Chapter 97
Flange Orphanage, City: Three Prongs Fork, Republic of Shantu, Continent: Barat, the Year 2031, Planet: Grimoire
The previous night seemed utterly unreal to Grifton as if it never happened. However, it was indeed very real when he heard the news of another interim Director being hired because no one could reach Doyle Moline.
As Grifton suspected, he'd likely gone into hiding to prevent further harassment and persecution for the Orphanage's inhabitants. Unfortunately, that hadn't worked out as he'd intended. With the new Director came new changes, and that meant more difficulties for the remaining orphans. Indeed, those close to Grifton in age but not appearance were given complicated tasks.
While uncertain what that change meant, Grifton wasn't surprised when bullying, intimidation, and threats became a common problem. He soon learned which orphans were willing to fight back and trained them in the best usage of magic that conserved their mana. As a result, Grifton headed a gang that would take down bullies without getting caught.
However, it was only a short-term solution to a situation that wouldn't improve with the new staff in charge who intentionally encouraged the animosity between the older orphans and the younger ones who couldn't leave even if they wanted to.
With all the conflicts around the republic's borders, Grifton knew that the older orphans wouldn't have a choice of what careers they wanted. They would come of age to join the military with no other choice because of the mandatory conscription now in effect. Especially if they wished to guarantee shelter over their heads, food in their bellies, and clothing on their backs.
Three months passed since that searing summer night, and Grifton contemplated what else was happening. "I do wonder how the Commander is doing." He'd continued working as a laborer with Denby.
Right now, it was the only work he could do since he still technically wasn't of age to go off the property. Not that he didn't do it occasionally, but it was very sparse compared to other years.
Denby grunted. "The word spread around right now is that his units are on a hair trigger. Anything could set them off into a brawl."
Grifton winced. That wasn't good at all. "I had hoped that some of my goods would ease the tension." He admitted wearily. "I guess there wasn't enough to go around, huh?"
Denby snorted. "That isn't the problem, Grifton." He shook his head. "I've heard that some merchants are pocketing both the goods and the profits and not delivering them to the recipient, but rather reselling them elsewhere." His mouth tightened.
"I see." Grifton grimaced.
Now, the only way to get his goods to market was through Denby and other group members so that they were sold. The profits were split evenly between Grifton and the men in the group. It was the only way they could survive now.
"So that means we're going to have to take a more proactive approach to the problem." Grifton wouldn't be able to remain in the background any longer. He would have to begin crafting more goods to make up for the loss of profit that was happening. "How much longer do you think we will continue in the orchards?"
Not only that but the orchards were also being targeted as a way to reduce work labor. Grifton figured that it was only a matter of time before all of them were removed, except for those that would produce the most considerable number of profits short and long-term, of course.
Denby shook his head. "I don't know. Ever since Lula Cross was fired for the most obnoxious reasons. We don't have a decent specialist among the ranks."
Corley Rufus had also been let go as well. Grifton exhaled. "I can't help but see a trend going on here, and it isn't a good one either."
"Nope, it isn't." Denby agreed with a sigh.
"Ah, here come the others," Grifton murmured. "They don't seem happy about coming all the way out here either."
Five minutes later, he stood with Denby and the remaining team members.
Grifton surveyed them with a glum expression.
"Hey Denby, what do you think we can accomplish today?" Cyan looked at Grifton dubiously. "Is this kid that good at his role?"
"Yeah, I'd like to see him in action," Conner grumbled. "We were always split up in the past, so I never saw him at work."
Brennan snorted. "Get Yer heads straight, whiners." He frowned at Cyan and Conner. "You've watched him do his work many times. Why are you acting as if you've had your mind wiped."
Hmm, Grifton looked at the two men warily. Now that he thought about it, Brennan had a point. Not only that, but Morton was actually distancing him from them. What was that all about?
Denby sighed. "Well, now I can't say for certain, with those two numbskulls acting so oddly." He glowered at Cyan and Brennan. "Maybe something was done to them after all?"
When Cyan and Brennan frowned at each other in consternation and grimaced, They clutched their heads with pained yelps.
"Now, what is happening?" Morton frowned.
