Chaotic Clusterfuck 37 (Patreon)

Chaotic Clusterfuck

Chapter 37

-VB-

“... I didn’t think that being a hero would involve knitting.”

I glanced at Swarm. “Sometimes, it doesn’t hurt to show off your soft side,” I told her. “Of course, this also helps to blunt the self-centered lack of trust that Master capes tend to display.”

Swarm glared at me, not that it showed on her full face mask. Despite my encouragement, she’s so far refused to wear a half-face mask. 

But she’s done well for herself over the last two months that she’s been in my “employment.” Swarm went out and secured the Docks with utmost scrutiny. No crime was too small or too high. If it was a crime in the common sense, then she brought down the biblical plague down upon all perpetrators.

That said, someone needed to manage her image, and being her employer, it fell to me to do so.

And thus, at the start of the third month of our gainful partnership, I opened up a charity event centered on Swarm and my new heavy industries. 

And so Swarm used her many insects at my behest to make silk fabrics that I would buy to donate directly or give the value of money to orphanages, clinics, and places of worship. My business provided the place, equipment, food, and advertisement.

Advertisement was still tax deductible, so I wasn’t losing anything in this venture.

The thousand or so business cards I’m printing myself and would sell for much higher was being deducted as business expense at the latter price. Sure, it’s only fifteen dollar difference, but little things all stacked to get me a big tax deduction. 

Anywho.

Swarm glared at me. “I do not have trust issues.”

“Your dad.”

She grumbled and went back to coordinating her bugs with the silk production. There was a large crowd in front of us watching in fascination as thousands of bugs coordinated their silky strings into threads and then threads were woven into fabrics. All sorts of patterns and colors emerged, dazzling the audience from all walks of life with a show they could only see when Swarm deigned them the opportunity.

I made sure to advertise like that, and Swarm was proving me true. 

Where else were you going to see a hundred giant tarantulas working in unison like this? 

We even held auctions as each fabric roll was completed. 

The auctioneer I hired was off to the side with the latest completed silk roll. 

“Andwe’regoingfora50kayisthat51kayIsee-yesitisa51kaythatIsee,noIsee another52-55kayladiesadngentlemenwehavea55kay-”

I could hear the numbers. I can’t hear anything else. I assumed that he was doing well, though, from the prices being thrown out. 

The numbers coming in meant that the local charities, churches, and orphanages will be good for years to come. Hell, there might even be a few expansions here and there. That’ll provide work. In a roundabout way, this charity event might just be the starting point for some much needed work that the city needed that wasn’t centered on my business.

Zaibatsus, jaebols, and megacorporations were good and all for jump starting the economy but they couldn’t cover everything lest the society they dominated becomes some sort of dystopia. 

So encouraging work to start in a roundabout way would only help the city. 

… Damn, why did I have to worry about that?

… Oh right, because I had my stuff here. And my girls wanted to stay here. 

I glanced over as Swarm finished another silk roll and people clamored to take a closer to look at the mosaic pattern she wove into the fabric. 

Yeah, “knitting” may not be criminal punching career, but it definitely was the kind of thing that made Swarm more than a biblical monstrosity in the eyes of the people.

Because the paradigm shift her silk rolls caused would never leave the minds of the people who were here today. 

Speaking of which, my three girls were in the VIP tent of the charity event, and they were cooing over baby themed silk rolls that Swarm made early on.

I wondered how ironic it would be if Emma’s first baby would be wrapped up in silk Taylor made. 

… Would it even be ironic? At that point, I might get them to reconcile with each other.

A problem for my future self to solve.

I blinked before standing up from where I have been sitting next to Swarm. “I’ll have to go, Swarm. There are a few troublesome guests in the back.”

Swarm looked at me and then tensed up.

Oh yeah, there’s a good reason why she was tensing up.

The Protectorate was approaching … while we have members of the Elite in the VIP tent. 

This was going to be troublesome as hell.

I let out a big sigh.

… FOR FUCK’S SAKE, WHY CAN’T THE PROTECTORATE JUST LEAVE M-?! 

-VB-

Armsmaster didn’t want to be here. 

It was a charity event. 

All charity events involved children running up to him and hugging him one way or another. Or sometimes it’s the adults who do it. 

There’s always a hugger in the crowd. 

Worse, this was a charity event hosted by none other than Marris himself, who has been a thorn in the side of the PRT ENE ever since that debacle at his warehouse. The PRT knew that he and the mayor have been constantly pushing around to get revenge for that as if they were the ones hurt by the incident and not the PRT ENE. 

While he and the Protectorate were not strictly invited to the charity, the charity itself was open to all. Director Piggot ordered him and the other heroes to show up and give to the charity (using PRT ENE’s funds), meet with Marris to convey non-hostility, and some other stuff he made sure to write down but didn’t bother to remember. 

Because, personally, he was more interested in his personal projects. Marris talked about lasers and other ship equipments. Since they would obviously be sold to pirates, he wanted to develop countermeasures. Spending an hour more on those projects would ensure a better future for the city more than an hour in the charity event hosted by the most troublesome individual, but orders were orders. 

“Welcome!” 

All other heroes and Armsmaster stopped and turned around mere minutes of walking onto the charity event ground. 

And standing mere three yards from them was Alan Marris. Smiling as if there was not a single bad blood between them.

“... Thank you for the welcome,” Miss Militia replied with a nod. 

But Armsmaster knew.

This was going to be troublesome.