Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter 653: Beware of contracts

Weslin leans forward and cracks his neck. “Alright, listen up. The Primordial Knights arenʼt assholes like some of the other guilds, but they’re not a charity either. Their standard contract isn’t a straight-up trap, but there are things you really don’t want to gloss over.”

“Like what?”

“First, the duration. On the surface, it’ll say one year. Standard stuff. But you’ll probably find a clause for auto-renewal unless you cancel with a full thirty-day notice before the term ends.”

“That’s fine. I can read a calendar.”

“Want me to congratulate you?” he snorts. ”Sure, but that clause could also be locked behind performance incentives. You hit those bonuses, and suddenly the contract extends by three months automatically, ‘to maintain stability.’ Which sounds great until you realize it stacks and resets the renewal window.”

“What does that even mean?”

“No idea, but I was warned about it before signing my own contract, so ask them to remove it.”

“Okay.”

Weslin sighs. “Second thing. Your salary in shards. It’s solid on paper, a monthly base rate, usually tied to floor, role, performance, blah blah. Yours will be higher than average because of the whole whatever-that-black-mana-bullshit-actually-is package. But again, read the fine print. They’ll say bonuses are performance-based, but they donʼt define performance either.”

“Can I hire someone to do it instead of me? I can pay.”

“Probably? But then that person is probably going to want a cut of your salary.”

”Noted.”

“Good. Now for the exit clauses. The contract will say you can leave at any time. What it won’t say up front is that there’s a cooldown period before you can join any of the other guilds. Sixty days, no exceptions. Or if you get too good a salary, the contract might straight up try to make it impossible for you to leave.”

”Didnʼt you just say the Primordial Knights weren’t assholes?”

“You should see the contracts Bloodline gives to their best. The salary and other stuff are insane, but damn, I would rather be thrown to Cinderbear as a level 1 than break it,” Weslin mutters. “Another trap, they’ll give you access to some good stuff. Class information, guild-wide skill libraries, exclusive training lessons from some of the A ranks we have, and some other stuff. But it comes with a Knowledge Lock clause.”

“I figured. ”

“Means anything you learn through their resources can’t be taught, sold, or shared without explicit permission, even after you leave.”

I stretch my shoulders. “Any upside?”

“Plenty. Resources, information, guild quests, teammates you know won’t stab your back for an upper epic item, access to the guild crafters, training rooms, sparring arenas. Not to mention our item vault, they might loan, gift, or sell items that work really well with your primordial energies. Iʼm also sure you can imagine how much knowledge our library and members have on primordial energies, you wonʼt find anyone better for that in Beyond.”

“Tempting,” I agree with Weslin.

I still think of myself as someone who specializes more in mana, and that’s something I want to explore on my own, maybe slowly, but I’ll go about it my own way.

Itʼs not the way I look at Primordial energies, so some information would be nice. At least when it comes to thermal. I donʼt think they have anyone better than Lioren was when it comes to using kinetic energy. Even now, thereʼs so much Iʼm trying to absorb and practise. The sort of things Lioren was able to do as easily as breathing.

That asshole of a demon was truly something else.

“Any exclusivity stuff in there?” I ask.

Weslin nods. “Yeah. You can’t work for other guilds or groups without clearance. And if you pick a fight outside of approved missions, you take the blame, not the guild.”

“So they’ll disavow me if I torch the wrong feylith?”

“Only if you do it publicly,” Weslin says with a bright smile. “Keep it clean, and usually the guilds will pretend they didn’t see. Of course, that might change if a guild starts losing important members and stuff, but donʼt worry about that newbie, unless it’s something truly outrageous, Nyssa and the others don’t give a damn. They’ll happily fight it out with other guilds, even if they’re one of the top five.”

”Weslin, why am I starting to think the Primordial Knights are a lot messier than they look?”

