I Became A Zompirewolf

Besides being beaten black and blue, Ashton had another job: expanding his faction’s power.

By the time the Ghosts reached the Tower, ONI officials had sorted most job applications into categories. Despite their best efforts to shortlist deserving candidates, the number of applicants after the initial weeding stage was still beyond ten thousand.

From production to strategies and from combat to support, each category had at least a thousand applicants, excitedly waiting for the news of their selection or rejection.

As if that wasn’t enough, the news of Ashton’s successorship sparked another wave of applications coming his way. It was to the point he could no longer procrastinate it.

“After registering the Inhumans as mercenaries, our numbers have increased to 53, sir.” Leon reported, “I understand we need better and stronger forces, but our funds are limited-”

“Don’t worry about money,” Ashton interrupted while wiping off some sweat, “I have more than enough to spare if it’s for the faction. Just make sure to hire talented people. As long as you do that, I have no qualms about the expenditure.”

“As you wish, Captain. Oh, by the way, this is the list of combat and production applicants you requested. You can handle their employment, ONI and I can take care of the others.”

Ashton slumped on the bed as soon as Leon was out the door. While creating a faction, he had no idea it’d be so hectic, or he would have appointed someone else as the Captain and solely focused on training his butts off.

[You made your decision, now you’ve got to face the music.]

‘…what?’

[It’s an idiom, you idiot!]

‘I already have too much going on with me. Please don’t force my remaining brain cells into labour.’

[What kind of labour-]

‘I swear-‘

[Alright, alright, chill!]

“Malekith, lock the doors. Don’t permit entry to anyone except Anna.” Ashton mumbled, and instantly a tiny humanoid holograph appeared standing on his chest.

The holographic AI was called Malekith, named after the dark-elven god of warfare and tactics. Having a conscious AI as a butler was something anyone could afford, and Ashton was one of them.

There was a significant difference between conscious AI and programmed ones, which also showed why the latter kind was much cheaper to acquire than the former.

While the programmed AIs were designed to do a particular job by being coded specifically for a job, The Conscious AIs were, in essence, a person in a digital body.

One could also say conscious AIs were nothing but digitised lifeforms that weren’t programmed but birthed by a person… usually a deceased person. .𝙘𝙤𝙢

Malekith was one such AI who shared the persona of a god and was gifted to Ashton by Lord Testickles on behalf of the Orion Emperor.

The money spent acquiring a Malekith-like AI could effortlessly force a civilisation into bankruptcy. For the Empire to hand it over like a gift was enough for Ashton never to let go of such a strong ally (read: Sugar Daddy).

It wasn’t like the Emperor wasn’t interested in fostering such a relationship with him. First, the gift of the fastest ship in the galaxy and now Malekith, Orion Empire’s intentions were obvious.

The Empire wanted Ashton as an ally and a confidant; it was the only explanation for why they generously commemorated his most minor achievement.

Not that Ashton was complaining, as Malekith was a multi-purpose AI. There was nothing he couldn’t do as long as he was given the appropriate tools to accomplish a task.

While lazing on the bed, Ashton was hit by a sudden idea. Judging by his broad smile, it had to be a good one.

“Say, Malekith, are you up for a test?”

“You might be my master, but I’m still a god.” Malekith calmly replied, “That said, I’m aware how mortals like to test a god’s power to solidify their belief in the supernatural. So yes, I am prepared to show you the might of a god-”

“Take this list,” Without wasting a beat, Ashton shoved the tablet with the list of applicants into Malekith’s hands before slipping into the blankets, “Please rearrange the list based on power levels and innate abilities that might come in handy.”

He continued, “Also, if possible, mark the candidates you think I should employ without fail. Along with a note on why you think so. As for me, to ensure you have a peaceful environment to work in, I’ll take a short power nap!”

Before Malekith could respond, Ashton covered himself in the blanket to avoid taking any responsibility.

“Out of all the mortals, why did I get stuck with him?” Malekith mumbled before scanning the list, “Incompetent, incompetent, oh look! Another useless creature! Pah~ I would rather exile these fools than employ them.”

***

Meanwhile, a figure shrouded in spatial darkness stared at the blank screen in front. The man snapped his fingers, and the repeat telecast of Flintmace’s announcement played.

The man had been watching the same thing every waking moment for a week. Once, Flintmace’s close aide was now stuck in a maximum security prison far away from the galaxy.

The light from the screen revealed the man’s blue skin as he kept twitching in his place. It felt like the mere sight of Flintmace filled him with anger.

Thankfully, the blue-skinned man didn’t have to see him much or even hear about him. Being in prison had its perks. However, the news of Flintmace’s sudden plan was too big not to reach his ears.

Wanting to know more about it, the man spent whatever ‘caps’ he had earned during his time in prison to get a monitor and news subscription, just to see a backstabber’s smiling face.

“Look at the bastard…” The man grumbled, “How dare he smile after what he did to me, to us. You’ll never learn, do you?”

He got up and shut the screen before casually walking to his cell door. As if on command, the doors opened automatically, with a guard standing there to welcome the prisoner.

“Lord Asmodeus, how can I be of service?” The guard bowed before the man.

“Get me a ship,” Asmodeus snarled, “It’s time to reclaim what we, the Precursors, gave away… with the One-Above-All’s blessing.”