The echo of Thomas MacIntyre's augmented presence lingered in Elias Thorne's apartment long after the Scotsman had departed, toolbox in hand, to wrestle with the recalcitrant boiler. Elias himself felt… different. The world was sharper, crisper. His own body, usually a familiar, almost unremarkable vessel, now hummed with a quiet energy. He was stronger, yes. He'd tested it subtly: lifting his heavy oak desk chair with one hand as if it were wicker, feeling the dense solidity of the floorboards under his feet with a new tactile awareness. His Host Power, now 3.0, was a tangible reality.
But Thomas was a unique case: absolute, pre-existing loyalty. The System had been clear: 10% gain for standard empowerment. This, Elias knew, needed testing. His burgeoning network couldn't rely solely on finding individuals with Thomas's unwavering devotion. Such men were unicorns. He needed a more… transactional approach for broader expansion.
His gaze fell upon the System interface, still glowing softly beside his desk. [Energy: 90/100]. The Goblin empowerment cost only 5 Energy Points. The description: "Confers enhanced speed, agility, and an unnatural aptitude for acquiring material wealth (theft, resource detection). Slight, grotesque physical transformation possible." Perfect for a low-stakes experiment.
He needed a subject. Someone expendable, if necessary. Someone whose loyalty was non-existent, allowing him to accurately gauge the 10% return. His mind sifted through the colourful tapestry of tenants and local vagrants he encountered daily.
One name surfaced: Mickey "Fingers" O'Halloran. A wiry, weasel-faced sneak thief who occasionally haunted the peripheries of his properties, known for pilfered milk bottles, swiped newspapers, and an uncanny ability to disappear into shadows when confronted. Mickey owed him back rent on a tiny, dilapidated room in the Saint-Henri district – a room Mickey used more as a bolt-hole than a home.
Elias made a decision. He donned his coat, tucked a small roll of bills into his pocket – less than usual, as a precaution – and headed out. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the scent of coal smoke and damp earth. Montreal felt vibrant around him, its citizens hurrying about their business, oblivious to the subtle shift in power that had just occurred in a small apartment in the Old Port. For a moment, Elias felt a thrill, a sense of holding a secret that could crack the world open.
He found Mickey attempting to jimmy the lock on a grocer's delivery entrance off a cobbled alleyway near Bonsecours Market. The tell-tale scratching sound was unmistakable.
"Mr. O'Halloran," Elias said, his voice calm but carrying easily in the narrow space.
Mickey froze, then whirled, a length of bent wire clattering to the ground. His eyes, small and shifty, widened in panic. "Mr. Thorne! I… uh… I was just checkin' this lock for ol' Mr. Henderson. Make sure it's secure, y'see."
Elias arched an eyebrow. "Indeed. Your concern for community safety is admirable, Mickey." He took a step closer. Mickey flinched, clearly expecting an earful about rent or a call for the constabulary. "I have a proposition for you."
Mickey blinked, suspicion warring with a flicker of desperate hope. "Proposition, sir?"
"You're agile, quick. You have… a talent for acquisition," Elias stated, not unkindly. "What if I told you I could make you better at it? Faster, quieter, with an instinct for finding things of value that you can only dream of now."
Mickey licked his lips, his eyes darting around. "What's the catch, Mr. Thorne? Ain't nothin' free in this world, 'specially not from a landlord."
"Perceptive," Elias conceded. "The 'catch' is that I expect a portion of your… enhanced success. Let's say, ten percent of anything significant you acquire. And your discretion. This is between us."
Mickey narrowed his eyes. "You gonna… what? Teach me some new tricks?"
"Something like that." Elias focused his intent. The System confirmed: [Subject: Michael O'Halloran. Loyalty to Host Unit: 5% (Situational, Fear-Based). Viable for Standard Empowerment.]
Perfect.
System, empower Michael O'Halloran with Goblin Unit – Level 1.
[Empowerment Initiated. Channeling… Energy Cost: 5 Units. Remaining Energy: 85/100.]
This time, the drain on Elias was almost negligible. He watched Mickey intently.