“Newbie, our guild master’s a demon, most of her party are demons, and out of every guild in Beyond, we’ve got the highest number of demons as members. Did you really think we were gonna be normal? As annoying as that can be, we’re probably the last guild anyone wants to mess with.”

As he cackles, I just stare at him.

When he seems to be done, I ask, “Any personal clause I should try to negotiate into the contract?”

“Yeah,” he says, suddenly serious. “Get a personal exemption clause. I think thatʼs what they call it. It’s for these explory examiny types like you. Just a line that says your independent research is your own business, not the guild’s. You’ve got a weird brain, magic, or skill? They’ll want to study it. Make sure the contract says anything you develop yourself stays yours. With your black mana thing, it might be a bit more difficult, but you should agree, just ask for a lot in return. You might learn something useful about it, too.”

Taking a deep breath, he checks to make sure I’m listening and then fires out.

“Look for clauses that say they can relocate you to another floor without warning sould the leadership decide it has a strategic advantage, the one that lets them use your combat recordings in training or promotions without credit or pay, promotion rights clauses that include your name, likeness, even your damn voice, automatic housing fees whether you stay in guild facilities, training waivers that void all liability sould you break something in sparring even if it’s their fault, priority reassignment clauses that let them pull you out of a guild quest mid-run to cover someone else’s mess, non disparagement rules so vague you can get fined for calling someone important a bitch, limits on out of guild quests that could keep you from being able to take shard work outside the guild, mandatory participation in guild events or public appearances for the sake of ‘building a positive image,’ medical clause exclusions for any difficult to heal wound earned under ‘reckless’ judgment - oh, thatʼs me for example, I will need some specialized healing to deal with what Luan did, but it also could be anything from soloing a room too fast to jumping into a fight during guild events without asking first, data rights giving them access to your system logs or mana reports for the purpose of ‘guild optimization,’ clauses that let squad leaders override your combat decisions mid fight and still try to hold you accountable if it should fail, item use restrictions that stop you from using guild loaned gear during personal time, late return penalties if you show up more than a day late to report in, even with reason, shard docking for gear maintenance you didn’t request, and sometimes, they’ll try to sneak in permissions to simulate your combat style for testing or sparring constructs.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

”You remembered all that shit?”

Weslin looks a little too proud of himself. ”You have no fucking idea how many times I’ve had to say that to other rookies. But there is one more thing, the most important one.”

He looks at me to make sure I pay attention.

“The thing is, Primordial Knights being run by a bunch of lunatics also means they don’t really care if you break half that crap. Sure, the contract says they’ve got the right to push it, and sometimes they will try, but if you manage to fight them off, they usually drop it.”

”Fight them off?!”

”Anyway, I’m tired. Get some rest. I’m almost fully healed, so they won’t make fun of me, and we can head over to the Black Tower soon.”

He walks away, and I wonder if he was just messing with me, maybe most of the things he mentioned aren’t worth worrying about. I just need to… fight them off?

What a guild.

I turn inward, slipping into my mind space.

(Sophie, there are some things I need to tell you about the contract and stuff. You’ll need to remember them before I forget.)

Reaching the Black Tower only takes us a few hours, and as it comes into view in the distance, I send a call ringing through my mental space.

(Yo, look,) I say to the intruder in my mind.

With a groan, Sophie awakens, and I allow her to look through my eyes.

There, nestled between two mountains, lies the biggest safe zone we’ve seen so far. As Weslin said, it probably holds somewhere around ten thousand people, locals and natives. It’s built in a mostly circular shape with multiple levels. Each level is slightly different, with the inner ones having taller buildings and seemingly better defenses. And at the center of it all stands the eponymous tower.

It’s not even close to the size of the one from the third city on the second floor, but it’s still pretty tall. This one is made of some smooth black material, with a stairway coiling around the outside. There are barely any windows or visible entrances, or anything of that kind.

Weslin notices where I’m looking and says, “Yeah, that belongs to this tower’s master. He’s one of the oldest on this floor, and not once has this place lost its status as a safe zone.”

