Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 138 – Floor 12: Part 7

Mathew felt a hand grip his shoulder and shake him. He felt exhausted, and his heavy eyelids refused to open. His mind slowly woke up, and his awareness of his surroundings gradually returned.

“Wake up. Hey, Mathew! Come on, buddy, you need to wake up.” A man’s voice spoke, cutting through the fog that pervaded Mathew’s consciousness and empowered him to open his eyes. The world slowly became focused, and Mathew saw an older, handsome man in a black business suit standing before him.

Marshall Larson.

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Mathew asked, stifling a yawn as he lifted his head from his desk and leaned back in his office chair.

His suit had a few new creases from where he had slept in an awkward position. The light reflected off his Rolex watch, a gift from his father, as Mathew raised his hand and ran it over his face and through his hair.

“I came to see how you were doing with the Henderson contract. I was worried that you were taking on too much. Seems like I was right. Did you have a good nap?” His father said, chuckling as he took a seat across from him.

“It was fine, just a little power nap. I was up all night reviewing the contract for anything we may have missed.” Mathew explained, and his father nodded. The document he had been reviewing was still on his desk, a thick file that contained thousands of pages. It was a massive and high-profile assignment for their Firm.

Mathew didn’t want to screw it up.

“Find anything?” Marshall Larson asked, glancing down at the open pages.

“A few small edits, nothing major.” Mathew said before wincing in pain. He had a massive headache as if he had been up all night drinking the night before rather than reading. There was something else, a feeling that he was forgetting something.

It was damned odd, but before he could explore the feeling further, his father interrupted his thoughts.

“You alright?” Marshall asked in concern, and Mathew flashed him a small smile.

“I’m fine, Mother Hen. Just a headache. I can’t imagine how I could have gotten it; it's not like I spent the morning sleeping on a hard wooden desk with a file folder as a pillow.” Mathew joked, and his father laughed.

“You need to take better care of yourself. Look at me, twice your age and fit as a fiddle! You should spend more time at the gym; a little more cardio will do you good.” Marshall advised, and Mathew snorted.

“Yeah, you’re a paragon of healthy living. Except for the drinking and the cigars.” Mathew said, and his father flinched.

“That’s different. I’m trying to be healthy, not become a monk. I’m just worried about you. All the work you’ve been putting in. Your mother says you haven’t been sleeping, and we just want you to be alright with everything that’s happened with Emily.” Marshall responded.

There was a delay in Mathew’s response as he felt the weight of his father’s eyes on him. Mathew let out a deep sigh before answering.

“I’ve been having strange dreams. Weird stuff. I’m not sure I know how to describe it.” Mathew confessed as a confusing stream of images rushed through his head. They were of him in fantastical lands and insane situations, fighting monsters and exploring alien worlds. He couldn’t make sense of them.

“Maybe you should go back to the Doctor and talk to her about everything that’s going on.” Marshall advised, and Mathew shrugged.

“I have an appointment today, actually. In the afternoon.” Mathew replied, glancing down at his watch to check the time. To his shock, the watch was gone and in its place was a silver wristband. The odd piece of jewelry was covered in symbols and glowed.

Blinking his eyes in surprise, the silver bangle disappeared, and the Rolex was back where it belonged. Mathew rubbed his eyes. Maybe his Father was right; maybe he was working too hard, and things were starting to have an effect on him.

“That’s good. Make sure to tell her everything.”

Marshall looked around for a moment before standing and carefully closing Mathew’s office door. They were in the corner office of their law firm, a place that Mathew earned through hard work and, he had to admit, a small bit of nepotism.

“Listen, I want to run an idea by you. But, keep it between just the two of us.” Marshall said quietly, and Mathew had an unsettling feeling creep up his spine. There was something here, something that he was forgetting that seemed to be screaming at him. Something about a test and… a knight?

Mathew frowned, shook his head to rid himself of these errant thoughts, and focused on his father.

“What is it?” Mathew asked when the odd feeling finally subsided.

“We have an offer. Do you remember Ackley Electronics? We had a meeting with them last spring about a possible merger, and they wanted us to negotiate?” Marshall asked, and Mathew had to think a moment before nodding.

