The shop closed with a soft chime.
Eryx didn't lock the door immediately. He stood there for a second, hand still on the handle, listening to the way Crescent Ward breathed after dusk. Foot traffic thinning. Mana-lamps humming as they brightened to compensate for the dying sun. Somewhere down the street, a Beast let out a low call—territorial, but lazy. The city was settling into its night rhythm.
Behind him, the Ghastling floated patiently.
She hovered a little higher than usual, ribbons swaying like loose streamers caught in a gentle current. She'd grown again—Eryx could tell. Not by weight, not by size exactly, but by presence. There was more… there there. More substance behind the way her core pulsed faintly when she was content.
"You hungry?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
The Ghastling made a soft, airy noise. Something between a giggle and a squid's chirr. Definitely yes.
Eryx smiled, pulled the door shut, and turned the sign to CLOSED.
---
The designated Beast-and-Human restaurant sat a few blocks away, nestled between a mana-tailor and a high-end fusion outfitter. The building itself was wide and low, deliberately unassuming—no glass towers, no glowing signage screaming prestige. The people who ate here didn't need reminders of their status.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Warm lighting. Thick sound-dampening panels disguised as art. Subtle mana fields that smoothed aggressive auras and soothed predatory instincts. It was a place where Beasts could relax without dulling their edges—and where Humans didn't need to keep one hand near a contract seal at all times.
Eryx checked in, paid without hesitation, and requested a Luxury Lounge, one-time pass.
Privacy mattered tonight.
As they were guided through a corridor that curved gently away from the main hall, Eryx ran the numbers in his head out of habit. The shop had done better than he'd expected.
Pawned materials, processed fragments, raw drops he didn't feel like refining himself. Add in actual Credits from walk-ins and repeat customers…
"Fifty-eight thousand," he murmured.
The Ghastling bobbed, ribbons curling in vague interest.
"Yeah. That's… comfortable." Not rich. Not untouchable. But stable. The kind of stability that let you breathe without counting every meal.
He didn't regret giving Amanda the Emeralds for free. Not even a little.
Emeralds were absurdly common in Minecraft. Villagers treated them like pocket change, endlessly willing to trade them away for things Eryx could farm half-asleep. In this world, though? Refined Emerald Fragments were expensive, regulated, and mysteriously effective.
Different worlds. Different values.
The laws adjusted.
The lounge door slid open silently.
The room was spacious but understated. One wide table designed to accommodate large Beasts without crowding. Reinforced flooring. Independent ventilation. A private server station tucked discreetly near the wall.
Eryx took a seat, and the Ghastling drifted down beside him, hovering just above the cushion prepared for non-grounded Beasts. She rotated slowly, examining the room, then settled—ribbons folding in like relaxed limbs.
They waited.
It wasn't long before the door opened again.
Another VIP entered.
She didn't look at Eryx.
Didn't spare him even a flicker of acknowledgment.
Her gaze locked onto the Ghastling the moment she crossed the threshold.
Sharp. Evaluating. Not greedy—curious.
Eryx noticed, of course. You didn't grow up in Crescent Ward without learning the difference between predatory attention and professional interest. This was the latter, honed and disciplined.
Behind her walked a Beast that made the room feel suddenly smaller.
A Mantis.
Human-sized.
Its body was sleek, segmented, and dark—metallic in a way that wasn't quite metal. The blades of its forelimbs gleamed like polished iron, edges impossibly thin. Its movements were precise, economical, controlled to the point of artistry.
An Iron Scythe Mantis.
Eryx recognized it instantly.
He'd seen diagrams. Case studies. Controlled footage during one of his elective courses back in high school—long before Cubic Creatures, back when he'd been learning inventory management and supply chains instead of Beast ecology.
So someone actually contracted one, he thought, impressed despite himself.
The woman gestured, and the Mantis moved away without a sound, positioning itself at the far end of the lounge. It lowered its body slightly, posture signaling restraint rather than submission. When food arrived later, it would eat apart from Humans—polite, in its own way.
The woman sat opposite Eryx, still watching the Ghastling with quiet intensity.
No hostility. No threat.
Just… interest.
A server arrived then, professional and calm, eyes flicking briefly to catalog both Beasts before settling into routine.
Orders were taken.
The woman requested a roasted steak—simple, high quality, cooked precisely. No extravagance.
The Mantis was served separately: a prepared mass of nutrient-dense material with the unmistakable scent of fresh brain matter. It accepted the meal, turning away slightly, mandibles working with disturbing efficiency.
Eryx ordered golden chicken wings, crisped to perfection, and for the Ghastling—a roasted ocean fish.
When the dishes arrived, the contrast became immediately apparent.
Eryx dug in with clear enjoyment, wings disappearing one by one. The woman ate neatly, methodically, attention drifting between her food and the Ghastling.
The Ghastling, meanwhile, stared at her fish.
Unimpressed.
She rotated once. Twice. Let out a tiny, offended-sounding puff of air.
"Oh, don't start," Eryx said quietly, reaching into his pocket.
He produced a small vial.
Emerald Dust shimmered inside—fine, luminous particles that caught the light even in shadow.
He sprinkled it lightly over the fish.
Instantly, the Ghastling perked up.
She leaned in, ribbons fluttering, and then—only after Eryx nudged her gently—began to eat. Even then, she did so with exaggerated disdain, as if making it very clear she was only tolerating the meal because of the dust.
Eryx chuckled and reached out, tickling her side lightly as she ate.
She giggled.
The sound was… odd. Like a child laughing through water. Bright and airy, layered with a squid's warble. It echoed softly in the lounge, harmless but unmistakably alive.
The woman paused mid-bite.
"…Excuse me," she said, voice smooth but curious, "for my rudeness—but is that healthy?"
Eryx looked up, surprised, then smiled easily.
"Oh, of course. In fact, it helps this little piggy grow faster."
He gave the Ghastling another gentle tickle. She squirmed happily, then resumed eating with renewed enthusiasm.
The woman studied the Emerald Dust now, eyes narrowing just slightly.
"Does it," she asked carefully, "work for every Beast?"
Eryx didn't hesitate.
"Of course. I'm sure if ingested by your Iron Scythe Mantis, it would help it grow faster too, Miss…?"
"Jeanne," she said after a beat. "Just Jeanne."
Eryx blinked, then smiled wider.
"No can do," he replied cheerfully. "I have to call a lady formally—especially a willing customer."
A hint of amusement flickered across Jeanne's face.
Eryx produced a small bag and passed it across the table.
Jeanne hesitated only a moment before taking it. She stood, approached the Mantis, and sprinkled the dust lightly over what remained of its meal.
The reaction was subtle—but undeniable.
The Mantis froze.
Mandibles paused mid-motion.
Then it resumed eating.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
Much faster.
Its posture shifted, movements growing almost… eager. Not frantic, but focused. Like something had clicked into place, and it wanted more.
Jeanne watched closely, breath held.
Faint energy shimmered along the Mantis's carapace—barely visible, but there.
Her eyes widened.
When she returned to the table, there was no hiding her surprise.
"…May I buy some?" she asked.
Eryx leaned back, pleased.
"Of course, Miss Jeanne. Just come down to my Pet Beast Shop—Cubic Creatures."
She laughed softly. "Hoho… alright."
They returned to their meals, conversation easing into comfortable quiet.
The Ghastling finished her fish, hovered closer to Eryx, and hummed contentedly.
Outside, Crescent Ward continued its nightly hum.
And something small—but significant—had just begun to shift.