George Knows Best [Mud Wizard LitRPG]

Bob was going on a date. Bob was going on a date with Sophie. It was a home date, romantic restaurants being somewhat lacking in the mud city. Bob had manfully volunteered to cook and Sophie had gallantly offered to host.

Bob was a practical cook. He had two or three recipes mastered. They all tasted good, looked impressive, and were actually very easy to make. Today, he'd gone with his beef hot pot. He trudged along with lidded pot in hand and a cork pot stand under his arm. He just about managed to knock on the front door with his elbow.

"Come in. It's open."

Bob needed thirty seconds to shuffle around his grip long enough to get the door handle. Yes, Sophie had her own house now. She was the Mrs. Monopoly of the town. Blanchet Dairy was a booming success. The enterprise employed over twenty sentients at this point, including a rare Monster Breeder class. Sophie was printing money. And Bob had never seen the woman so jolly.

Flush with wealth, she had (strangely) decided she didn't want to bunk with Bob and his golden retriever. Instead, she had constructed herself a grand homestead in Uruk downtown. She'd bucked the mud brick trend, going for a wooden aesthetic, claiming to have developed a crippling aversion to mud and mud smells. She might have picked the wrong town to live in.

"Sophie, where do you want the food?"

"In the dining room—it's your first left."

"Sophie, a word of warning on the pot stand. This bugger sticks to the bottom like a demon," Bob remarked helpfully as he laid out the stand and lowered the steaming pot on top.

"Don't baby me, Robert."

"Apologies, I only say it because it happens to me."

Sophie was still getting ready in the other room. Bob surveyed the bare, unset table and shook his head. A few mental clicks later and he had a white tablecloth laid out, a few nice bowls, two grand wine glasses, and a chilled bottle of the system's finest. Bob frowned. Something was missing. He had it: a candle. You can't have a romantic dinner without that red, orange play of an open flame.

Sophie wandered in. She looked amazing. A long, black dress and her hair pulled up. She always looked amazing. Well not that one time Bob had mistaken her for a mud-drenched slug squelching out of the underground. Or, remembering, that other time she'd stone-fisted a cow to death while screaming her lungs out. But most of the time.

Bob too had done his best to look respectable. He had a jacket on and a nicer shirt. He was wearing shoes for heaven's sake.

"Sophie come in. Sit down. Can I pour you a glass of wine?"

"I suppose."

Bob hesitated, realized he was a poor hand at uncorking, realized he was a millionaire, zoomed through the system shop, found one of those expensive uncorking contraptions that a toddler could use, smiled confidently, uncorked the wine and poured her a taste.

"This is good. It must be a French wine."

Bob had ordered randomly by price. What were the chances it was a French wine? He'd get her this time. Bob checked the bottle. Of course, she was on the money.

"A 1995 Bordeaux. The system must have evacuated the world's supply."

Beautiful women look especially beautiful swirling crimson liquid around in eloquently steamed glasses. At least that was Bob's opinion.

"First congratulations Sophie. The new house is marvelous. Love the wood finish. Smells like a forest. And I heard you evolved. Rank D already."

"It is pleasant to be comfortable. Things become smoother. I put together a team of adventurers and they helped me to subdue a Rank D monster, shall we say. Now if only there weren't these bandits prowling about..."

"But they stay well back from the city walls, don't they?"

"For now. People say they might attack any day."

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This was not good date conversation. Bob figured a topic change was called for. "So Rank D. Did you change class? And a new power?" Bob wiggled his eyebrows questioningly.

"Hush. I must keep my little advantages. But," seeing Bob starting to complain, "I will let you in on one little thing. I can now see a person's class when I identify them."

Bob jumped to his feet. "Sophie, you've got to tell me what George's class is. I've been dying to know for ages. Let's go. Let's go."

"Robert, would you really prefer to go and see that mongrel, or to sit here with me and enjoy a quiet dinner together?"

There was a wrong answer to that question. "What was I thinking? More wine, Sophie."

"So gentlemanly," she extended her glass, "now Robert, you simply must explain how you ended up with so many credits. I looked into system construction myself, you know, and your place must have required a small fortune."

"Yeah that's about right. 800k or so if I remember." Bob remarked as he spooned a meatball into his mouth.

