Chapter 109: Interference
The next day.
Iron Fortress, Commercial District.
In front of the Succubus Dreams storefront, a Skeleton Cavalryman was doing his absolute best to express his profound dissatisfaction. He let out a continuous, rattling string of "Gahs."
Scarlett wore a bright, rehearsed smile, trying to de-escalate the situation. "Honored guest! Might I ask what specifically was unsatisfactory about our premium service last night?"
The Cavalryman stopped his clicking. He reached into the leather pouch at his waist and withdrew a small chalkboard and a piece of chalk. He began scrawling across the surface with mechanical speed. When finished, he thrust the board under Scarlett's nose.
[MY REQUEST WAS TO BE A CENTURION OF THE FEARLESS VANGUARD, LEADING A CHARGE OF ONE HUNDRED KNIGHTS.]
"Yes! Exactly! That was the request we received! And we executed it to your exact specifications!" Scarlett replied with a sharp, professional nod.
The Skeleton Cavalryman stared at her in a long, hollow silence. He looked down, erased the board with his sleeve, and wrote a new line. He slammed the board onto the counter with a loud thwack.
[THEN WHY DID I DREAM I WAS LEADING A CHARGE OF ONE HUNDRED CHICKENS WEARING MINIATURE PLATE ARMOR?]
[I HAVE ATTENDED THE ACADEMY! I KNOW WHAT FRAUD LOOKS LIKE!]
Scarlett's smile turned to stone. She whipped her head around, looking at Kula, who was currently crouched in the corner counting copper coins.
"Kula!"
Kula jumped, spilling a handful of coppers across the floor. "It—It wasn't me! Mona was the weaver on duty for that client!"
A muffled, sleepy voice drifted from beneath the counter. "...Roasted chicken... don't run..."
Scarlett delivered a sharp kick to the underside of the counter. "Mona! Get up!"
Mona crawled out from beneath the wood, let out a massive yawn, and rubbed her eyes. "Chairwoman... what is it? I was just dreaming about a giant drumstick..."
"What did you put in this guest's dream last night?" Scarlett pointed a trembling finger at the skeletal soldier.
"A Centurion," Mona replied matter-of-factly. "And a hundred subordinates."
"Then what's with the chickens?!"
"Oh, that." Mona squinted as she recalled the details. "Yesterday, I saw a skeleton calling himself 'Papa' to a baby chick. He looked so happy. I figured adding some cute poultry would enhance the 'User Experience,' so I flavored the dream with them."
The Skeleton Cavalryman tilted his skull to the side. Scarlett felt her blood pressure reaching critical levels.
"Do you have any idea what this does to our professional reputation?!"
"What's the big deal?" Mona yawned again. "It was still a hundred subordinates. Chickens are fast, and their morale during the charge was actually quite impressive."
"THAT ISN'T THE POINT!"
Chloe, who had been silent until now, leaned in and offered a soft imitation: "Cheep-cheep-cheep!"
Eris immediately turned her face to the wall, her shoulders shaking in a suppressed fit of laughter.
The Skeleton Cavalryman stared at the group of chaotic succubi for a long time. Scarlett hurriedly turned back, squeezing out another smile.
"A technical glitch! Purely a minor unforeseen error during a standard adjustment! To compensate you, we shall refund fifty percent of your fee!"
The Skeleton Knight gave a slow shake of his skull. Scarlett's heart sank. Great. Our first one-star review.
Then, the Knight reached into his armor and pulled out several silver coins, placing them on the table. Scarlett blinked. "Huh?"
The Knight erased his board and wrote a final instruction:
[THIS TIME, I WISH TO LEAD A SIEGE COMPRISED OF ONE HUNDRED FIRE-BREATHING SHEEP.]
Scarlett stared at the words, seriously wondering if she was experiencing a fatigue-induced hallucination. Meanwhile, Kula had already snatched the silver coins with predatory speed.
"No problem, Boss! Mission guaranteed!"
The Skeleton Cavalryman gave a satisfied nod and marched away. Scarlett stood with her hands on her hips, addressing her partners with unearned pride.
"Do you see? That is the power of our brand! We always deliver the unexpected!"
