Museum Core Chapter 82: Serendipity

“So, how are you going to convince them to let you harvest the anchor monsters, exactly?” Elias asked. 

“I’m going to make it look like it’s not what I’m after, and I’m going to bribe them,” Thomas sent along with the mental impression of a shrug. 

“And let’s for the sake argument, assume that somewhere in the chain of command there is some jackass who wants to cut down the payment just so that they can say they successfully negotiated, and they cut the thing you want? What then?”

That was a good point, unfortunately. But it was also a highly predictable problem, which had made it easy for Thomas to come up with a way around it. 

“I mean, there’s nothing ‘hypothetical’ about people like that, but we’ve met plenty of reasonable people in the BPA, haven’t we?” Thomas offered. “We ask them about any potential issues in their chain of command, and if needed, I’ll give them a longer list where cuts can be made.” 

“That’s a lot of trust to put into people we’ve only met a few times,” Elias pointed out. “If they pass that along ...”

“Their lives are literally in my hands every time they step into the dungeon, and I know for a fact that the Worldstrider Tribe has told them just how lucky they are to have a dungeon willing to play ball. 

“I know there are all the jokes about how common sense isn’t common, and I’m not going to assume that every random person I meet is going to be perfectly rational, in fact, I usually assume the opposite, but we know these people. They ain’t dumb.” 

Elias shrugged. “I guess that Director Frye would have probably reacted very differently to your ‘this is going to sound evil but really isn’t’ speech if he weren’t capable of looking at things objectively.”

Then the fairy leaned forward with a big grin. 

“So, what are you going to be giving them in exchange?” 

Yeah, they both loved creating magical artifacts. It was always fascinating and the end result was … well, literally magical. 

“I was thinking mostly weapons. Variable-mass armor and melee weapons, some elemental protection amulets if they know what they’re going to be facing, more temporary summoning totems than they can carry. Start out with a generous offer, then tack on more as necessary,” Thomas replied. “Can you help me with the phrasing?” 

“Sure,” Elias grumbled. Messing around with the fundamental forces of reality was fun. Trying to write a letter with a pen as big as he was because he had the best handwriting of all the beings in the dungeon ... wasn’t. 

Oh … typewriter. That’s what they needed. 

***

“And you’re sure we need to pull Daedalus in on this?” 

The man who’d spoken was new to her; Jaclyn had only met him literally when this meeting had started. 

Brigadier Green was the BPA’s military liaison, appointed in expectation for them to potentially act outside the borders of the United Kingdom. And he was just getting his feet under him. And also had about twice his body weight in background information to read, at least if it had actually been printed out, rather than digital. Considering that the man was a full head taller than her and built like a tank, that said a lot. 

“Based on where we found Alaxia’s layer, anchor beasts are always at the dead center of a transformation zone,” Nicole pointed out. “We’re talking about an area bigger than most nations, an area the British Isles could fit into at least five times over, made up of one of the hardest traverse terrains in the world that isn’t actively trying to kill you, completely devoid of navigational markers or anything else people could use to orient themselves by. 

“Going through all that with just WW 2-era  technology would take months. Right now, the best idea the boffins have come up with for a quick entry involves parachuting down from a stratospheric aircraft beyond the reach of the technology-disrupting field, and then setting up some kind of hot air balloon or the like to reascend until they can somehow be picked up, but most of that would have to be designed from scratch. 

“But even assuming all of that would work as advertised, neither Granger nor Henderson are qualified for that kind of skydiving.” 

Green grimaced, clearly at least a little embarrassed. He should have known that, but there were so many things that he had to learn and so little time to learn them in that it was no wonder that his knowledge had significant gaps. As long as they were closed soon, though, things should be fine. 

But then he gave Jaclyn an appreciative glance. 

“You’re qualified, ma’am? Impressive.”

Frye managed to keep a straight face, Nicole cut her own laugh off, disguising it with a strangled cough, but Jaclyn decided to just set the record immediately straight. 

