Perspective: Eve
Location: The Great Archive of Sylvaris — Philosophy Annex
Time: 1:30 PM — February 1, 2018
It had been 3 days since the cliffside.
The 1st 2 nights were the hardest. I could barely sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the sound of that wooden tiffin box splintering across the rocks echoed in my head, and hot, stinging tears would soak straight into my pillow before I could stop them. You don't just heal from having your heart broken in 10 minutes.
Both nights, I caught myself clutching the little knit Kaiser plushy against my chest, squeezing it so tight the yarn stitches strained, just so my ribs would stop aching enough for me to fall asleep.
I didn't even understand why I needed to hug it.
He was so cruel to me... so why was I still holding onto something that looks like him?
And then yesterday happened.
Ren took our party out on a routine C-rank border sweep near the southern ridge. Out of nowhere, Kaiser showed up to participate.
He didn't speak to me.
Not once.
He didn't say my name. He didn't ask how I was doing. He didn't even look in my direction. When the forest wolves ambushed our area, he killed them with 3 clean slashes of his dagger, wiped the blade on a cloth, and walked ahead in absolute silence.
At 1 point during our lunch break, Tanya noticed him leaning against a pine trunk and teased him from across the clearing: My, my, aren't you being the dutiful babysitter today, Mr. Everhart?
Kaiser didn't even bother to reply.
He acted like I was completely invisible.
It hurt...
My eyes were still a tiny bit puffy this morning, but at least I had finally managed 7 hours of rest last night. And instead of sitting in my lodge weeping into my teacup, I woke up at 8:00 AM, washed my face with ice-cold basin water, tied my 2 white hair ribbons extra neat, and marched straight into the Great Archive of Sylvaris.
I wasn't going to spend another day crying.
I brought 5 fruit lollipops wrapped in wax paper in my coat pocket. My brain needed sugar to function, but eating massive strawberry shortcakes made me feel sluggish and guilty. Hard candy was safe. It gave me energy without turning my cheeks rounder.
I glanced down at my left hand resting flat against the polished oak table.
On my ring finger, the Sea of the Heart remained dark.
The vibrant, swirling cobalt mana that used to glow like deep ocean water had gone completely dormant. Only a faint, muted trace of pastel-pink mana drifted lazily around the inner rim, sluggish and tired.
It went dark the second he severed our connection.
Why? Was it really just reacting to his mana... or something else?
I turned my attention back to the heavy stack of leather-bound books piled in front of me.
There were 5 thick volumes resting on the reading table. For the past 2 days, whenever Ren's club didn't have active quests, I had buried myself in the archive's highest annex, reading every philosophical framework the continent had recorded over the last 400 years.
I needed to understand him.
If Kaiser Everhart was a calculation, then every calculation operated on an underlying logic.
The 1st book I read on Tuesday was On the Void of Values—a study on Nihilism. It argued that life, morality, and cosmic truth have zero inherent meaning. Everything is dust; therefore, all rules are illusions. But that didn't fit Kai at all. If he truly believed nothing mattered, he wouldn't care about Elfie. He wouldn't carry 3 years of crushing grief in his eyes.
The 2nd volume was The Smiling Rebel—a text on Absurdism. It claimed that humanity endlessly seeks meaning in a universe that offers none, but rather than despairing, a person should embrace the absurdity and find defiant joy in the struggle. That didn't fit him either. Kai didn't smile at the void; he plotted against everything.
The 3rd was The Unshaken Pillar—a treatise on Stoicism. It preached that virtue, logic, and absolute emotional detachment lead to peace, accepting fate regardless of external tragedy. That sounded closer. Kai was disciplined. He endured pain without flinching. But stoics accepted fate; Kai actively waged war against it.
The 4th was The Free Covenant—a manifesto on Anarchism, the rejection of all imposed hierarchies and state authority in favor of voluntary cooperation and self-governed balance. Kai certainly hated corrupt nobility, but he wasn't trying to tear down society; he was using it.
And then there was Altruism.
The principle of acting purely for the welfare of others, often at the direct expense of personal comfort, safety, or life.
That's... that's how I think.
I want people around me to smile. Even if it makes me tired, even if I get flustered, I want to help.
Beside it sat a charcoal-grey tome on Pragmatism—the belief that truth, morality, and strategy should be judged strictly by their practical utility and measurable results. Kai definitely used pragmatism. Every move he made was efficient.
But pragmatism alone doesn't explain why he carried me bridal-style that night.
My gaze shifted to the 5th book—the thickest 1 on the table, bound in dark crimson leather with a gilded demon crest embossed on the spine:
The Sovereign's Shadow: A Treatise on Isaac Machiavelli and the Art of Cold Rule.
It was written 120 years ago by an elven scholar who documented the rise of Isaac Machiavelli—a demon politician who took the Demon Continent by storm. Isaac had revolutionized the demon economy and built an empire of influence by systematically manipulating rival races, exploiting their gullibility, and leveraging trade agreements to secure absolute power for his people.
The book laid out the core doctrine of Machiavellianism: a political mindset favoring cunning, deceit, and ruthless pragmatism to gain and maintain dominance.
The ends justify the means.
My fingers traced the faded parchment as I read the behavioral profile:
Machiavellians identify and exploit the naive and gullible. They possess high social intelligence, appearing gracious, loyal, humane, sincere, and humble in public. They cultivate intimate personal cooperation with their targets, using charm, feigned affection, and subtle favors to lower defenses. Once their objective is achieved, they discard the instrument without empathy, operating purely on extrinsic, reward-driven utility.
My breath hitched in my throat.
Flattery... feigned affection... subtle favors...
The ends justify the means.
He called me his princess. He wrapped his arms around me. He cooked for me. He walked beside me.
And then, on the cliff, he said: Every single thing you saw and felt was fake. A game of pretend.
Was he... was he just a Machiavellian?
Did he really look at my face, see an easy target, and play the part of a gentle protector just to inspect my ring?
My throat tightened, a wave of familiar nausea rolling through my stomach.
No.
I shook my head firmly, pulling the lollipop from my mouth and staring down at the crimson cover.
It doesn't add up.
If Kaiser was purely Machiavellian, why did he sweep the dirt off my lodge floorboards at sunrise when I was fast asleep? There was no audience. There was no leverage to gain from sweeping dust.
Why did he pull me into his chest and hug me so tightly when he woke up from that 7-day fever, trembling as if terrified I was going to vanish? A Machiavellian doesn't tremble from relief.
And why did he face 4 deadly rankers in the Lower District with nothing but a kitchen knife in his hand? If he only cared about inspecting a ring, he could have slipped away into the shadows and stole it off my corpse.
He isn't just 1 philosophy.
He's an impossible contradiction. A mix of stoic discipline, ruthless pragmatism, and something buried so deep beneath his scars that even he refuses to look at it.
A sudden, sharp scuffle broke the sacred silence of the library.
"I told you 4 times already, Ami! I am NOT reading this giant newspaper!"
The voice was a hushed, frantic hiss coming from the alcove 2 rows over.
"Keep your volume down, Bibi," a softer, measured voice whispered back, perfectly deadpan. "The head librarian has a broom to kick us out."
My ears perked up.
I peeked through the gap between the philosophy shelves.
Sitting at a long mahogany study desk were 2 young cat beastkin girls. The older 1 had messy, layered jet-black hair, a bright emerald-green dress, and 2 velvety black cat ears that were pinned flat against her skull in utter misery. Her long black tail was lashing back and forth against the wooden floorboards like an irritated whip.
