This is the Wrong World!

Chapter 18.3 - Ripples

It came as a shock to the masses of Emerald City when the government announced the first government-sanctioned auction house. The auction house would have the authority to train and employ D and C-class heroes. The new auction house had yet to open or be completed, but the auction house was already making waves in the city. The entire city was abuzz with the news.

Mr. Jones throws the newspaper in front of Mr. Moore. "Moore, I thought you said, you had it under control. At this rate, once that blasted auction house opens, it will be an utter success. How could you let this happen?!" Mr. Jones furiously hissed, before taking a seat in the chair across from Mr. Moore.

Mr. Moore glances at the newspaper front page coverage and firmly says, "It came as a quiet surprise to me too. However, Jones, I shall forgive the heated outbursts given the circumstances lest I remind you, who you're speaking to.

Mr. Jones stiffens in understanding as Mr. Moore taps his fingers tighter in thought. "We severally underestimated the girl. Undoubtedly, this has made things more complex, but nothing that can't be dealt with. City suppliers, despite government assurances, will not go out of their way to make a contract with the new auction house. After all, it is merely an official stamp stating, that auction house is permitted to use heroes for protection, not guarantying anything else.

However, you are right, Jones. It's time, we stop underestimating that girl. Her movements prove that she holds an interesting deck of cards. In that case, let us assure the cities society, that a greedy social climber is trying to enter their select circles. Spread the word and let us see who will dare show up at the opening and much less dare take a footstep into the establishment.

Mr. Jones much more calmly states, "Very well. But Moore, if this fails, I won't stand idle."

Mr. Moore narrows his eyes but does not reply. Mr. Jones without a word departs as Mr. Moore is left rather thoughtfully watching his figure. Leaning over to the side, Mr. Moore says, "Roberto, send word for Grant, I want to see him."

"Yes, sir," the server hastily says before running off.

Mr. Moore grabs the newspaper from the table and turns towards the sports section. His team, the Bulls was doing rather well this season. He hoped that they would take the championship. Hurried footsteps are soon heard, that halt shortly before him. Without glancing up, Mr. Moore says, "Grant, I want you to keep an eye on my associates, but most especially Mr. Jones. I would hate for another incident like the last one to happen again. It was far too crude and messy for my likening."

"Yes, Mr. Moore," Grant solemnly says, before rushing off to fulfill his task. Mr. Moore turns the paper and chuckles upon coming across the letters to Judy. He laughs at the seeker's questions and advice. But despite his mockery, Mr. Moore reads the entire column. After all, everyone has a hidden vice.

*

Within days' rampant rumors flooded the city. There was not a single person in higher society gossiping about the new owner of the auction house. A conversation of young females at a local restaurant eating their salads conveyed the unruly gossip.

A female in a tight dress says, "Did you hear about the new auction house?"

"Who hasn't?" An elegant young woman in a white dress gracefully said.

Not taking a hint, a perky young lass says, "I heard that the owner has a fetish for non-humans. Apparently, quite the number of non-humans are being employed including-," the girl pauses dramatically before whispering, giggling, "Satyrs."

"Ick, gross," the other young women at the table commented.

"People have no morals these days," the elegant young woman loftily commented.

"Yes, exactly. You're completely right," the rest of the females chimed in agreement.

The female in the tight dress adds fuel to the fire by saying, "Well, what I heard is that auction house owner is a whistleblower. Apparently, the owner used to be part of a highly illegal operation and snitched upon being caught. Now, the government is using the owner as a cover."

Taking the hint, a buxom female says, "I heard the owner is a social climber. Apparently, he or she was married to a filthy rich heir/heiress and inherited all the money upon the mysterious death of their spouse."

The conversation continues to be filled with rumors until the subject becomes dull. With ease, the women move onto topics of interest. The annual masquerade ball is to be held in a months' time, the who of society would be in attendance. Having discussed the prospective list of attendees, they move onto a more important subject the what to wear. Because their outfit would make all the difference in the world to society.

*

Mr. Noir rubs his forehead feeling an eminent headache at the situation. Miss Reed could release a press release stating otherwise, but many would not fail to have any kind of faith in such a statement especially given her age and gender. Very few women of her age had the kind of money Miss Reed had, which would only confirm the suspicions of the masses, that the rumors are true.

The rumors thankfully had not affected the construction crew or hiring process. The money and benefits offered were excellent enough to persuade employees otherwise. However, the rumors had affected prospective relationships with other parties. Many were declining the previous offers made, but more importantly, the invites that had already been sent to various individuals and parties had been returned with most of them declining to attend the open house. The few that had said yes, had done so out of courtesy and most likely not be in attendance.

Not to mention the added stress of Mr. Lee. A quick call had left Mr. Noir grabbing for stomach medicine for his heartburn. Ever since then, Mr. Lee had been behaving in a most childish fashion refusing to speak to Mr. Noir except for via an emissary. Mr. Lee would not be forgiving Mr. Noir for detaining him.

One of the few silver linings that Mr. Noir found was that the government suppliers could not be bribed nor intimated. If not for the government suppliers, there would be no available ingredients to be used for production and crafting purposes. With a sigh, Mr. Noir rings his secretary and ask that Miss Fauna and Mr. Vladimir be sent to his office.

Swiftly, the two arrive in his office and have a seat before him. In a composed manner, Mr. Noir says, "Miss Fauna and Mr. Vladimir I am sure you have heard the rumors and I wish to congratulate on your efforts of ignoring them and still managing your own work. However, I have been asked for a report on the situation. Specifically, how is the recruitment for heroes moving along?"

"Rather well. Not surprising, many minor heroes find it difficult to maintain day jobs. With an official employment that recognizes their situation and pays well, there are sufficient applications to fulfill our needs," Miss Fauna confidently reported.

"Thank you, Miss Fauna, you have my utmost confidence. Do you have anything to add, Mr. Vladimir," Mr. Noir inquired.

"Would the owner be opposed to hiring villains?" Mr. Vladimir curiously asked.

Mr. Noir narrows his eyes and stiffly declares, "It would depend in what context. If they are active villains, I am afraid that is not impossible. However, Miss Reed is not opposed to hiring former or retired villains. Miss Reed finds them rather refreshing and would like another point of view."

Mr. Vladimir nods with satisfaction and curiously asks, "If Miss Reed is fine with that situation, why were we not informed?"

"I cannot claim to understand Miss Reed's thoughts, but from my limited understanding is that Miss Reed trusts your competency in hiring. If the employee to be hired can be duly explained, she will not oppose the hiring," Mr. Noir calmly stated.

Miss Fauna fails to hide a snicker at the response given. Mr. Vladimir turns and narrows his eyes at the fauness. Mr. Noir clears his throat politely drawing their attention back. "If that is all, then please feel free to return to your work," Mr. Noir calmly said excusing them. The two politely depart and close the door behind them. With a sigh, Mr. Noir grabs the phone to report to Miss Reed. One could only hope that; Miss Reed would not issue another request during the call. He was currently overworked as he is.