All in Charisma (A LitRPG/Isekai Adventure)

That afternoon, Justin decided it was time to handle Atlas's registration. With business operations starting soon, the construct would be invaluable for securing deliveries, and he couldn't afford another encounter with city guards questioning his permit.

The walk to City Hall took him through increasingly prosperous districts until he reached the Royal Quarter by the Golden Gulf. The marble steps of the imposing government building rose before him like a white waterfall, each step polished to a mirror brightness by decades of foot traffic.

From the top of the steps, Justin got his first clear view of the Royal Palace. The structure was breathtaking—a sprawling complex of interconnected white-marbled buildings set against manicured grounds. Soaring spires of white stone caught the afternoon light, while vast geometric gardens stretched toward the cliffs overlooking the Golden Gulf. Red banners bearing the royal crest of the Rooster Rampant fluttered from numerous towers, and Justin could see the glint of armored guards patrolling the perimeter wall.

After asking around inside the echoing corridors of City Hall, Justin found himself at the Office of Arcane Vehicles, a cramped room staffed by a bored-looking clerk who seemed surprised to have an actual petitioner.

"Construct registration?" the man asked.

"That's right. My companion needs proper documentation."

The process was remarkably straightforward. Justin signed a form describing Atlas as a "personal security construct," paid five silvers, and received a small metal plate stamped with an official number.

"Attach this somewhere visible on the construct," the clerk instructed. "Registration is valid for two years. Next!"

Upon leaving the building, Justin summoned Atlas from his ring in the courtyard. The spider construct appeared before him, regarding him with its red eye pieces and beeping a bit dejectedly.

"I know," Justin said. "It's been a busy few days. I hope you can forgive me."

Atlas looked down at the metal registration plate in Justin's hands, beeping curiously.

"You'll have to wear this on your carapace," Justin said. "I'm not exactly sure how it works, but..."

He placed the plate on Atlas's side, and it seemed to adhere of its own accord, clearly enchanted somehow. Atlas clicked, producing a surprisingly agreeable sound.

"There we go. You're officially street legal now."

Atlas clicked his approval and fell into step beside Justin as they ventured into the city; thankfully, the machine was quick to forgive. The construct's presence drew curious glances from passersby, but the official registration plate seemed to satisfy anyone who looked twice. Justin found himself enjoying the company, and the fact that people naturally cleared space for him made their progress much easier.

As they returned to their headquarters, Justin paused before the threshold. "I can't fit you through the front door, but I know everyone wants to see your new official status."

He absorbed Atlas back into his ring and then entered through the front door. The team was gathered in the main showroom, but something felt off—everyone was present yet unusually quiet, their earlier enthusiasm dampened. Even Ardabel Kilgan hadn't gone home yet, though given the late hour, he was well within his rights to do so.

"What's going on?" Justin asked. "And before we get to that—Atlas is now officially registered!"

He summoned the construct again to the center of the room. Atlas materialized with his characteristic mechanical whir, the new registration plate gleaming on his carapace.

"Look at you, all official now."

Lila was smiling, but something clearly weighed on her mind, judging by her troubled green eyes. This probably wasn't the best time to show off Atlas, but Justin felt it was important to deliver the good news.

"Well, something's clearly wrong," Justin said. "What happened while I was gone?"

That's when he noticed a letter lying on the front counter, its seal broken.

"A courier dropped it off about an hour ago," Lila explained. "You should read it."

Justin picked up the parchment:

To the Proprietor of this New and Promising Establishment,

Greetings from the Guild of Apothecaries and Distillers of Belmora.

It has come to our attention that your business—while new—has already begun to offer alchemical tonics, brews, and enchantments to the public. We commend your ambition. It is our belief that the success of one contributes to the success of all, provided it adheres to proper civic order.

To that end, we kindly request that you register your activities with the Guild at your earliest convenience. Our registrars are available by appointment at the Guildhall on Canal Row.

Please prepare the following:

Name and credentials of all Guild-licensed practitioners involved in alchemical or enchantment work

A comprehensive ledger of products offered or intended for public sale

A statement of purpose regarding magical applications (e.g., whether any products alter perception, vitality, or elemental states)

Your proposed pricing structure

Please note: unregistered trade in alchemical goods or enchantments may result in fines, seizure of goods, or suspension of operations until compliance is achieved.