Beside her sat a smaller, delicate girl with straight black bangs, luminous silver eyes, and a pale blue dress. She was staring blankly at a leather-bound ledger twice the thickness of her head.
"I don't care about probabilities!" the girl with the emerald dress groaned, burying her face into her folded arms on the desk. "I'd rather climb 10 clock towers in a rainstorm than read another page of Regional Trade Geography and Soil Minerals! Why do I care where the clay comes from?! Clay is for pots! I don't careeee!"
"Because Master instructed you to understand supply lines," the silver-eyed girl replied, adjusting her quill with rhythmic, delicate precision. "And I have to finish 300 pages of Municipal Commercial Accounting and Tariff Arbitrage. My mind is about to collapse... I need cold water."
"Master Kaiser is a monster!" the older girl whined into her sleeves, kicking her boots against the chair rungs. "A complete tyrant! A slave driver! He said if we don't finish these 2 books before sunset, we don't get dinner tonight! And he won't even notice if we sneak out for 10 minutes to get honey ice cream! He's off doing grown-up scheming anyway!"
My heart slammed against my ribs like a thunderclap.
Master Kaiser?!
My hand froze against the shelf, the parchment of my book fluttering shut.
Kaiser... Everhart?
Did she just say Master Kaiser?!
I stared through the wooden slats at their twitching cat ears.
Wait... beastkin girls calling him 'Master'?!
A sudden, horrifying gasp caught in my throat. In Sylvaris, beastkin refugees from the southern borders were frequently bought and traded by underworld cartels in the Lower District as forced labor or household servants.
Don't tell me... did Kaiser buy slaves?!
My eyes widened in pure panic.
No, no, no! Stop it, Eve! Stop making wild assumptions!
Assuming things without knowing the truth is exactly why you spent 3 days crying in your bed! Look at them! They're wearing tailored silk dresses and clean woolen cloaks! Slaves don't wear expensive blue dresses and complain about ice cream!
This is my chance.
They know him. They actually live with him.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. My heart was pounding at 140 beats a minute, but I forced my trembling fingers to steady themselves.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out 2 wrapped lollipops—1 lemon-lime and 1 sweet grape—and slipped out from behind the bookshelf.
I walked around the mahogany divider with quiet, soft steps.
When I reached their table, I didn't loom over them. I dropped gently onto my knees beside their desk so I was eye-level with their books, resting my forearms against the polished wood with a warm, timid smile.
"Um... excuse me?" I whispered softly.
Both pairs of cat ears snapped straight up.
The older girl in green jumped in her chair, her dark eyes flashing with instant street vigilance, her right hand darting toward her hip utility belt before she saw my pastel-pink dress and ribbons. The younger girl simply blinked her large silver eyes, staring at me like I was an unexpected math variable.
I extended my palms, revealing the 2 colorful wrapped lollipops resting on my fingers.
"You 2 looked like you were suffering so much over those big books," I whispered with a gentle chuckle, tilting my head. "I brought these earlier... maybe some sugar will help your brains cool down?"
The older girl's tail froze mid-lash.
Her nose twitched twice, catching the sweet aroma of fruit sugar, and her velvety black ears gave a happy, involuntary flutter.
"Free sweets...?" she muttered, her suspicious glare melting into sheer delight.
"Ohh! I love sweets!" the younger girl noted in a hushed, polite murmur, her silver eyes lighting up.
"Take them!" I giggled softly, sliding the lollipops into their hands. "I brought too many anyway, and my teeth will fall out if I eat all of them."
The older girl ripped the wax wrapper off the lemon lollipop with her sharp canines, popping it straight into her mouth with a contented hum. Her tail began thumping happily against the chair leg.
"You're an absolute lifesaver, pink-ribbon girl!" she chirped around the candy stick, her voice full of theatrical relief. "If I had to stare at another map of 'special dirt', I was going to bite the table!"
"Well... you can call me whatever you like... What are your names?"
"I'm Bibi!" the older girl declared proudly, puffing out her chest. "Chief Scout, Field Intelligence Officer, and undisputed older sister! And this little bookworm here is Ami. She does numbers."
"I only like math," Ami corrected calmly, unwrapping the grape lollipop with meticulous care and placing it delicately against her tongue. "Thank you for the candy, Miss."
"You're very welcome, Ami," I said, smiling warmly. "Those are really complicated books for girls your age. Are you studying for guild examinations?"
Bibi let out a dramatic, suffering groan, slumping back over the desk.
"I wish! That would at least have a point! Our Master dumped these on us this morning and told us we have to understand municipal commerce before next week! He is an absolute tyrant!"
"Bibi," Ami chided softly, her black cat ears twitching. "Do not slander Master in public. He bought you those clothes."
"He bought the clothes so I could run errands faster!" Bibi protested, waving her candy stick like a tiny baton. "He's mean! Why make me read geography?! I'm an intelligence scout! I learn things by talking to sketchy tavern owners and climbing balconies, not reading about rock densities!"
My chest gave a small, nervous squeeze. I kept my voice completely casual, resting my chin on my hands.
"Your master sounds... very demanding. What kind of person is he?"
"He's a cheapskate who drinks free tap water," Bibi grumbled, though her tail curled with unmistakable affection. "He acts all cold and mysterious like he's carrying the secrets of the universe, but really he's just a workaholic who forgets to sleep."
"He rescued us," Ami added quietly, her silver eyes softening as she looked at her ledger. "From the Lower District. When bad people held us in a dark cellar, Master broke the doors and brought us home. He gave us clean clothes, warm food, and a roof. We work for him now."
My breath caught.
He broke the doors and brought them home...
Just like he carried me out of the alley.
I hesitated for half a second before asking the question that had been burning inside my ribs:
"Are you... his slaves?"
Both girls paused.
Then Bibi shook her head so violently her black bangs flew across her eyes.
"NOOOOO! Master would never call us slaves! He hates that garbage more than anyone!"
She leaned forward, dropping her voice into an exaggerated, mock-tragic whisper.
"Though honestly, sometimes I feel like we went from slaves to underpaid maids real quick! He calls us 'business employees,' but he treats us like personal servants! Just yesterday, he sat on the couch reading documents and ordered me to fetch him a glass of water—when the water pitcher was literally 4 inches away from his right elbow! 4 inches, Ma'am! What kind of ruthless cruelty is that?!"
Ami nodded in solemn agreement, her cat ears drooping in mock despair.
"It is tyranny. And when we play Snakes and Ladders in the evening, he always counts the board squares in reverse to land on the ladders, and then assigns me 5 pushups when I catch him cheating!"
A tiny, breathless laugh escaped my lips.
Yup.
That's him.
That's completely, undeniably Kaiser Everhart.
My heart twinged with an ache so sharp and sweet it almost brought tears back to my eyes.
He wasn't pretending when he took care of them.
He really is kind.
So why... why did he push me away so violently?!
I smoothed down my skirts, masking the wobble in my chest with another gentle question.
"Why does he need you to study so much economics and commerce? Is he opening a shop?"
Bibi snorted around her lollipop.
"A shop? Ha! Master doesn't do 'a shop.' He has this insane, impossible goal. He's trying to amass a giant mountain of money."
"A mountain?" I tilted my head. "How much gold?"
Ami set her quill down, her expression turning entirely serious.
"1,000 gold coins."
The number hung in the quiet library air.
My jaw practically hit the wooden table.
"1... 1,000 gold?!" I squeaked, clapping both hands over my mouth before the librarian could glare at us. "1,000 gold coins?! That's... that's a fortune! That's enough to buy an entire merchant fleet or 3 noble estates in the Upper District!"
