Chapter 54: Collateral
Wade frowned, staring at the Viscount as if he’d misheard.
"My... skills? How could you possibly take my skills?"
Fairchild’s grin didn’t waver. In fact, it widened, showing the faintest gleam of teeth.
"A fair question. You see, young man, the magic of contracts is binding in ways far more creative than you can imagine."
"A clause can be written, tied directly to your health points. The moment they dip into the critical range where death is assured, the contract activates."
"Every non-Origin Skill bound by that clause is pulled from your body and crystallized into skill stones."
He leaned forward. "Stones that would then belong to me."
Wade blinked. He felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine. "That’s... possible?"
"Rare, yes," Fairchild said smoothly, his fingers tapping idly on the desk, "but very possible."
"It is one of the few ways skills can be taken from an adventurer without killing them outright."
"Of course, Origin Skills remain untouchable. Those are etched into the soul. But the rest? Fair game."
Wade’s throat felt dry. "And this... ’critical health point’ you’re talking about? Who decides that?"
Fairchild’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "Ah, now you’re thinking."
"It is negotiable. We could set the clause so that it only triggers at, say, ten percent of your health. Or five percent of you want to play it safe."
"But the clause will exist, regardless. That way, I know I’ll get my due even if fate swallows you whole in some wretched dungeon."
The words echoed in the safety of Wade’s mind.
He was basically being asked to gamble his entire progression path as collateral.
One slip, one dungeon run that left him bleeding on the floor, and every skill he’d fought for would vanish into Fairchild’s pocket.
Fairchild folded his hands together, his grin staying in place.
"So, Wade Barrett. Will you accept the deal? Or will you walk away and prove that your earlier bravado was nothing but hot air?"
Wade stared at the man, doing a few mental calculations.
Everything in his mind screamed that this was reckless, but another voice, a more determined one, reminded him of why he’d come here.
Half measures wouldn’t get him through his personal dungeon.
Without power, he was nothing more than meat for the grinder.
It was all or nothing.
He inhaled, then gave a short nod. "I’m amenable."
For the first time, Fairchild’s grin softened into something more like approval.
"Good. You’ve got a spine. I like that." He leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Now... the matter of interest."
Wade braced himself.
Fairchild’s voice took on the easy cadence of a man who’d negotiated a thousand times before.
"For a loan of five hundred thousand coins, the standard interest I charge is fifty percent. You would owe me 750,000 coins in total."
Wade almost choked. "Fifty percent? That’s absurd. No adventurer could sustain that."
Fairchild tilted his head lazily. "Many already do."
Wade shook his head. "Thirty percent."
Fairchild’s chuckle was low and amused. "You wound me, Wade."
"Thirty percent is what I’d offer to some reckless brat who only asks for twenty thousand. You, on the other hand, are asking for a fortune."
"Which I’ll repay because of my Origin Skill," Wade countered quickly. "That’s my advantage."
"If you burden me with too much interest, you cripple your own investment. I need space to grow. Otherwise, you’re setting me up to fail, and that means you’ll get nothing."
Fairchild’s grin dimmed slightly as he regarded him.
The silence stretched, both men thinking.
Finally, Fairchild tapped a finger against the desk. "Forty percent."
"Twenty." Wade shot back immediately.
Fairchild’s brows rose in surprise, then amusement flickered across his face again. "You’re bold."
"Twenty five," Wade said firmly, before Fairchild could push higher again. "That’s as high as I’ll go."
"Twenty five percent. You’ll get six hundred and twenty-five thousand coins out of me. That’s more than enough profit for a single adventurer."
The Viscount studied him in silence, his grin fading into something cool and calculating.
At last, he gave a single, satisfied nod. "Very well. Twenty-five percent it is."
"You’ll repay 625,000 coins. The interest applies no matter what happens."
"Whether you find a million coins the very next day or not. Whether you love me or hate me, succeed or crawl on your belly. That sum will follow you like a shadow until it is paid."
Wade inclined his head slightly. "Agreed."
"Excellent." Fairchild’s grin returned, full of teeth once more.
"I must admit, Wade, you intrigue me. I’ve broken men twice your age across this very desk for less. But you..."
He leaned back, lacing his fingers. "You negotiate as if you were born for it."
Wade didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a threat.
"Still," Fairchild said, his tone businesslike now, "before I hand you half a million coins, I’ll need a day to do my due diligence. Your name, your progress, your... performance."
His eyes gleamed knowingly. "Return to me tomorrow night, and we’ll finalize the contract. That’s when we’ll also discuss penalties for late payment."
Wade exhaled slowly, masking the tension knotted in his gut with a calm nod. "Tomorrow, then."
Fairchild’s grin widened once more. "Tomorrow."
With that done, he was dismissed. And so, Wade stepped out of the study, the door closing softly behind him.
Ned was waiting in the hallway, arms crossed and a smug look plastered on his face.
"Careful, newbie," he sneered. "The Viscount may humor you now, but when you fail, you’ll be nothing more than a memory. Unlike me, who knows how to stay useful."
Wade tilted his head, lips twitching into a grin.
Without a word, his body shimmered. A perfect mirrored copy of himself split away, stepping toward Ned.
Ned’s smirk disappeared, his eyes widening as the reflection dissolved into sparks.
"See you around," Wade said lightly, his chuckle echoing down the hall as he walked away.
Ned stood frozen, forcing a shaky laugh, but the sweat beading on his face betrayed him.
Wade didn’t look back. He’d made his point.