Let us begin this relationship as friends and neighbors. We look forward to your cooperation.

In fellowship,

Leo Vernasse

Secretary of Commerce and Inspection
Guild of Apothecaries and Distillers of Belmora

Justin set the parchment down. "It has to be Galloway. We embarrassed him at that auction, and now he's using his guild connections for revenge."

"I would agree with that assessment," Kilgan replied quietly. "I apologize for the trouble this has caused. It was not my intention to involve other parties."

Justin waved him off, understanding the complicated dynamics that had led to this moment. "What's your read on the situation?"

Stolen novel; please report.

The Alchemist cleared his throat. "This is standard procedure when the Guild wants to investigate a new operation. However, they've phrased it as if you have already begun operations, which simply isn't true. So, you haven't broken any rules yet. By law, they cannot force you to join the Guild or adhere to their standards. That said, refusing to cooperate, at least to some extent, is not advisable."

"The main thing I'm worried about is whether they're really going to escalate this."

"That depends entirely on Galloway's influence and his appetite for revenge," Kilgan said. "He's quite aggressive in stamping out perceived competition, especially when he judges them to be small and without resources."

"What's our best move?" Justin asked.

Kilgan hesitated, and Justin immediately noticed the subtle change in his tone. "Well, normally I'd recommend consulting with a lawyer who specializes in commercial compliance. Of course, that can be expensive, and most start-ups don't have that kind of capital. The Guild of Apothecaries can be a nuisance to work with, but if you try to operate entirely outside their purview, you're going to have a bad time. It's best to work with them, or at least give the appearance of cooperation, but the fact they've sent this letter so early doesn't bode well."

"So how do we respond? Do we ignore it, or do we actually need to go through the proper channels?"

"You don't ignore it," Kilgan said firmly. "But at the same time, you don't simply roll over. If you give them an inch, they'll take far more. I doubt Galloway sees you as a serious threat, but he is exactly the kind of man who would send a message. His Consortium has been gaining power within the Guild, using its rules and regulations—or even inventing new ones—to eliminate players they don't like."

"Is that what happened to you?" Lila asked.

"What happened to me is a long and complicated story," Kilgan replied. "But we aren't discussing that right now. We're focusing on what you can do." He licked his lips nervously. "There is someone who knows the Guild's inner workings better than most. His name is Mortimer Harvings. He used to be their chief legal counsel before..." Kilgan winced. "Before he was expelled for certain alleged irregularities in his practice. He happens to be a friend of mine, if that term applies."

"What kind of irregularities?" Alistair asked.

"The charitable interpretation is that he prioritized his clients' interests over the Guild's preferences. The less charitable version involves accusations of bribery, document falsification, and helping businesses circumvent regulations." Kilgan shook his head. "I wouldn't recommend hiring him outright; his reputation is thoroughly tarnished. But as a source of information about how the Guild operates, how they think, and what they're really after, he might be invaluable. I'm sure he'd welcome the coin from a consulting session; gods know he probably needs it. When you're blacklisted from one guild, you might as well be blacklisted from them all."

"Where would we find this Mortimer?" Lila asked.

"The Drowning Dragon, most afternoons. He's... well, he's taken to drowning his professional sorrows in ale. Not the most inspiring sight, but his mind is still sharp when he's not completely in his cups." Kilgan's expression grew more serious. "The real question is whether you want to risk being seen talking to him. Guild politics has a long memory, and associating with Harvings could mark you as troublemakers from the start."

"As if we aren't already," Justin said dryly.

He absorbed this information, weighing their options. A disgraced lawyer with inside knowledge could be exactly what they needed—or precisely the kind of association that would worsen their situation.

"At a minimum," Justin decided, "we need to understand what we're dealing with. Maybe this Harvings can give us some ideas or at least help us slow things down with the Guild—long enough to get off the ground, start making money, and hopefully build influence."

"A sound approach," Kilgan agreed, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely convinced. "Just remember: in guild politics, perception often matters more than reality. Be very careful about which bridges you choose to burn. And, as in most situations, problems tend to disappear if you have powerful friends. Something to think about." He nodded toward the door. "Well, I must be off. Same time tomorrow, Ms. Fairwind?"

Lila nodded. "Same time."

Kilgan grabbed his coat and satchel before leaving through the back entrance.

"Well," Rinna said with a smile that did little to brighten the mood, "quite a lot to deal with for not even being open yet, huh?"

