Orario: Hermes Familia Office
Asfi sat amid towering stacks of documents, receiving reports from a communications officer: "This is the latest from Swordsmith City."
She removed her glasses, rubbing her temples: "About that man? What else do we have?"
"The goods from Orario are circulating across kingdoms, Vice-Commander Lulune says they're all talking monsters."
Asfi waved the officer away, opening Lulune's letter with a sigh: "Lord Hermes just gives orders… How am I supposed to explain this to Leon?"
She burned the letter, tucked another report into her clothes, and headed out to the Hostess of Fertility, Orario's most exclusive tavern, staffed by beautiful girls and priced accordingly.
Syr, the silver-haired vendor, blocked her path instead of greeting customers: "Ryu went shopping."
"Really?" Asfi sat down casually. "Bring me dessert then."
"She won't be back for ages."
"I'll wait."
Syr stormed to the kitchen. Soon after, Ryu emerged, wiping her hands. Her expression hardened: "What do you want?"
Asfi pulled out an envelope: "Important intelligence, you'll want to see this."
Ryu reached for it, but Asfi pulled back: "Exchange."
Ryu's eyes flashed with irritation. Asfi shrugged: "No free rides."
"What do you want?"
"The Gem Tree Fruit on the 25th floor guarded by the Tree Dragon."
After a long silence, Ryu nodded: "Deal."
She tore open the envelope and scanned the contents. "Phoenix Merchant Guild… Loudora…" Her fingers crumpled the paper as anger flashed in her eyes. She tossed it aside and headed for the backyard.
Asfi moved to pick up the envelope, but Syr grabbed it first. She read it and glared: "What are you doing? She just recovered from that state!"
Asfi pushed up her glasses coldly: "That's not how a 'street girl' should look at me."
Tears welled in Syr's eyes as two catgirls Chloe and Anya charged over: "Don't bully Seele, meow! Even Hermes Familia can't do that!"
"I didn't do anything, I'm just keeping my word to Ryu."
"Kora! What are you all doing? Customers are complaining!" Mia's mother roared from the kitchen. "Deliver the food!"
"Hi, meow!"
"And you if you're not eating, get out!"
Sensing the killing intent, Asfi slipped out of the tavern, grumbling: "Damn god, why do I have to do this?"
"Oh my, Asifi-chan! I've been looking for you!"
Hermes waved from a small shop's second floor. Asfi stamped her foot: "Did you really have to do this?"
"Isn't it interesting? Unexpected encounters are how hero tales begin!"
"Your sense of humor is twisted." Asfi pouted. "If you're so interested, be the villain yourself, I won't help with your pranks again!"
Hermes grinned mischievously: "But I wanted to see your face right now~"
The Caravan to Orario
A sandboat glided across yellow dunes, flanked by magical beasts clearing sand worms from the path. Beside it, Shaka ran tirelessly, starlight shimmering under his feet to restore magic. After four days with the Phoenix Merchant Guild crossing a kingdom and desert they were finally nearing Orario.
Old Maize stepped off the carriage, clapping Shaka on the shoulder: "We owe you everything, Commander Shaka! Without you, those sand worms would have devoured us. And your liquor's a hit in this desert country!"
"Thanks to your business sense, Old Maize."
"Not at all, you're the reason we made so much! Once we reach Orario, your share'll be generous!"
Shaka watched the caravan load goods, reviewing what he'd observed: Old Maize seemed decent but didn't know his subordinates well, often calling them by the wrong names and referring to some as "that person." Many members ignored his authority, and he made no effort to stop them.
"Someone's using the guild as a cover. Time to talk to him alone."
They regrouped into horse-drawn carriages. Inside a luxurious coach, Old Maize poured peanuts onto a plate: "Help yourself."
Shaka sat opposite, his gaze serious: "If you want to cooperate further, you need to be honest with me."
Old Mai took a swig of liquor, sighing helplessly: "I won't lie, my guild has problems. Take this as drunken rambling…"
He explained: "I started with some unsavory types you can't run a cross-country guild without muscle. I didn't ask questions, just let them join so I could grow the business. I only transported normal goods; what they did was their business. But now the guild's big, I have trusted people, and I can't get rid of those old members."
Shaka filled a glass with cola and clinked it with Old Maize's bottle. He understood—Old Maize was like a former tycoon who'd relied on violence to build his empire, only to be overtaken by his own underlings. Now he faced two paths: retire and be eliminated, or be forced into leading the very forces he wanted to escape.
"Why tell me this?" Shaka asked. "You said making money was your goal."
Old Maize drained another bottle, his expression complex: "Because you lead the Astraea Familia… I have millions saved enough for a lifetime. I just want those people gone. If anyone can help, it's you."
Shaka didn't promise anything Old Maize's story was only one side of the truth.
As sunset painted the sky golden-red, the convoy trundled along the official road. A cloaked figure with a red mask stood in the middle, shadow stretching long in the dying light. When night swallowed the last rays, she opened her eyes and vanished.
"Who are—AH!!"
Blood splattered across the road.
It was a massacre.