Those words sprayed out in all directions like an area of effect Nova and damaged or slew other ongoing conversations. King Ostros turned to listen while General Anstralia was speaking to him, an unprecedented rudeness. Hemt T. Elf broke off from agreeing with Santa C. Dorenz that a puppet pair of Santa and one of his elves would be a fine inclusion and that Coremel's accusations were wholly without merit. Ben I. Sloup rubbed his right ear to make sure it had not fallen off as a result of some strange infection contracted in another game.

“Right? The ones with pretty much no actual facial characteristics. I'm not even sure they have a nose. It's like the artist drew the rest of the character and left the face to his little nephew after giving him one of those how to draw lessons where you just make some squares, triangles, and circles. Then add detail! But they don't tell you how to do that. The result is a generic dude with no flair at all.”

Ulrik tapped the shoulders of Burmin Trivvis and Saptres Muria, who nodded and began to walk toward the clutch of officers that generated such hateful comments. Solemn Declaration approached in a manner to which some horse term probably applied. Even Cadmos perked up when he heard that, despite his superhuman ability to ignore insults.

“When you see a character like that, get ready for swords. You might even get a double-sword to double-distract you from how boring the mannequin holding it is. I'm not criticizing, though. You can never satisfy every taste, even in a game with as many characters as ours, so it makes sense to put in a few with broad but shallow appeal. Very shallow. If the escort title really has twelve guys in it max, well, there could still be some crazies in with Shoto Blandings over there anchoring the whole thing. So who're some wild officers you'd never expect? I want to start expecting them.”

Captain Hwanimesca failed to notice the ring of disgruntled officers closing in till Cadmos addressed her in a temperate tone. “Being enthusiastic about character design is commendable, but I think it's better not to insult the artists who—”

He encountered some difficulty finishing his speech in the form of being restrained in a King Ostros headlock. Under the circumstances, a replacement was required, and Ulrik resembled Cadmos with a bottle of black hair dye and poor impulse control. “Generic dudes are the height of artistic achievement. Count how many main characters the amateur would claim to be identical to Cadmos. It's all of them. How are those games doing? Half of them close within two years, and half of the games that close have T**** o* in the title, but that's a separate point. The main point is right there in our fate-cleaving chins. Get out your rulers and protractors to start measuring. You'll see that variations in facial angles are too subtle to detect for the eye, but not for the heart.”

“That's right, newcomer,” Solemn Declaration affirmed. “Execution is key. Fine details set apart the greater from the lesser, and not only for the elegant, efficient designs you disparage. Everything has been done somewhere. Knights, centaur bow knights, maids, tsunderes, green archers, amazons, shortstacks, sexy space pirates, remorseful space pirates, doctors, older gentlemen with a twinkle in their eyes, cheerful priestesses, koalas with big signs, secret agents . . .”

“Is this necessary?”

He ignored Wruden Calx's question. “. . . rock stars, accountants, sassy girl reporters, big gangsters, medium gangsters, gangster werewolves, hot twins, a woman with a deranged expression who is generally quite congenial, hard-boiled lady detectives, taciturn hunters, Santa (multiple), stylish duchesses, intense counts, gimp reindeer . . .”

“Hey!” Dasher Christmas objected to that description, but to no purpose. A new nickname was born.

“. . . inventors who specialize in hot air balloons, sailors, youthful architects, blonde beach ninjas, vampires . . .”

“A sexy cowgirl and a vaguely handsome young man are equally generic. Is the point. I think.” Ben I. Sloup preferred not to interrupt people, but there are limits. There are always limits.

Ulrik, on the other hand, strongly preferred to interrupt whenever possible. “It either is the point or should be. And when I see all those fashionable clothes, accessories, gimmicks, and exotic weapons, I start to wonder. What are they covering up? That's what I wonder, in case that part wasn't clear. Usually power creep or complete story irrelevance. But we, I mean Cadmos, but I really mean me, can't rely on immediate visual appeal. We need substance. That's the reason Cadmos will not be a shoto. He won't be low tier. He'll be the most electrifying, energizing, something else that starts with E . . .”

“Entertaining? Exasperating? Effervescent?”

“Thanks, UR Quake Harasser Ben I. Sloup. The most esteemed fighter in Commandment of Hero: Ersatz Struggle. That in turn will be the biggest fighting release of the week.”

“I don't know what to say, guys.” The other officers had never seen Cadmos so moved. “I've never been so moved. Thanks for letting me out, by the way.”

“Of course,” said King Ostros Perandra, the king of Perandra Regna, whom his parents had named Ostros. “I suggest we repair to the garden to plan your training regimen right away. Judging by Dosellian Urapta's reaction, you're more of a comedy character right now. Come, come.” He put his hand on Cadmos's back and steered him away. “All of you unadorned gentlemen, come. You too, Solemn Declaration.”

