The Hundred Reigns [Timeloop LitRPG]

“That is theft!” Simon protested, his angry words echoing through the alchemical shop. “That’s five times the usual price for the dose!”

“The acid you ask for is extremely dangerous,” the shopkeeper replied calmly. He seemed to have rehearsed this conversation in his head long before Simon crossed his establishment’s threshold. “I can’t sell it to anyone without safety guarantees.”

“Except I purchased similar reagents from you not too long ago at the normal price. Don’t tell me the market price for acid has multiplied since then?” Simon didn’t wait for an answer. “Or are you trying to rip me off?”

The man cleared his throat. “I have nothing against you, personally, Mr. Belias, but your employer… has a reputation. Dealing with you could threaten my livelihood. I’m already taking risks by even selling you those supplies.”

“How kind and generous of you, to agree to fill your pockets at our expense,” Simon snapped back, squinting. “Who told you whom I worked for? The Bert Trading Company?”

“I can’t say,” the shopkeeper replied, which all but confirmed Simon’s suspicions. “Now, if you won’t buy the reagents at the agreed price, then I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Simon grunted in annoyance, but took his leave. Besides the fact that Magda’s budget couldn’t sustain the purchase, he had no intention of being ripped off like this. He would return later under a Fiendmask in order to buy the ingredients at a normal price in disguise.

It had been almost a week since Simon settled in with Magda and Coil, during which they nearly completed the golem project. The slime-brain was of ‘acceptable’ quality, but the automaton required a heartcog and other elemental alchemical reagents to properly function. Coil had spent the last few days melding the critical component while sending his new apprentice out to fetch chemicals they couldn’t manufacture themselves.

However, someone—likely the figure whom Simon had caught a glimpse of earlier—had spread word of his allegiance to Coil to all shops across the city and blacklisted him. That particular alchemist was the only one even willing to sell him the supplies he required, albeit at inflated prices. The others had either lied about shortages or outright refused to conduct any business with him.

Simon was seriously considering paying a visit to the Bert Trading Company and teaching them a sharp lesson about not interfering with his affairs, but he decided to hold off for now. He could deal with petty sabotage and didn’t want to catch too much scrutiny. He would have to act if they escalated beyond that though, and he could start by capturing whoever had been spying on the estate.

The Cobweb had enough enemies that he could easily frame one of them for any… incident.

Simon completed his purchases under disguise and then returned home afterwards. His work had taken so much of his time he hadn’t yet visited all of Lampwick. He hoped to find a discreet warehouse or basement he could discreetly turn into a Dungeon, thus creating both a safehouse and a teleportation bridge allowing him to travel back and forth from Endymion as he pleased.

Thankfully, Magda had promised to show him around the city today. She was already waiting for him at Coil Futuristics’ front door, having replaced her fancy uniform for more normal clothes.

“I’m impressed; you bought everything for cheaper than I would have expected,” she complimented him upon inspecting the purchases. “I’ll drop them off in Jym’s workshop and then we’ll head out.”

“I take it he won’t be coming with us?” Simon guessed.

Magda chuckled. “Of course not. His work can’t wait.”

Figured. Jym Coil followed a rigid daily routine and only left his workshop to either feed the couple’s birds or wash himself thrice a day. He didn’t actually share a room with his wife and preferred to sleep in his bathtub so as not to waste time; his slumber rarely lasted more than two hours either way. Simon had never seen him show open affection for her, or much emotion for that matter. He behaved more like a machine than his own unfinished golem did.

Simon was starting to wonder if the two’s marriage only existed on paper. Theirs was among the strangest relationships he had seen yet.

Magda happily gave him a guided tour of the city, starting with its backstreets. He had expected something basic, but it was obvious Magda hadn’t had someone to talk to outside of work for a long time and was thus eager to share a lot of details. He learned that the local game parlor and tavern was a den of criminals, as he suspected; that the two local brothels had a rivalry and catered to different clientele, with the dirtier one being popular with the masses and the fancier one being visited by men of high society in disguise; that thieves paid the local gravekeeper to bury unregistered corpses; and most importantly, that the local sewers were a sprawling maze.

“The town’s founders stumbled upon some pre-Doom ruins when digging out the city’s canals, so they left plenty of underground quarries in their wake,” Magda explained. “Don’t get any ideas, though. Previous Crafters and archeologists looted anything of value decades ago. You’ll only find criminals, homeless people, monsters and rocks down there.”