“Because he killed everyone who took them over the permitted number?”

“That, or forced them out of the city.”

“Isn’t that the same, from what you told me?”

“Close. But if you’re lucky, very powerful and lucky, or good at hiding, you can survive the night. Or if you join some of the bigger parties that sometimes go on hunts for materials. But even then, try not to stay out so long that you catch the attention of anything too scary.”

“The same rules apply for this safe zone as well?”

“Obviously. These rules are older than most existing guilds. As cruel as they might be, they’re necessary.”

“I guess. Do you think there will be free spots for us?”

“We’ll see.”

“See?”

“Yup.”

“So you don’t know for sure?”

“I’m confident there will be some, but if not, we’d better hurry to the other safe zones they point out.”

(Nat, I don’t like this guy.)

(He’s not that bad.) I defend him.

Then I turn to Weslin. “So, doesn’t that mean we should hurry?”

“It’s fine,” he waves it off.

I follow him at the relaxed pace he keeps, and like that, we enter the city. Right away, I check the notification.

Welcome to the safe zone!

Current number of people: 9,766 / 10,000

“Please, this way,” a man appears in front of us as we pass the gate.

Weslin follows him, and I go behind him. We reach a mana stone embedded in the wall, and Weslin touches it briefly. I do the same after him.

It doesn’t place a mark on me, but it does take a bit of my mana.

“It’s your first time here, I see,” the man says after checking the mana stone in his hands. “This device serves as registration in case the city limit is exceeded and we have to decide who has the right to stay.”

What a nice way to put it into words.

The guard then turns to Weslin. “Welcome to the Black Tower, Sir Weslin. Can I assume the two of you are here together?”

“Yes. He’s here to join the Primordial Knights.”

“Understood. May I know how long you plan to stay?”

”My stay token ends in three days, and then I’ll return here after another week in my tutorial. He will likely stay a week or two before they decide what exactly to do with him.”

“In that case, I’ll register him as a long term visitor and include his presence in the calculations we share with the other safe zones.”

“Sure. Is that all?”

“Yes. Thank you for your patience.”

Waving him off, Weslin leaves and heads into the city without hesitation.

I observe the buildings along the way. Even though it’s “just” ten thousand people, it seems more than enough with how densely packed this place is. People are moving around with the same sense of urgency attendees usually have. Stay tokens have limited durations, after all.

“What percent of the people here are locals?” I ask. “And don’t say you don’t know because you don’t care.”

“Even I can remember that, you little shit. According to the latest statistics, the Black Tower has almost four thousand locals living here on a permanent basis, so quite a few, all told. It’s dangerous here, but the larger zones are safer, and the opportunities are equally as great as the danger. Outside the really big safe zones, this one is likely one of the safest.”

“How many safe zones are there? And how many attendees are there on this floor?”

“Are you trying to estimate how many tutorials are going on at once?”

“Yes.”

“Well, good fucking luck. This floor is enormous, and I don’t think anyone knows for sure.”

“But the second floor had only three safe zones. Even though they were big and each one had a few hundred thousand attendees…”

He interrupts me. “Three safe zones we know about.”

I sense Sophie becoming more attentive to what Weslin says.

“There are more?” I ask.

“Some people surely think so, but others strongly disagree. A few of the Handlers might know, but those assholes like to stay tight lipped. Anyway, we’re heading to the local Branch of the Primordial Knights now. You can start asking them instead of me, if only so they know what poor ol’ me went through. And don’t forget my warning about the contracts, and try to act somewhat normal. And be careful, the Doc might be there. He’ll hold himself back if you’re a guild member, but he can be... well, you’ll see.”

(I bet you and the Doc will end up being the best of friends, from what I’ve heard so far.) Sophie mumbles before disconnecting again, fading back into my mental space.

It’s too late to respond to such slander, so I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear it.