There was no golden aura, no dramatic muscular expansion. Instead, Mickey yelped, clutching his stomach as if suddenly afflicted by acute indigestion. His already thin frame seemed to… contract slightly, his posture hunching. His fingers twitched, and for a moment, his nose seemed to sharpen, his eyes gleaming with a sly, almost feral light. The transformation was far more subtle than Thomas's, almost unnervingly so.
"Wha… what was that?" Mickey gasped, straightening up slowly. He looked down at his hands, which now seemed more gnarled, his nails a touch longer and yellower. He twitched his nose, his gaze darting around the alley with a newfound, disturbing keenness. He suddenly spotted a dropped coin near a refuse bin that Elias hadn't even noticed. Mickey darted towards it, his movements quicker, almost unnaturally fluid, snatching it up with a little grunt of satisfaction.
"I feel… twitchy," Mickey declared, his eyes now wide with a greedy understanding. "And my eyes… everything's… sharper. I can almost smell that baker's till from here." He grinned, a wide, unsettling expression that showed slightly longer canines.
As Mickey experienced his transformation, Elias felt it too: a tiny, almost imperceptible surge of energy, far less potent than what he'd received from Thomas, but undeniably present. It was a subtle enhancement to his baseline – a fractional increase in his own agility, a slight sharpening of his perception of his immediate surroundings.
[Standard Feedback Protocol Successful. 10% Power Transfer from Unit Michael O'Halloran (Goblin Lv.1) to Host Unit.]
[Host Power: 3.0 -> 3.05 (Agility Quotient: +0.05%, Perception Quotient: +0.03% - Relative to baseline gains from Goblin profile.) Recalibrating metrics… ]
It was minuscule. Five percent of a Goblin's modest gains in agility and perception. But it was proof. The 10% rule worked. Ten such individuals, and he'd have effectively gained the full power of one Goblin, fifty for five, a hundred for ten. The mathematics of it were seductive. He could build his own power base through sheer numbers, even without absolute loyalty.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Elias said, keeping his voice level.
Mickey's grin didn't falter. "This is… this is somethin' else, Mr. Thorne. Somethin' else indeed." His eyes gleamed. "Ten percent, you said?"
"Ten percent of significant hauls. And absolute discretion," Elias reiterated. "Fail me in either, Mickey, and what was given can just as easily be… adjusted." He let a sliver of coldness enter his tone. The System hadn't detailed a 'revoke' function, but the implied threat was enough for now.
Mickey nodded quickly, the avarice in his eyes tempered by a healthy dose of fear. "Got it, Mr. Thorne. Clear as crystal. Ten percent. No blabbin'." He rubbed his newly nimble fingers together. "I got… places to be. Things to… check on." He practically vibrated with anticipation.
"Go then, Mickey," Elias said. "Show me what you can do."
Without another word, Mickey O'Halloran practically melted into the shadows at the alley's end, his movements far more silent and swift than Elias had ever seen from him.
Elias remained for a moment, the slight thrum of his newly augmented perception cataloging the alley's details with unsettling clarity. He had set a wolf among the sheep, albeit a small, somewhat grotesque wolf.
He had just armed a known thief with unnatural capabilities. The ethical implications were a fleeting shadow, quickly dismissed by the cold pragmatism that had become his shield. This was about power, about survival and dominance in a world that preyed on the weak. Mickey was a tool, a pawn. If he became a problem, he would be dealt with.
Walking back towards his apartment, the initial +0.05% boost from Mickey felt like a single drop in a vast ocean, yet it represented a pivotal understanding. He now had two models of empowerment: the symbiotic, high-yield loyalty bond like with Thomas, and the broader, lower-yield transactional empowerment for assets like Mickey.
He needed both. He needed a core of utterly loyal, powerful figures, his knights. And he needed a wider network of eyes, ears, and grasping hands, his pawns.
The city of Montreal, in the grip of the Great Depression, was ripe with potential candidates for both. Desperation, he knew, was a powerful motivator. And he, Elias Thorne, now possessed the ultimate incentive.