“No,” she shook her head. “But I can fly. It doesn’t matter how I fall from, eventually, the air’s going to be dense enough for me to fly in.”

Or at least slow herself to the point where her velocity at the moment of kissing pavement was survivable. 

“Oh ...” Green looked abashed. 

Jaclyn felt sorry for the situation he’d been put in. This was at least partially a military matter, so he needed to be involved in some capacity, but at the same time, this was far too early for him to be sitting in on this; he simply hadn’t had the time to gain the necessary knowledge. 

“Anyway, as you know, the current plan is to dispatch the aircraft carrier Prince of Wales with proper escorts and a troop transport to the transformation area once a sufficient force has been assembled and equipped,” Frye said. “Assuming everyone’s growth stays constant, it’ll take at least eight months to reach a point where I can be confident that they’ll be able to reach the center of the transformation zone, but fighting the anchor beast is an entirely different issue. 

“If magical artifacts can be gained, they might be able to make up the difference.”

What Frye wasn’t saying was just how much of a reach that deadline was. Yes, data from both the transformation zone and the knowledge of the Worldstrider tribe said that creatures above D-Rank tended to be extremely rare, but that didn’t mean there were none. And if they did exist, they’d likely be in the area around “the Hunger,” whatever that wound up being. 

“The real questions are what can Daedalus give us, and what can we pay him?” Frye threw into the group. 

To be honest, this was a real “what do you get a man who has everything” kind of issue, except that in this case, a heartfelt gesture, home-cooked meal, or a roll in the hay weren’t acceptable substitutions for a physical gift. 

In addition, once Daedalus had something, he’d never, ever, need another instance of the same thing. And it wasn’t like he needed a complete catalog of everything, every single creature under the sun; he just needed the things he actually found interesting and didn’t already possess. 

And that was a short list. The Natural History Museum had been chock-full of cool animals, and they were giving him several more creatures in exchange for the current round of power leveling. It had gotten to the point where she actually had to look up many of the things he was asking for, they’d long since left the area of “commonly considered to be cool.” Which meant that most of the obvious picks had been used up a while ago.  

A few different dinosaurs, “ice age” creatures that didn’t necessarily have anything to do with ice and snow … they’d already given him all of those, and the final piece of payment was going to arrive once the transport logistics were done. 

Obviously, another possibility was the heart of the snake she’d killed in the Pacific, but would that really be enough to pay for everything? What else?

Parts of the anchor monster were a given, obviously. Perhaps parts of any anchor monster they killed going forward. 

But once again, would that suffice?

No, single-use payments, even if they worked now, wouldn’t work forever. 

So, what did a dungeon core need … Jaclyn facepalmed, then spoke. 

“He needs delvers.” 

“Well, obviously,” Frye said. “Are you suggesting we start ramping up our delves? That seems … we could build a road, couldn’t we?” 

He turned to Nicole. “How long would it take to build a reasonably secure path to the Natural History Museum?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘reasonably secured,’” she responded after a couple of seconds. “We could have the trees for a wide road cleared in about a week, and compact the dirt to the point where it’ll serve … oh, another week or two. But building an actual road is going to take months, even longer if we want to add walls. As for actually making sure nothing will happen? We’d have to clear the entire jungle for that, and it’d take years.” 

“But we can promise to make that happen, and get started on it now,” Jaclyn pointed out. “He might be willing to help in exchange for a contract that we’ll finish it.” 

However, they also needed to know what they’d ask for. This … this would take a while. 

***

This time around, Jaclyn was driving herself towards the jungle. Having someone else at the wheel allowed her to do work during the journey, but she’d spent enough time being chauffeured around in recent times. Only being able to speak, or speak with her fists when shit hit the fan … there was more to life than that. 

Even if it wasn’t “efficient,” sitting in the driver’s seat felt like it put her in control of her own life. It didn’t matter that she’d never even lost it in the first place, but it still felt good. 