Mona nodded. "Can I put a hundred swimming pigs in the next one?"
"SHUT UP, MONA!"
On the other side of town, Kaito was walking toward the Central Plaza. He spotted the drama at the succubus shop from a distance and wisely decided to take the long way around. Greed's reports had mentioned those five, claiming they had "mercantile potential." Kaito was starting to think Greed's definition of "potential" was flawed.
His destination was the most crowded stall in the plaza: [The Call of Evernight].
The queue for the stall snaked around the plaza twice, stretching out of sight. Both humans and undead were gripped by the fever of the event. A few opportunistic merchants had tried to copy the "Gacha" model, but they lacked the cultural context of the Empire. Their carvings looked more like eldritch totems than beloved leaders. More importantly, they weren't "Official Licensed Partners," so the undead refused to acknowledge them. Their stalls were empty save for a few human children playing with the discarded wood.
The undead, however, were standing in line with their necks craned, staring intensely at the eight wooden statues on Hans's counter. Kaito's likeness sat in the center, flanked by the Seven Generals. Whoever Hans had hired for the job was a master; the detail was exquisite.
Kaito joined the very end of the line, keeping his cloak pulled low. He listened to the two Skeleton Knights ahead of him.
"I'm getting the Master's statue today. If I miss, I'll settle for General Wrath."
"Forget it," the other Knight replied flatly. "I've been in this line for three days. I haven't seen a single person pull the Sovereign. I suspect the box is empty."
Kaito looked at the gargantuan lottery box and nodded in silent, bitter agreement.
"Then why are you still in line?" the first Knight asked.
The Soul Fire in the second Knight's sockets flared with religious intensity. "Loyalty... requires a trial."
The line moved with agonizing slowness. Each undead would step up with an expression of frantic hope, pay their coin, and yank the lever. They would then retrieve a blank wooden tag and wander away, looking utterly soul-crushed. Occasionally, someone would draw a sigil for one of the Generals, sparking a wave of envious murmurs through the crowd, which only served to harden the resolve of those still waiting.
Finally, it was Kaito's turn. He disguised his voice, keeping his hood low.
"One pull."
He slammed his final ten copper coins onto the table. He took a deep breath, placing his bony hand on the lever.
This is it. The RNG has to flip now! I am the Sovereign! The chosen one! How can a mere box defeat a King?!
He pulled.
Clack.
Kaito looked down. A small, blank wooden tag—completely devoid of any sigil—sat mockingly in the tray.
Kaito's frame stiffened. The surrounding skeletons seemed to cast looks of pity his way. He felt his Soul Fire grow uncomfortably hot. He silently retrieved the "Thanks for Playing" tag, dropped it in the bin, and slunk away to the side of the road.
He patted his pockets. Empty. The Great King of Evernight was officially bankrupt.
Just then, he saw Hans strolling out of a nearby shop, humming a tune and carrying two heavy, clinking bags of gold. To Kaito, Hans's smile was an act of treason.
That's my money!
He thought about having Hans seized and interrogated. He thought about auditing his soul. But then he looked back at the "Box of Conviction" and the pious skeletons waiting their turn.
No. This is a battle of dignity. I will pull my own statue through the legitimate mechanics of the game!
Kaito squeezed his fists. He looked at the darkening sky.
That's enough for today. Tomorrow... after I get my "administrative allowance" from Greed... we settle this!
Kaito vanished into the shadows of the alley, his back looking lonely yet resolute. A true Hero never flees from the grind.
Meanwhile, Avarice's Laboratory.
Skele-Avarice was staring at a row of petri dishes containing suspended Soul Fire, his brow furrowed.
Topic: Feasibility analysis of retaining key memories and emotional links post-conversion.
The project was stalled. The peeling and reweaving of souls and memories was ten thousand times more complex than he had anticipated. His medical production was automated now, leaving him with an abundance of time to pursue his true interests, which only made the frustration of the current "wall" more grating.
Just then, he received a pulse through the Soul Link. It was Lust.
"Avarice!"
"General. What are your instructions?"
"The Master has issued a decree. A fascinating assignment regarding 'Spacetime Interference.' I find myself in need of your specific expertise."
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