
“What sort of bullshit is that?” Damian speaks angrily as he observes the crystal Sage gave me. “How is this not exploding?”
Even to the eye of a genius, Sage is as impressive as ever.
Also, is the crystal supposed to explode? I carried that thing so close to my body, only a thin cloth separated it from my skin.
“Sage gave me this,” I say.
“You mean the hero? I guess it makes since if it's from that guy.”
The skeletal hands extend into arms, grabbing some metals from the floor. Damian molds them together into the shape of countless threads, his ability to easily mold materials amazes me still, weaving them into a glove. He then embeds the crystal into the glove and hands it to me.
Damian then hangs his legs from a bar down and gestures me to leave, then climbs back to his hammock and starts sleeping.
Wow.
I hand Pinky a lunas coin. “You were right, he still makes me want to punch him.”
“Told ya.” She takes the coin, having won our bet.
As always, Research Group 10 is like that. Pinky doing odds for Damian, and him doing everything whenever he gets out of bed, or a hammock. They are two weirdos, but they sure brings results.
I brought Damian under my wing as I recognized his talents and he recognized mine, hiring him with a decent salary and providing him all his necessities. Even going as far as fulfilling his demand of recruiting the slum's famous painter, Pinky, which he made jokingly.
Joke's on him. The salary she gets is still less than what I should've given her for all the walls she paints. I love it when artists can't put a price on their arts.
If only Damian stopped causing troubles.
I go to the second floor, met with the expected flood of complaints.
An hour later, and I manage to diffuse the fuss.
Damian managed to sneakily transform the resting room into his private sleeping chamber while it was out of commission for a month, no one noticing as he smashed the floor, installed the bars, and inserted a hole right through the floor.
Honestly, I am impressed.
The Laboratory is a space of this guild I devised for maximum creativity, mixing convenience with inconvenience to stir those hearts into creating new things I can sell. Clearly, Damian taking more space messes up the balance and might make things uncomfortable, but he really deserves this bonus.
I give them some solutions I devised as I saw this... “renovation” and make it clear it won't happen again, but I let Damian keep the second floor.
This entire guild is just money for me, but he is a genius inventor and a golden goose. That's why Research Group 10 may receive the least money, but I visit them the most. Add to that how two kids receive the salary worth of ten adults, and the older craftsmen understand how this favoritism goes.
When Pinky shows up, I excuse myself and let her escort me. I ask her about the slums.
“People are scared. They don't know of what, but it's just some ghosts.” She shrugs. “But Damian did say the mana levels in the slum keeps going down.”
“I see.”
Now ain't that bad.
Damian is a Sensor; he can perceive the flow of ambient mana. Although he cannot sense mana signatures of living beings like Detectors, it's incredible in its own right.
If he says so, then it must be true, as well as concerning enough to mention, though he probably doesn't care.
“Lord Percival, can we train again today?” Pinky asks, hope coating her voice.
I've trained this pink haired brat once, and it was more me toying with her, but Pinky took a liking to it, asking me at every opportunity she gets.
I nod, and her face brightens.
“Not here, though. You can decide where.” I gesture her to lead the way, wondering how much this wild ball of talent improved since the last time I saw her.
Pinky takes me to a dark alley in slums.
My skin shivers from goosebumps, and I'm sharpening my senses as I look for shadows to explode from beneath my feet. Ignoring the logic that explains why the Shadow wouldn't expose himself in daytime, I ready myself to execute whatever set of commands to react to the situation optimally.
Once helplessness engraves itself onto my heart, it is hard to unravel it. Its grasp follows me to my dreams and remains a constant presence in the back of my head.
The end of the alley is a cubic space created by faulted architecture as walls leave only a narrow path to enter and leave.
The graffiti Pinky has created come into full view, murals depicting its creator's chaotic, boundless imagination in a single paused moment that almost seems fluid.
I see. She wants to show off.
“Let's begin,” I say before taking another moment to look at her art, knowing that's all she wants from me.
When everything is said and done, Pinky is Damian's... sister? Minion? Both? She could be his girlfriend for all I care, I just need to remember the appropriate distance; the appropriate measure of how much I can exploit her before she bites.