“Yeah, I recall that we turned them down after we found some ‘discrepancies’ in their accounts.” Mathew replied, and this time, it was Marshal’s turn to scoff.

“Call it what it is, son. They’re crooks. I’ve never seen books that cooked. There’s ‘creative accounting,’ and there is whatever the hell they were doing. But they’re well connected and rich, and they made us another offer. They want to place us on retainer.” Marshall said.

That odd feeling returned, and Mathew shifted uncomfortably in his desk chair. It felt like there were eyes on his back, watching him.

“You’re not seriously considering working with them, are you? Getting involved with a group like that is just asking for trouble.” Mathew replied, and Marshall raised a hand and made a calming motion.

“Hold on, you haven’t heard the offer. They just want you, it would be separate from the Firm, and the pay is…substantial.” Marshall explained. The feeling of eyes boring into Mathew’s back grew stronger, and Mathew couldn’t help but glance around to see if someone was with them.

But the office was empty, and his father was waiting for an answer. Mathew shook his head.

“I’m not putting my career at risk for them.” Mathew replied, and he thought he could hear a faint voice whispering in his ear.

‘Honour. The Knight lives by honour and for glory.’ The voice hissed on the soft edge of his hearing, slowly fading until Mathew thought it was his mind imagining it.

“That’s fine. I just thought I would run it past you.” Marshal said, holding up both of his hands in defeat and slowly standing.

“I’ll see you later, Mattie. We’re having lunch at noon, my treat.” His father said with a smile as he left Mathew’s office.

He had only just returned to his pile of papers when Mathew heard a knock on his door. It was Cheryl, one of the office administrators. She had a folder tucked under one arm and a small box in her hand.

“Hey, Cheryl! What can I do for you?” Mathew asked, looking up from his desk and smiling at her. Cheryl had been with the firm for decades and was a huge help when he started. He couldn’t imagine getting through his time here without her.

“Hey Mathew, I’m sorry to bother you. Are you busy?” Cherly asked, and Mathew shook his head.

“No, not at all. Come in; what can I help you with?” Mathew replied as he flipped over the document he was reading on his desk and focused his full attention on her as Cheryl stepped further into his office.

“Well, I’m collecting on behalf of my daughter. I don’t know if you are aware, but she’s recently been ill, and I’m afraid the medical expenses have been increasing. I was hoping you could donate?” Cherly asked hopefully, and Mathew immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out the bundle of bills there.

“Of course.” He said, quickly counting the money. As he did so, that strange feeling returned, stronger than before. Mathew could feel the eyes judging him, and the faint voice whispered in his ear once more as he handed over the folded bills.

‘Generosity. A Knight gives succour to those in need.’ It spoke, and Mathew’s headache grew worse. Clutching his head, Mathew squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

“Thank you, Mathew. Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Cheryl asked in concern, only for Mathew to shake his head.

“I’m fine. Just a headache. You’re more than welcome, Cheryl. I hope your daughter gets well soon.” Mathew said politely as the woman left his office. Taking a deep breath, Mathew stood and walked around in the hope that it would relieve his headache.

What was happening? Did he need to go see a doctor?

Mathew walked to the window, hoping the Manhattan skyline view would help, when he suddenly froze in shock. There was something on the horizon, an unfamiliar building he had never seen before in Central Park.

He had lived in New York his entire life and was as familiar with the city as his own hands. He had never seen the Tower, shining silver and glass, that rose above the trees before in his life.

“What is that? Arrggh!” Mathew screamed and collapsed to his knees as his headache worsened. Along with the pain came more images from his dream, unfamiliar faces and landscapes. It felt like an entire lifetime of information was being forcefully pounded into his head like a hammer striking a nail.

‘The Test of Chivalry must continue.’ The voice whispered, and Mathew screamed in agony. Memories flooded his mind, and he suddenly knew who he was. Mathew understood what was happening and where he was.

“The gods damn you, Lady of the Lake! Stay out of my head!” Mathew roared, and his mana surged around him.