Debauchery x Division 14 (Patreon)

Commissioned

Debauchery x Division

Chapter 14

-VB-

Alan Marris

Cooperland

3021.02.24

While my clones raided House Davion like the steppe horde had raided China for thousands of years (with superior firepower and speed), I was still at home contemplating how I should spend my next twenty points. 

… And then I had an idea. 

For all of my planning, I was more of an administrator than a tactician or strategist. Yeah, sure, I can do some basic maneuvers here and there in the political and battlefield thanks to all of these KNOWLEDGE I was getting, but that didn’t change the fact that, ultimately, I was more at ease at home writing up a proposal for an administrative policy or doing research on someone else’s policy than being out in the battlefield, ballroom, or court. Even then, I wasn’t a particularly fast administrator either, which was why I left the actual administration to many clones to sort out.

What I needed, however, was a political/military tactician/strategist. 

Either combination would do.

Hell, I’ll even get myself a spymaster, too!

But right now, I needed a proper thinker with mental flexibility to accept being placed in the Battletech universe. 

I … had a Companion in mind, but she was very stubborn, headstrong, and strong. Not in a “dommy mommy” way but in a more “I am your drill sergeant” way. She also had zero interest in romance, which was great! On top of that, she had a proven record of being a successful military strategist, tactician, and warrior herself. 

She was perfect.

What I didn’t know was whether or not she would be able to adapt-.

… Who the hell am I joking?

I was talking about Olivier Armstrong.

Without any further ado, I found her in the catalog and summoned her. 

She appeared with a dim show of colorless light and a puff of smoke. 

And without even a warning, a sword came sailing for my head. 

I didn’t dodge. Mostly because I couldn’t. I had no abilities native or downloaded that let me dodge that!

The air hissed as the sword sliced through it…

And then the sword came to a stop right at my neck.

As the smoke cleared, I found myself staring up at her. Olivier Mira Armstrong. The long blonde haired woman with full round lips looked around. Her blue uniform barely moved along with the turns of her head. Was that because of her movement economy or was the Amestris State Military uniform that stiff? 

She turned to look at me again with her cavalry saber still held against my throat. 

Slowly, she lowered her saber. 

“You must be my master,” she hummed as she looked at me up and down. She frowned. “I do not like what I see.”

“W-.”

“You are weak,” she sneered as she started to pace around me. “You have something odd about you, but oddity does not make a person strong!” 

Then out of nowhere, she lashed out with her saber and slapped my ass with the flat of the blade. I jumped in surprise. 

“STAND AT ATTENTION!” she roared and I instinctively did that. 

She stopped pacing for a moment and then started again. “Good. You have a decent posture at the very least. If you are to be my master, then I expect you to be decent in my eyes. And that means being able to fight! I will not have a master who relies on his subordinates to do everything!”

“I don’t rely on anyone,” I grumbled at her before I loosened up. 

She narrowed her eyes at me for loosening up without her approval.

“I am still your master, Armstrong,” I hissed at her with my own narrowed eyes. “I will accept instructions, but you receive orders from me, not the other way around.”

She continued to glare at me before nodding. “Good. You also have spine.”

I blinked. 

Then narrowed my eyes again. “You were testing me.”

“When a Companion is summoned, they do not get a measure of their master, but it is not the case that the master doesn’t have a measure of their Companion,” she replied as if that was the answer. “Think of this as my own way of conducting an interview.”

“... You realize you’re my Companion, right?” 

“Am I?” she asked as she started pacing again. “For all I know, you could have summoned me just to have a bedwarmer. And I would get in that bed if you truly did ask.” Before I could talk, she soldiered on. “But that would not change the fact that I would not have approved of my status. This love that the Companion implements in the Companions… it is not true loyalty.” She stopped behind me. “So why have you summoned me, master?” 

I slowly turned around and looked at her in her eyes. 

“I need a general.”

She searched my eyes and then nodded. 

“Then you have your general.” She put her saber back into its sheath and extended a hand to me. “General Olivier Mira Armstrong.”

“Count John Kaever, a Contractor of the Waifu Company,” I grumbled as I accepted the handshake. 

She nodded. “Give me the sitrep.”

I did. 

And then when she left to do her job.

She was going to be a headache, but if she was half as good as her original, then that headache would be worth it. 

-VB-

Alan Marris

Cooperland, Mountain Fortress

3021.03.02

Because I didn’t use everything I had to summon the most expensive Companion or power I could get, I reached the limit for Contractor Interest’s account threshold again; if I didn’t spend any of the 25 points I had right now, then the payouts will stop until I cleared room in the account to do so. I could go above it through other means, but that won’t change the fact that the payouts will stop. 

So.

