I have no idea what i was drinking when i wrote this. Seeing it now, the flow sucks, and scenes get cut off. But it is what it is. I'm super busy now and can't fix it.
~
Harry wants place a hit on every weaker member of the Russel Family Syndicate
A Million Dollars per Low Class. Not the ones that were already trained in magic and fighting. Just the mid and high Low Class, would be too expensive. It would be cheaper if he kills them himself. But there were still fifty weak Low Class fighters. That's Fifty Million Dollars.
It might seem like a lot of money, but Harry can easily get that back. And this was not just about killing them. The Russel Family knows that by now Harry has a few people working for him. But Harry was on the defensive.
But the added pressure caused by a hundred assassins, where you don't know when or how they will strike. Will cause a lot of pressure to the weaker members. Leading to a lot of mistakes and that will slow down his business.
Russel has made a lot of enemies. And these assassins give the perfect excuse for them to move against Russel. Weakening his organization even more. So Harry was investing Fifty Million to give the people in the shadows an opportunity to strike.
If one of those guys sends a single Mid-Class to go cause chaos, it will be worth it. The bigger the confusion and chaos, the better the odds for Harry.
It will be a situation where Russel doesn't know who is attacking, causing him to either stretch his forces thinner, or he will double down on defense. Giving Harry more time to get ready.
~ London Continental.
In the Heart of London, there was a hotel quite similar to its counter part in New York. It was officially registered as a VIP Hotel. Even wealthy people couldn't get in, but the millionaires understood why.
You need connections to walk through the front door. Underworld connections. This is Hotel for assassins, it also serves as a safe zone. All business is prohibited on Continental grounds. The one place where cold blooded killers can feel safe, where they can have a drink and recuperate from any of their injuries.
It was also place where people can scout the competition. Assassins are strange people each killing for money. Yet on edge with each other. Because you never know when a contract might be placed on you. So they keep track, who is on a mission. What are their methods. Creating connections so you will be notified if there is a hit on you.
"Greetings Sir" an old Englishman was at the front desk. He had graying hair and a well trimmed beard. He looked at the man who had just entered the hotel.
"Hello mate. Name's Constantine. John Constantine"
The man behind the desk didn't react. But he recognized the name, a rising star so to say in the American Underworld. This man has killed a lot of people over the past few months. There were rumors that he uses magic, but was forbidden from using it during his kills.
" Will you be staying here tonight"
Constantine gave the man a little smirk. "Yes for the entire week"
The old man nodded and lifted a key from under the table. "Room 305. Do enjoy your stay"
"Will do mate, have a good one" Constantine left the lobby and went towards his room. 'Phase one complete. Now for Phase two.'
~
In a room filled with old school switchboards, there were serval women with plenty of tattoos and strange hairstyles. But all of them wore a white shirt and skirt. Just like in the past when switchboards were used from the late 19th century through the mid-20th century.
There were dozens of documents and folders scattered on their desks. They all had and old computer system as well, with CRT Monitors. All the paperwork was hand done vie typewriters. There was no copying the documents. The Continental went to a great length to ensure nobody could hack them or track them.
The women in the office handle all of the paperwork regarding assassinations. And you can be sure of one thing.
[ As long as there are two people left alive on the planet, someone is going to want someone dead ]
Assassinations have been happening since the beginning of humanity. And that wasn't going to change anytime soon.
There was a blackboard at the back of the room, written in a grid with chalk were names and the amount placed on the target. The Open Contracts. From a hundred thousand to a few million dollars bounty.
One of the woman got a call and she quickly connected it with a cable.
"Operator how may I direct your call?"
"Accounts Payable" a man with a deep voice called.
"One Moment Please" the female operator answered "Continue"
"I'd like to open a few accounts"
"Name on the accounts"
"Fifty names, already sent over" the man answered to the surprise of the woman. That was too many names to talk about over the phone. In cases like this they need to look through the list to see if there are any names that they can't target
"State of contract"
"Open"
"Denomination"
"One million per kill" the man answered with a bit of amusement in his voice.
"Identification"
The woman could feel the man smirk through the phone "Viper"
"Processing, you will be notified if the request passes through" the woman ended the call and quickly wrote a note, that was sent to management via vacuum tubes.
Management also received the list of names in fifteen minutes. The man who was sitting in the main office of the hotel looked speechlessly at the list. All of the people on the list were part of the Russel Family Syndicate.
Attacking a Magician Organization is beyond his authority. He quickly grabbed his phone and called the high table. Informing them about the situation. The reply he got was surprising.
"Proceed with the contract. The High Table has no business with Oliver Russel"
They actually are in business with his rivals. So if Oliver falls it would be a big opportunity. And he was no threat to them. The High Table has their own fighters. A single crime syndicate was worthless when compared to them. If the entire British Magical Community challenged them as a single entity that was an entirely different thing.
An hour later every phone in the Continental started to ring, and about two hundred more all over the city. The assassins were notified now all that was left to do was to wait.
But the High Table weren't without their own problems. What could have Russel done to anger Viper. The man was already a legend in the underground community. His poisons, weapons and potions were expensive yet preformed perfectly. The man was a Merchant of Death. Selling poison and antidote. Selling weapons to take lives and potions to save them.
