Limitless The Strongest Revenant

"No, I don't think I'll need it, maybe in the future."

"Understood."

[My Lord, I can summarize it in three sentences if you wish].

"Oh? Then please do."

[The hierarchy and construction of Production is structured like a pyramid. The better your services, the higher you go. The third floor and above are owned by guilds, the second by groups, the first by individuals].

"Ho? Got it, thanks Aira."

Aira's explanation made sense, so the first floor had all kinds of products. But the second floor was grouped. Much like the Mercenaries, Production probably ranked its members based on the things they made.

Finally, we reached a counter manned by a receptionist.

"Mr. Scrivener. Welcome to the 3rd floor. Which Production Guild are you here to see? I can confirm with their receptionist if they can accommodate you."

"Thank you, but that will not be necessary. I do not have an appointment with any of them. Instead, send a Golden Horn to the all Production."

"Huh? Are you sure? Each one of them costs 5,000 souls. Even if you pay, I cannot guarantee that any of the guilds will respond."

When her answer left me baffled, I asked my partner, "Aira, a little help, please?"

[Unlike the other groups that have a governing body, Production instead has a lateral structure bound by similar interests. Since they have no leader, they instead share information through paid broadcasts called Golden Horns].

"Why? Isn't that much harder than if they just elected a leader?"

[My Lord, Production resents favoritism and interference from other professions. A Golden Horn gives each of them an equal shot at every single major client. This means that the biggest sales won't be monopolized. The service is reserved for the most elite of their patrons.]

"They sound like extreme capitalists. Wouldn't they just pay the receptionist with the horn?"

[Indeed, my lord, that would be the case if the receptionist were a member of production. So usually the receptionist is from Administration instead].

"That doesn't change much. Then they would just pay or intimidate the Administration, right?"

[That is not possible, my lord. Administration is a special profession because it serves under the Revenant of a continent. In North America, to pick a fight with someone from Administration is to incur the wrath of David Thomas].

"Oh..."

That would be a bad idea. Talk about having the biggest stick. It seemed stupid to me, but if it worked for them, then by all means. My conversation with Aira was barely audible to others, so Phillip didn't notice my reactions.

My clerk paid the deposit like a rich bastard and wrote something on a small board. Then I felt a death resonance that shook the whole building.

"Wow, so this is the Graveyard's hottest celebrity. No wonder you were willing to pay for a golden horn." The receptionist smiled as she glanced at me.

{Mercenary Limitless wishes to establish a loot contract. Priority 3 guilds and above are required. Please report to the 3rd floor if you wish to apply.}

"Holy shit! They announce this thing with souls! No wonder it was so expensive."

[My Lord, for the record, the Death Resonance in Hellsgate is highly regulated. Only specters are allowed to summon it for personal use. The receptionist uses a soulgear authorized by David Thomas. It cannot be manipulated, silenced, or tracked.]

At that moment, I heard a large number of notifications coming from a small laptop on the receptionist's desk.

"Ah. Lucky for you, Mr. Scrivener. Over twenty guilds have responded. There are 10 Priority 3 guilds. 4 Priority 2 guilds, and 1 Priority 1 guild.

Would you like to respond to all of them?"

Before Phillip could ask, I heard what sounded like several elevators opening at once from the back. More than a dozen people started running towards us.

The first one then pointed at us as he yelled at the receptionist.

"Lala, it's them, right?"

Lala nodded and all hell broke loose. The people all swarmed towards me, shaking my hand and introducing themselves in a frenzy.

"Mr. Limitless! I am a fan of your Keuk..."

Before the man could finish his introduction, a woman beside him elbowed him in the stomach.

"Hi! Our guild will be happy to... AHHHH!!!"

Similar to the first man, the woman had her foot trampled on by another person as she spoke.

Like crabs trying to get out of a basket, the guild representatives began attacking each other to make sure that only they could talk to Philip and me.

I wanted to stop them, but both Phillip and Aira told me not to. Not understanding what was going on, I remained silent. Phillip let the scuffle go on for a few minutes before clapping his hands.

"All right, that is enough. I am Phillip Scrivener, the exclusive clerk of Limitless. He left all the details to me, make your best offer and send it to my email. We will decide on a contract right here and now."

"What! Oy call the boss!"

"Sister, what do we do?"

"Shit! Right here?"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Philip's words sent the production guild representatives into a frenzy. Then he clapped again to calm the others.

"Limitless, will also purchase Blessing Services in bulk. The offer that includes them in the deal will have a greater chance of being accepted."

"But Mr. Scrivener, we need to draw up a contract! Such things aren't decided on the spot."

Smugly, Phillip crossed his arms as he declared in an arrogant voice.

"Then feel free to leave. As I said, only those who are interested need apply. The commotion earlier proved that right? You need Limitless more than he needs you."

Only now did I understand Phillip's calculated moves. Using the Golden Horn proved that we weren't short of money. From the mere impact of my name, the frenzy of the guilds ensured that I held the power in this negotiation.

I remembered Bella's words once again as the situation continued.

'Listen well, honey. Here in Hellsgate. never give away anything for free. Negotiations are fought long before words are even spoken. So, leave them to me. We cannot be too eager to invite anyone to our group.

The dynamics of whether they or we ask first greatly differ. The first who expresses interest already loses the upper hand.'

"Well, I'll be damned."