Chapter 110: The Commission
Inside "Succubus Dreams."
Kula lay flat on her back on the floorboards, stomach facing the ceiling, rhythmically and pathetically patting her midsection.
"Chairwoman... I think I'm dying of hunger again."
"You finished three meat pies and half a roasted chicken less than an hour ago," Scarlett replied, her chin resting heavily on her arms atop the counter.
She didn't even have the energy to lift her head. The electric thrill of opening their own shop had been thoroughly ground into dust by the sheer weight of the workload. Last night, the five of them had worked through the dawn, weaving customized fantasies for seventeen different clients.
"This is unsustainable," Scarlett muttered, her eyes tracking the thick stack of new order forms on the counter. She forced herself to sit upright, the movement making her head swim with dizziness. "We are critically understaffed! We must expand our operations!"
On the sofa, Mona rolled over and buried her face into a cushion, her voice muffled and distant. "Where are we supposed to find help? It's not like we know any other succubi..."
"Actually, we know one," Eris, who had been silent until now, remarked.
Four pairs of eyes snapped toward her.
"Danica," Eris said, the name hanging in the air. "The girl who was taken in by that human priest in the town of Orlando."
Kula's eyes ignited instantly. She performed a perfect carp-leap from the floor to a sitting position. "The Danica who knows how to cook?!"
"Exactly!" Scarlett slammed her palm onto the counter, her spirit returning in a flash. "Think about it! Danica must be living in constant terror! A succubus living in a chapel in the middle of the Theocracy? It's like a sheep sleeping in a wolf's den!"
"We're going to rescue our sister!" Scarlett declared.
"And she can cook for us!" Kula added with frantic excitement.
"Yes! And she can cook for us!" Scarlett nodded vigorously, before her expression sobered. "However... venturing into the Theocracy is a suicide mission. The moment we leave the borders of the Evernight Empire, the way those humans look at us changes. We'd be back in shackles before we hit the first checkpoint."
The room fell into a heavy silence. The memory of being sold as "merchandise" was still a raw wound for all of them.
"We need an escort," Scarlett decided.
"Mercenaries?" Chloe whispered tentatively.
"No," Eris cut her off immediately. "Human mercenaries are untrustworthy. Who's to say they won't have a change of heart halfway and sell us back into slavery? We cannot risk it."
"Then who is left?"
"The Shadow Guard."
One of the Seven Legions of the Evernight Empire, the Shadow Guard answered directly to General Sloth. They were a unit of undead specializing in assassination, infiltration, and high-level stealth. More importantly, they were the only official military unit within the Empire authorized to accept external contracts.
But they had one universally recognized drawback: they were extortionately expensive.
Shadow Guard Headquarters.
Scarlett took a deep breath and knocked on the heavy, obsidian-colored door. It slid open soundlessly, revealing an interior of absolute, lightless void.
"Business?" a voice drifted from the dark, devoid of any discernible emotion.
"We... we wish to post a high-priority escort commission," Scarlett said, summoning every scrap of her courage.
"Enter."
The five succubi shared a hesitant glance before filing into the darkness one by one. The door clicked shut behind them with an ominous finality. A single magical lamp flickered to life, illuminating a stone desk and a skeleton sitting behind it.
"Objective. Destination. Remuneration," the skeletal clerk said, not even looking up from his ledger.
"Escort us to the town of Orlando in the Holy Empire of Gusteko, ensure our safety during a retrieval mission, and escort us back to Iron Fortress," Scarlett said, trying to keep her voice steady. "The reward... two gold crowns!"
This was their entire operational budget. Every copper they had earned since opening.
The skeleton's quill paused mid-stroke. "Risk Assessment: High. Requires cross-border operations within a territory actively hostile toward necrotic and demi-human entities."
The skeleton lifted its head, its hollow gaze fixing on them. "Standard escort parameters for this route require a Tier 3 Skeleton Assassin. The commission for a one-way trip is two gold crowns. Round trip: four gold crowns."
Scarlett's heart hit the floor. "We... we only have two."
"Then the request shall be posted to the internal Soul Link as a 'Discounted Contract.' We shall see if any unit is willing to accept a sub-standard reward."
The skeleton lowered its head, scrawling the requirements onto a parchment. "Request posted. You may wait, or you may leave."
With that, the clerk ignored them entirely, returning to his paperwork as if they had simply ceased to exist. The succubi stood in an awkward huddle. Almost no one in Iron Fortress hired the Shadow Guard—they were too expensive, and the Empire was too safe. Usually, these "budget" requests sat in the link until the poster gave up in despair.
At that exact moment...
Skele-Sloth, Tier 5 Shadow Demon and one of the Seven Great Generals, was currently lying in a state of total, undignified collapse on the floor of his private quarters.
He was destitute.
Every single coin he owned had been fed into Hans's "Call of Evernight" lottery stall in the plaza. He had pulled the statue of Gluttony. He had pulled the statue of Pride. He had even pulled his own "Lazy-Style" limited edition statue.
But the Sovereign's statue—the likeness of Master Kaito—refused to drop.
Sloth was beyond frustrated. He had begun to suspect that the "human merchant" Hans hadn't even put the Master's sigil in the box. He wanted to keep pulling until he proved it, but his pockets were empty.
Just then, a notification flickered within his Soul Link.
[Discounted Contract: Escort Mission]
[Destination: Orlando, Holy Empire of Gusteko]
[Reward: 2 Gold Crowns]
Sloth's consciousness swept over the details. His first instinct was to close the notification and go back to staring at the ceiling.
Two gold crowns...
One gold crown was one hundred silver. One silver was one hundred copper. One pull at the stall cost ten copper.
One gold was ten thousand copper. Two gold... was twenty thousand copper.
That's... two thousand pulls.
Two thousand more chances. Surely... the Sovereign has to drop in two thousand pulls, right? What if I'm only two thousand pulls away from the jackpot?
Once the thought took root, it became an irresistible obsession. A quick trip to the Theocracy in exchange for two thousand more tickets to Gacha Hell.
This trade... actually... isn't bad.
Sloth shifted into an even more decadent, slouched position and let out a long, rattling sigh of defeat.
[CONTRACT ACCEPTED]
☆☆☆
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