There have been repeated targets on business. Yet all who have tried had died in extreme pain. The man was using the people who target him as test subjects. As free public advertisement to how effective his poisons were.
After a hundred people had been killed, there have been less and less attacks. Nobody wanted to be the next victim.
~
Two days later.
Twenty of the Russel Family 'soldiers' were found dead. All killed in various methods.
Naturally seeing so many of his people die, Oliver suspected something big was moving behind the scenes. He used all his contacts and even the ones he had in the 'alliance' with those other bastards.
The results he got sent him into a fit of rage. A hit has been placed, on every Soldier under his employment. Someone had sent assassins to target his organization.
He called the Continental to threaten them.
The reply that he got was that the High Table doesn't deem him as a threat. With just four High Class Magicians he can never threaten them.
So Oliver decided to call back all of his people and meet the assassins head on. If they wanted to play it that way, he'd take a pound of flesh from them as well.
~
Back at the Manor Harry was in his lab. He was looking in disbelief at the results he had gotten back from the Basilisk Venom.
"What the actual fuck?" He had to reread the data twice, that's how shocking this was to him.
'Nah I'm calling Cap. There is no way in Hell the original Harry in the books survived this. That is some bullshit plot armor. I'm not sure I can survive this. In the original, Harry was bitten, he dragged his body towards the diary and stabbed it, and only after that did Fawkes shed a tear on his wound. That is a few minutes. This thing will kill a Low Class under ten seconds.'
Harry sat down on his chair and just looked at the ceiling
'Bullshit, actual bullshit. I have a lot more poison and venom resistance than most thanks to experimenting on myself. I constantly smoke my poison mix and inject myself with venom in low doses. Since the ritual says the more immune I am to poison and venom the better the results will be.
And some kid who could barely run with how skinny he was survived for a few minutes. Nah, it must be the world difference. Mine has a much higher level cap. it makes sense, a thousand years ago a lot of dangerous things were still running around. The Basilisk had to be strong enough to defend itself. And this is the venom of a thousand year old one. Much more potent and dangerous.'
Harry looked at the bodies lying on the floor. Once again it proves how valuable it is to keep prisoners. After he got the Basilisk Harry went and kidnapped a few of Russel's grunts. He got some information on their hideouts and schedules for transporting goods. Naturally he told this information to the Continental.
But the real reason was their bodies. Depending on how strong you are the longer you can withstand the venom. But even with the strong Low Class it still only took 20 seconds for them to die.
Reginald an early High Class died just shy of four minutes.
'That is really insane and kind of unfair, but most likely the ones that targeted the basilisk in the past were Mid to High Class beasts. As strong as we get, we are still human, we might gain resistance to magic and physical blows. But at our core, we are still the weakest race.
The Australian Box Jellyfish's venom can kill a normal person in five to ten minutes. And this is completely incomparable. Basilisk venom is a nightmare, this snake wasn't born naturally. It was bred to be a killing machine by some mad man. I don't buy the story that a wizard created this.
The venom is neurotoxic, hemotoxic, cytotoxic and myotoxic. That means itattacks the nervous system, circulatory system, the cells and tissues and whole muscle groups.'
Harry looked toward his workbench where there were a few types of destroyed metal.
'And it's venom has corrosive properties. This thing is a nightmare, a killing machine. No, that's wrong, I don't even think it was created to fight. Someone probably had the same idea as me, a venom/poison factory. This snake was most likely crated only for the purpose of making its venom. The Venom was the key, it was designed first, then a snake was genetically made that could produce it. Fucking genius.'
Harry let out a wild grin, all that effort and research from some madman from the past. And its all his now. Someone designed it, Salazar created it, and now Harry owns it.
'The original probably wasn't even supposed to be this strong. Nobody could have expected it would live up to a thousand years. The venom must have also mutated slightly and become even more deadly. Otherwise these results don't make much sense. I understand the venoms, but the corrosion doesn't belong to a snake type. Not even Hydras have corrosive attacks.
It's all Esmeralda's own evolution. The desire to corrode.. maybe it wished to escape, to melt the stone to be free. And over the centuries after Salazar died it mutated.. It's a definite possibility. '
Harry put down the enchanted crystal vials filled with poison. 'Its going to be fun to experiment with these. I'll start tomorrow, I can't really let up on my other projects as well. To think even with this amount of 'clones/copies' I am still struggling to keep up.
It's going to be a while before a new one can join in. Going for quantity instead of quality isn't a smart move. Each Harry has to be capable of using magic to be more efficient. Its better for the weakest one to reach a certain level first. And I lost one clone to Reginald.
But it will be worth it in the end, as long as I can get to ten clones, I can keep up with the workload and they can train to get stronger. And when I meet an opponent beyond my capabilities. All Harries will put their mana into one, I'm sure it will be quite a surprise.'
This Harry went toward the bedroom. It was his turn to sleep. This shift schedule was really a good idea. Harry never stopped improving. Someone was always researching, studying or training. Every hour, every day.
This was the minimum he had to do to catch up to the monsters of this world. Once he was strong enough to deter people from attacking him, then can he afford to take a break.