Discount Dan

Even though my Grand Reopening was going as smoothly as could reasonably be expected, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. This was the Backrooms after all, and in the Backrooms, there was always bullshit of one sort or another to deal with.

This particular bullshit had a name.

Jackson.

Tribune of the Hold, cult leader, minor local celebrity, and the same brohole who’d assaulted Temperance and had purposely torpedoed our initial attempt to form a trade alliance with the Howlers. Although I’d never had the displeasure of meeting him in person, Temperance, Wraith, and Ajax had told me plenty about the guy, so it wasn’t hard to figure out who he was the second he walked up, hellbent on making my life more difficult.

Without question, the guy was a douchebag of the highest magnitude, but I had to give it to him. He had a pair of brass balls the size of truck tires to show his face around here, especially after everything he’d done. That or he had zero social awareness and a sense of entitlement the size of Mount Everest.

Either way, it was perfectly in character for a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer.

Jackson was level twenty-five and unlike his brother, Wratih, he was still fully human.

The guy was tall and broad-shouldered with blue eyes, blond hair, and a jawline chiseled enough to carve marble. Unlike most of the Howlers, decked out in full-on fur suits, the leader of the Roomkeepers wore gleaming silver plate mail and actual wolf hides like some kind of Viking cosplayer at Ren-fest. A great sword protruded above one shoulder and a flanged mace sat at his hip. The guy might’ve been a jackass, but the way he moved—the way he casually wore those weapons—told me he was dangerous.

This was a man well-accustomed to violence and one who wouldn’t hesitate to gut me if he had the chance.

Despite the vague air of menace, however, Jackson looked more or less like the stereotypical hero of every fantasy novel ever. There were those who would no doubt call him handsome, and he wore charisma like a cloak. It wasn’t hard to see why Temperance had been taken in by him, once upon a time. Me, though? I could see right through his self-righteous veneer. His eyes were cruel, and he didn’t even attempt to hide to disdain he clearly felt for every person who wasn’t part of his “flock.”

Nope, this guy wasn’t a hero. He was the popular jock in every teen movie. The arrogant young master, just begging to get curb stomped for his general douche-baggery.

Naturally, a gaggle of bootlicking sycophants trailed behind him.

Jackson and the rest of his poser-paladin squad cornered me in the breakroom of all places while I was taking a short lunch. I wasn’t surprised. By all accounts, Jackson was a petty, self-serving narcissist who no doubt intended to either harass me, intimidate me, or both. One thing was certain, though: he wouldn’t want anyone else to see what he was up to. Despite the clearly posted “Employees Only” sign on the door, Jackson and his cronies crowded into the room and formed a loose ring around me, blocking off the entryway.

If things really went sideways, I could always backpaddled into my private hotel room or into the newly added security office, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t come to that. In my experience, guys like Jackson were mostly bluster and noise. All bark, very little bite. Unless they were one-hundred percent sure they could win the fight, anyway.

Which is probably why he hadn’t come alone.

Fair fights were for suckers and there was strength in numbers.

His posse consisted of five other Roomkeepers, though none were above level eighteen. At level twenty-five, Jackson was the biggest threat by a country mile, and I was sure that was by design. Assholes like Jackson could never abide anyone being better than them. They always needed to be the biggest fish in the pond, even if it meant starving the smaller fish in the process.

Truthfully, Jackson was probably the reason Temperance was at such a relatively low level. She’d been with us for less than a month and had already leveled up three times. I’d never met a harder worker and Temp was as fearless as she was insane. With her bloodlust and general zeal for murdering anything that walked, she should’ve been leagues ahead of the witless loser in front of me. So why wasn’t she?

Because Jackson ego wouldn't allow it, plain and simple.

Chances were, he’d probably assigned Temp to a bunch of shit-tier raiding details where there was a snowball’s chance in hell that she’d actually level up. Starve the competition. Keep ’em in their place. It was one of the oldest tricks in the playbook.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” I said, pushing away my half-eaten hotdog and standing from the plastic table. “Not sure if you can read,” I said, unable to keep my tongue in check, “but the sign on the door says Employees Only. Unless I’m missing something and Ponypuff hired you to clean the toilets, none of you work here.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “Of course we can read and we would never debase ourselves by working in a dump like this.”

My blood was already starting to simmer, but I kept a lid on my anger for now. Dollars to donuts, he was trying to provoke me, so that I’d attack him first. Then he could beat the shit out of me and claim it was self-defense.

Not that I thought he could actually beat the shit out of me.

Between StainSlayer Maelstrom and my new Hydro Fracking Blast spell, I was basically a walking war crime waiting to happen. Still, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“Cool, well I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and just assume you missed the sign then,” I said. “But this is an Employees Only area so if you could kindly leave, that’d be great.” I made a little shooing gesture with my ketchup splattered hand.