And the radio was tuned to a station she normally couldn’t listen to, because Eve really hated it. But right now, she was alone, and the pounding bass would break the car’s speakers before it ever gave her hearing damage, so she’d cranked it up.

But a couple of seconds after she’d started to sing along, the music cut off as the incoming phone call was automatically patched through the car’s sound system. 

“Deputy Director Abrams?” 

“Yes,” she replied. 

“Daedalus’ monkey avatar is here, he wants to talk to you. Also …” the caller’s voice trailed off, most likely listening to the monkey standing there with him. 

Jaclyn checked her satnav. 

“Actually, can you ask him if this can wait a bit? I’m literally two minutes away,” she said. 

There was silence on the other end of the line for a couple of seconds, then she got her response. 

“He says that’ll work.” 

“Thank you,” Jaclyn said and hung up. 

And not even a hundred and twenty seconds later, her car stopped in the parking spot marked for the BPA and she hopped out, then rapidly proceeded to the gate into the jungle where, as expected, she was greeted by the familiar spider monkey with the white tuxedo pattern on his chest, fedora on his head, and fanny pack slung across his torso. 

“I was just coming to see you,” she called out, raising a hand in greeting, waving the folder with the proposal. 

“Well, that works, out nicely, doesn’t it?” Daedalus grinned, something that was made almost menacing by the needle-like qualities of its fangs, which were partially exposed. 

“Let’s hope so,” Jaclyn said. “We actually set up a conference room in one of the containers, or would you rather do this in the dungeon?” 

“Meeting room works,” the monkey shrugged, and five minutes later, they were sitting across from each other. 

Her, in a leather armchair that looked like it had been taken out of a gentleman’s club. Actually, come to think of it, that was likely exactly where it was from. 

And him, in the most dignified highchair she’d ever seen, all hardwood and silver embossings, entirely free of the things that normally made those things safe for young children. Not something she’d have ever let Eve sit in, when it came to children, practicality trumped all, but she had to admit, it looked nice. The fact that it put them at eye level without Daedalus’ avatar having to sit on the table was good, too.

“We’re planning on taking out the anchor beasts in at least one transformation zone, will most likely be going after the others too, and would appreciate your support in that,” Jaclyn offered, sliding the folder across the table. “While we don’t have a complete overview of your ability to create magical artifacts, I believe a series of healing potions and gear similar to what was provided to help us defeat Alaxia would be immensely helpful. 

“In exchange, we …” 

She trailed off when she noticed the monkey surreptitiously sliding a folded piece of paper back into its bag. 

Should she ask? 

They stared at each other for a long moment, each not sure how to act. Daedalus had clearly realized why she’d stopped, and she felt like she couldn’t keep going after stopping so pointedly in response to his action. 

After perhaps twenty seconds, Daedalus broke. Or at least spoke first. 

“I … I believe I can accommodate you,” he said, tone stilted, hands folded on the table as though to imitate some master negotiator from TV, though she had no earthly idea where he’d have known the concept from. 

This time, the period of silence only lasted five seconds before he continued, in a more natural tone this time. 

“Giving you the gear again is easy, but let’s talk about what you want beyond that. Potions, obviously. Survival gear, maybe? But you’ll have to give me some to model the artifacts on because the newest camping gear I have is older than … well, it’s over a hundred years old, that’s what I’m trying to say. As for how much you can get beyond that, it’ll really depend on what kind of things you want, need, and where you have to go. 

“So, what’s your target?” 

Huh, this was going shockingly well. 

Jaclyn grinned internally, but only gave Daedalus a slight smile. 

“We’re looking for the anchor beast of the Manatee Grove transformation zone, but all we know of it is that it’s called ‘the Hunger’. But we might have to go deal with others as well. 

“In exchange, we are prepared to build a new road to facilitate quick travel to your dungeon, and your choice of materials from the transformation zone. Also …” she reached into the bag she’d brought with her and retrieved a clear plastic box containing a medicine ball-sized heart.  