“. . . science fiction martial arts instructor, no-nonsense lady sword fighter who became a yacht captain, blob-skinned dog breeder and trainer, con artist, chef . . .”

The generic dudes left, which signaled to all the remaining officers that the day's excitement was done. A shindig too boring to hold guys like that offered nothing to real party enjoyers. They wandered off to see how Slay Every Dragon's slayers were coming along now that they had something in common, ran to catch the new episode of Single Soul's third season, meandered while pondering whether Azalea or Azinsia had a better chance of making it in and which one was which anyway, or sauntered somewhere with a sure purpose in mind, swinging a pick and humming.

Construction! Both the pan-ludic ministry headed by Eten and the act. As for the location, the area surrounding the data renewal facility demanded improvement. Eten himself supervised. “Nice to not have to worry about hiding all this from the players. No trees or rocks to clear either. Hey, Puck! Put your hard hat on and bend with your knees!”

“Poke me, prick me, drop a pile of gold on me, but I will never be harmed.”

Eten folded his arms. “Sure, that makes sense. The problem is that the UTASes won't recognize you as a worker. If you pick up any government tools or materials, they might get mad.”

“Ahhh!”

“There you go.” He wiped his forehead. “I'm not sure using UTASes for his kind of job is a good idea, but Metatron asked us to try out this new model, so . . .”

“You're as obliging as always, Master Eten.” Skaya frowned. “I don't like the way you wiped your own forehead, though. You're not thinking of firing me, are you?”

“Sorry, Skaya. I was hoping you would deal with the press instead.” Eten pointed to Society Page Lasva, who was standing on tippy-toes and straining to lift a microphone as high as possible to Eten's mouth.

“Ignoring her works pretty well, Master Eten.”

“I'm afraid I'll trip over her and lose my hard hat, and then the UTASes will do I don't know what.”

“Oh! Right.” Skaya picked Lasva up and carried her over to the fence, beyond which less pushy officers stood to watch the proceedings. She plopped her cargo down on the non-business side of it. “Question time is opened.”

“That would be great if I wanted to know how to get a stain out, but I'm too busy searching for the truth to eat, drink, or talk to a maid.” Lasva leapt over the fence into Skaya's fist, fell back, and rose again. “Forget this. I'll just ask Cadmos how ashamed he is of all the perquisites he gets just for being the main character.”

“We are deserted by the deserving journalists, so jejune as it is, I will ask a question. If that's quite all right with you, Skaya.”

“Certainly, Count Poitnem. Or Count Poitula. I'm very sorry, but I have trouble telling which version you're in.”

Count Poitnem smiled and stretched his arms to reveal all his ruffles, buttons, and other frippery. “Likewise. I sneak glances at my own status all too frequently. Forgetting that, what I wish to ask is what is being built, who bade that it be done, and who will trouble himself to visit but that a bullet train line is strung between this site and Freegate?”

“Wruden Calx got permission from the upper chamber to borrow Construction as long as he provided all the building materials. Apparently, he wants to put up houses for the use of fighters and their fan clubs.”

“And rake in the rent?”

“That's where you're wrong, Mr. Poitnem.” Wruden Calx swaggered in, his top hat looking perkier than ever. “Verified persons will be allowed to establish themselves up in those properties for free. Don't think this is a charity operation, though. The food stations that will go up around the plaza in front of the entrance next will bring in a good return, I think. That train idea isn't bad either, which is why I already thought of it. A nobleman with a head for business is a scary thing, but I'm ahead of you still.”

The curious officers watched the heaps, piles, and truckloads of materials Construction hauled in with mild interest, but it sharpened when Road Empress Vinnette Melban rode in on her titanic landship.

“How's Wruden Calx paying for all this? He's only rich in the story, isn't he?”

“Do they think this game's gonna have a S**** B*******-sized roster? A star-studded selection of the brightest lights in the night sky of gaming history?”

“I want a Class Evolution too!”

“You just got in.”

“Even so.”

Wruden Calx leaned against the fence, still watching his plans take form, an aura of anticipation growing around him like a cocoon from which he would someday emerge as a businessman level two. “I have partners in this enterprise who would prefer not to be pestered by Lasvas, Sawajimas, and so forth. Patience is part of what I bring to the deal. The rest is decisiveness. A lot of parties are able see the potential in any given situation, and so business and speed are inseparable. There, look at that.” He pointed at a bungalow that already had everything it needed. It lacked only the roof, an optional extra in that weatherless expanse. The eager lads and lasses of Construction improved their efficiency and technique every day. “The first of eighteen. Too many for release day if our fight-followers are correct, but we have to think of the DLC, as well as the cost of getting Eten back out here instead of doing it all at once. A penny pinched is a penny spent later, only worse, in my experience.”