Greed God chapter 35

January 9th 2016 Gotham City 9:00 PM EDT

Sitting  down across from the Calculator was...jarring. I could read people  extremely well. Their breathing, perspiration, pupil dilation,  microexpressions, all of these things blended together to give me a  sense of what they were thinking or feeling. I included that in my  interactions automatically, without even thinking much about it these  days, but I sure as hell noticed when it was gone.

The  Calculator had none of those tells. Sure he breathed, he blinked, his  pupils dilated. But all of these things happened at a steady and  mechanical pace. He blinked every five seconds, like clockwork, his  pulse never moved from exactly eighty nine beats. He didn't sweat,  didn't flush. The Calculator was a fucking machine made of meat, and it  was super creepy. He was also, however, pretty competent. He waved off  his goons as I sat down, clearly able to tell a threat when he saw one.

His  voice was cold and precise when he spoke. "I can't say I recognize your  ensemble, but you wouldn't be here if you weren't interested in my  services. You'll forgive me, however, if I ask to see some proof of your  ability to compensate me for my time. Would be a shame to waste minutes  of my life on humoring an unknown who can't afford to pay." His cold  eyes flashed behind his perfectly symmetrical glasses as he fixed them  on me.

I smiled beneath the mask and reached into a  pocket, pulling out a gold necklace with a big ass ruby on it I'd merged  from some costume jewelry I got at that pawn shop. I set it down on the  table and he picked it up, scanning over it, with his eyes as well as  his fingers. I kept my own tone measured as I questioned him. "That good  enough to prove how deep my pockets are?" I made a mental note to stop  and pick up a bag of fake jewelry to merge into something better so I'd  have more of this stuff to drop. I was burning through it pretty quick.

The  Calculator's brow furrowed, the first sign of disturbance on his  otherwise unmarred face. "This is...interesting. The style of the metal  work is unusual for a piece of this quality. A bit sloppy." He clicked  his tongue in annoyance. "I despise waste, whoever made this should have  left the materials to a proper craftsman. However, the materials are  all of excellent quality." He slipped the thing into his green plaid  suit jacket. "You have my attention. I'll hear you out."

I  nodded at that. "I'm looking for someone. An acquaintance who went  missing a few years ago." Jade had given me a few details via text when  prompted. "To clarify, once I contract your services you'll keep all  information requested or uncovered completely confidential? I was told  you can be discrete, but there are some scary people around town. If  you're going to cave and spit out what you did for me after a threat or  two I'll take my business elsewhere."

With a humorless  twitch of his lips that could only loosely be described as a smile, the  Calculator responded. "I don't make assurances. If my reputation isn't  enough for you then we have nothing to talk about and you can see  yourself out. If you want to do business, we can do business. You have  my attention for a few minutes because of this stone. Now are you going  to tell me what you want? Or are we done here. Because I'm going to keep  this either way."

I had to respect that level of don't  give a fuck. Figuring I'd have to actually commit to something sometime I  nodded and leaned in. I focused on the concept of secrets, on my mask  and how it was supposed to protect mine, and when I spoke my next words,  I pushed them through the mask in a way that shaped them so only the  Calculator could hear what I said. "I'm looking for a boy named Roy  Harper. He's been missing for about eight years, and he was fifteen when  he vanished."

This next part was actually really weird  even for me, but she swore it was a thing, and knowing some of the stuff  my dad got upto it wasn't impossible. "He was also replaced with a  clone. That version of him has been living his life in his place. I'm  trying to find the original. You still confident you can deal with the  fallout of snooping around?" My identity was secure in my mask so even  if he said no I could just bail, no one would know this meeting was  connected to me personally and I could lay low from being Mammon for a  while if someone tried to off me.

To his credit though,  the man didn't even blink. Well, he did, but only after the requisite  five seconds. Such a weirdo. "Your request will require greater  compensation, but it is still within the realm of my skills." I nodded  at that, and took out a huge ass diamond engagement ring, setting it on  the table, next to a cushion cut emerald half as long as my thumb. I  still had a few more rocks to spare before I started pushing into the  ten stones I promised the penguin girls, and I really wanted those  spies.

Picking up the stone to examine it, then the ring,  he nodded. "Twenty carats. Natural and excellently cut. The ring is only  ten, but with the platinum setting is worth even more. I'd say the two  are probably with about three million in total." He stowed them in his  jacket before passing me a card. "I'll take your job. I'll need a few  days at least to look into your matter, but you can get in touch on  Wednesday and check in. I should have something by then." With that he  went back to his drink, effectively ignoring me and dismissing me from  his presence.