“… the heart of a D-Rank snake. A gesture of good faith.”

Seeing a spider monkey grin was a disturbing experience. They looked so cute normally, when they had their mouths closed, but the instant they opened up, they revealed a mouth filled with fangs that looked like they were meant to wind up embedded in her throat the moment it stopped caring to act civilized. 

Jaclyn swallowed. Weird thought. 

But, after ten or so seconds, the monkey pushed the heart to the side so that they could actually look each other in the face again without plastic in the way. 

“My choice of materials on top of everything else, you say?” 

Another grin. 

“A very open-ended offer, but I already made the list, and adding to it just feels petty. And if you have any superiors you need to report to that you were able to negotiate me down, I did prepare an expanded list. But I need everything on the first one.” 

With that, Daedalus slid the piece of paper he’d been about to hide earlier across the table. 

“Can I have the other one, just in case I need it?” Jaclyn asked, and immediately received it. 

He was right, it could come in handy. But if she ended up using it, it would say truly terrible things about the BPA’s bureaucracy. 

“So, just to sum it up: we get magical gear, you get material rewards, and a road. Do I have that right?”

“Actually …” Daedalus began, then trailed off into nothingness. 

***

Oh, why had he opened his stupid mouth? 

Damnit, Thomas should have just agreed, shut up, and brought it up later. But now, he’d stepped in it, and needed to actually get himself out of this situation. 

“Let me put it like this: another merge is likely incoming, and if things aren’t wrapped up by then, it’ll probably get a lot worse.”

That was a reasonably good way to put that, right? 

… except he’d eventually wind up creating and using the vortex controller, and if someone figured out he’d severely misled everyone as to why he wanted the anchor beast hearts, it would severely damage his integrity. Something that would be made all the worse with how much he’d been harping on about how he’d never screw over the government of the United Kingdom since there was no short term gain worth the long term cost. 

But if he shared that information, he’d either simply be shifting the burden onto the Deputy Director, or playing with open cards and he knew that there was very little chance of humanity deciding to save itself in what little time it had remaining. 

So … middle ground?

“Here’s the thing: I have a plan, but I need some parts, which I can find in the various transformation zones. Not just one, but multiple anchor beasts are going to have to die. 

“I’ll sign contracts, feel free to add whatever ‘I solemnly swear this won’t bite you in the ass, to the best of my knowledge’ clauses you can come up with, but I need those materials, soon.” 

Had he revealed too much of his hand, left himself open, handed over too much negotiating power? 

But while his trust in strangers, in any random selection of people, and especially the kinds of people who wound up running governments was non-existent, he was talking with one specific person who, just like him, had a very strong desire to keep the world intact. 

Stronger, in fact, since she still had a family, unlike him. Including a daughter whom she did not want to find out about all the cool pets her mother could have theoretically gained if she hadn’t handed over all those summoning tokens to the BPA. 

Thomas had been tempted to make that information get out in some way or other, but decided that was overly and unnecessarily cruel. 

Instead of pushing for more artifacts, or letting herself be distracted in an existential rabbithole of dread, Abrams just asked for clarification. 

“How long, and how sure are you?” 

Of course, it would be easiest if the whole thing were to just be a glitch, though. An artifact reading created by the anomalous merge. Just like how that Bloodline Detector he’d found in Alaxia’s layer got extremely confused by the existence of Anima Monks and declared them to have the bloodline of whatever their bond(s) were. 

Once could have been an astronomical coincidence. Twice … to paraphrase an old James Bond novel, twice could be happenstance. But everyone? For the only Earth natives with a bloodline to be those with the Anima Monk Class, and those bloodlines to match their bonds … at that point, the probability was so low that anyone who wasn’t a statistician would likely just throw their hands up and declare it impossible. 

But quite frankly, Thomas didn’t want to take the risk that this was all just a machine glitch.

“Fourteen months, according to a device Alaxia had. And I don’t think either of us wants to take the risk that this is all just a misunderstanding.” 