When I was richer, I had 20 silver coins for my name, and it made me feel like the richest princess in the province. 1,000 gold wasn't just wealthy—it was an unfathomable, staggering mountain of wealth!
"And do you want to know the craziest part?" Bibi hissed, waving her hands in the air. "He wants to earn all of it in just 3 months! 3 months, Miss! Can you believe that?! It's completely insane! Impossible!"
"I told him the impossibility but he just laughs it off," Ami confirmed with a dry nod. "But... Master did draft a plan. He is busy with meetings today."
She paused, taking another slow lick of her grape lollipop.
"He will do it. Master never fails."
1,000 gold... in 3 months...
My mind spun in dizzying circles.
Why would he need that much money?!
Kaiser doesn't care about luxury. He wears the same black coat every day. He eats cheap food and drinks plain water. He doesn't buy carriages or expensive things. If he wanted to live comfortably for the rest of his life, 100 gold would be more than enough to retire forever!
Why 1,000? And why in 3 months?
A loud, rumbling gurgle echoed from beneath the mahogany table.
Bibi flushed bright red, clapping both hands over her stomach as her ears twitched in acute embarrassment.
"Okay! That was definitely my stomach!" she announced hurriedly, hopping down from her chair and grabbing her green travel cloak. "Brain work burns too many calories! Ami, pack the notebooks! We're sneaking out to the market square for ice cream right now before the sun drops!"
Ami smoothly closed her massive ledger, securing the brass clasp with a satisfying click, and slid her quill into her utility pouch.
"Ice cream sounds amazinggg," Ami agreed, rising from her seat and giving me a polite, 90-degree bow. "Thank you for the sweets, Miss."
"Wait!" Bibi paused, slinging her leather bag over her shoulder and looking back at me with sharp, inquisitive dark eyes. "What was your full name again, pink-ribbon girl? I didn't catch it."
My breath caught.
A cold panic seized my throat.
If I say 'Eve'...
The second they go home and tell Kaiser they met a pink-haired girl named Eve who gave them lollipops in the library...
He'll know.
He'll know I was asking about him. He'll think I was spying on him, or clinging to him, or refusing to let him go.
Now is not the time to reveal it...
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my voice into an easy, confident cadence.
"My name is Aisha," I lied smoothly with a gentle smile. "I'm just a freelance herb gatherer. Good luck with your ice cream, you 2."
Bibi grinned brightly, giving me a playful 2-finger salute.
"Thanks, Aisha! If you ever need dirt on anyone in the Entertainment District, ask for Bibi the Shadow! See ya!"
The 2 beastkin sisters scampered down the library aisle, their soft boots making barely a whisper against the runner rugs before the heavy wooden doors clicked shut behind them.
Silence reclaimed the Philosophy Annex.
I sat back on the wooden chair, staring at the empty space where they had been.
The taste of strawberry sugar lingered on my tongue.
I looked down at the 5 heavy books on my table.
Isaac Machiavelli.
Stoicism.
Pragmatism.
Altruism.
1,000 gold in 3 months.
A quiet, profound realization washed over my chest, chasing away the cold fog that had clouded my thoughts since that night on the bluff.
Kaiser wasn't a monster. And he wasn't a simple Machiavellian villain who took pleasure in breaking people's hearts.
He was trying to do something impossible. Something so massive, so dangerous, and so demanding that he couldn't afford to be normal.
To conquer a city's economy in 90 days, you couldn't stick to 1 textbook philosophy. You had to be a master of all of them. You had to use Machiavellian leverage to manipulate greedy merchants, Stoic iron will to endure the sleepless nights, and ruthless Pragmatism to execute every contract.
And he's doing it all completely alone.
He pushed me away for another reason yet kept those 2.
He assumed that if he broke my heart and called me a burden, I would run away and live a safe, ordinary life.
I looked down at my left hand.
I curled my fingers inward, feeling the cold, smooth band of the Sea of the Heart pressing firmly against my skin.
You really are a fool, Kaiser Everhart.
You think you can play the villain, shoulder the weight of an entire war by yourself, and make me hate you?
I turned toward the tall arched windows of the annex. Outside, white snow-doves fluttered through the pale winter sky above the slate roofs of Sylvaris, flying toward the bustling spires of the Upper District Trade Hall.
I'm not going to run away.
And I'm not going to be your naive, helpless princess anymore.
I'm going to understand your world, Kai.
I'm going to learn every single move you make.
---
Perspective: Celia
Location: Lower Commercial District — Syndicate Headquarters
Time: 2:15 PM — February 1, 2018
The sharp click of my red heels echoed across the dark mahogany floorboards, crisp and rhythmic like the cocking of a loaded crossbow.
I stopped right in front of the gilded standing mirror beside my desk, uncapped the silver tube, and drew the crimson lipstick across my lips in 1 smooth, practiced stroke.
I pressed my lips together and smiled.
I look ridiculous.
No. Scratch that. I look completely breathtaking.
For an entire year, I hid under a stupid black dye, wore plain cloaks, and tiptoed around like a ghost just so nobody would look at me. I even forced myself to drink that disgusting, bitter black tea without sugar just because Kaiser drank it.
Never again.
From now on, I drink what I like, I wear what I want, and if someone doesn't like my red heels, they can stare at the soles while I step on their throat.
The black military coat Lucifer had tailored for me hugged my shoulders with rigid precision, trimmed with braided gold thread and sharp double-breasted brass buttons. Deep crimson ruffles cascaded down from my shoulders and spilled past my cuffs, framing my hands in midnight leather gloves. My long, snow-white hair tumbled past my waist without a single hair-dye spell or wig to hide it anymore, stark and blinding under the crystal chandelier.
And right there, resting firmly on the middle finger of my left hand, was the cold iron band of the Ring of Empty Chaos.
If you're going to declare an economic war against the corrupt guild system of Sylvaris, you don't do it wearing rags.
You do it looking like an empress.
I glanced toward the front reception hall.
Through the open double doors, 2 very distinct, very grumpy figures were glaring at each other across the polished lobby counter.
Summoning shadow familiars into the physical realm usually resulted in terrifying, jagged masses of black mist and spikes that would make the city guard call for a holy crusade. So, using a delicate weave of illusion magic and demonic flesh-shaping, I had crafted them 2 normal-looking demon disguise bodies so they could blend in as ordinary citizens of the Nether Realm.
Crownless had ended up as a tall, impeccably groomed demon secretary with dark slicked-back hair, 2 small polished obsidian horns curving elegantly along his temples, and a tailored charcoal waistcoat over a silk tie. He stood holding a thick enchanted ledger in 1 arm, looking like a smug, high-society corporate executive.
Ronan, on the other hand, was an absolute brick wall of a clerk. Broad-shouldered, dark-skinned, and sporting blunt volcanic horns, he sat behind the heavy mahogany reception desk with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, looking like a retired executioner forced to sort library cards.
Neither of them was handling their new career paths with grace.
"My Queen, I was supposed to be the top 1 demon killer..." Crownless held up his enchanted quill, his crimson eyes welling with theatrical, operatic despair. "Now I'm a glorified accountant. And yet, look at me. I am utterly slaying in this waistcoat 💅.."
Ronan let out a heavy, volcanic rumble of a sigh that made the intake forms flutter against the desk.
"I too was once the king of flames," Ronan muttered in a monotone baritone that could grind granite. "And for what? To be a CLERK?!"
I leaned against the doorway, crossing my arms over my chest with a slow smirk.
"You 2 look adorable in those outfits and new forms."
Crownless turned toward Ronan, clicking his tongue in flamboyant disgust.
