Dave appeared in Moria.

He didn't want to head to the Devastator's Capital city as he knew that when the video he sent perfect shot is uploaded, there will be many assassins that will go after him, especially some form the Blood Rage or Heaven's Dawn guilds.

Also, there was the terrifying Mercy who Dave has a deep and unfavorable impression on.

Dave appeared in the middle of the run-down city and walked to its only auction-house. The two Doom Knights followed like towering harbingers of death.

The auction house was a far cry from the elegant and polished pavilion Dave had been to at the Devastator's HQ.

When the Undead trio entered, the two NPC guards at the door were panic-stricken, frozen in place.

Dave walked past them without giving them a second glance and the two Doom Knights followed.

There were a two players purchasing items from the auction-house, when they saw the undead, they were startled. But after realising that it was Mr. Skeletal, One of them started recording Dave and the other was obviously messaging.

When Dave stepped up to the counter, the clerk's face turned white.

"I have an item to put up for auction," said Dave

The clerk regained some of his composure, the familiar ritual of his job giving him a tenuous hold.

"What would you like to auction, sir."

Dave gave the Conquest Right Scroll to the NPC and asked him to put it up for bids starting at 22:00.

It was only a few minutes before the hour.

The NPC took the scroll and put a monocle to his eye, inspecting it. He looked at Dave.

"Wh-what do you want the the opening bid to be?

"1 gold coin"

The auctioneer was surprised at first but then said to Dave,

"Sir, if you wish, we can send out a Server Announcement informing everyone of the item you are putting up for auction. This is a very special item, it deserves special treatment."

"How much does the service cost?"

"We will deduct an additional 1% from the winning bid. I might add this service also includes legal insurance and a collection service, just in case some...irregularities occur with the winner's payment."

"Acceptable, do it," said Dave

Conquest Server Announcement!

The Right of Conquest: Eastern region (Kingdom of Heaven) has been put up for auction.

Opening bid: 1 G

Bids on the Right of Conquest can be made at any auction house

Just as Dave was leaving the auction house he heard a shout.

"WAIT!"

Turning, he frowned.

"Mercy."

It was the assassin-in-white herself. The two Doom Knights at his back unsheathed their swords, They remembered this Living person in white, she almost killed their Lord. They would not allow that to happen again!

But Dave held his hand out, holding them back.

'How did she get here so fast?'

Dave looked at the two players who'd followed him out of the auction house. They looked back at him nervously, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. He turned back to Mercy.

"What do you want?" he asked her impatiently, a teleportation scroll already in his hand.

"Last time we met, you knew who I was. Who are you? And how do you know me?"

Dave spoke, his voice icy with contempt, "I don't care to answer questions from someone who tried to assassinate me. Especially a person like you."

"What the hell does that mean? What kind of person do you imagine I am? I don't know you, who the hell do you think you are to judge me and act like you're better than me!?" Mercy was shouting, angered by Dave's verbal attack.

Shaking with suppressed anger he spat his reply through clenched teeth, "January sixth, a red Ferrari, after midnight, a cyclist on a road in Moya, Pennsylvania. That's what I know about you."

The girl recoiled, her expression shocked.

"I...th-that was you...?"

Dave nodded.

"I-I know I was in the wrong, but my father made it right. He made sure you were compensated, rewarded, for what you did. It was my fault. Bu-"

"COMPENSATED?! You sent your goons to threaten me with guns. In a hospital! I lost my job! I was crippled by you! How the fuck does your daddy's twenty grand compensate for that? You think that's a reward? For what!? The privilege of shredding my hands to save your richie-princess ass? For being disabled and in constant pain because of your drunken 'oopsie'? Fuck you! Take your bullshit twenty grand and give me back my life! But you can't because money DOESN'T buy everything, you insufferable brat!"

He'd completely lost his composure, eyes wild, yelling the last words in impassioned rage. He'd taken so much, contempt, neglect, abuse. The anger had to burst out at some point.

The girl was startled when he shouted back at her, She was, actually, a 'princess' and no one had ever scolded or called her out for her behavior.

"That...that is not true! You're lying!"

He snorted. "Typical," he shook his head, "Whatever, princess. If you really want to know, ask your goons. Now leave me the fuck alone."

He resolutely tore the teleportation scroll and disappeared, leaving the woman standing there on the street, shaken.

Mercy was shocked by his revelations, his accusations. But she regained her calm and her eyes glinted in anger.

She turned to the two players who were still watching the 'show' and walked over to them.

"Did you record that conversation," her voice was chilly, it promised unpleasant things if they displeased her.

One of the two nodded

"Delete it now," she commanded.

The player obeyed instantly, waving his hands at his interface.

The other person gulped hard, staring at the number one assassin in Conquest.

"I know who you are. If I hear the slightest whisper about this anywhere I will come for both of you, and every time you respawn I will be there. Do you understand?"

They both nodded fearfully.

Mercy logged out.

In New York City, a beautiful young woman in her early twenties, woke up and opened the VR capsule she was lying in. She gathered her long straight dark hair and put it in a ponytail as she sat on the edge of the capsule.

Then she got up and walked briskly out of the room and down a long ornately decorated hallway. She had an athletic but curvaceous figure, the kind that evoked wolf whistles from hot-blooded young men. But her cold imperious expression could and often did chastise them back into their proper place.

She took the marble stairs down to the first floor and turned into the living room. A middle aged man sat in a recliner with his feet up watching TV, a cigar in one hand and a glass wine in the other.

"Catlin, you logged out early. Did you get the draugr's head?"

"Papa…we have to drop that contract."

She sat in the recliner next to his.

"Why's that, princess?"

"The draugr is the avatar of the guy from the car accident."

The man choked on his wine, coughing as his feet dropped to the floor.

"Holy Mother of God! That's inconceivable!"

He lapsed into a contemplative silence.

Mercy watched her father think, he'd told her once never to tell anyone what she was thinking. After a moment he looked at her and smiled.

"This could be turned into a good thing. We know who he is. We have a history, a relationship, with this man. Favors were exchanged. We'll just make him an offer he can't refuse."

"I am afraid that will be impossible, at least if what he claimed is true." said Catlin.

"What are you talking about?"

"Ask Bob and Sebastian."

He looked at her, his eyes calculating, then he picked up his phone.

"Get Bob, both of you come to the living room. Now." His voice was hard and uncompromising.

On the other end of the connection, Sebastian, the man Dave had nicknamed Door-Prop felt an unpleasant sensation frisson up and down his spine.

He was a made man. Old school Familia. He knew the Old Man's moods. This wasn't going to be a good talk.

Shortly the two black suited 'bodyguards' walked into the spacious living room.

A few minutes later the enraged voice of the don echoed through the mansion, "YOU MISERABILI PEZZO DI MERDA!!"

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