Page 76 of The Dark Lord Awakens
Lord Taxman made a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a squeak. “Automated currency conversion with physical manifestation? Without exchange rate fluctuation or transport fees?” His voice rose steadily until he was practically shrieking. “INSTANTANEOUS SETTLEMENT WITH TANGIBLE ASSETS?”
“Yes, that’s basically?—”
“FINANCIAL REVOLUTION!” Lord Taxman shrieked, leaping onto his chair with surprising agility for such a staid demon. “DO YOU COMPREHEND THE IMPLICATIONS, MY LORD? THE END OF CROSS-REALM TRANSACTION FRICTION! THE ELIMINATION OF COUNTERPARTY RISK!”
The other department heads stared in shock at the normally composed treasurer’s outburst. I gently motioned for him to sit down. “Yes, it’s very exciting. Please stop shouting financial terminology.”
One by one, I activated each department head’s terminal, creating their individual interfaces. The reactions were priceless—Mistress Pokey’s flowers bloomed all at once when her window appeared; General Smashington accidentally punched through the table when his assistant greeted him, and Magister Wiggles appeared to enter a trancelike state, muttering incantations at his interface.
“Remember,” I said as they experimented with their new tools, “I can access all your accounts as the primary administrator. Lord Taxman will monitor the financial aspects, but each of you is responsible for your department’s products and fulfillment.”
Lady Shadowfax was the first to master her interface, her shadowy fingers moving with surprising dexterity across the controls. “I shall name my assistant ‘Umbra,’” she declared, her voice betraying rare emotion. “Together we shall market the finest shadow essences in all the realms.”
Duke Splashypants, not to be outdone, jabbed enthusiastically at his interface. “Mine shall be ‘Moisturizer Supreme!’” he announced proudly.
“That’s… an interesting choice,” I managed.
General Smashington glowered at his interface, which kept closing whenever he tried to touch it with his massive fingers. “Battle-Master,” he grunted. “Simple. Strong.”
Magister Wiggles emerged from his trance long enough to whisper, “Arcane Intellect Alpha,” before resuming his communion with the blue light.
Lord Taxman adjusted his spectacles with precision. “Mine shall be designated ‘Fiscal Oversight Protocol 1.0,’” he stated firmly. “Practical. Authoritative. Appropriately intimidating.”
I spent the next hour walking them through the basics of the OpenSesame interface, teaching them how to list products, fulfill orders, and purchase supplies. By the end of the session, they were beginning to grasp the fundamentals, though GeneralSmashington had accidentally ordered seventeen “Ultimate Pancake Flippers” before I could stop him.
“One last thing,” I said as we concluded. “When orders come in, you’ll need to fulfill them by placing the items in the designated delivery circles.”
I traced a quick pattern on Duke Splashypants’ terminal. A moment later, a glowing blue circle approximately three feet in diameter materialized on the floor beside the table.
“Simply place the ordered items within this circle,” I explained, setting a small shadow crystal in the center of the glowing ring. “Then confirm the shipment through your terminal.”
As I tapped the confirmation button on the interface, the circle pulsed with brilliant blue light. The crystal hovered momentarily in midair, then vanished in a flash that left everyone blinking.
The reaction was immediate and dramatic. Duke Splashypants fell to his knees, webbed hands raised in supplication. “THE VOID ACCEPTS OUR OFFERING!” he cried, tears streaming down his amphibious face.
“It’s not an offering, it’s a product,” I tried to explain, but the other department heads had joined him, all staring at the now-empty circle with newfound religious fervor.
“The pathways to the void itself,” Magister Wiggles whispered, reaching out to tentatively touch the edge of the fading circle. “Just as the ancient texts foretold: ‘And lo, the Void-Touched One shall establish commerce with the darkness, and prosperity shall flow like shadow-water.’”
I was pretty sure no ancient text had ever used the phrase “shadow-water,” but I let it slide.
“Each department will have dedicated fulfillment circles installed in your work areas,” I continued, trying to bring the focus back to practicalities. “For larger shipments, you canactivate expanded circles that can accommodate crates or bulk materials.”
General Smashington, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke. “These circles… they can transport anything? Of any size?”
“Within reason,” I confirmed. “Though there are weight and volume limits based on your account level.”
The massive general’s eyes gleamed with a concerning intensity. “And if one were to… hypothetically… step into such a circle during activation?”
“Absolutely not!” I said firmly, suddenly envisioning interdimensional incidents involving accidentally shipped demon generals. “These are for products only. Living beings are strictly prohibited.”
“Of course, my lord,” he agreed too quickly. “Merely a theoretical inquiry.”
I made a mental note to have Supremo implement additional safety protocols on General Smashington’s account.
“Just remember,” I cautioned as they filed out, terminals clutched reverently to their chests, “quality control is essential. We’re building Iferona’s reputation as a premium supplier. And please, review your product descriptions before posting them.” I looked pointedly at Duke Splashypants, who had already drafted an alarmingly suggestive description for his “Penetrating Moisture Essence.”
As they left, Lord Taxman lingered behind, his expression uncharacteristically emotional.
