God of Trash

Once more, Rhys mounted his skeleton warrior. The skeleton was a little larger now, and faster, what with the extra bone he could use to make a more complete projection. Sable perched on its shoulder, while he lounged in its arms. It was just too comfortable down there. Plus, it was his skeleton! Of course he got the best seat. It’d be crazy to hand it over to a random person.

Internally, Rhys considered ways to make his travel even more comfortable. He could string a hammock between its arms, but that might sway too much. Maybe if he had it carry a throne? That would look cool as hell, but the ride might be a bit too bumpy. Hmm. He wanted maximum comfort, not maximum aesthetic. Now that he’d discovered what it was to travel in comfort, he couldn’t go back. He needed something soft, something that would absorb the blows of the road. A big soft cushion, or maybe a big fat beanbag chair?

A memory floated to the top of his mind. Once, he’d gone over to a friend’s house as a child and discovered that they slept on, not an ordinary bed, but a bed-sized beanbag chair. He’d sunk into the beany depths, hugged by the form-fitting softness of the beanbag bed, and almost passed out right there, it was so soft and comfortable. That was what he needed: a beanbag bed chair! He could see it right now, the absolute dominance of rolling up on his enemies, being carried by a skeleton in a big fat beanbag chair, while he lounged, casually crunching on some chips and sipping some soda… which was something he had to get a move on.

Soda ruled the world in his original world. Human beings would do anything to suck on some interesting sugar water. Soda, too, might actually be an easier sell to mages, who were not used to eating, but were used to drinking potions. Rhys pinched his chin, moving on to his next great idea. Yes, that would be it: soda. Soda was the next junk food on his agenda. Potato chips he could probably sell to the youth, trick them into poisoning themselves, but adults would be more wary. Sugared potions, aka sodas, would be the way to get adult mages.

He did have a large quantity of sugar back at the hideout, and thanks to Lira, a basically endless quantity of pure water. What he needed was some method of carbonation. Bubbles were essential to the soda experience; otherwise, it was just brown fruit juice. As for what to put in it, he could start simple, by making it a delicious health potion, then expand to mana potions and other potions. He didn’t want to overuse his enlightenment imbuement techniques, since the mages would get wise to them eventually if he hammered them out there, but surely there was something else he could put in the potions to lure them to keep drinking. After all, there was a certain cola brand that had started from a flavored cocaine drink, and potions were meant to enhance the body in some way or another; he could slip addictive enhancers in there without anyone questioning him too deeply. Sugar was itself addictive, too, so it didn’t hurt to put maximum sugar into the potions, too.

He would have to investigate the Empire’s drug laws, assuming there were such things, though he suspected the answer was no, and that it was just that addictive potions were considered low-quality and not worth consuming. He twisted his lips. That was the other thing; mages were used to drinking potions, yes, but they also had high standards. If his drinks were outright addictive, using known addictive substances, then they’d get rejected by the mages. No, I think the better play is to make good potions, then load them up with sugar. Rather than having to seek out addictive substances, his supply chain would be simpler, and the simple addiction loop of sugar would be way easier to trap people in than a more obvious addiction loop. How many people in his world would say they weren’t addicted to sugar, after all, but refuse to drink anything but sodas? Caffeine was also an option, he supposed, but compared to magical herbs, it wouldn’t have as positive or strong an effect. Magical herbs that were non-addictive but served as stimulants, that was the sweet spot. They wouldn’t get auto-rejected by the snobbish mages for being ‘low quality’ addictive potions, but nonetheless, they would have the same addiction loops as any stimulant did, whether the substance itself was addictive or not.

He nodded. Yes, that was the angle. Not going so far that only degenerates would reach for the filth, but nailing that everyday garbage that everyone could appreciate, degenerate or not. True degenerate trash was fun, and sometimes he’d go there, but when he was trying to sell a product to the mass market, he had to restrain himself and keep things reasonable, with just enough garbage that it would slip past the average person’s filter without feeling scammy. After all, although he appreciated true degenerate filth, only degenerates would reach for it, which made it less trash than the truest form of trash: the overly processed mass market garbage that was palatable to everyone yet insidiously dangerous, that would shorten one’s lifespan in a gentle, delicious way, to the extent that the drinkers would make excuses to keep drinking, but not get pressured by their peers to stop.

He also wanted to try his hand at alcohol, but soda was more prolific. Truthfully, he knew that tea and coffee outpaced soda back on his home world, and even fruit juice outpaced soda, but given that fruit juice, tea, and coffee were one, not trash, and two, required good ingredients to actually taste good, he’d rather stick with soda. Plus, he was pretty sure fruit juice ranked higher than soda because of health initiatives and incentives, plus crazy health-conscious parents feeding their delicate, precious children who couldn’t possibly eat anything unhealthy, except those chickie nuggies that were the only solid food they’d eat. If people were just allowed to drink whatever, who’d reach for an apple juice over a delicious soft drink?

In any case, it was irrelevant; only soda qualified as junk food, and therefore trash. For all his pondering, though, he still didn’t have a source for carbon dioxide. Sodas were carbonated drinks, and that was an absolute requirement, as far as he was concerned. In his world, carbon dioxide would be gathered from somewhere, perhaps the fermentation of beer, or created via chemical processes, then injected into the soda, but carbon dioxide existed all around them right now. In fact, it could be considered a discarded product of the body’s oxygenation processes—that is, trash. He pinched his chin. Was it possible to use Trash Manipulation to gather expelled carbon dioxide, then inject it into water as if it was from a pressurized container, therefore carbonating the water? It sounded possible, and he’d used Trash Manipulation on smoke before, but using it to separate a gas from the natural composition of air sounded far more difficult than that. Still, it sounded like a path ahead, and something to try once he got home.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sable commented.

“I was thinking about things,” Rhys said. He stretched and slightly adjusted his position for optimal lounging, tilting his head back to look at her. “Why? There something you want to talk about?”

“No, just… Last time we met, we were enemies. Now you’re inviting me back to your hideout with no reservations. It’s a little crazy to me.”