“And lots of empty space.” There should be plenty of free real estate for a would-be Dungeon builder to use. “It must be a smuggler’s paradise.”

“And a pretty unsafe one, since many inventors and alchemists dump their waste down there. We've had a huge slime infestation problem since forever.” Simon winced at that, which Magda caught on. “What is it? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of an ooze jumping out of your toilet, are you?”

More like it brought bad memories, though Simon found it darkly humorous Lampwick already had slime-related issues before issuing his Edict. “Has that actually happened?”

“Who knows…” Magda teased him. “Let’s hope Jym’s living brain won’t find a mate downstairs.”

The upper parts of the city were far nicer and livelier than the backstreets, with Magda showing him around major landmarks like the opera house, the clock tower, the public gardens, the university—a large building which apparently served as Lampwick’s Academy equivalent—and the market street. Magda stayed away from the industrial quarter, since she didn’t want to approach Bert’s factories, but still gave Simon pointers on how to navigate it. This would help the day he decided to pay them a fiery visit.

Golems weren’t common in Lampwick, but still present. The city used them as workers to rivet metal panels and windows, handle steam pipe repairs, or carry heavy loads. However, the most common kind of automatons in the city were actually animated wooden puppets. Garishly colored or dressed and often vividly humanlike, some danced to the tune of puppeteers for the pleasure of crowds or played board games in the gardens. One of the most popular of them was dressed like a swordsman and exchanged blows with a duelist in front of an applauding crowd.

“What’s that?” Simon asked, slightly unnerved. While they amused children and onlookers, these machines reminded him of Bert’s true form.

“A specialized type of automaton created by Gulliver’s Puppeteers,” Magda explained. Simon recalled that Gulliver was the name of Muse’s actual capital further inland. “We usually call them Turks. They’re cheaper than golems and can be programmed to do delicate or advanced movements, from dancing to battle. As you can see, they’re a hit among entertainers.”

“You say they can imitate complex movements?” This piqued Simon’s curiosity. “Even Techniques?”

“Indeed. Duelists and military academies use these models as training dummies.”

That interested Simon. Having a training partner that wouldn’t ask questions would help him practice his Arrow-Snatcher and Lightning Hammer Techniques. Perhaps he could purchase one of these Turks, or craft one for his exact specifications.

“And what’s that?” Simon asked upon spotting a strange building near the opera house. It resembled some sort of inn with a black windmill on the roof and moving, wooden signs of dancers above the door.

“The Blackwind is the fanciest cabaret in town. Lampwick has plenty of them, but this one has the best dancers.” Magda winked at him. “You should take a girl there someday, it’s a very romantic place.”

Simon wasn’t particularly in the mood to find a girlfriend so soon after what happened with Anna, but he guessed he could at least visit the place one day. “Did you and Mr. Coil visit it together?”

“You can call him Jym, and yes, we did once. He hated the place, and I haven’t gone there since.” Magda sighed. “You don’t have to be polite with me. You aren’t the first to raise an eyebrow at our relationship.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“It’s just… with all due respect, you sound more like his caretaker than his wife.”

“Well, you’ve seen how he is,” Magda mused. “He’s more or less incapable of functioning outside of a lab. It’s like his parents dumped all of his stats into Intelligence at conception and put his Charisma at zero. I swear he’s a very sweet and generous person deep down.” She pointed at the nearby streetlights. “That’s how he expresses it.”

Simon blinked as he put two and two together. “He invented these lamps?”

“He did,” Magda replied proudly. “It displeased him that only some quarters could afford to brighten their streets at night, so he invented a new light-aligned manalith distribution system that could illuminate all of Lampwick for a fraction of the original cost. He’s the reason why the backstreets even have a few.”

“But the two of you should have gotten rich on such an invention, unless…” Simon scowled. “You were betrayed.”

“Yes,” Magda confirmed with an angry scowl. “My husband worked for the Bert Trading Company back then, and they cheated him out of both his patent and royalties. We took them to court over it, but we only received a tiny fraction of what he was owed as a settlement. Bert blacklisted us for the affront, and most of Muse’s high society closed its doors to us afterwards. Banks won’t invest in our projects, while private usurers only do so at exorbitant rates.”

Was there a single associate the Cobweb’s Weavers didn’t betray at one point or another? Simon guessed the Coil couple should probably count themselves lucky Bert settled on ruining them financially rather than wearing their skin, but the tale infuriated him all the same. If Magda’s story was true, then the couple ended up living in poverty because they dared to try and use their intellect to better the lives of others.

