"Skadi, you're awake… Are you alright?"
"Laurentina… Why am I here?"
"You don't remember? You went alone to meet that duke, and then suddenly collapsed out of nowhere. Honestly, you didn't even bring your weapon… Do you know him?"
"…No. I don't remember anything about him."
"I see… Wait—Skadi, your body!"
"What about it?"
"Your symptoms—they've lessened!"
"…"
While Laurentina was still reeling in surprise at how Skadi's abnormal condition had improved, Duke Kashchey had already arrived at Mobius's research facility.
Satan, dressed in a black tailcoat and top hat, and Mobius, wearing her lab coat, silently watched as Kashchey's body continued to show signs of severe mutation.
Kashchey was fighting desperately to prevent Ishar'mla from reshaping his body.
It was hideous. Unacceptable.
Utterly against his sense of aesthetics.
"Ishar'mla, aren't you hungry? Look—I've prepared plenty of nutrients for you. Go on, eat."
Kashchey gestured toward the piles of refined industrial sugar that Satan had teleported in.
"I've also prepared a place for you to rest and recover. Look here!"
He pointed to the culture vessel beside Mobius.
There was no way he could allow Ishar'mla to appear in her true Seaborn form.
Kashchey wasn't certain how many people truly understood how dangerous the Seaborn were—but he wasn't willing to gamble on that.
If he didn't have the special status of "Ig" to protect him, and he ever discovered a Seaborn himself, he would've been the first to eliminate it—
…well, perhaps while shouting encouragement safely from behind the lines.
Either way, Black Snake had to hide Ishar'mla, to make sure no one discovered her true nature.
And for that, a clone vessel was the perfect solution.
"…Ig, your body is so fragile. How can you possibly hunt enough nourishment like this? Let me help you reshape it—just like we did in the sea."
Ishar'mla hesitated for a moment, but ultimately didn't change her mind.
To her, this body of Kashchey's was utterly worthless.
"Ishar'mla, life on land follows rules and methods of hunting that are very different from the sea. I'll explain everything slowly… but don't cause trouble."
"…Alright, Ig."
Obediently, Ishar'mla left Kashchey's body and entered the culture vessel.
For someone unfamiliar with life on land, she was willing to trust Ig—the same kin who had lived here far longer than she.
Now reduced to countless minute spores, she began to gather and reform within the culture medium.
She needed sustenance.
Satan poured the refined sugars into the instruments, while Mobius—along with several of her other selves—calmly coordinated the complex machinery.
As Ishar'mla left his body, the signs of mutation on Kashchey's form gradually faded.
What a nuisance.
He stared at the culture vessel intently, his thoughts turning dark.
For a moment, a daring idea flashed through his mind—
but he dismissed it just as quickly.
No. I'm not confident I could kill her.
Sigh… I'll just have to play this by ear.
Whether it's the sea or the land, there will always be a place for the Black Snake.
Still… could I perhaps use the Seaborn's unique adaptive evolution to achieve true coexistence between sea and land?
…Now that would be interesting.
---
"Mandragora, how about a trip to Siesta? Interested?"
Cape led Mandragora through one of his factories.
Standing beside her was another Dublinn operative—Harmonie.
Assignments like evaluating a partner's production capacity weren't exactly Mandragora's strength.
Of course, Cape couldn't say that outright, so the Dublinn leader had sent Harmonie along "to avoid suspicion."
"What are you scheming this time?"
"Haha… Miss Mandragora, you really do have a way with words~ It's nothing sinister—just a friendly invitation. Can't you, out of our long-standing friendship, protect your poor, helpless, and pitiful friend for once? My business in Siesta has been running into… a few problems lately."
"…Heh. And how much are you paying me to 'help'?"
"Forget it, then. I was hoping to get a free favor. If I have to pay, that's not worth it. I never do a deal at a loss."
"…Cape!"
Off to the side, Harmonie watched the entire exchange with a polite smile.
Of course, she had no intention of trying to get information out of the shamelessly playful Cape.
No matter how frivolous or deranged he acted, nothing could disguise the fact that he was dangerous.
To underestimate an enemy is to underestimate oneself.
"May I inspect the facilities on my own?" Harmonie asked calmly.
"Of course," Cape replied lazily.
"But snooping around for trade secrets? That's off-limits~"
Two security guards in Cape Corporation's specialized protective gear silently stepped forward, flanking Harmonie as she walked away.
Their security detail isn't bad, she noted inwardly.
Those two guards were no ordinary rent-a-cops—they were competent, easily considered top-tier by industrial standards.
Still, compared to Dublinn's elite operatives, they were far from impressive.
But everyone knew this couldn't possibly represent Cape Corporation's true power.
Even so, Harmonie didn't believe Cape's organization could overpower Dublinn militarily.
If they could, they wouldn't still be tolerating those gluttonous nobles of Victoria.
Descending to the factory floor, Harmonie observed the workers. Each one was working with near-fanatical intensity, eyes burning with a zeal that bordered on feverish.
Her attention shifted to an old but functioning screen mounted on the ceiling.
Although the display was slightly outdated, it clearly listed rows of names—each followed by a set of numerical values.
"This is…"
"These are the names of every employee, along with their personal contribution scores, Miss Harmonie," one of the guards explained.
"Our company, Cape Corporation, prides itself on fairness and a positive work environment. Every ounce of profit we generate is shared—our annual bonuses, holidays, even promotions are all distributed according to contribution scores."
The guard spoke with pride, chest puffed out, his tone brimming with conviction.
"I'm proud to be part of Cape Corporation. The boss often shares his experiences with us, encouraging us to work harder and better ourselves. He always says—if you work hard enough, if you surpass the rest—then you might be the next one to succeed."
The second guard, more talkative than the first, added eagerly.
"…Your company certainly has energy," Harmonie replied lightly.
Her eyes swept once more across the industrious workers.
And then—she noticed it.
Something felt off.
They're… hostile toward each other?
Harmonie realized what was happening.
Each worker wanted to climb higher within Cape's factory.
That meant each of them was competing—to create more value, to prove that they were the best.
Colleagues had turned into rivals.
Rivals into enemies—each one fighting for their share of survival.
And those who didn't want to compete so fiercely?
When surrounded by such relentless drive, they had no choice but to join in.
After all, Cape Corporation offered far better benefits—and more "fairness"—than any other company.
Because here, everyone existed to create value for Cape Reiss.
"Mr. Cape certainly knows how to manage people…"