25 points. 

It was time to get Tina a power of her own. 

“So what do you want for your power?” I asked Tina.

Like always, she and her sister were around and about each other, especially more so because they’ve taken their hands off working as engineers and mechanics in favor of being mothers. 

I stroked the fuzzy topped heads of my two children alongside them who came to our life just two weeks ago.

They were cute. 

They were my cuties.

Yes, they were. 

And I intended to burn anyone who got close.

“I want to be able to teleport.”

“Teleport?” I asked in surprise.

She nodded as she hefted her son, Tors, and glanced at her twin’s daughter, Wendy. 

“Wiska can heal, so I want to be able to get to you and our children from wherever I need to be. So teleport or anything that lets me move really quickly with passengers in tow.”

It was … actually a pretty good reason for power. Hell, they can even combine their powers together to become an ambulance. 

In fact, there was a person whose template would be perfect for her if that’s what she wanted. 

“Alright,” I said as I scrolled through my phone to find the template. “You’ll need to practice a bit, but you’ll be able to teleport … basically anywhere and carry as many people you want to each location. But you might not be able to do it rapidly until you train yourself and the power, okay?”

She blinked. “Sure?”

Then I bought a Template of Strider from Worm for Tina. 

She blinked as her template settled into her. 

Then she handed Tors to me, and once our son was in my arms, she stepped back … and teleported. 

A dozen times over a few seconds. By the end of it, she was dizzy and motion sick.

“I can … ugh… only teleport in range or … to someone I know for now.”

Hmm. Kind of an arbitrary limitation of a power that, in the hands of the original Strider, allowed its user to teleport all over the globe, but I supposed that was the difference between the original’s Tier 6 to Tina’s current Tier 4. 

“Useful?” I asked her.

“Very,” she grinned through her motion sickness. 

And that’s how Tina and Wiska became Cooperland’s premier first responders.

---

Alan Marris (clone)

Cooperland Port

While there were women and men like Tina and Wiska who quickly moved onto different roles and fields once they realized their own limited usefulness, there were other men and women who weren’t like that. 

This applied to my Companions and the locals. 

The influx of materials, wealth, and security got a few people to look for their opportunities for expansion. Someone found out what I and my clones liked to eat, so she set up a business catered specifically to my clones, but because she needed a lot of ingredients for the set-up, she ended up being one of the biggest buyers of eggs, goat meat, beef, pork, flour, rice, and vegetables in the Cooperland Port as well as the owner of the largest restaurant once my clones got used to her mongolian-style barbecue. 

“Another one?!” Chef Dorothy asked the clone in front of her in surprise before shaking her head. “Ugh. What else was I thinking? You lot eat too much!” 

“Shouldn’t you be happy?” I asked with a chuckle as she took the bowl piled with ingredients and tossed them onto the hot iron in the center of the kitchen in front of the customers. Immediately, the ingredients - cabbage, onion, just a pinch of cilantro, lamb meat, beef, pork, sugar water, soy sauce, bbq sauce, garlic, and more - sizzled as they struck the hot, black iron table. “I pay well!”

“Yeah, but you eat so much and make my arms hurt from all of the cutting and cooking!” 

I shrugged. “Could’ve opened a different kind of store, Dorothy.”

She snorted. “I sure could have.” Then she paused her speech, though she still moved around the table, using a large spatula to toss and turn the ingredients. “Say… do you buy slaves?”

I stiffened, not in front of her through my clones but back in my room inside and under the mountains. 

“... Why?” I asked her slowly. 

“... I have a friend,” she finally sighed. “Her family’s too big for her and her husband. The damn idiots keep getting fired from their jobs for one reason or another. But instead of having just one kid, they made six.”

“... And?”

“Look, Alan. I know I’m asking something rough. There’s never good feelings around these kind of things,” she muttered out just loud enough for me to hear, not that it mattered because my clones were currently the only customers she had right now. “I know you’re a good person. You wouldn’t mistreat your slaves unless they did something extraordinarily stupid. I’m just asking if you’d be willing to buy a few kids.”

Yeah… if Dorothy here was the face of simple adaptation, then I guessed that whoever she was talking about was the face of inept survivalist. 

“What exactly do they do that gets them fired?”

“Ah, Jake is just … abrasive as hell,” she hummed. “And Jeanne… Jeanne is a flirt. Doesn’t even know she does it but she always ends up getting into trouble with the men at her jobs.”

I stared at her incredulously. “How does that end up with them getting fired…?!” 

Dorothy scooped up all of the nicely browned ingredients and put them on a plate for me. As she slid the plate across the table between us, she cleared her throat. “If I heard right, Jake got fired because he fought back when a customer of his punched him.”

