After Theresa voiced her decision with such firm conviction, Theresis involuntarily turned his head back, gazing at her with complicated eyes.
"Are you sure?"
"The Head won't offer overt assistance, but it has promised that The City will lend a helping hand. Even with just the existing entities and corporations from The City alone...they could already provide Kazdel with immense support."
Theresa exhaled softly, continuing: "This should have been agreed upon in previous negotiations."
And with those words spoken, it became Theresis's turn to sink into hesitation.
Should he accept Theresa's suggestion or not?
Emotionally, of course, he wanted to accept it. But there were still too many issues to consider… Could Kazdel afford to stake itself on this massive gamble?
A gamble whose odds of success remained perpetually uncertain?
Theresis felt as if no time had passed, yet his mind had cycled through the question again and again.
"I think it sounds like a great idea, doesn't it?"
Suddenly, a third voice interrupted their conversation. Theresa and Theresis simultaneously raised their heads, gazing toward the door—from where that familiar voice emerged.
They soon saw the newcomer.
A silver-haired woman strode confidently into the room, unimpeded by the Confessarii—Theresis remembered clearly that he himself had ordered them to allow her entry.
Because this was Heal. Currently, one of the most critical partners of Kazdel's Military Council.
"What brings you here?"
Theresis stood, pausing the earlier conversation as he addressed Heal directly.
"Just checking in on my allies, of course. As a merchant, my instincts tell me there's quite a lucrative deal to be made here."
Heal let out a casual whistle, her lips curved into a playful smile. Theresa similarly lifted her head, studying this friend she found simultaneously familiar yet distant.
"…Did you overhear everything?"
"Naturally. Nothing escapes my notice."
Heal affirmed confidently. Then her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked directly into Theresis's face.
"That's precisely why I intend to ask you—"
"What exactly is making you hesitate? Is it the potential Sarkaz casualties? Opposition from the Ten Kings Court? Or perhaps the looming shadow of war?"
"Hmm… At the end of the day, I suppose it all comes down to the likelihood of people dying, doesn't it?"
A bold, irreverent smile danced upon Heal's lips. Theresis stiffened slightly before nodding slowly.
At that, Heal's grin widened even further. She withdrew a green ampoule from her waist pouch, swaying it lightly beneath the room's glow, a gleam in her eyes as she spoke:
"But honestly—can that really be called a problem?"
"Allow me to reintroduce myself. You're now dealing with Heal, founder of K Corp, whose primary business is medical solutions. Whether it's injuries or diseases, we guarantee flawless healing."
"We'll gladly support you both. Should you pursue this possibility, we'll supply you with ampoules in amounts beyond your imagination. In exchange, all we ask is a small... 'insignificant' price."
"How does that trade sound to you two?"
Heal extended her arms, her lips curling upward into an enigmatic, amused smirk.
It's inventory clearance time!
Heal had been impatiently eyeing K Corp's warehouses filled to the brim with ampoules of liquid!
Theresa and Theresis exchanged a glance.
The answer seemed self-evident now.
"The price is negotiable, naturally… As a merchant, I must take my due. But rest assured, no matter how many ampoules you require, the cost will remain within your means."
"…I understand."
Theresis spoke softly, closing his eyes briefly. He then crossed an arm over his chest, his voice steady as he continued:
"Starting from now, Kazdel will slowly announce a ceasefire…"
"And once peace is fully established, we'll announce the reunification of the Military Council with Babel Tower, pursuing the possibility of co-governance."
---
"Ohh, so that's Kazdel over there!"
Elsewhere, Don Quixote marched through the wastelands, gazing toward the distant horizon where Kazdel's silhouette faintly appeared, his voice full of admiration.
"Please be cautious, Don Quixote-san… Kazdel isn't exactly peaceful."
Nearl trailed behind Don Quixote, hands clasped behind her back, sighing gently as she spoke.
"After all, it's a country ravaged by countless years of civil war. Instability is only to be expected."
Nearl murmured as she gazed toward Kazdel. Yet she quickly realized Don Quixote wasn't really listening to her words.
Indeed, having already dashed ahead ten meters, Don Quixote seemed entirely captivated by an overturned cart at the side of the road, clearly oblivious to her warnings.
"Hey! Sigh…forget it."
Nearl called out once, but quickly gave in to resignation, stepping forward to stand once more shoulder-to-shoulder with Don Quixote.
"What did you find this time?"
"Hmm… I was just wondering about something. Like why there's an overturned cart here, of all places?"
"Most likely mercenaries ambushing someone hired for transport. Unclear whether the original occupants survived."
Nearl cast only a brief glance at the cart before confidently reaching her conclusion. Don Quixote responded with an exaggerated expression of surprise.
"The Fixers here—um, are they really so lacking in discipline?"
"If you equate mercenaries directly with Fixers, then yes, they're about the same. After all, Sarkaz mercenaries epitomize chaos…"
"But that's completely unacceptable! These ruffians have utterly betrayed the soul and ethics of a Fixer!"
Don Quixote cut Nearl off passionately, his tone brimming with righteous indignation. Nearl placed a weary hand to her forehead.
She already knew exactly what Don Quixote was about to say next. It really didn't require any guesswork…
"This injustice is intolerable—I've decided!"
"As a righteous Fixer Knight, I must educate these unjust mercenaries, showing them the true virtue of a Fixer's justice!"
"Nearl! Where's the nearest Fixer Association office?"
"If you're referring to the mercenary markets, I'm not entirely sure. But we can probably just ask anyone nearby…"
Nearl sighed deeply, calmly responding.
Somehow, none of this surprised her in the slightest.
The only feeling left in her was a faint, quiet sympathy for the Sarkaz mercenaries who had drawn Don Quixote's attention.