"Nah, you're suited to be a gutter cleaner. Go sweep the drains, lil bro."
Ronan slowly set down his iron stamp. His eyes burned with molten gold.
"Listen here, you disrespectful bastard..." Ronan leaned forward, his knuckles creaking against the wood. "What did you just say to me? Do you know who I am?!"
Crownless threw both hands into the air, gasping theatrically toward the ceiling.
"OMG GUYS, HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO HE IS!" Crownless pointed a dramatic finger at Ronan's face. "Call the therapist—I mean, the mentalist!"
I cannot believe these 2 are my most trusted.
Here they are having a petty slap-fight over desk duties.
Crownless literally acts like a dramatic teenager...
"Behave, both of you," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Lucifer will be back with the officers in 2 minutes, so try to act professional."
Crownless smoothed down the lapels of his waistcoat with an offended sniff.
"Understood, my Queen. Professionalism is my middle name."
"I will incinerate him later," Ronan grumbled, picking up his quill again.
I shook my head, returning to my office with a quiet sigh.
My cute little demons.
At least they keep the room lively.
I drew a gloved finger lightly along the lower curve of my red lips, checking the line in the glass, before walking over to the massive executive desk. I pulled out the high-backed velvet chair, took a seat, and interlaced my fingers on the dark wood.
"Bring them in."
The heavy oak doors parted inward.
Lucifer strode into the room, towering at 195 cm with his signature, effortless swagger. His thick, snow-white hair was swept back from his pale aristocratic face, his tailored black sovereign coat swaying around his boots. That infuriating, confident smirk was already painted across his lips.
Behind him marched 15 demon officers from his realm, their armor gleaming in disciplined formation, their footsteps landing in unison.
They halted in 2 rows before my desk.
From the front, 2 lead officers stepped forward with sharp military precision.
The 1st was a tall, lean male demon with dark hair, a scarred jawline, and midnight-leather battle gear. The 2nd was a striking female demon with vibrant emerald-green hair, sharp curved horns, and gold chainwork adorning her tailored merchant tunic.
"These are your 15 division leads, Celia," Lucifer said, his deep baritone carrying an amused, purring lilt.
"The 2 standing before you are Varkas and Bella, both high-ranking operatives from the Nether Realm. Bella will direct your recycling and material liquidation side, converting harvested monster parts and dungeon ores into liquid capital. Varkas is your intelligence scout—he will monitor all 5 major guilds across the continent and gather quest intelligence from the Celestial Kingdom on demand."
I held Lucifer's gaze for 1 second, offering him a calm, polite nod.
"Thank you, Lucifer."
Then I shifted my attention to the 15 demons standing before me.
They stood stiff as statues, their chins tilted toward the floor in rigid, fearful obedience. They weren't looking at me; they were waiting for their Demon Lord's execution order.
Look at them.
Trained to kneel. Conditioned to wait for permission before taking a single action.
They look exactly like I used to look whenever I sat in Room 204 waiting for Kaiser to tell me what to think.
I leaned forward, resting my forearms against the desk.
"Step closer. All of you. Pull your heads up and look at me."
The officers hesitated for a split-second, then stepped forward in unison, lifting their gazes with guarded, tense eyes.
I didn't smile. I let my crimson eyes rake across every single demon among them.
"I know you've all been poisoned," I said, my voice cutting cleanly through the quiet room. "Told to respect me, obey me, and do whatever I say just because your Demon Lord commanded it. But I'll tell you this: stop if you have."
Several officers blinked in genuine confusion. Varkas's jaw tightened, while Bella's emerald eyes widened slightly. Behind them, Lucifer leaned his shoulder against the bookshelf, his arms crossed, watching me with a sharp, intrigued glint in his red eyes.
They think this is a royal favor.
They think they're playing soldier for the Demon Lord's temporary plaything.
I am not anybody's plaything.
I rose from the chair.
The velvet rustled softly behind me. I let my gaze sweep over them, cold and deliberate.
"It is impossible to live a life you actually choose to live," I spoke, the words coming from the raw, aching core of everything I had learned over the past 3 days.
"Society forces you to obey, but warns you not to lose yourself. Yet the moment you tell them they are wrong, they brand you a monster. You're told you have to be happy, but you must constantly share your happiness to everyone around you. You need money to survive, but you aren't allowed to beg or demand it. You have to work, you have to contribute, you have to lead—yet the moment you step forward, they tell you not to be cruel, not to squash someone else's fragile ego."
The room had fallen dead silent. Not 1 demon breathed.
"You're supposed to be kind, but talking about your pain makes you look weak. You're supposed to stay pretty for men, handsome for women, but not so attractive that you intimidate the sisterhood or brotherhood this world manufactured. You are told never to be rude, never to show off, never to be selfish, never to fail, never to show fear, and never to give up. It is a maze of endless contradictions. And at the end of the day, not 1 single person gives a fuck about what you actually want."
I took a slow step around the edge of the desk.
"This world only cares about the collective majority. It doesn't care about you as an individual. And that is why I am giving you the freedom to disobey your Demon Lord's orders right here. Speak your mind in my presence. Because I don't want loyalty handed to me by another man's command. I want your loyalty earned by my own hands."
I stopped directly before Varkas and Bella.
"Whatever you do from this day forward—right or wrong—it belongs to you. And it belongs to me as your mistress. You were born into a broken, hypocritical world, and I was just as guilty of trying to follow its rules like an obedient, quiet girl. But that ends today."
I lifted my left hand and pushed my long white hair back from my forehead, letting the locks spill over my black coat.
My crimson eyes flared with raw, commanding heat.
Before me, Varkas's face flushed a deep crimson, his breath catching in his throat. Even Bella's cheeks colored faintly, her gaze locked on my face, visibly stunned by the sheer weight of my presence.
I opened my black-gloved palm toward them, then curled my fingers inward, crushing the empty air into a tight, merciless fist.
"Give me the lives you've been wasting."
My voice dropped to a low, melodic promise.
"Give me your empty days, and let me crush them down until there is nothing left—just so you can be reborn into what you actually wanted to be. Let me show you what it means to live without rules, without ethics, and without their laws. We, the Mafia, will write the laws of Celestine. And you will answer to me. I am your mistress, Celia."
I leaned in, holding their eyes.
"So tell me. Are you going to keep asking what this world can do for you? Or are you ready to see what you can take for yourselves?"
Silence hung in the room for 3 full seconds.
The demon officers stood completely frozen, their eyes blown wide in raw, unfiltered awe. Lucifer wasn't smirking anymore; his crimson eyes were wide, a rare, genuine spark of shock flickering across his features.
Then, a sudden, frantic clapping broke the spell.
Crownless rushed to the doorway, his enchanted ledger tucked under his arm, applauding with hysterical enthusiasm.
"Slay 💅, my Queen! Slay! An absolute masterpiece of Unity! 🎀"
WHAT IS HE SAYING?! SHUT UP!!
Ronan slammed both massive fists onto the front desk with a heavy thunderclap.
A heartbeat later, all 15 demon officers snapped their fists to their chests, erupting into a roaring wave of applause that shook the chandeliers.
I raised a single gloved hand, cutting the noise instantly.
"I didn't give that speech for your applause."
The cheering died down immediately.
I turned my eyes directly onto Bella.
"Bella, I entrust you with the liquidation pipelines. Start operating immediately. We are going to be acquiring a massive haul of beast materials and resources today."
Bella blinked, her green hair swaying.
"Today, Mistress? On the very 1st day?"
"So what if it's the 1st day?" I retorted, not blinking. "Calendars don't dictate results."