“... What the hell did he to get punched?”

“Told the man his car was worth jackshit and he wasn’t gonna help repair the thing that’ll break down anyway.”

“... Okay?” 

“In much more colorful words.”

“Ah. And Jeanne?”

“Ended up getting into a catfight when one of her coworkers’ wives came in and noticed how flirty she was. Got angry that Jeanne was doing that with her man. And the boss man didn’t care that the bitch started the fight with Jeanne, just that Jeanne had been involved in two other similar scandals, so she let her go.”

“And they have no one else to help them?”

“None. Both of them used to be slaves.”

“And they want to sell their kids to slavery?!” 

“Their oldest girl. Fourteen years old.”

I wanted to slap my face-. Oh wait, I did in other bodies. 

“I’ll… just get them in contact with me? It doesn’t have to be slavery.”

“Everyone knows. You’ve been trying to make slavery expensive as shit,” she cracked a grin. “And thanks for hearing me out, boss man.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just keep cooking for me, Like I always say to everyone -.”

“Don’t be stupid and I won’t have to kick your ass,” she finished. 

-VB-

Alan Marris (a different clone)

Cooperland Port

3021.03.04

I sat across a table in my baronial office in the Cooperland Port and the aforementioned brown-haired family was in front of me. Well, just the parents and their firmly blank-faced daughter. Firmly because I could see her jaws tightening and the parents looked ashamed of themselves. 

“... So you want me to buy your daughter.”

“Yes,” the father, John, said quietly. “She’s … whole. Healthy.”

He didn’t say anything else. 

I tapped my fingers. 

“And you’re not looking for work.”

“Found one already, sire,” he replied. 

“Already?”

“Life is tough for us, but it’s also tough for everyone. We’ve got good pairs of hands, so we and our younger children will be heading out to a farm to work there.”

“Why not take her with you?”

“She doesn’t want to.”

Oh. 

Well, I supposed that was a dynamic. 

“But if she goes out on her own, she’s gonna die. Cooperland, even before you arrived, wasn’t a good place. Always cold. Always snowy.”

That made it sound like this was her choice. 

I looked at her. 

“Well? What are your thoughts?” 

“20,000 C-Bills.”

My eyebrows rose up.

“Sasha…!” her mother hissed. 

Instead of telling me what she thought about it, she quoted me her price. 

I snorted. “And what justifies that kind of a price?” I asked. “Twenty-kay is half of what the former baron made last year in slave sale profits. And he sold hundreds.”

“Because I have big boobs.”

I did a spittake. 

Yeah, she got her abrasiveness from her father… and her mother’s genes. I laughed. “I like your enthusiasm,” I grinned. “But pretty face and pretty body alone won’t make up twenty-kay.” Then I had a brilliant idea. “Do you know how to follow instructions?”

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Do you know how to read and write?”

“... No.”

Well, that’s not good. 

“How about this?” I said as I pulled out a paper and pen. “A contract. I’m not interested in buying slaves, but I am interested in seeing what I can do with a person who’s willing to follow instructions to the spirit and letter. I will pay your parents one thousand C-Bills. In exchange, you will become a contracted servant of House Marris for ten years. During that time, I will be responsible for your education, food, work, and housing. Deal?”

She looked surprised. “Why?”

“You want to question a good luck?”

She frowned. “You could’ve bought me and used me. Why go a step more?”

I thought about it. 

“... I’m a hypocrite,” I replied. “Whatever my morals are, I end up doing whatever feels good to me anyway. So that means I sometimes buy women to be my sex slave. You just happened to have met me when I was fickle enough to want to educate a girl instead of grooming her to be a dumb and useless sex slave when I already have half a dozen.”

I extended the pen after finishing up the contract. “So. Deal or no deal? I’m not interested in making you a slave.”

She looked at me. Looked at the pen. Looked at the paper.

“Dad, you know how to read, right? Can you check the contract to see if it says what he said?”

I grinned and let them.

He did. 

Five minutes later, she signed the contract and her parents left with the rest of her siblings. 

“... You really aren’t going to fuck me?” she asked when she and I were alone in my office. 

“You almost seem like that’s what you are looking for.”

She stiffened. 

“No… I’m … Other girls from … my neighborhood got whored out by their parents.”

I frowned. “Is that normal?”

“For the slums? Yeah.”

I grunted. “Something to fix.”

She snorted. “Good luck with that.”

I hummed for a while before standing up. “Well, let’s go meet my wives. They’ll be your teachers.”

“Wives?” she asked with a frown. 

Tina and Wiska ended up liking her enough to take her under their wings.

Sasha was flabbergasted by their short height. Or that non-deformed dwarves were even a thing.