“Things have been difficult ever since, but we hang on,” Magda said. “While few of my husband’s inventions have practical applications, they keep drawing crowds during the Planetary Exposition, so we’re always guaranteed to have a stand there. We’ve also managed to licence a few patents and sell commissions to private collectors.”

“But that’s barely enough to cover your debts and usury rates,” Simon guessed. He knew from his experience with the Brand of Greed that debt usually found a way to spiral out of control.

“We just need one big successful project to reimburse the older loans, and then we’ll have the breathing room to bounce back,” Magda replied with optimism. “Hopefully I’ll manage to squeeze out a salary for you.”

“Your cooking is more than enough,” Simon replied sincerely. He actually liked the chickatrice egg omelettes, as rusty as they tasted. “Maybe I could help you find investors? I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

“Be my guest.” Magda smiled kindly. “You’re a good lad, Simon.”

She was very wrong about that, but Simon nodded politely. “Thank you. Out of curiosity, how did you meet him? Jym?”

“Almost right after he emigrated from Bujan. He came in on a refugee ship and the University agreed to take him in after seeing his prodigious intellect. I was studying there back then and helped him settle in.”

“Wait.” Simon put two and two together. “Did you two marry to ensure he could have a permanent residency after Bert cancelled his contract?”

“Yes, though I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t admire him. You’ve seen it for yourself.” There was a glimmer of genuine wonder in Magda’s eyes. “His mind, his intellect… he’s a genius whose creations will change the world. I’m fine making sacrifices for that.”

“He’s incredibly talented.” Though Simon was still convinced the man had a secret Crafter Vassal Class.

“He’s also incredible in bed when he’s in the mood to visit mine,” Magda felt the need to add. “It doesn’t happen often and takes a lot of pestering on my part, but it’s worth the wait.”

“Well, so long as you’re happy.”

“Yes…” Magda avoided his gaze. “Though I would be happier with a full bank account.”

“Don’t worry,” Simon reassured her, his smile all teeth. “We’ll manage.”

Simon had run a cult, a crime ring, and an empire in turn. He knew how money flowed.

Simon ventured out at night over the next few days, mostly to explore the sewers.

True to Magda’s warning, Lampwick had something of a vermin problem, though nothing rookie adventurers couldn’t deal with. He quickly dominated the local creatures with Unquestionable Ruler and set them out to find him an unexplored cave he could use as a Dungeon hideout. That hopefully shouldn’t take more than a few days.

He also began looking for a patsy patron to funnel money to Coil Futuristics. While Simon could have Shabram discretely fund them, it would be better to use a local rather than risk authorities connecting the money to Endymion’s Imperial Intelligence. Bert was bound to have made some powerful enemies and business rivals of his own, for envy and resentment were the wages of the powerful. There had to be someone who wouldn’t mind funding the Coil couple with the right… arguments.

His plan was simple: simplify one of Coil’s currently impractical inventions and mass-produce it through a license agreement. That should generate enough income to cover their loans, help the company afford better equipment, and in turn increase their chances of catching the Crafter’s interest. Jym and Magda would be grateful too.

Finally, he had ordered Shabram to investigate any trace of Jym Coil in Bujan. Endymion’s conquest of the island had caused a large loss in official records, but surely a natural genius like him ought to have left some trace of his existence. Simon wasn’t entirely convinced someone like him could operate without a Class, and he was strongly considering hiring the man on Endymion’s behalf in a future reign. If Muse couldn’t find ways to make use of the man’s intellect, Simon would gladly fill the void.

It beggared the mind that the Crafter hadn’t yet approached Coil for an apprenticeship, especially since they had nothing to fear from the Bert Trading Company. Something didn’t add up there.

“You stink,” Jym Coil said the moment Simon entered the laboratory for his shift. The man was already awake and working on his golem, a rickety construct of bronze plates with a slime-in-a-jar for a head and glass orbs for eyes. Its creator was repeating some hand movements, with the construct imitating them. “You should wash twice as often.”

Simon had bathed twice this morning. Hanging out with slimes clung to the skin. “I’m sorry. I was curious about pre-Doom ruins in the sewers and went to look for them.”

“You wasted your time. There is little of value to be found in the past when the future lies unexplored.” Jym Coil nodded to himself, with the golem mimicking him. “Aleph is ready.”