Then I turned to Varkas. The tall demon officer swallowed hard, his ears burning as my gaze locked onto his.
"Varkas. Take your reconnaissance unit and infiltrate the Requiem Guild's quest boards. Gather every active contract, high-tier bounty, and desperate client posting they have, and bring them to this desk in 30 minutes."
Varkas dropped to 1 knee, his fist pressed over his heart.
"It will be done in 20, Mistress Celia."
I looked across the entire unit 1 last time.
"If anyone here has complaints, the front doors are wide open. You can walk out right now. Just know that if you leave, you leave your future behind because you were too cowardly to be yourselves."
Not a single demon moved toward the door.
"Dismissed."
With a synchronized salute, the 15 officers turned on their heels and filed out of the office in rapid, disciplined strides.
I looked back at Crownless and Ronan hovering near the threshold.
"Crownless, Ronan. Back to your stations. Keep a strict watch on the perimeter."
"On it, my Queen," Crownless bowed with a flourish.
"Nobody enters without clearance," Ronan grunted, turning back to his counter.
As the outer lobby doors shut, a quiet chuckle echoed through the room.
Lucifer pushed himself off the bookshelf, clapping his hands together in slow, rhythmic beats as he strolled toward my desk.
"That was quite the speech," he purred, stopping just inches from my chair. He leaned down, placing both palms flat on the dark wood, towering over me with that devastating, aristocratic smile. "You almost impressed me far too much."
I settled back into my velvet chair, looking up at him without blinking.
"It wasn't a scripted speech. I just told them what they needed to hear."
"You continue to be wonderfully unpredictable." His crimson eyes stayed fixed on my face, traveling from my forehead down to my lips, unhurried and brazen.
I arched 1 brow.
"Are you checking me out?"
"Like an open book, yes." He didn't even flinch.
"Stop glaring at me."
"I'm not glaring, my love." Lucifer leaned down even closer, his face stopping a mere 10 centimeters from mine. His warm breath brushed against my cheek, carrying the faint scent of cedarwood and dark embers.
"In fact... I dare you to kiss me."
I tilted my head back slightly.
"And why on earth would I do that?"
"Because sooner or later, you will." His smile curled with effortless, infuriating certainty. "I have zero doubt about that. Tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10, how mad would you be if I kissed you right now?"
"Beyond the scale," I said flatly. "Don't forget rule number 1: no touching."
I lifted my right hand, using the tip of my black leather glove to press against his chin, shoving his face back by 2 inches.
Lucifer didn't pull away. Instead, his fingers reached up and gently closed around my gloved hand, holding it against his jaw.
"You're wearing a leather glove," he murmured, his thumb lightly stroking the smooth material. "So you wouldn't mind me holding it."
Why the hell is he holding my hand?!
Seriously, stop being so ridiculously annoying!
You are easily in the top 10 most infuriating men I have ever met in my entire life.
I kept my expression colder than a winter blizzard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a flustered reaction.
"You are years older than me, Lucifer," I noted dryly. "Surely you've seen far more beautiful women across the continents to chase after."
Lucifer's smile softened into something startlingly sincere, his crimson gaze locking into mine with absolute, heavy weight.
"The person looking at me right now is the most beautiful. Why should I waste my time on anyone else?"
A tiny, traitorous spike of heat bloomed beneath my collarbone.
Dammit.
How does he say such shameless things with a completely straight face?!
Stop blushing, Celia. Do not let this overgrown demon lord win.
I pulled my gloved hand back from his grip, clearing my throat sharply.
"That's enough. I have real work to do, so drop the flirting."
Lucifer sighed, a mock-pout touching his lips as he straightened his tall frame.
"As much as I'd love to stay and watch you conquer Sylvaris, I'm afraid I have to return to the Demon Continent for a few hours. Royal duties call."
I blinked, genuinely surprised.
Royal duties?
He hasn't left for royal duties once since coming here.
I suppose even the Demon Sovereign has his own kingdom to look after. I can't force him to stay.
"When will you be back?"
"In 4 to 5 hours," he replied.
I crossed my legs, smoothing the ruffles along my thigh.
"Good. You'll be back just in time to see the scenery."
"Oh? And what is this surprise?"
"The wait makes the taste sweeter," I countered.
"You taste sweet enough as is," Lucifer teased without missing a beat.
"I'm bitter."
"Then I'll just have to cultivate an appetite for bitter every single day."
Does this man have a comeback for literally everything in the universe?!
It is actually exhausting.
Before I could snap back, Lucifer raised 1 hand and flicked his fingers. A playful gust of wind magic danced across the desk, catching my neatly styled white hair and blowing my bangs into a messy, tangled halo across my face.
"You look far too hot in that outfit, Celia," he chuckled.
"Lucifer!"
I pushed the white strands out of my eyes with an irritated glare. With a snap of my wrist, I unleashed a sharp counter-gust of cursed wind that slammed straight into his face, violently messing up his immaculately swept white hair into a wild bird's nest.
"That's quite enough, Lucifer," I said, brushing my ruffles flat. "I assumed you had royal duties waiting."
Lucifer laughed, running a hand through his ruined hair without a care in the world.
"They can wait 2 minutes. Say my name again—it sounds magnificent when you say it like that."
I met his eyes dead-on, letting my voice drop into pure, unadulterated deadpan sarcasm.
"That is quite enough, Lucifer."
"Ahahaha!" Lucifer threw his head back, his rich laughter filling the room. "You're quite the troublemaker, sweetheart. Keep it up."
He pointed a playful finger gun at me, and with a soft pop of displaced air, his figure dissolved into a swirl of black and crimson embers, teleporting straight back to the Demon Continent.
I sat alone in the quiet office, exhaling a long, weary breath.
He has to be the most annoying person alive.
How does someone continue to flirt when I am actively being freezing cold to them? It makes zero sense. It's actually unsettling.
...Still, he brought the officers, the building, and the operational backing.
I'll thank him properly once he's back.
I straightened the documents on my desk, my crimson eyes sharpening with focus.
Now... it's time for the 2 most qualified visitors in this entire city to help me dismantle the Requiem Guild's monopoly forever.
Right on cue, 3 sharp knocks sounded against the heavy oak door.
Crownless's voice drifted through from the lobby:
"They're here, my Queen."
I adjusted my collar and leaned back into the leather cushion.
"Let them in."
The door clicked open.
Lucas stepped inside 1st, stopping dead in his tracks the instant his eyes landed on Crownless standing beside the doorway.
"Yo..." Lucas squinted, pointing a finger at Crownless's waistcoat and sleek horns. "You look kind of familiar. Have I seen you before?"
Crownless didn't even blink. He adjusted his silk tie with effortless grace.
"Yes, you have. I'm from your favorite anime."
Lucas's jaw dropped.
"Wait, what?! Anime exists in this world?!"
"My bad, OG," Crownless said smoothly, waving 1 dismissive hand toward my desk. "You should focus on speaking with the Mistress for now."
"Hey! Get back here!" Lucas sputtered, his face turning beet-red. "What did you just say to me?!"
You have got to be kidding me.
Crownless is already trolling Lucas with slang he stole from him.
Before Lucas could demand an explanation, Levi Ashton strolled past him, both hands casually stuffed into the pockets of his dark tunic. He whistled under his breath, casually taking in the high vaulted ceiling and crystal chandeliers.
"Whoa. This looks as good as Sylvia's office."
Then, Levi's luminous violet eyes drifted across the room and locked onto the desk.
He froze.
"Celia? That's you?!"
Lucas whipped his head around, his green eyes practically bulging out of his skull.