Human relations suck.
As I walk back home, I Compress mana to make a thin thread and use Manipulation to maintain it. Once it inevitably dissolves, I simply try again, fracturing mana into multiple threads and Compressing each, disregarding the strain on my mind.
Unfortunately, the skill refuses to level up. I feel it improving, but there is a long way to go.
I pride myself in my mental strength, built from years of perseverance as the failure of Reinhardt and from operating Motion Matrix extensively. My cognitive ability is far superior to the average person and I can sharpen my senses to the point I can predict one's movement through muscle position. However, now I realize I am still lacking a powerful enough mind. I'm just not sure if what I lack is strength or endurance.
Maybe I will get a passive for that.
Opening the Shop, I search for mind-type passives. With my current budget, there are no eye-catching options. I can't afford a single Terrestrial passive, and the Mundane ones don't amount to match. The only option left is good old training.
Money really is the most important superpower.
I walk home, not expecting anything big to happen.
Perspective: Theodore
I sit down in front of the guest, trying to control my nervousness, donning the same calmness my brother naturally possesses.
The opponent is not easy, piercing my armor as if it was a sheet of paper with her casual gaze.
Princess Adele Vitorion simply sits there, yet I feel her majesty emanating from her in waves, unwavering confidence and an aura of authority that stiffens me.
She drinks tea Katherine haphazardly brew after we desperately woke her up. “Katherine must be getting old.”
“I'm sorry, Your Highness,” I say, feeling the pressure. “She was sleeping and—”
“Not in a bad way, Lord Reinhardt. Miss Katherine gives an even better taste,” her mind falters for a moments, but I think it's intentional, “a better tune.”
Her piercing, pale blue eyes flicker, the same calculative eyes I often saw whenever we met.
It's scary. I have no idea what to think of her, only wait until she decides we finally get to the agenda, and probably by then, I would've no choice but to say yes.
Percival warned me; he said I shouldn't meet with the princess alone, and by no means speak with her. He said she is dangerous, not just her strength but also her wits, but I wasn't convinced. Otherwise, we would've called her Crown Princess instead of just a princess, one along five others.
I ignored him, but maybe he was onto something.
Up until now, Percival has always handled her by himself. Turns out it isn't because they're childhood friends.
“Your Highness, if I may be rude, for what purpose did you come here?” I ask.
“So impatient, Lord Theodore.” The princess shakes her had, her purple hair swaying gently. “Can't you entertain me for a bit more time of the day?”
“Do you wait for my brother?”
“I do not have the luxury of waiting in my schedule, Lord Theodore. No, I came today solely to meet with you, with... an offer.”
An offer just for me? “Then let's here it.”
She leans closer, a mixture of beauty and authority naturally oozing out, making my head spin and my heart thump. “I am assembling a team of elite warriors to join me on an expedition, and I want you to join me.”
Remembering my succession lessons, I suppress my curiosity and take a moment to understand the implications of the suggestion. Then, I proceed to ask for more details, bringing the puzzle together.
I ask all the appropriate questions I can think of, avoiding prying more deeply as to not show my interest, which intensifies with her every word.
In the end, I nod, having some of the answers I wanted. “I will think about it.”
Having expected my vague answer, Princess Adele claps her hands while smiling as she turns to leave. Her eyes staring at me from below even as we are of the same height.
“I will see you at the break of dawn in two days,” she says, as if the matter is already settled.
Damn, she is right.
“Wait!” I call, failing to resist the temptation of the final question I had in mind. “My brother is stronger than me, more skilled than me. Why don't you take him?”
I expect her to answer, but the princess ignores me as if I was a peasant on the street. She disrespects me despite my high standing. It must be because I am still not the heir, so she thinks we are not at the same level.
Well, Percival is stronger, but only for now. Once I surpass him and win over in a duel, he will step down and I'll be the new heir.
Father's opinion is still split between his eldest son and the more talented child, his decision could fall on either of us. If we settle this among ourselves, he would go with the winner.
And I know Percival doesn't want this either. Otherwise, he'd have challenged me with my surrender as the wager.
I want it more, and I am more talented.
The heir position will be mine.