The silence that followed Julian's collapse was heavier than the mana-void he'd just created. Lyra knelt in the center of the pulverized cobblestones, her white-gold hair draped over Julian's blood-stained velvet coat. For the first time in decades, the "Ice Witch" wasn't cold; she was burning with a frantic, disorganized heat.
"System! Restore him!" she hissed, her voice cracking. "You're his 'Investment,' aren't you? Fix your master!"
[System Notification: Host is unconscious. Management permissions temporarily transferred to Primary Asset: Lyra.]
[Warning: Integrity of the 'Architect' is at 0.8%. Structural collapse of the ribcage in progress.]
[Recommended Action: High-Calorie Mana Infusion (Earth-Origin Cooking) or Immediate Medical Stabilization.]
"Cooking?" Lyra stared at the notification with pure venom. "He's dying, and you want me to stir a pot?"
She looked down at Julian. His face was ghostly pale, save for the crimson trail leaking from his lips. Even in a coma, his hand was still clamped tight around his cane—the tool he'd used to delete a Marquis's elite guards as if they were clerical errors.
"You arrogant, suicidal merchant," she whispered.
She didn't wait for the Royal Guard. Gathering Julian's frail frame into her arms, she ignored the weight of the enchanted boxes. With a single, sharp intake of breath, she tapped into her forbidden reserves. She didn't care about the "Silence Tax" anymore. If Valerya or the Hero Association wanted a fight, she would give them a blizzard that would bury the capital.
SHING.
A localized frost flared, and in a blur of silver light, the street was empty.
Julian's eyes snapped open to the smell of burning garlic and something sweet—like caramelized sugar.
"Ugh... did I... did I die?" Julian groaned, his voice sounding like sandpaper. "Is Heaven just a giant kitchen? Because that's a terrible ROI for a life of sin."
"You're awake," a sharp, familiar voice snapped.
Julian squinted. He wasn't in Heaven. He was in a dusty, dimly lit warehouse filled with crates of "recovered" monster parts. Sitting by a small portable stove was Lyra. She was still wearing the 6,000-gold Moon-Spun dress, but the sleeves were rolled up, and she was aggressively whisking a bowl of thick, golden broth.
[System Notification: Lifetime: 160 Days -> 159 Days (1 Day lost due to 'Aggressive Recovery')]
[Health Status: Stable (Stitched together by sheer spite and high-quality soup)]
"I had to use your 'Ancient Earth' notes," Lyra said, not looking at him. Her ears were slightly red. "The System said your 'Sales Executive' body needed a specific caloric intake to re-solidify your spine. It's... a stew. From your memories."
Julian sat up with a wince, his back popping like a string of firecrackers. He looked at the bowl she handed him. It was a perfect recreation of a beef bone broth—clear, rich, and smelling of home.
"You cooked?" Julian asked, his 'lit' stare returning as he took a sip. The flavor exploded on his tongue, sending a wave of warmth through his frayed mana-veins. "Lyra, do you realize what you've done? This isn't just soup. This is an S-Rank buff. If we marketed this to the frontline guilds, we could clear the debt in a weekend."
"Eat the soup, Julian," she threatened, her purple eyes flickering. "Or I'll freeze the bowl to your face."
"Right. Eating. Investing in my health. Understood."
As he ate, a heavy thud echoed against the warehouse doors. A familiar, nervous mana signature scratched at the wood.
"Boss? You in there? It's Bell!" a muffled voice shouted. "I saw the dust cloud in the Promenade! The Royal Guard is losing their minds! They're saying a 'Ghost' erased three of D'Vayne's men! Also, I found a bag of gold someone dropped while running away—don't ask me whose it is!"
Julian smirked, wiping blood and broth from his lip.
"The first companion arrives," Julian whispered. "Lyra, get ready. We're about to move from 'Retail' to 'Recruitment'."
[New Quest Triggered: The Coward's Contract] [Objective: Sign the Mercenary 'Bell' to the Agency.]
[Reward: Access to 'Grey Market' Trading & 10 Days of Lifespan.]