"Celia?!"
Both of them stood paralyzed in the center of the office, staring at me in absolute, speechless shock. They had received a mysterious, urgent summons to a new syndicate headquarters in the lower district, expecting an underground crime lord.
Instead, they found me.
White hair unbound. Dressed in the regal black and crimson coat of an underworld monarch.
And on my middle finger, the Ring of Empty Chaos glinted under the chandelier light.
I leaned forward, resting my chin against my laced, black-gloved fingers, letting a dangerous, beautiful smirk curl across my red lips.
Now begins my arc.
---
Perspective: Lucas
Location: Outer Glades — Southern Forest Outskirts
Time: 3:47 PM — February 1, 2018
The last iron-horn wasp dropped out of the canopy with a wet, heavy thud.
I flicked the black insect fluid off my light daggers, panting slightly as the glowing blades dissolved back into pure mana particles.
All around us, a clearing the size of an arena was littered with over 80 twitching, armored wasp carcasses, each 1 the size of a warhound.
"Nice toss, kiddo." Levi Ashton stepped over a severed stinger, casually spinning his Saint's Blade before sliding it into its dark scabbard with a crisp metallic click. Not a single drop of yellow wasp blood had touched his immaculate silver-trimmed tunic.
"Though honestly, I should've gone slower, you'd be covered in green blood right now."
He really cannot go 4 minutes without praising his own reflection.
I reached into my leather belt pouch and pulled out a jagged, palm-sized obsidian cube inscribed with glowing violet and crimson runes.
"Catch this," I muttered, hurling the cube straight into the center of the clearing.
The stone struck the damp moss and flared with a blinding pulse of dark mana. Concentrated demonic spatial arrays ripped through the dirt, expanding in a circle 20 meters wide. A deep, resonant hum vibrated through the soles of my combat boots.
Fwump.
A fraction of a second later, the air folded inward.
Every single wasp carcass vanished into thin air, leaving behind nothing but crushed ferns and clean dirt.
"Terrifying," Levi said, whistling under his breath with his hands already stuffed into his trouser pockets. "Truly chilling. We're using demon philosophy to power an underground monopoly, and I look magnificent assisting it."
"Yeah, who cares about the philosophy?" I rubbed my aching forearms with a grin. "At the end of the day, Celia is paying us 5 gold coins each. That's 5 times—no, 10 times—what Requiem would have given us for crawling through swamp muck."
Levi tilted his head back, laughing softly.
"Oh, Sylvia's guild is lovely for testing my abilities. But right now? All of her posted quests are low-tier garbage. And I deeply enjoy the idea of stealing every single 1 of her commissions just to see her composure shatter when she realizes Requiem's daily profit dropped to exactly zero."
We are definitely getting banned from the guildhall by tomorrow morning.
Worth it.
Celia had handed us a stolen manifest containing exactly 56 active contracts poached straight from Requiem's board by her scouts. The objective was simple: wipe out every single monster subjugation, harvest, and escort threat on the list before Requiem's registered adventurers even finished their breakfast tea.
"Ready for the next 1?" Levi asked, his violet eyes flashing with amusement.
"Ready."
I leaped upward.
Levi caught me by the scruff of my overcoat mid-air. He shut his eyes for 1 beat.
Violet lightning detonated beneath his boots. The world didn't just blur—it ceased to exist.
Blink.
We materialized 6 kilometers north in the shadowed gorge of Grey-Rock Valley.
Before us loomed a towering, skinwalker-type horror—a grotesque skeleton beast with 4 elongated, scythe-like limbs and an exposed ribcage that had been tormenting a border farming village for 2 weeks. It let out a bloodcurdling screech, rearing back to impale us.
Levi didn't even draw his full blade.
He took 1 step forward. A blinding arc of violet ionized severance flashed across the gorge.
The skinwalker was diced into 4 clean segments before its screech even bounced off the limestone cliffs.
I whipped out another obsidian cube and tossed it into the falling bones.
Fwump.
Ascended to Celia's shadow realm. Gone.
"Quest 23 down," I called out.
"Moving," Levi replied.
Another sonic leap.
At Quest 37, a subterranean blind-drake lunged from a fissure. Levi angled the polished silver flat of his scabbard against my palm, catching the beam of my concentrated light magic and refracting it at a sharp 45-degree angle.
The blinding flash scorched the beast's sensory horns. I drove a light dagger straight through its skull on the pivot, while Levi cleanly sheared off its tail on the rebound.
Fwump.
Teleported.
At Quest 45, an entire pack of 40 frost-fanged dire wolves swarmed across a frozen ravine.
We moved in total, blinding unison. Levi surged forward like a living storm of violet thunder, and I danced along his flanks with Lightstep II, weaving composite ice spikes and mirror beams to herd them into his kill-zone. In 12 seconds flat, the entire ravine was silent.
By the time the sun dipped low behind the western mountain ridges, casting long amber shadows across the southern provinces, it was exactly 5:00 PM.
The final beast—a massive 8-legged armored chitterer—collapsed into the dirt with its armor plates shattered.
I hurled the 56th cube. The purple runes flared. The carcass dissolved into empty space.
All 56 quests wiped clean.
A sudden, golden notification window flared in my vision, accompanied by a sharp ringing chime in my ears.
```
┌───────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ LEVEL UP! │
├───────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│ Current Level: 48 │
│ Free Attribute Points Available: 8 │
└───────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
Level 48 already?!
Wiping out 56 guild quests in 1 afternoon gave me 6 whole levels!
I grinned, mentally opening my status window to dump all 8 available points straight into my favorite stat.
A sarcastic, flamboyant voice immediately echoed inside my skull, dripping with absolute contempt.
「Lil Bro has zero aura. Your combat attributes are completely mid, but you really dumped all 8 points into Jokes? It's at 600 now. Truly inspirational clown behavior. Peak comedy, zero bitches.」
Shut up, Clanker!
Jokes are the ultimate psychological defense mechanism! When the world ends, I want to be #1 humor!
```
┌───────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ STATUS MENU │
├───────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│ Name: Lucas │
│ Class: Supreme Sorcerer │
│ Level: 48 │
│ Age: 15 │
│ HP / MP: 2200 / 2000 | 3100 / 3100 │
├───────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│ Attributes: │
│ Strength: 17 │
│ Agility: 18 │
│ Endurance: 19 │
│ Perception: 29 │
│ Intelligence: 28 │
│ Mana: 26 │
│ Divine Creation: 1 │
│ Jokes: 600 │
├───────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│ Active Skills & Protections: │
│ • Light-Elemental Magic │
│ • Mana Control (Lv. 4) │
│ • Lightstep II (175% Speed Boost) │
│ • Foresight (7 seconds into combat future) │
│ • Divine Protection: Adaptive Venom │
└───────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
「Look at you standing there with your 600 Joke stat while the Sword Saint carries your bags. A comedy masterclass, honestly.」
Your intellectual capacity appears somewhat limited. I am joke farming.
Levi walked over, dusting a speck of dry pine needle off his dark cloak. He extended a closed fist toward me with an easy, cocky smirk.
"All 56 done. Not a single coin left for Requiem's books today."
I bumped his fist with a wide grin.
"Let's go get our paycheck."
---
Perspective: Celia
Location: Lower Commercial District — Syndicate Headquarters
Time: 7:00 PM — February 1, 2018
Warm candlelight flickered inside the crystal sconces of my office, casting long golden reflections across the dark mahogany paneling.