“Am I facing my replacement?” Simon inquired as he exchanged a ‘glance’ with the golem.

“Aleph will take care of fetching, carrying, cleaning, and tea-making for now. Very important, tea-making. You will be put to other tasks.” Jym Coil rose from his seat. “The Planetary Exposition will open on the 16th of Floreal, roughly five months from now. We must begin working on our projects immediately.”

Simon blinked. “Our projects?”

Coil gave him a puzzled look, as if he had said something profoundly stupid. “You are my apprentice. Of course you will have your own project to showcase at the Exposition.”

“What?” Simon hadn’t expected that. “I thought I was going to help you with your own Exposition project?”

“How would you learn anything of value that way?” Now his new mentor sounded truly confused. “You would merely learn to mimic another’s achievements, and the Crafter won’t pay much attention to you. Pick whatever you choose to work on and make it a reality.”

“But I don’t have any Class, let alone a crafting one,” Simon lied. “I can’t build anything worthy to be showcased at the Exposition.”

“It is only when you do not use a Class that one is capable of truly inventing something,” Jym Coil replied as continued to work while talking. “All Classes draw their knowledge from the Worldsoul’s pool of memories. The Crafter and its Vassals provide their users with information drawn from that collective knowledge.”

“So?”

“So the Crafter Class can only build what someone else created before them. You may improve on a given design with one of its Vassal Crestones, but you will never explore new paths or make a true discovery.” Coil studied a flask. “Where’s the progress in that?”

“But the Crafter has built many wonders,” Simon countered. “The manatrains, airships—”

“Pre-Doom civilizations pioneered the first and Endymion the second. The Crafter simply improved on their prototypes’ designs.” Coil poured some reagents into the flask. “This is the Class System’s trap. It incentivizes walking the same trodden paths without ever exploring new possibilities, encouraging its users to rest on their laurels. Crafter-type Class users mistake memorization for inspiration, and reproduction for innovation.”

“What about the Overlords?” Simon frowned. “Their Class is fueled by the Abyss rather than the Worldsoul, and they have built many things the Crafter hasn’t.”

“Interesting query.” Coil actually gave it a moment’s thought. “Hypothesis one would be that the Abyss has access to a separate pool of knowledge than the Worldsoul. Hypothesis two, the most likely, is that the Overlord represents corruption and its ‘innovations’ merely lie in twisting existing technology to nefarious aims. Hypothesis three is that the Overlord Class favors individuals with both a keen mind and a complete lack of ethics, a combination which would naturally yield unusual—if deeply deplorable—breakthroughs.”

Simon pondered the matter. The Abyss existed outside causality, so Coil’s first guess might still apply; the Overlord could draw knowledge from more than one timeline and could recall long-erased ideas. Technology was bound to have changed wildly from one reign to the next.

Coil’s words gave Simon pause. He had always assumed his own experiments with soulforged or cursed items were his own innovations helped along by Devil Forgemaster, but if his new mentor was right, then he was merely reproducing or improving designs from his predecessors or other wicked souls. He could be falling into the same trap Leonard warned him about all those reigns ago when he encouraged him to practice swordsmanship beyond what his Class’ proficiencies would teach him.

Following that trail of thought meant that consuming the Crafter Class wouldn’t allow Simon to craft anything as Gargauth once believed, but rather everything that had already been invented. That alone would be a sizable and colossal advantage on its own, yet limited in its own way too.

The Oracle had centuries to prepare and access to the Worldsoul’s pool of knowledge, Simon thought. She probably has countermeasures for everything. The only things that could take her aback is information hidden from her, or which has yet to exist in this timeline.

“And how does one learn to craft something new?” Simon inquired.

“Experiment and do what no one else has done before. Always be curious, never assume anything, and test every hypothesis, no matter how unusual.” Jym Coil put his finished mixture on a shelf. “Knowledge is having memorized an answer. Efficiency is making the best use of it. Intelligence is being capable of adapting when the answer doesn’t exist yet. You can acquire knowledge on your own, you will pick up efficiency with practice, but few ever improve their intelligence. That is all I can teach you.”

That was a very unorthodox approach to mentorship, but one that appealed to Simon. Coil had a point in that Devil Forgemaster already provided existing knowledge, so he might as well test hypotheses outside what his Perks could already provide.

“I’ll try to think of a project of my own, sir,” Simon said. “Have you chosen yours?”

“Lightning,” Coil replied absentmindedly. “Lightning in a bottle.”