold anomalies there was more reason to doubt it. Still, that didn't stop the fact they had to get a hold of it.
"Fifty thousand!" shouted someone down below.
"Seventy-"
Jaune stood. "Five million lien."
Silence. Deafening silence. Everyone down there was an anomalous entity of some kind, which meant they were staying under the radar. They might have stocks and shares, and some might even have distance-based jobs or sources of income on the side, but by their very natures they couldn't afford to be famous, and wealth tended to draw that. As Jaune had said in the restaurant, they couldn't hope to match the financial might ARC Corp could bring to the table.
"Five million lien. Do I hear another offer? Six million? No? Going once. Going twice." Winter paused to let the discontent grow. "Sold – to ARC Corp."
Heads, eyes, mandibles, stalks, protrusions and empty spaces turned to glare up at their booth, and all of a sudden it struck Blake just why Winter had chosen to give them a private one. It wasn't out of respect or for their safety, but because it elevated them in the eyes of the anomalies. They all desperately wanted this as well, and to hear that ARC Corp – the establishment – was going to take it? Well, that had them upset. Understandably so.
"Come with me," said Jaune. "We'll go collect it together."
Winter was continuing to talk as she and Jaune whisked out the door and down a corridor, then a flight of stairs. They came out and down the central aisle between the seats, and Blake fidgeted as every pair of eyes or other ocular organ focused on them. Jaune kept his gaze ahead as he strode up the steps onto the stage and handed over the briefcase, a third full now, and let one of the anomalous figures go through it. He nodded, and the other handed the closed wooden container over to Jaune, who quickly passed it to Blake.
"Congratulations on your win," said Winter. "See? That wasn't so difficult now, was it?"
"Leave. Now."
"So touchy. We're done here anyway." Winter raised her voice. "Thank you all for coming, and we are sorry that we can't offer more. Unfortunately, ARC Corp now holds the only instances of the cure that are on Remnant. I bid you all a good evening and a good night."
Winter retreated quickly with her aides. Little wonder that she wanted to be gone now that this was over – she was leaving them to deal with the aftermath. Jaune turned, knowing what he'd see. Sure enough, the anomalies in the crowd were furious. He cleared his throat and spoke out.
"There is no evidence to suggest this cure exists. The Schnee take pleasure in abusing anomalies for their personal profit and amusement, as many of you well know. If there is a cure for the anomalous condition, and you want that, then you should be happy for us to take this because if anyone can synthesise and mass produce it then it will be us. You know me and you know I've taken a peaceful footing and let you all exist here without threat or harm. Please do not force my hand now."
Several stood and left – a good many, in fact. About two thirds of the audience, grumbling as they did, up and left. And that was a good amount. Blake saw it as a sign of the faith they had in Jaune, and the clout he had with many in the anomalous community.
It wasn't all, though. That would have been wishful thinking.
"I'll warn you all that any attempts on taking this from us will be met with lethal force. I have done my best to be honest and fair to you all. That will change if you seek to attack us." One or two more left, bottling under the pressure. Most of them stayed. "Blake," said Jaune. "We're leaving. Stay close."
They moved quickly and not for the central aisle. Winter had taken a back door, and that must have been another way out for actors and staff, so they headed that way, away from the audience. When they were off the stage and in a corridor, Jaune broke into a power-walk and Blake jogged to keep up with his long legs. They made it down a corridor, around a corner, then through a door and down another before running into someone. Several someone's. Two men flanked the small, elfin child with the silver crown on his head. There were another two men behind them with handguns out.
"Heavy is the Head," said Jaune, sighing regretfully. "I'll ask you not to do this. You have nothing to gain from this – even if the cure worked as they claimed, it would only turn you into an ornament. You would suffer the death of your mind."
"That is why I must," said the boy. His voice echoed and reverberated unnaturally, like four or five people speaking on top of one another, and in different languages. Blake understood it all the same, but her ears twitched at the strange tones. "What guarantee have I that ARC Corp will not synthesise this and force it upon us? Some might enjoy the chance to masquerade as human, but for those of us who have minds but no bodies you would doom us to cold eternity."
Jaune shook his shoulder and let his sword slide around his back to his front. He touched the hilt. "I will be forced to use this."
"We need not come to blows. Use one of the vials on yourself. If it is false, I shall be content to let you go peacefully. If it is real, you benefit, and then you pour the other two onto the ground. Tell your relatives there was only one vial. Tell them the cure is gone."
Jaune gripped the hilt and drew lightly. Light began to sear out of it, and Blake had to squint her right eye shut to not be blinded by it. The men with sunglasses grunted despite the protection, and the child grimaced and looked away entirely.
"You do not have aura. This will end poorly for you, Arc."
"You'll be hunted down and killed by my family."
"I'll suffer a worse fate if you find a cure for what you call a disease, but what I call life." The boy looked past them, then, and chuckled. "And it would seem that I am not the only one." There was a creature behind them of grey sludge, an amorphous blob that moved in undulating waves. "I have no complaint if you use a second vial upon it, and even the third on another. I simply will not have you bring such a plague back to your masters to be mass-produced."