I stood up with a  grin, not the he could see it. "Fair enough, talk soon." Then I headed  out into the club proper. I had the girls waiting upstairs, but I had  come here for a different reason. I'd brought one of my training guns  with me. I'd made several of them actually, using up a thousand plus  points on making ten H rank training guns, with the weapons from the  cache of random shit that Whisper had brought for her transformation.  I'd had to stop at the store and pick up the needed DVDs and books, but  I'd brought one with me tonight.

With  the Religion of Crime becoming somewhat less valid as a trading partner  I'd decided to try to expand my customer base. I was going to be taking  Whisper and they would eventually be enemies, so I was going to  approach a more neutral party about buying my weapons. I'd brought all  ten weapons and left them out in my car to wait for a potential meeting.  Now that I was here and had flashed around plenty of bling I'd proven  myself as a power player, and hopefully Jay and Raven could score me a  meeting with their boss.

When  I got to the the suite they'd picked out they were understandably upset  not to be getting fucked into a drooling mess immediately and showered  with precious gems, but once I mentioned wanting to meet the Penguin  they got serious. They were obviously scared of the little guy, and sex  and money aside they did not fuck around when it came to his business.  They called up about a meeting, and the Penguin, who I assumed had been  watching me via security cameras for a while now, agreed.

The  girls escorted me up to meet their boss, assuring me they would wait  outside for me and we could head down to the suite together. The door  was being guarded by a pair of goons, and when they ushered me inside  Lark was standing there next to what had to be one of the smallest  ugliest men I'd ever seen. He was leaned back in his chair, top hat  perched on his head, monocle over his eye and he looked somehow...right.  Like he fit in this office. He reminded me a bit of a goblin from the  Harry Potter books.

Lark  was positioned stoically next to her boss, arms crossed in a stoic and  imposing manner. When he saw me enter the Penguin grinned at me from  behind crooked teeth. "Mr...Mammon? Was it? Please come in and have a  seat." He gestured to a wing backed chair across from his desk and I  made my way over to sit down. Once I'd gotten off my feet he gestured to  the side of the room where a large ornate cabinet was coated with  decanters. "Would you care for a drink? Each is an excellent vintage. I  can have Lark bring you a listing?"

I  shook my head. "I appreciate that, Mr. Cobblepot, but I don't partake. I  actually came here with an offer for you. I've recently come into  possession of some rather valuable weapons. I've been wracking my brain  over who would be discerning enough to take them off my hands, and I  thought of you first." I passed him the keys to my towncar. I'd stripped  the thing of any evidence of my identity and left only the guns and  this had been the easiest way I could think of to approach him with the  weapons without starting a war.

He  took the keys with a raised eyebrow and whistled, handing them over to  one of the goons with instructions to retrieve the large case I told him  was in my trunk. It took about ten minutes for the goon to return  lugging the case, most likely stopping to run it through a series of  high tech detection equipment to make sure there were no nasty surprises  in it. When he dropped it on the floor with a rattle I actually winced,  though I knew my gear was more than sturdy enough to be fine. He opened  the box and took out a rifle.

[Appraisal  function activated. Treasure detected. Deadeye's rifle-H rank. A rifle  imbued with the spirit of a master marksman. Provides insight into the  act of long range shooting and subtly guides the users shots to find  their mark.]

He handed the  weapon over to Penguin. "This as you may be picking up from holding it,  is a Deadeye's Rifle. It contains the consciousness of an expert  marksman. It guides the shots of it's user and teaches them to shoot  more effectively as a whole. They're training and homing weapons all in  one. Aside from the rifle I have four sub machine guns, two assault  rifles, and three pistols of the same product line in that box." I  grinned behind my mask. "Of course, ten is just the tip of the iceberg,  so to speak. I'm the only one who can make these."

Penguin  leveled the rifle at the wall and put a round through the eye of one of  the paintings with a low whistle. "Well. That is certainly and  interesting little trinket. I can't say I'm not intrigued. But I do have  a few concerns. How many people will you be selling these excellent  weapons to? How much will you be charging? And most importantly, what  makes you so sure I won't just lock you up and force you to make them  for me alone. You ARE by yourself in the middle of my territory."

I  chuckled, completely unworried. "Because we are men of substance, Mr.  Cobblepot. I trust not only your reputation, but your intelligence. I'd  have to be an idiot to walk in here without some form of insurance. As  for the rest of it, I'm not an unreasonable man. I came he fully willing  to negotiate." I mentally apologized to the girls waiting for me  outside, I suspected this was going to take a while. But hey, business  before pleasure.