Denby shook his head. "Classic symptoms of someone meddling with their memories and not doing a good job of blocking them either." He looked at Grifton. "I think you'll need to do a check on them with the psychic gift that you have."
What had been a good group of ten was now reduced to six. What a nuisance. "Fine, I'll check them over." Grifton agreed, though very reluctantly.
He only came within five feet of the two men. Cyan and Brennan tensed, staring at him warily.
"I'm not going to touch you two," Grifton reassured them.
The two men relaxed. "Can we sit down?" Brennan asked after a moment.
"I don't think I can stand up. My head is threatening to split open." Cyan admitted with a scowl.
"Sure, go ahead." It might be better for them to do so. Who knew what might happen if they tried to remain upright. Grifton watched them carefully. Then he lifted his hands and had his palms facing their foreheads. Grifton concentrated and sighed. "Well, they definitely went through some kind of procedure, and it wasn't with their consent either." He couldn't believe the mess that was made out of their minds. Fortunately, he was able to heal the wounds inflicted on them. "They're still going to have problems with their short-term memory, but at least everything else is restored."
Cyan and Brennan blinked and relaxed as his actions lifted the horrible pain. "Ah, now we do recognize you." Cyan looked ashamed of himself. "Sorry about that. How embarrassing." He shook his head in aggravation.
"That's right," Brennan frowned. He patted his pants. "Where is it?" His dismay became more apparent. "Blast it. Don't tell me the stuff was stolen along with our memories." His rising fury made Grifton frown in bafflement.
"Check your inner pocket, dumbass," Cyan informed him. "Here, see? I still managed to keep mine intact despite the interrogation that happened." His eyes widened. "Uh, someone interrogated and then wrecked our minds so we wouldn't remember anything."
"That's what it appears to be," Grifton confirmed. "So, what did happen?"
The two men scowled. "Right, after that last time, we went to sell your goods." Brennan recounted. "We made quite the tidy profit but decided to get some gossip about anything else odd going on."
"That's when we learned about some of those crooked merchant groups trying to ruin your good rep." Cyan scowled. "We were going to report them to the guild, but someone knocked me over." He shook his head. "That's the last thing I remember."
Brennan nodded. "I, too, had the same thing happen." He smirked at Cyan. "Only I managed to report to the Guild." His smirk faded when he recalled. "I also had the presence of mind to warn Lamberton about those thieving merchants masquerading under his seal."
Hmm, so it turns out that Lamberton was aware of what happened. Not that he was likely to do anything without hard evidence. So, he would have to create something unique for his name and status. That would be the only way to distinguish his goods and their quality, from what those riffraff tended to sell commonly.
"Thanks for letting us know what happened," Denby murmured. Now we're going to complete our duties, possibly for the last time, today." He looked grim and resigned.
Unsettled by the current atmosphere, which was dark and angry, Grifton exhaled. "So, how long do you think we'll be able to continue our work at this rate?"
Denby shrugged. "Six months at most." He glanced at Grifton. "What are your plans?" It was obvious that Denby knew what he had in mind. He was just curious as to how Grifton would accomplish his new goals.
That wasn't something he'd managed to figure out yet. "I don't know right now, even though I have thought of a few ideas." Uncertain of how much he should tell them, Grifton shrugged. "I'll start creating something with a unique design or insignia that no one else can easily reproduce."
Denby nodded. "Well, I can figure out some way of getting you off the property once a month," he offered after considering what Grifton had to work with. "Try to come up with something in that period when we're not at work in the orchards."
Now that Grifton had a deadline, he could get his priorities in order. "that sounds good." He would have to do some research. Preferably where there were no prying eyes to spy on his activities. "Unfortunately, the library in the Orphanage is very limited in what I can access compared to our earlier years." He was lucky to have been able to read as many scrolls, tomes, and other items as he had the chance as a little kid.
Now they are all set to work, trying to maintain a standard they'd set when having a team of ten people. It was a bit trickier doing it with only six. Fortunately, Grifton figured out ways to maintain the pace and keep up the quality.
What dismayed him was that they lost two more people in the following months and were dropped to four in the group. It was a battle against time and attrition of no longer sufficient workforce since Denby was denied receiving more assistance from his relatives, even as volunteers.