I sat behind the massive executive desk, leaning back into the velvet chair. The black military coat rested perfectly over my shoulders, its gold embroidery gleaming in the soft glow, my white hair cascading past the armrests like spun silk.
The double doors clicked open.
Lucas and Levi strolled inside, both looking surprisingly unbothered for 2 people who had just spent 3 hours butchering half the monsters in the southern province.
Lucas unhooked his midnight overcoat, slumping into 1 of the leather armchairs with a relieved groan, while Levi strolled forward with his hands casually resting in his pockets.
I looked up from my desk, resting my chin against my laced black gloves.
"How did it go?"
"All according to plan, Sis." Lucas gave a tired 2-finger wave. "Every single contract on that board was cleared, tagged, and vaporized."
Good work.
A quiet surge of fierce pride warmed my chest.
According to the master ledger resting on my desk, the spatial cube network co-developed with Crownless and Lucifer had performed beyond expectations. Every time Lucas threw a cube onto a carcass, the runes teleported the remains straight to Bella's subterranean processing facility for dissection and resource liquidation.
And simultaneously, because I had woven my own ascension curse into the core of each spatial relay, the residual spiritual essence of every harvested creature was drawn directly into my shadow authority.
In a single afternoon, my demonic army had assimilated 567 different types of monsters.
From iron-horn wasps and bone skinwalkers to subterranean drakes and dire wolves, every single beast was now bound to my command. Growing an unstoppable shadow army while systematically stripping the city's corrupt guild of its monopoly—that was real power.
Levi stopped before the edge of my desk, studying me with sharp, luminous violet eyes.
"You've changed a lot, Celia. I can't lie."
I blinked, tilting my head slightly.
"Changed?"
Of course I have.
The fragile, weeping girl, begging for approval and drinking bitter tea she hated, is dead and buried.
"The dress, the looks, the confidence..." Levi's signature smirk widened across his lips, full of easy swagger. "Seems like you've managed to acquire a fraction of my prestige."
I narrowed my eyes with a deadpan glare.
"A fraction of your prestige? You're the self-proclaimed number 1 sword saint."
"Not self-proclaimed," Levi corrected smoothly, tapping his chest with 1 thumb. "World-claimed. There's a massive distinction."
Lucas rolled his eyes from the armchair.
"Yeah, literally nobody calls you the number 1 except your own reflection, bro."
Before Levi could fire back a roast, the ambient temperature in the room plunged.
A sharp tear of spatial distortion ripped open in the center of the office. Dark, velvet-crimson embers swirled through the air, and Lucifer materialized into the room with sovereign grace.
His thick white hair was neatly swept back, his long black royal coat brushing against his polished boots. His crimson eyes scanned the room, resting on Lucas slouched in the armchair, Levi standing tall beside my desk, and me sitting behind the mahogany with my chin propped on my laced fingers.
"Quite the guests you have here, Celia," Lucifer said, his deep baritone carrying an amused, purring lilt. "Perhaps I should leave you alone."
"They're not guests," I replied cleanly, holding his gaze. "They're my friends."
Lucas sat bolt upright in his chair, his green eyes bulging.
"Wait... what?! No way! Celia, you're really running this whole syndicate with HIM?!"
Levi didn't back down. He turned his head slowly, taking in Lucifer's towering 195 cm frame and the dense, crushing weight of demonic authority rolling off him. A low whistle escaped Levi's lips.
"Whoa. Your aura is insanely strong, mate. You might actually be powerful." Levi tilted his chin, his smirking violet eyes locking dead onto Lucifer's crimson ones.
"How about you and I have a duel? Would be a phenomenal way to test my Godspeed."
Lucifer let out a rich, velvet chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Ahahaha. That's quite an interesting offer coming from a mortal Sword Saint. Perhaps another day, blade master. Not right now."
Lucifer stepped closer to the desk, his eyes softening as he looked down at me.
"I concluded my royal duties early in the Nether Realm. I couldn't resist returning to see what sort of surprise you had prepared for me."
Right on cue, the side door clicked open.
Bella strode into the office, her emerald-green hair gleaming under the candlelight. She carried 2 heavy, velvet-lined satchels that clinked with the dense, unmistakable weight of solid gold coins.
She bowed respectfully to me before stepping toward Levi and Lucas, handing 1 satchel to each of them.
"Your compensation for today's fieldwork, gentlemen," Bella announced in a crisp, professional tone.
Lucas untied the leather drawstring, peeked inside, and nearly choked on his own tongue.
"20 gold coins?!" Lucas gasped, his voice cracking violently. "Wait—Celia, you said 5! This is quadruple what you promised!"
Even Levi's permanent smirk faltered for a fraction of a second as he weighed the heavy pouch in his palm.
"20 gold," Levi muttered, raising 1 dark eyebrow. "Now that's what I call proper appreciation for art."
I leaned forward, tapping 1 gloved finger against the mahogany grain.
"Thanks to Crownless's accounting and Bella's liquidation pipelines, we returned our initial investment within 2 hours. Today alone, we poached 145 gold in direct commission fees that Requiem was expecting to collect. And from dissecting and liquidating the beast cores, pelts, and venom sacs, we netted ourselves an additional 223 gold in pure profit."
Lucas stared at me like I had just turned water into diamonds.
"Yo... you're filthy rich now!"
Filthy rich?
223 gold is just the step.
My goal is 5,000 gold by the end of 30 days, and our profit margins are only going to skyrocket from here.
Lucifer began to clap softly, his tall figure leaning against the corner of my desk as he looked down at me with radiant pride.
"Quite impressive," Lucifer purred, his voice dropping into a teasing, possessive murmur. "Coming from my future wife."
Levi froze mid-step.
He blinked, glancing between Lucifer's smug face and my cold expression.
"Future wife?" Levi raised an eyebrow, his tone turning dangerously blunt. "Yo, Demon Lord... I think you're mistaken. If I recall correctly, she's already taken."
The atmosphere in the room turned to ice.
Lucifer's smile vanished. His crimson eyes sharpened into 2 slits of lethal, sovereign authority, glaring straight at Levi.
I glared at Levi just as fiercely, kicking his shin lightly beneath the desk.
"He only knows the past, Lucifer," I snapped, cutting through the tension. "Drop it."
Levi didn't flinch. He walked closer to my chair, looking directly at Lucifer with complete, fearless disregard for the demon's royal status.
"The Demon Lord of the Nether Realm is operating in your pocket, Celia. That makes you pretty terrifying. But you actually want to be his wife?"
"He's imagining things," I said flatly, rubbing my temples. "Don't take him seriously."
Levi burst into a loud, booming laugh.
"Hahaha! That makes sense! Why else would you downgrade yourself and lower your standards?"
My jaw dropped.
Did he just say that out loud to Lucifer?!
Lucifer's shoulders went rigid. A terrifying, oppressive wave of primordial curse pressure erupted from his body, heavy enough to make the floorboards creak and the candle flames turn pure, sickly black.
"Downgrade?" Lucifer's voice was a low, melodic threat that vibrated through the stone walls.
"Care to elaborate, swordsman?"
Levi didn't draw his sword. He didn't even shift his stance. He just stood there with 1 hand resting casually on his hip, completely immune to the terror rolling off the Demon Lord.
"I just can't hold myself back," Levi said with a casual shrug.
"Being the world's strongest Sword Saint has its quirks."
"Levi, shut up," I warned, feeling the demonic pressure pressing against my own barriers.
"Look, mate," Levi said, pointing a finger at Lucifer with effortless insolence. "I've known Celia much longer than you have. I know how far she can go, and I know what she's worth. You might possess the most intimidating aura I've ever seen from a man, but still..."