“I assume you’re Dan, the owner of this establishment?” Jackson asked, ignoring my completely reasonable request. He eyeballed me with open disgust like a piece of chewing gum he’d accidentally stepped on.

The feeling was mutual.

“Unless there’s someone else running around in a knock of Versace bathrobe and a toolbelt, that’s a safe bet,” I replied, already exhausted by this guy. There was a reason I worked in construction and not retail. People like this were the reason. I actively suppressed the urge to dropkick him into an active volcano and offered him a tight-lipped smile instead. “What can I help you with?”

“I’d like to lodge a formal complaint,” the man said in a huff.

“Of course you want to lodge a formal complaint,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes so hard I was afraid they might fly out of socket.

“I was told you would have elixirs available for sale,” he said matter-of-factly, missing both my eye roll and obvious sarcasm, “but when I checked at the pharmacy, there weren’t any left. My Knights and I are responsible for the safety and protection of the Hold, so I find that unsatisfactory. Your pharmacist—”

“—You mean Jakob, the guy you’ve met a bunch of times before?” I interjected.

“Your pharmacist,” he said again, refusing to speak Jakob’s name, “said you were out, but I know you must keep extra stock in the back. There is always extra stock in the back.” He gestured toward the closed security room door as though that’s where I was hiding all the really good stuff. “I understand that you can’t just give out your reserves to the general population, but you should make an exception for us. We provide an invaluable service to the community and we’re good friends to know.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” I said with a shrug, not sounding the least bit sorry, “but I don’t know what to tell you, pal. Our inventory isn’t an endless bag of holding. This isn’t a Walmart Superstore. Some items are limited, and it takes time to restock. What we’ve got out on the shelves is what we have available. And everything we have is first come, first serve. If you wanted to get elixirs maybe you should’ve showed up early, just like everyone else.”

The sneer on his face turned into an open scowl.

“Surely you’re joking,” he replied sourly. “Perhaps I’m not making myself clear. We are important and our time is precious. My men and I don’t have time to wait around in line.”

I scratched my chin, unimpressed. “I’m pretty sure your brother, who is also a Tribune and the de facto leader of the fur-bigrade, managed to get a bunch of potions, and he didn’t need preferential treatment,” I said after a long moment. “But maybe I’m missing something. Maybe his time is less valuable than yours. Either way, there’s nothing I can do for you. Our stock is out. Try back in a few days.”

His brow furrowed as he scowled at me.

“In that case, I would like an additional discount on all your wares and services for me and my men,” he said. “For the inconvenience. And I would also like to request that you set aside some portion of your elixirs for us in the future.”

I tried to suppress a laugh in his face but couldn’t help myself any longer.

This guy had to be joking. Had to be.

Jackson didn’t seem to think what he’d said was particularly funny because the scowl had morphed into a full-on glower. If looks could kill, I’d be dead where I stood.

I tossed my hands up. “Alright, I can’t anymore with this. You really want me—the guy you actively tried to fuck over—to give you and your cronies preferential treatment?” I shook my head, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Temperance told me a lot about you, but she neglected to mention that you also moonlight as a circus clown.”

I crossed my arms and glared at him, not even attempting to mask the contempt I felt.

“Just so there’s no confusion,” I continued, “let me make it abundantly clear: I’m not giving you a discount and I’m setting aside jack shit for you. In fact, everything in the store is now ten percent more expensive for you and all your gaggle of chucklefucks here.” I waved a hand at his followers. “If you’ve got a problem with that, then maybe you should just save yourself the trouble and not come back.”

“You might think you’re untouchable because you’re Wraith’s newest favorite pet,” Jackson said coldly, “but I promise you, I am one enemy you don’t want to make.”

I snorted and chuckled again, which really pissed him off.

“You think I’m scared of you, dipshit?” I asked after a beat. “I’m at war with the Flayed Monarch. Compared to him, you’re a gnat. The Black Harbor Syndicate is offering a king’s ransom for my head on a platter, and you think I’m scared of a Ren-fair cosplayer with delusions of grandeur? News flash, pal, in the Hold you might be hot shit, but here you’re less than a brand-new delver, fresh in from the Lobby.

“The only reason I didn’t put you and your buddies on the Restricted Access List was because Temperance asked me not to. For some reason, she still seems to think there might be something redeemable about this stupid cult of yours. Me? I couldn’t disagree more. But either way, you’ve officially worn out all the grace I was willing to extend. Now kindly get the fuck out of my face and out of my store, before I make you.”

Something dark and nasty rippled just beneath the man’s face.

