analyse...
As moments passed, Yuruki let out a quiet sigh, her thoughts drifting somewhere far heavier than the silence around her. She glanced sideways at the person standing beside her—waiting, patiently, as if expecting something inevitable.
"So," Yuruki said at last, her voice flat, stripped of emotion, "what exactly do you want to do to me?"
There was nothing else she could be doing right now. Her hands rested inside her bag, fingers unmoving, as though even effort itself had become optional.
The woman in the cloak didn't flinch.
"I want to help you," she said calmly. "Seeing those artifacts you carry—things that are definitely not from this place—made me curious. Something like that shouldn't exist here... but it could be integrated into this kingdom."
Yuruki exhaled through her nose.
Humans. Always humans.
So many voices. So many rules. Endless regulations about how a perfect society should be designed—according to them. And now another one had appeared to bother her.
For what?
She was already exhausted. Tired of being useless. Tired of standing still while time moved forward without her. If only there were a way to create something—anything—quickly.
Machines were always better.
Robots were efficient.
Androids were acceptable. They thought like humans, but they could be controlled. Managed. Directed.
She knew the irony of it. She knew she was being a hypocrite even entertaining the thought. But maybe... maybe that was what her creator had wanted all along.
A self-replicating clone.
Built only to work.
To function.
To be opened up and studied.
Her thoughts brushed against the memory of it—cold, invasive—like numbers etched into her chest.
[0-04-02]
She hated it.
She really hated it.
...What am I even thinking?
Yuruki straightened slightly.
"Alright," she said at last. "But I only need one thing."
The cloaked woman tilted her head, studying her.
"What is it?"
Yuruki smiled faintly as she met her gaze, her slit pupils narrowing just a bit.
"What kind of currency does this kingdom use?"
The answer came plainly, with her explaining everything of what the economy of this kingdom is.
The currency of the kingdom was derived from the King himself. It was called Chitin, and each form served a distinct function.
The first was Termarch.
Termarch was a high-value currency personally distributed by the King, made valuable not only by decree but by its absolute limitation. Only 21 million Termarch could ever exist. No more could be created—ever.
Termarch was granted solely through achievement and contribution to the kingdom. Of the total supply, 11.6 million were currently locked away, with the remaining amount circulating throughout the realm.
Its subdivisions followed strict structure:
1 Termarch = 100 Tiramarch
1 Tiramarch = 100 Termaria units
The system was precise. Controlled.
The second form was also called Termaria, though of a different nature.
This version was forged by the kingdom's artificers, created as both a functional item and a medium of trade. Unlike the King's Termarch, it had no absolute limit—but its production was still heavily restricted.
Not free.
Not uncontrolled.
Everything had rules.
Yuruki listened carefully, eyes unreadable.
So this was how value worked here.
Yuuri paused for a moment, weighing her thoughts. If I had any way out of this... she thought. That person is overwhelmingly powerful. I have to follow their laws, their regulations... or I might fail this time.
"Alright, lady," she said at last, her voice calm but edged with resolve. "I'm grateful for what you've given me."
The woman smiled faintly.
"So, I'll need a proposal from you."
"Thanks, but I don't need it," Yuuri replied, though surprise flickered across her face. Without another word, she quietly slipped away, scampers of movement carefully measured. Too many variables in this escape could go wrong; it would be better to handle things herself.
She froze slightly as she approached the person hunched over a sheet of graphing paper, meticulously analyzing some intricate structures.
"Sir," she asked cautiously, "what might interest you in giving me a map?"
The person's gaze was unreadable, silently weighing options. Gold? Insect shells? Metalloids?
"What about Termarch?" she asked.
The figure shook their head, dismissive.
"I don't believe in it."
"Well don't you want someone to know of your work?"
The person stayed silent with his cartographer and a hat as he was sitting on the ground. He suddenly extend his hand and gaved a piece of a map. "This is a copy of my work..." Then continued drawing and writing on paper.
That was... something. But it could work for Yuuri. She was currently penniless, and that was a problem that needed solving.
A girl nearby, part of a uniformed group dressed in white with black stripes, noticed her. Smiling, she handed Yuuri a small tray.
"Here, ma'am," the girl said. On it was a plant with dark stripes along its edges, glimmering with a faint, blue luminescent dew, a bread, and a dense, soft piece of meat Yuuri had never encountered—like sushi, but heavier, more compact. Hot, at least, as she picked it up and cut into it with a curious, fork-like utensil they had given her.
"Ma'am, will you be taking part in the distribution of aid across the citizens?" the girl asked.
Yuuri looked away, hiding her thoughts behind a faint smile.
"Don't I need an ID?" she muttered. Screw this fantasy-like kingdom... I guess it isn't as unsophisticated as I thought.
"Oh, you're still affected by all this," the girl replied, handing over a basket with a set of sharp teeth protruding slightly from her smile. "As an Outside Citizen, you can quickly get an ID here."
Time passed as Yuuri walked through the bustling center of the kingdom. Guards handed out five Tiramarch of currency to waiting citizens. The guards' muscles ached, their drill swords held firm but heavy. A few white-uniformed officers stood off to the side, cloaked from head to toe, perfectly professional and utterly unyielding.
Hundreds of people waited. Black-striped and white-uniformed guards alike were dripping with sweat, exhausted.
"Dammit... how long are we gonna keep at this?" muttered one of the striped guards.
Another, leaning wearily on his sword like a cane, muttered back, "Duck... there's gotta be a million citizens in this kingdom." The white knights with a stepped they quickly into formation behind him, stamping down without a word.
Yuuri observed quietly, scanning the line. At the counter, a girl in a white uniform looked up.
"Your ID, ma'am?"
Yuuri froze. "I... don't have one."
The girl gestured to a small crystal embedded into a pad. A fingerprint was pressed, scanned, and a new ID appeared in Yuruki's hand, along with five coins of Tiramarch tucked neatly in a pouch.
"Thank you," Yuruki looking at the ID
"Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."
She walked away, catching snippets of conversation from nearby. A man with a thick red beard—strikingly different from the mostly clean-shaven citizens with black, atleast the king himself which was white... Adam, or gray hair—sighed.
"My dear niece... she's in such a mess right now."
A girl with long black hair, calm and empathetic, replied, "Come on. We'll support her. Trust the White King's authority. She'll provide food, money, and education until she earns her degree."
The man frowned, holding a butcher's knife, mechanical tools, tubes, and screws strapped to his back over an apron. "Wait... everything's fine?"
The woman tugged lightly on his arm. "Her grandfather died, remember? How is that fine?"
Yuuri's gaze drifted past them, uninterested. She kept walking, ears attuned but detached, letting the constant bickering fade behind her steps.
Then she see's a kid with a petite look and a white medium hair, a drill sword by his side... With a mask, covering in black cloak..
"Wait"