Chapter 8: Call

    Maxwell spoke of his ambition and his life’s work with great emotion. I could tell that he was deeply attached to this technique.

    Or, I should say Call. Like a Warlock’s Magic Spell or Knight’s Martial Art, Summoners had Calls.

    The Call of the Fallen Angel was something Maxwell himself had created. It wasn’t a Call that had been tested by time or used by anyone else.

    It also made me skeptical. I didn’t know anything about Calls, nor Maxwell who had created this. With my naivety, I couldn’t verify its quality.

    Then again, within the Polaris Family, he was an “Esteemed Sir”. I could at least understand that he wasn’t blowing smoke up my ass and knew a thing or two as a summoner himself. In that case, I could trust his expertise.

    Especially since I knew nothing as it was. I was in dire need of something that would allow me to use my power.

    This also meant that, perhaps, he wasn’t solely insulting me when he said I was ignorant, stupid, and a dumbass. Maybe that was necessary for me to be successful with this Call, being a blank slate with no biases.

    Not that it made me less irritated.

    “You have no use for common knowledge, not yet anyway. Since you have come to me as an empty vessel, I will fill you with the foundational knowledge of this Call. You will learn things as necessary for you to use this Call the way it was created.”

    “Alright. But how good is this Call anyway? I’d at least like to know how it compares to something standard, like a Call from the Magisterium.”

    “Standard? Please.”

    He scoffed, as if I’d degraded his name.

    “I was a Summoner with 11 Authorities, just shy of the pinnacle of this world. And I was a revolutionary in my field. If not for... No, you don’t need to know about that. Just know that this Call is something that will carry you to the top, so long as you have the talent and dedication. It is not something that anything of the Magisterium could possibly compare with.”

    “Then why aren’t you and this Call much more famous than you are?”

    “As I said, you don’t need to know about that. Should you rise to a respectable level, perhaps you will come to find out yourself. And by then, the knowledge wouldn’t affect your development. Now, take this book and begin reading. I will speak as you follow through with the text.”

    He handed the book to me with care, prompting me to take it with a bit of curiosity.

    I couldn’t lose anything by learning this, so I may as well get everything I could from Maxwell’s tutelage. Especially if he was offering it for free.

    “Oh, before we begin...”

    Suddenly, Maxwell eyed me with a weird glint in his eye. It was shrewd, causing me to narrow my own.

    “I will accept 3000 coin a week for teaching services.”

    “Deal.”

    “Actually, after further consideration, I’m thinking 5000 will suffice.”

    “What?!”

    Dropping all pretenses, I entered a heated negotiation with Maxwell.

    Only when we settled on 3800 coin per week did I finally let out a relieved sigh.

    In all honesty, 3800 coin a week was a massive amount of money for me. I had barely started working, and each job might only give a couple hundred coin. On top of food, housing, and all the money I would need to buy myself other necessities, I might not be able to pay it.

    At least, that was in the short term. If I were frugal for a while and managed to get past the next month or so, then I would be fine. Still, it seemed like I wouldn’t be getting a new pair of clothes anytime soon.

    Thankfully, Maxwell was at least accommodating with everything else. It didn’t seem like he had much of a schedule, so we agreed to meet in the mornings after the Founder’s Market went dark and I was done with work.

    With that, he began his first lesson.

    ......

    Summoning wasn’t as straightforward as Warlock Magic or Knight Martial Arts.

    Summoning involved contacting spirits from another dimension that Summoners accessed through their minds.

    And yes, it seemed like even the weapons and gear I could summon, like guns and tomahawks, were spirits. How that worked, I wasn’t sure. But Maxwell made sure that I thought of even inanimate objects as living beings with their own intelligence.

    I just went with it. After all, that was probably the least weird part about this whole thing.

    With that, he moved on to other more detailed teachings.

    First, he taught me that there were two types of summoning: Communing and Marriage.

    Communing was where one called upon the spirits for a temporary amount of time. This was what I did with the flintlock pistol.

    With Maxwell’s Call of the Fallen Angel though, I could create a communion with a spirit, and in real time, power it with my Psyka. So long as the communion was active, I could wield the spirit, and it would return to the dimension when the communion was cut.

    This method of active communion was apparently unique to his Call, though he didn’t tell me what the standard method was.

    Then there was Marriage. And not unlike what it was commonly known as, marriage involved creating a life’s bond with a spirit.

