Jonas

  I groan, and heave my bulk into the plush leather chair and sigh. I pry open the desk, and cringe at the squeal of the drawer. Reaching into the drawer, my fingers peel the top of a case, and remove a fat cigar. It's bulk matching my sweaty fingers. I cut the top, and light it up, propping it in my mouth, I lean back, my chair creaking under the strain of my girth.

  I sigh. Miguel went missing, so most of our operations are going haywire. We keep getting intercepted by groups native to this world. Mostly dwarf gangs, but God does it piss me off. I take a deep puff of my fat cigar, before precariously removing it from my mouth, and balancing it between my fingers.

  I blow outward, the smoke billowing free, and filling the room with the revolting scent. I cough vigorously. I never liked smoking, but the habits are hard to break once you get going.

  With a creak a young woman steps into the room in a baggy sweatshirt, and a loose too long pair of shorts. She quirks her face at the smell of the smoke but doesn't say anything. “You've got a visitor. I think he's native, but I can't tell, and he's got an accent like he's not from these parts.”

  I sigh, and take a tentative puff of my cigar, before lighting the silk scented candle on my table. “I told you I was tired Amisha.”

  She nods. “I know, but… He looks rich, and he said he had a deal.”

  I nod, and lean my head now low, my fat rolls overlapping, and flowing from between my chin, and my collar. “Fine…”

  She smiles. “Thanks dad.” The door slowly creaks shut, and she disappears.

  I lean back into my chair once again waiting. In a second the door cracks open, and a man steps into the room. He wears a long sleeved white shirt, white a forest green vest over top, the green vest has gold patterns covering it. The whole thing is laced tightly to him, showing off an incredibly lean, and impressive form, as well as a clean nice pair of brown pants, made of some material I've never seen before.

  He glances around, twitching, and wringing his hands. “Hello sir.” He tentatively reaches out to shake my hand. I smile, and respond in kind, shaking his hand.

  “How may I help you?” I ask through puffs on my cigar.

  He sighs, and wrings his hands further. “Well, I've noticed… A lot of… Half breeds… living in this city… Satyrs, half-elves, half-dwarves, the things like dworcs! A dwarf, and an orc.” He shudders.

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  I smile enthusiastically. “Yes.”

  He shrugs his shoulders gently. “Well, the thing is, you may not know this but… They just aren't right creatures. I mean-”

  I interrupt him. “Racism? You don't like them?”

  He frowns, but eventually nods. “Yes.”

  I chuckle, and nod. “Why should I care?”

  He nods along as well. “A couple of reasons, if you can find a way to segregate the city, I will fund all of your activities. I am very wealthy, you know.” He nods vigorously.

  I frown. “How wealthy.”

  He smiles, confidence welling up. “Very…”

  I smile. “How much funding are you willing to give us?”

  He nods. “As much as you need, and then some more to make you very wealthy.”

  I grin wide. “I think I can do that… I'll contact you in a week to coordinate my plans with you, so be ready.”

  The man nods vigorously before standing to leave. When he reaches the door he turns, and gives me a second shallow bow, before finally leaving.

  At the sight of him leaving I quickly break out a series of books. “This reminds me of… Redlining. First, I need to put every bank, or loan shark other than me, out of business. Then, I need to register myself as a real bank. After that, I can send people to do surveys of neighborhoods. Any neighborhood with any Half Breeds in them, will be marked as Red Zones. We will first buy as many houses, and apartments as we can in these red zones, and then make rent go sky high.” I chuckle, and scribble all of this down.

  “But because they are red zones, we will refuse to loan to them, so they won't be able to pay for houses in other areas, and will instead be forced to work multiple jobs to pay for their housing in these slums. Finally, we can lobby the government to put the fecal incinerators below these neighborhoods, while the incinerators are a good idea, the ash, and smoke still has to go somewhere, and that somewhere, is usually up, which will pollute these neighborhoods even further, making them… Slums!” I chuckle, and clap my hands together. “Perfect, perfect.”

  Once I'm done scribbling this all out, I call for Amisha. “Amisha!”

  My lovely daughter cracks open the door. “Yeah?”

  “Will you bring me some paper, and an envelope? I need to send a message to that lovely gentleman.” I say with a grin.

  She nods, and returns with some paper, and an envelope, which I quickly scribble onto the paper.

  ‘We are going to need semi-large quantities of mercenaries, who are willing to do discreet, dirty work. As well as an obscene amount of money, we will be buying up lots of housing, and apartments.’

  Once I scribbled that out, I give it to Amisha. “Be careful, don't lose that.” She nods, and disappears off into the hallways, down the stairs, and into the city.