“Do you need all transformation zones cleared?” Abrams asked. 

Oh, that was a good point. 

“Any five will do. Well, four, with Alaxia dead. And since you’re going for the Manatee Grove next, that means we just have three more to select …” Thomas trailed off, then facepalmed. 

“First, Elias finally told me that he actually knows the native system of the Jungle of the Verdant Hells, and how to access it. It’s called the System of the Apex Hunter; it centers around stealth and detection until D-Rank, the powers from C through S are slots for a power copying ability with distinct limitations for each, and the seven power limit remains in effect.

“I can give you similar information on the other zones, assuming Elias knows it. If you give me whatever you have, I’ll send you back the best dossier I can assemble.” 

Yes, Thomas’ fairy was an incredibly valuable font of knowledge, but was also surprisingly flaky when it came to sharing that information. 

“We can do that,” Abrams nodded. “But how do you gain the jungle’s system?”

“Enter alone, kill a monster above your rank, properly process the corpse, build a weapon, and use that to kill another monster that’s also stronger than you. Done.” 

“No wonder no one’s done that by accident,” she sighed. 

They talked for a few minutes, hammering out the details, until they started to wrap it up. 

“Also, we finally managed to get the last of your payment packaged up, and it should arrive later today,” Abrams told him. “As you know, those things are a legendary pain in the ass to transport.” 

Yup, that was well known. Impossible to pack up properly, too heavy to transport on most vehicles, and so on, and so forth. 

Thomas had already added a bunch of sea scorpions to the water section of the panacea challenge, but this new thing would be the cornerstone of power projection beyond the bounds of his dungeon. 

And until then, he was using Jan to bring him the heart of his newest monster. 

When the monkey finally reached the dungeon’s entrance, he didn’t even have to put down the box, as Thomas’ influence devoured the heart right then and there. 

Oh, so this was what monsters from the other transformation zone were like. 

The monster was called a “Silverspit Serpent,” and would keep growing and growing as it aged and gained power, until it would, at S-Rank, become a true world serpent. Wrapping all the way around the globe, and all that. 

Which was why it’s first power was called Titan’s Physique, which did exactly what it said on the tin, taking the square cube law out back and shooting it in the head with respect to this particular creature, naturally reinforcing the surroundings to negate other issues such as its sheer weight making it sink into the ground, etc. 

Not too useful for creatures that had to stay small enough to function within a dungeon, but still really cool. 

The second power, meanwhile, was far more innovative, it being the eponymous “silverspit,” a kind of liquid metal generated by the power that could be made to assume several different forms once it left it’s user’s body, something that could also be delayed by several seconds, allowing its former user to cover large areas with self-forming spikes, blades and the like, though Thomas could also see several other applications for it, namely, emergency vehicle repairs. 

Though that would also require him to create something smaller with the power, as that snake would only fit on something the size of an aircraft carrier. 

As for the final power, it was another version of a balance of power, this one called “internal gyroscope.” It allowed its wielder to shift around its mass to alter its trajectory in midair to a limited agree, and snakes, specifically, could rear up much further than would normally have been possible. 

Seeing that had left Thomas kicking himself, since it was one he could have easily created himself, but he now had it. And still had another “gift” to look forward to. 

***

Two hours later, a truly titanic truck arrived at the entrance to the Natural History Museum, and began to, ever so slowly, inch closer and closer until it began to drive up the stairs to the entrance and the engine began to complain. Loudly. 

“You know what? I think you guys might not have thought things through all that well,” Elias commented dryly after Thomas had explained the issue. “Shouldn’t there be a goods entrance or something like that in this place?” 

There was, in fact, a loading dock in the back, which Thomas had taken into his domain and then proceeded to soundly ignore. It was also not connected to anything anymore, but that wasn’t going to be a problem since once the shipment was in the museum, he could absorb and reform it literally anywhere else in his domain. 