“No one talks to me like that,” he growled, and I could tell he’d finally hit his breaking point. This guy was used to getting what he wanted, and just like with Temperance, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Last chance,” I said, not even bothering to reach for the hammer at my side. “Turn around and walk away before you make the worst mistake of your life. Might even end up being the last mistake you ever make.”

In reply, Jackson snapped his fingers, and everything seemed to happen all at once.

Two men charged me, though neither had drawn their weapons, which was lucky for them. Probably the only thing that saved their lives

Camo Joe materialized from the shadows and descended on one of the attackers like an avenging angel. The golem lashed out with an aluminum baseball bat, knocking one of the thugs unconscious before spinning in a wide arc and zapping the other with his inbuilt Artifact taser. I caught the angry crackle of electricity and then the second assailant slumped to the floor, all the fight gone out of him.

Jackson advanced on me in the same instant, one hand going for my wrist to prevent me from drawing a weapon. I smirked and didn’t even try to stop him. I didn’t need to. The second he made contact, there was a brilliant flash of white light and the whole store rumbled in protest. The light was so bright it left purple afterimages swimming across my eyes for a moment. When I finally blinked away the violet streak, I found Jackson standing in front of me, still as a statue.

His eyes moved frantically, so I knew he was still fully aware of everything that was happening, but the rest of his body was completely unresponsive and would be for an entire minute. That was the effect of Stasis Halo, one of the store’s primary security protocols.

As the owner of this little slice of paradise, this entire store was built to protect me at all costs while I was within the confines of its walls. Anyone who was stupid enough to launch an attack against me would be instantly trapped within a temporary statis field. This was my first time seeing the ability in action, and it was exactly as satisfying as I’d imagined.

I slipped closer until I was inches away from Jackson’s froze face.

“I warned you not to do this, dickweed. I tried to be the bigger man, to play nice, even though I think the world would be better off if you just voluntarily jumped into a woodchipper. But you couldn’t leave well enough alone. You just had to fuck around and now you’re gonna find out.”

Although I had no intention of executing him in cold blood, I did plan to make an example out of him. Especially since Statis Halo wasn’t the only store ability I had at my disposal.

I pulled my hand back above my shoulder, then let loose with all the strength I could muster, slapping him across the face with the force of a bomb blast. As my palm landed against his cheek, I activated Ban Hammer.

Ban Hammer was my most complicated in-store ability and served as an advance moderation tool. As my slap landed with the sound of a thunder crack, Jackson just… blinked out of existence. Here one moment, gone the next. Such was the power of the Ban Hammer; it had the ability to banish rule breakers from the store at will. To instantly teleport them to a random location on a random floor, so long as it was my currently connected to my shop, via a Doorway Anchor.

In effect, it was a giant “get fucked” ejection button. As with Statis Halo, this was my first time seeing it in action and it was exactly as awesome as I’d hoped for.

There was no telling where exactly he’d end up, but as long as it wasn’t here, I didn’t care. I had no doubt Jackson would survive the ordeal, no one made it to level 25 without some serious survival skills and at least one rudimentary Navigation Relic. Still, depending on where he landed, it could take him weeks or even months to make it back to the Hold. That would give him plenty of time to reflect on all the poor life choices he’d made.

The rest of his thugs backed away slowly, terror etched into the lines of their faces.

They had no idea what I’d just done, but from their perspective it would’ve looked like I’d just bitch slapped Jackson out of existence itself. I knew there were a lot of rumors swirling about me—about who I was and what I could do—and although most of them were wild exaggerations, there was often a nugget of truth at the heart of every lie. So far as they were concerned, I’d just dispatched a level 25 without drawing a weapon or breaking a sweat.

These guys may have been loyal, but in the Backrooms the ultimate loyalty was to survival.

“Your boss is strong. He’ll be fine in a couple of weeks,” I growled at the remaining Roomkeepers, “but I can’t say the same for the rest of you. So unless you want to get personally acquainted with the Hotel Lodgers on the Fifth Floor, take your buddies and get out. Now.”

That finally did the trick.

It was like a dam broke as the remaining Roomkeepers scooped up their unconscious and injured members, then beelined for the exit like the Devil himself was at their heels. Maybe he was. I’d have to tell Wraith about what had happened, but thankfully I had the whole incident recorded on the security tapes. This might still cause trouble down the road, but no one could say I hadn’t done my best to try and find a peaceful solution.

All in all, it was a great first day. The Howlers were happy with the store. I racked in a metric ass load of new items. I finally got a chance to see both Stasis Halo and Ban Hammer in action and, as an added bonus, I got a little well-deserved retribution on Jackson. Banishing him to a month or so of random wandering would never make up for what he’d done to Temp, but it was a nice start. Very cathartic.

It was basically a perfect day.

At least until the Aspirants showed up on my doorstep…