Jaune's eyes slid to her. He nodded briefly. That was all the warning she got before Crocea Mors was wrenched from its sheathe and the room was blasted with bright white light, not and searing, that had men and anomalies alike shrieking in pain, Blake had clenched her own eyes shut, and she threw herself forward, aura up, in front of Jaune and toward the gunmen in the hopes she could tank the shots that could very easily kill him. Her shoulder collided with one grown man and knocked him back, and two bullets bounced off her shoulder and stomach respectively, hitting like stones and bouncing off her aura. Blake didn't dare open her eyes because she could still feel the heat on her back that told her Crocea Mors was drawn and active.
The sound the blob-anomaly behind them made was as inhuman as would be expected of something without a functioning set of lungs. It hissed and bubbled and belched like a fetid swamp releasing pockets of gas. It also moved, and she heard the sound of its mass lurching forward and slapping wetly against the floor. Blake lashed out left and right at shoulder height, hoping for the best. She struck two people – hopefully neither of which was Jaune – and then lunged forward to tackle into a third. A hand grabbed her collar and yanked, and she was about to cut it off at the wrist before she heard Jaune grunt.
"It's me! Eyes open!"
Blake snapped them open in time to realise he'd sheathed his weapon. Behind them, the men were scrambling for their guns while the child screamed and pointed at them. Several shots struck her as they left, but she blocked them from reaching Jaune and he slammed a wooden door shut behind them. It gained several holes as the wood failed to live up to bullet, but Jaune threw his weight against a vending machine and toppled it over the entrance to buy them some time.
Only a little. Blake pushed him down and away as an insectoid leg pierced down toward his head. The monstrous creature with twelve legs was taller in person, its carapace touching the ceiling as it skittered forward and tried to stab at them. Jaune rolled and dodged away, while Blake drew Gambol Shroud and cut the closest leg off. It stumbled but caught itself on its remaining legs, hissed, and spewed a glob of liquid that she refused to be caught by. It sizzled on the marble floor behind her as she charged under it, lashing out to lop another leg off like she might a Grimm.
"Jaune, look out!"
Her partner leapt to his feet and slammed his sheathed sword into the face of another suited man – seemingly human. He twisted around and leaned back to avoid the business end of a knife, then locked his hand over the stabbing anomaly's elbow, trapped it against his side, headbutted the creature's pig-like head twice, and twisted his body to snap their arm like a dry twig. The knife fell and he kicked the anomaly back, forced to disengage as another, this one a giant, frothing man with arms covered with, or growing, barbed wire, leapt in.
Blake drove the insectoid anomaly back and stepped in to slash at the barbed-wire behemoth, sparking her blade off his skin before hopping away to place herself back to back with Jaune. In her other hand, the small wooden case with the vials remained clasped, and the focus of every single person there.
"So," gasped Blake, breathing picking up speed. "This is what Winter wanted to spark. Makes sense."
"We can't run," said Jaune. "If we do, and they chase us through the streets, then we'll be directly responsible for revealing anomalies to the public. There's no way we can keep all this hidden, even if we tried to claim they were just a selection of bizarre Semblances."
Yeah, there were Semblances and then there were literal blob monsters, huge insects, mutated people with animal heads, and all the other wild and wacky things she was seeing. Blake groaned as the vending machine blocking the door was pushed aside and the armed goons for the crown-anomaly came bumbling through, freezing briefly at the standoff in the main hall.
"What do we do then? Reason with them?"
"No." Jaune brought his free hand up to his mouth, but down on his white glove and slowly pulled it off. His hand, blackened and cracked and flowing with orange light, burnt and sizzled in the cool evening air. "We gave them an ultimatum and they rejected it. I gave them the chance to live peacefully in the city and they've rejected it." He let the glove fall, and then grunted as fire wreathed around his hand. "If we let this go then it sends a message to other anomalies that they can abuse the rules and get away with it. For the Containments Office to continue its policy of kindness, it must be cruel and send a message as to what happens when that kindness is taken advantage of."
Blake closed her eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh. It was good that many of the anomalies that had taken Jaune's message and left ahead of time. Blake had said in the past that the Fist Office's approach of genocide just wasn't right, but maybe there wasn't a perfect answer at all. The purely kind approach of Jaune's had led to this moment. The real answer lay somewhere in between. Kind when they could be, and ruthless when they could not.
"No one survives," declared Jaune. In that moment he reminded her of Adam, but she quickly dismissed the similarity. There was a difference between killing civilians and killing anomalies seeking to end your life. "Remember that, Blake. Even if they try and flee, we can't take mercy on them now they've chosen this. Or the problem will only get worse."
"I guess we'll be leaking to the media how there was a massacre here last night. Some story about a serial killer going at a bunch of people."
"It's tragic, but it is what it is. Bad people exist and the public will soon get over it. Well…" Jaune sighed and drew his sword. Bright, hot light washed over everyone, and even Jaune's face crackled and burnt under it. In fact, he had it worse than anyone because of how close to it he was. That didn't seem to bother him. "Let's set the scene."
Heavy is the Head is not the Relic of Choice by the way – if those even exist here. I suppose they very easily could, because they'd just be anomalous items, the same as any other. That crown one is perhaps most closely based on that mask-based SCP. 036, was it? I remember listening to vods about it a long time ago. Mmm. Some of those youtube vods where people voice over the SCP stuff is what I used to play when I wanted to fall asleep. Never actually gave me nightmares, but their voices would just be a low drone that put me to sleep. xD
Next Chapter: 13th March
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