So, after half an hour of giving directions, and burning a new road through the jungle to allow the truck to pass, he’d finally gotten his hands on his reward.    

Oh … this was going to be fun. 

What Thomas had just received was quite literally unique, the only one of its kind left in the world, at least one that was working, a rare and valuable relic of ages past.

A Kampfpanzer VI Tiger, from the tank museum in Dorset, in the south west of England, just shy of Cornwall. 

And as the name would indicate, it was, in fact, a WW2-era German tank. Outdated, obviously. 

And despite a devastatingly powerful (for the time) 88mm main weapon that could blast apart allied tanks at high range and heavy armor that was nearly impenetrable on the front and required allied tanks to get within half a kilometer to penetrate from the side, it really wasn’t a very good tank even for its age. 

After all, when building a tank, you never wanted “will this thing actually be able to get to the battlefield” to be one of your biggest question marks.  

These things absolutely devoured fuel, something Nazi Germany had been badly lacking at the time, had incredibly complicated and breakable internal mechanisms, and were too heavy for most bridges and too wide for standard railcars, and were so complicated to build that they were massively outnumbered on any battlefield they did manage to make it too. 

And, of course, it was incredibly outdated, outclassed in speed, firepower, accuracy, and armor-wise, modern tanks might have thinner shells than the mobile fortress of the tiger, but the materials they were made from were vastly superior, which left them far tougher.  

That being said, Thomas hadn’t grabbed this thing purely because he was one of those people who was convinced that the Nazi “Wunderwaffen” were still viable even today. 

No, he’d asked for it because A. it had been something he knew for a fact would be able to fully function in a transformed zone, B. for something that old, the Tiger hit hard, and C. he actually could wave a magic wand and remove all the various issues plaguing this design, and then he’d be left with a fairly powerful, transformation-zone capable tank whose turret he’d likely be able to also use elsewhere. 

… weeeeeeeell, it wasn’t a magic wand, and he wouldn’t exactly be removing the issues so much as going around them, but the point still stood. 

Fuel and mechanical issues could be entirely negated by the Spiriti Machinae, the machine spirits, he’d use to power and control them, and he could mass-produce these tanks using his innate power as a dungeon. He’d have asked for something more modern, but the Spiriti would not have been able to compensate for the computer systems that would inevitably fail in any place he’d need the tanks to operate in. 

Also, between his ability to substitute materials and the reinforcing capabilities of his spirits, he could certainly compensate for some of the things the eighty-year-old war machines lacked. 

Which just left the issue of mass and transport, which he’d already found a solution for. Magical slime molds. 

These things, despite the names, weren’t actually “slimes” in the way video games described them, but in fact entirely biological beings, a kind of multicelluar life that lived in plant detritus, could move like amoebas and hunted bacteria and the like. Mindless, malleable past the point of insanity, and equally capable of stretching. 

It had taken Thomas longer than he’d have liked to admit to upgrade them to F-Rank, but he’d eventually managed by trapping some monkey-thing from the jungle outside in a box and pouring literally thousands of the coin-sized lumps of barely animate sludge into said box until the monster suffocated. 

Yes, one might make a case that that had been entirely against the spirit of how leveling creatures worked, cheesing the biggest hurdle to creating a magical creature, but his mind, figuring out a creative way around a difficult task was a perfectly adequate solution as long as the problem actually got solved. 

As for the ability he’d chosen, it was as simple as its name, buoyancy. 

Slime molds were dirt cheap, lacking both size and power, and he could spawn a ton of them, order them to cover the bottom of the tank, and it would be able to float, turning it into an amphibious vehicle capable of traversing the mangrove woods. 

Of course, there was a way to make that even better, namely, to bump the slimes up to E-Rank and give them a gigantification power that would enable him to achieve the same thing with just one of them. But that kind of upgrading would take a bit. 

For now, he could spend his time playing mad scientist with magical artifacts and figuring out how to reach C-Rank. That should be fun, right?