Justin was about to respond when a measured knock echoed from the front door. He felt an immediate sense of misgiving. After the guild letter, unexpected visitors seemed unlikely to bring good news.

He opened the door to find someone unexpected: Kethril, the varkiss from The Warming Stone, standing in the alley with what might have been a friendly expression. It was hard to tell with reptilian features, but his yellow eyes seemed genuinely pleased to see Justin. Justin noted the long dagger at his belt, which appeared to be more of a personal sidearm than anything menacing.

"Kethril?" Justin asked. "Please, come in. How may I help you?"

"Mr. Talemaker! No need; this will be a short visit. I was simply in the neighborhood and thought I would check on your progress. Are you open for business yet?"

"Not quite," Justin replied carefully, his enhanced Insightful Gaze immediately picking up subtle tensions in the varkiss's posture. "We're hoping to launch operations soon, though."

At that moment, Atlas scuttled forward, looming behind Justin. Atlas positioned himself so that one of his front struts was practically touching Justin, while Justin could hear his red eyes whir as they focused on the unexpected visitor.

Kethril's yellow eyes widened slightly, and Justin noticed his posture shift—not quite defensive, but certainly more alert and respectful.

"Impressive companion," Kethril said, his tone now infused with genuine admiration. "Official registration, I see. Well maintained. Such constructs are quite expensive to acquire and operate."

"Atlas takes his duties seriously," Justin replied evenly.

"Excellent, excellent." Kethril's neck frill fluttered, his earlier casual confidence tempered by the construct's presence. "Well, I won't be long. I only wanted to say that there are many obstacles in starting a business, yes? You think you've considered everything, sailing with fair winds, and then the current shifts. Storm clouds form on the horizon."

Justin's blood chilled. "Yes, how astute. I'm beginning to suspect the purpose of this visit."

"I suppose it was somewhat obvious," Kethril said, his tone remaining conversational but now tinged with added respect. "I only wanted to mention that, like sudden squalls, business can be unpredictable. This neighborhood can be the same way. Many businesses find it worthwhile to have someone keeping an eye out for trouble. Local knowledge, you understand. Preventing problems before they arise."

Atlas whirred quietly, tracking every movement of the varkiss.

"And what kind of trouble do you foresee?" Justin asked.

"Nothing specific, I hope," Kethril said with a shrug, though his eyes never left Atlas. "But a business with such substantial assets naturally attracts attention—both welcome and unwelcome."

"Don't tell me you're with the Crimson Scales," Justin said flatly.

Kethril's expression remained unchanged, but something shifted in his yellow eyes—a glimmer of respect for Justin's directness, perhaps, or approval that the game could now be played openly.

"The Scales have many friends throughout the community, Mr. Talemaker. Not all of them carry spears or demand tribute. Some simply facilitate understanding between neighbors." His gaze flicked to Atlas again. "As you mentioned, you wish to serve our community. I commend this goal; we varkiss appreciate such inclusiveness. That said, we are a mercantile race. We always expect proper exchange, but the human way of doing business can be unnecessarily... regulated, if you catch my drift."

There was nothing in Kethril's demeanor to suggest he knew anything about the guild letter. Justin was confident his Insightful Gaze would have detected that.

Kethril simply understood how business worked in this city, offering an alternative—suggesting that perhaps if Summon & Supply fell under the Scales' purview, it would provide a shield against guild politics.

"I appreciate your concern for our welfare," Justin replied evenly, his hand resting casually on his cane while Atlas maintained his protective stance. "We'll certainly keep your friendly, neighborly advice in mind."

"I'm sure you will." Kethril's neck frill rippled again, his tone more deferential than when he had arrived. "Please give my regards to Cousin Szara. And do remember—the Scales value businesses that contribute to community stability, especially those with the resources to... ensure their own security." His eyes fixed on Atlas one final time. "Such partnerships tend to be mutually beneficial. Good day."

With that pointed farewell, the varkiss turned and walked away, leaving Justin with the unsettling certainty that Summon & Supply had just attracted the attention of forces far more dangerous than guild bureaucrats.

Justin closed the door with a sigh, facing his team, most of whom had been watching the exchange with wide eyes.

He forced a smile. "The honeymoon is over, it seems. Let's wrap up for the day. I suspect tonight's business meeting will be particularly interesting."