Levi clicked his tongue with a mocking wink.
"Not even close."
Levi turned on his heel toward the door.
"I shall be taking my leave."
Lucifer's knuckles tightened, dark embers gathering along his fingertips.
I immediately stood up, placing my black-gloved palm flat against Lucifer's chest, blocking his path.
"Wait, Lucifer," I commanded, keeping my voice firm and unwavering. "Levi doesn't know what happened between me and Kaiser. He's making assumptions based on old memories. Let it go."
Lucifer looked down at my hand resting against his chest. Slowly, the suffocating demonic pressure faded from the air, the candles flickering back to their warm gold glow.
"That's all right," Lucifer murmured, exhaling softly. "I am quite merciful. Your friends can take their leave."
I turned toward Levi, narrowing my eyes with a stern glare.
"Levi. Do not speak to Lucifer like that ever again."
Levi paused at the threshold, glancing back over his shoulder.
"I'll respect your request, Celia," Levi said, his tone softening into genuine, respectful sincerity. "Not because you're some boss I have to obey, but because you're an old friend of mine that I respect."
I offered him a faint, grateful nod.
"Thank you."
Levi grinned, immediately grabbing Lucas by the collar of his coat and hauling him out of the armchair.
"Come on, bro. We're going."
"Hey! Why are you dragging me?!" Lucas protested, clutching his 20 gold coins to his chest.
"Bro, you just made 20 gold coins! You're loaded! Dinner's on you!"
"50-50!" Lucas yelled.
"Nah, 70-30."
"No, bro! 50-50! We split the bill down the middle or I'm eating alone!"
"Fine, fine, 50-50. Let's go."
Their bickering voices faded down the corridor as the heavy oak doors clicked shut behind them.
I let out a long, exhausted breath, slumping back against the edge of the desk.
I looked up at Lucifer, who was still staring quietly at the doorway.
"I'm sorry for Levi's antics," I said softly. "He had the wrong idea about you and... that person. He doesn't know you, so he was just making careless assumptions. Please don't take it to heart."
Lucifer looked down at me, the tension leaving his face as a gentle, tender smile touched his lips.
"If you ask me like that, Celia, then I won't."
He leaned down, his crimson eyes locking onto mine with quiet, undeniable warmth.
"I'm proud of you, Celia. What you accomplished today was far more impressive than anything I anticipated. Not just in gold, but in conviction, leadership, and resolve. You are truly magnificent."
A faint, traitorous warmth crept up my neck into my cheeks.
I cleared my throat, averting my gaze slightly.
"Well... thank you very much. But that was only the 1st day. Keep watching—I'm going to show you the full scenery I plan to build."
Lucifer snapped his fingers with a bright, charming smile.
"In that case, how about you and I celebrate with a royal dinner together?"
I tapped 1 gloved finger against my red lips, humming thoughtfully.
"Hmm... No. I'm going to eat Pav Bhaji."
Lucifer blinked, completely bewildered.
"Pav Bhaji?"
"Yes," I said firmly, pushing myself off the desk. "I want some alone time after my victory. So give me some privacy now, would you, Sir Lucifer?"
Lucifer's eyes gleamed with amused delight.
"'Sir Lucifer'? You're playing with fire, sweetheart, but I'm happy to oblige."
"I would love to see your compliance," I replied with a cool smirk. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
I smoothed down the crimson ruffles of my coat and began walking toward the door. As I reached the threshold, I glanced back over my shoulder with a small, knowing smile.
"Maybe we can have dinner together some other day, Lucifer. Just so I can properly thank you for helping me set this up. Don't get any wrong ideas."
Lucifer leaned against the desk, his smirk widening.
"Oh, I will definitely get the wrong idea."
Is that a yes or a no?
Either way, he's impossible.
"Bye-bye." I waved my black-gloved fingers and stepped out into the evening corridor.
The cool night air of Sylvaris greeted me as I stepped onto the cobblestone street. The lanterns of the lower market were already glowing, casting soft orange halos across the damp stone.
The click of my red heels sounded light and triumphant.
It's only the 1st day.
I shouldn't brag, but I actually did it. I seized control of the workflow, built my own organization, and proved I can stand on my own 2 feet without hiding behind anyone.
A sudden, unbidden thought crossed my mind.
Kaiser.
I stopped beneath the glow of an iron streetlamp, looking down at my hands.
With 223 gold earned in 1 afternoon and thousands more on the horizon, I already held more capital than Kaiser had ever possessed in his entire life.
I wonder what your face will look like when you realize you were wrong about me.
You thought I was weak. You thought I was a helpless burden who would crumble into pieces the second you threw me away.
Just you wait, Kaiser Everhart.
I'm going to prove you wrong with every single achievement I build. And when you finally regret everything you said to me and try to crawl back, the satisfaction I'll feel when I reject your poor, arrogant face will be absolute perfection.
I shook my head vigorously, tossing my white hair over my shoulder with a sharp scoff.
Now then. I shouldn't be wasting my precious thoughts on that broke boy.
I have far more important matters to handle.
Like a steaming, buttered plate of Pav Bhaji!
A wide, excited smile broke across my face. I picked up my pace, walking with a cheerful, bouncy skip down the lantern-lit street toward the food stalls.
---
Perspective: Kaiser
Location: Lower District — The Rusted Anchor Tavern
Time: 9:45 PM — February 1, 2018
The scarred pine table was sticky with spilled ale, but I didn't have the energy to care.
I lay with my cheek pressed flat against the wooden bench, my arms crossed beneath my chin, staring blankly at the crack in the floorboards. My limbs felt like they had been forged from lead and soaked in cold water for 12 hours.
Heavy, hurried footsteps approached the table.
A tired tavern waiter tossed a stained rag over his shoulder, holding a greasy notepad.
"Yo. You want something, kid?"
I didn't lift my head.
"How much does tap water cost?"
The waiter stared down at me in disbelief.
"It's free."
"Bring me 5 glasses," I mumbled into the wood, closing my eyes. "And the cheapest thing on the menu. I'm completely exhausted, so please take your time."
The waiter squinted at me for 2 long seconds.
"Okay... whatever you say, weirdo."
He shuffled away toward the kitchen.
I let out a slow, dry breath, propping my chin up on 1 bruised elbow.
Beside my arm on the bench lay a battered, dog-eared leather notebook.
I flipped the page open with my thumb.
Neat, methodical ink lines filled the parchment. Exactly 6 businesses across the city's supply chain were crossed off with thick black strokes:
Beneath the 6 crossed-out names, number 7 was circled with a small ink arrow:
→ 7. The Central Grain & Food Monopoly
→ 8. The Succubus Entertainment District
Tomorrow is going to be equally boring and troublesome.
And the succubus trade...
I rubbed my aching temples with 2 fingers, staring at the ceiling rafters.
I'm going to be drained completely dry that night, but hopefully it'll be worth the equity.
At the very top of the page, written in clean, uncompromising handwriting, was my personal milestone:
`Goal: 15,000 gold coins by the end of 3 months.`
Right beside the number, drawn during an idle 5 minutes while waiting for a contract to dry, was a small, ridiculous pencil doodle: a tiny stick-figure version of myself holding an oversized wooden stick against a chubby, derpy-looking dragon-dinosaur.
The waiter set down 5 cloudy glasses of tap water and a hard, stale crust of barley bread on the table.
I pulled my worn black jacket tighter around my shoulders, picked up the 1st glass of water, and swallowed it in 1 long gulp.
Then I collapsed my forehead back against the hard wooden bench, letting sleep pull me under.
I am so broke.