    A marriage, he said, was to be treated as if I were to be married to a woman. The commitment would be lifelong, and not only that, but the spirit’s life would be tied to mine. Should I die, the spirit would die with me. This made it far deeper than a standard communion, and was apparently where the specialty of the Call of the Fallen Angel lay.

    ......

    ...

    Although it was a bit jarring at first, I was able to acclimate to sleeping during the day. And when the sun began to fall, I emerged from my room.

    With a new bill to pay, I couldn’t slack with my work. Heading to the warehouse, I met Plex and recounted what happened.

    He seemed happy for me, and since I told him that I needed jobs, he didn’t bother me much.

    Heading to the job board, I plucked a few papers and read their contents.

    This delivery service of ours was both simple and difficult. It involved not just ferrying valuable items, but surviving any encounters with unsavory individuals.

    I had quickly learned that, even with our principles of mercy, I couldn’t give any room to those who may want to cheat me.

    It was with this mindset that I tackled my jobs.

    From delivering illegal contraband to ferrying messages, the jobs I took were varied. None of the items we moved were normal. All of it could get you arrested should it be found outside the Black Market.

    Thankfully, I didn’t have too difficult of a time. While some clients got aggressive, it was nothing I couldn’t quell with a brandish of the knife. The most I had to do was land a square punch on a guy’s mouth when he spit in my face after asking for payment.

    Another thing I kept track of was the time it took to complete a job. Some jobs required me to deliver items that were already stored in the warehouse, saving me a trip. But others required me to go between two clients to grab a package, deliver it, collect payment, and return to the source.

    With my knowledge of the market’s layout, I wasn’t the most efficient. But despite that and conflicts with clients, I was able to complete a job at an average time of an hour and a half.

    That meant I could complete 6 jobs if I worked nonstop for 9 hours. With some downtime in between, 6 jobs would make a 10 hour workday.

    Then there was the average pay. Some jobs were generous and had commission fees of around 400 coin. Those were usually a bit riskier, since you were either hauling obvious cargo or a small but valuable item. It would invite trouble from others besides the clients.

    Then there was the standard. The majority of jobs paid between 150 and 250 coin. After a full workday of 6 jobs, I came out with about 1200 coin.

    That was an average of 200 coin per job.

    Doing some simple math, that equated to 120 coin an hour. And my weekly bill of 3800 coin divided by 120 came out to about 32 hours of work just to pay for my education.

    In all honesty, 32 hours of work wasn’t bad. I could have my bill paid off in just a few days. Anything after that would go toward buying myself things like food and clothes.

    With that knowledge, I decided that 5 jobs per day, 6 days a week, was reasonable.

    “6000 coin a week. That’s pretty nice.”

    “What is?”

    Libitus questioned from beside me. After a hard days work, I ran into him at the bar we previously met at. That bar was apparently the spot for the delivery men of Plex’s company to hangout.

    I explained to him all the numbers I had run in regards to my income and weekly bill. And for the most part, my plan seemed sound.

    But then, I suddenly remembered something that might make everything much more difficult.

    “Crap! I forgot about taxes! Hey, how bad are the taxes here? I swear if I lose any more than a quarter of my paycheck, I’m gonna burn this city to the ground.”

    “Well, the taxes are about a quarter. At most a third depending on how much you make. But yet again, that’s one of the perks of working in the black market. The ability to entirely disregard taxes.”

    “No shit? Hehehe...”

    I chuckled. In the long list of things I hated, taxes were definitely up there. To think I could just blatantly disregard them.

    I was beginning to love this job more and more.

    “Oh, one more thing.”

    I remembered something else.

    “I still have to get my citizenship. You wouldn’t happen to know anything or anyone that could help me with that, would you?”

    “As a matter of fact I do.”

    Libitus took a sip of his liquor.

    “The Black Market has everything, John. There’s a guy here that handles that stuff. He pays off a customs agent, and all the applications he puts forward get accepted quickly. It basically bypasses all the bullshit you would have to deal with on the official route. Of course, you’ll have to pay a high price, but it’s worth it considering the money you’re beginning to make.”

    “Right. So where can I find this guy?”

    “On Helard Road. The place doesn’t have a name, but it''s known by its building number 333. Go there and ask for help getting a citizenship.”

    “That simple?”

    “Yup. The guy gets a lot of business, so it’s become a proper business.”

    “I see. Thanks. I’ll have to do that tomorrow. Right now, I need to get to class.”

    With that valuable piece of information, I bid Libitus goodbye, heading to the Black Spider Market.