"Eight hundred thousand..." Sophie seemed to savor the figure. "How does one become so fabulously wealthy?"

"You remember that fourth challenge," Bob managed to say around a large mushroom, "the casino one."

"Most certainly. That was my favorite."

"Come again?" Bob coughed through an over-sized potato.

"Well nobody seriously considered betting, did they?"

Bob spluttered a little and had to napkin up his trouser legs, "Sophie, it's not good to assume. I'm sure some people did."

"Robert, you and I, we don't need to worry about such simpletons."

"Er... So what was your strategy?"

"I just," she shrugged in that exaggerated French way; somehow it was damn attractive on her, "you know, I sat down beside a fine gentleman with a tall hat and nice, black suit. He was most pleased with my company. One of those fake people, who bet their chips like they were pieces of paper."

"And then what?"

"Well the man barely knew how many chips he had. He would hardly not notice when a few of them went missing."

"You stole!"

"It's not stealing. To take from an imaginary person. A program. And of course, I didn't see any reason to stop at the exit fee. The chips were there for the taking. But Robert, 800,000 credits, a lifetime would not have been enough to take so many. How did you manage it?"

Bob's face lit up. He could always smell an advantage. "Sophie, Sophie, Sophie."

"I dislike it when you say my name so."

"Sophie, a person can get by with little 'tricks' like that. They'll keep your stomach full and the rain off your back. But if you ever want to become someone special... That won't cut it at all."

"Oh? And will Robert deign to help the poor lady up his high horse?"

"Sophie," Bob grinned, "now what if I told you, I took every single chip the casino had. What if I told you, I bankrupted the establishment. Hell, what if I said, I got banned for life from ever setting foot in a system casino."

"I would say I didn't believe you."

"Sophie, tut, tut, tut, I thought we knew each other."

Bob shared his achievement.

Achievement: Bringing Down the House

Description: Players are supposed to lose.

Bankrupt a system casino.

Effect:

Lifetime ban from all system casinos.

A medium percentage bonus to luck.

"Robert... I... but... I am humbled." And then she seemed to think of something. "Surely there must have been more than 800,000 credits in the casino?"

"Naturally."

"How many, about, if you would be so kind."

"5 million credits."

Sophie's face lit up with more awe and respect than Bob had even seen there before.

"You, had, five, million, credits?"

"Just shy. Obviously I've spent a fair amount by now. But still a couple cool million in the bank."

"But how? Robert you must say. Tell me your secret. Please for Sophie."

Bob tapped his nose. "How about some food, Sophie. You haven't touched anything."

She tried a spoonful of soup. "It is already cold."

Because you spent so long talking, Bob wanted to say, but he didn't. "I'll go heat it up." Bob picked up the pot and brought it over to the stove (system gas). There was a lot of liquid. It would need a minute. Bob left it there to reboil and went back to Sophie.

Sophie was shaking her head and smelling her wine. "There is something about you Bob. I can't help underestimating you."

"That's one of my chief strengths."

"You know, I actually believe you. Sometimes I find myself strangely attracted to you. I can't explain it."

This date was going swimmingly. Bob should start all his dates by counting out the zeros in his bank account.

"I get that a lot."

She scoffed and smiled. She swirled around the red wine. She smelled it. She smiled predatorily. She tasted it. She leaned across the small table. There was something about her scent. Something intoxicating. Bob swallowed. His heart rate noticeably increasing.

"Robert... Robert... Robert..."

"Sophie, I really like it when you say my name like that."

"Robert... Robert... Robert..."

This was the moment right. Bob was staring into her dark eyes. Her long, black hair framing her face and the white skin of her cheeks contrasting with the deep, burgundy red of the wineglass. She was so close to him. He readied himself. He breathed in. He edged a little closer in his seat. He was going to do this. Be a man, Bob. Be a man. He leaned forward.

"Do you smell smoke?" She turned.

"The... the Bandit king! The city must be under attack. He's breached the walls!"

Sophie froze. Bob saw her eyes sparkle with fear. She looked at him. She looked at him with a pleading expression, desperate and hopeful at the same time. Bob might just have fallen for her then and there.

"Sophie, quick. To my underground bunker. You'll be safe there."

"But Robert, where will you go?"

"The Mud Magician goes to war."