"Perhaps you would like to join one of our VIP tables for a card game?"

I had exited the VVIP room with Saga Duex and was being urged on by the smiling concierge to waste my coin on some card games.

Saga had explained that preparing the map would take some time. Adjustments were needed, not just to the logic of the coins themselves, but to how their movements would be displayed, simplified enough for me to comprehend. She had also laid out several conditions for what would be shown. For instance, she refused to reveal the movements of any enemies within the current borders of the Kobar Empire, arguing that it would tilt the balance too heavily in my favor. While a bit of a loss, that was ultimately fine; my real concern lay beyond Kobar's borders.

As for the shadow leader orchestrating the Kobar Invasion, Saga had simply shrugged.

"Even I don't know where they are at any given time," she had said.

I tilted my head back, gazing toward the elevated VIP section, where the tables sat under glittering light stone fixtures.

"A princess from the Trakecia Kingdom and the high priest to the youngest Daylan prince are playing a high-stakes match," the greedy concierge continued her suggestion.

It was a complete waste of time—and I had a rapid-fire schedule to keep.

Still, I allowed myself a moment to watch the unfolding chaos. The high priest—evidently one of Chase's church—grabbed a glass of wine from a passing attendant. Drunk, he promptly fumbled it, splashing deep red wine across his shimmering gold robes and the card table.

I smirked.

Maybe one of these Rounds, it wouldn't hurt to go off-script. Spend some time with these individuals. Perhaps I'll learn something unexpected.

[ Random Character Checker in Progress for Quince. ]

I blinked as a familiar blue screen flickered to life above the gray-haired attendant who had been carrying the wine. His peppered hair was immaculately parted just off-center, and he moved with the type of deliberate poise that suggested that he had been immaculately trained.

[ Quince is a skilled Assassin. He is retired and only takes on assassination assignments ad hoc for fun. ]

For fun?

I nearly laughed aloud.

The longer I live, the more psychos I uncover.

"Ah, I apologize, Your Holiness!" Quince said smoothly, barely missing a beat. "I'll fetch a mage to clean you up immediately."

He gestured, and a white-haired boy was ushered toward the VIP section. I recognized him as the same mage who had helped deliver winnings to Frey Manor.

"Princess, I'll have a new glass of wine prepared for you," he added, turning to the young blonde woman.

My eyes flicked back to the spilled wine on the velvet carpeting, thoughtful.

It was intended for the princess. What if…?

[ Poison Identifier in effect. ]

[ The wine is not poisoned. ]

I raised a brow.

Really? Well, that's almost disappointing.

As if sensing my disappointment, the System chimed in further.

[ However, one could argue that wine and other forms of alcohol are poison. As you should know better than most. ]

[ They are simply slow to kill. Or fast if consumed in sufficient quantity. ]

I rolled my eyes at the System's additional commentary.

[[ I'm glad to see you haven't lost your ridiculous sense of humor. ]]

I replied using Illusion Magic, producing the illusion into my own eyes, which only I and the System could see.

[ I am a System. I do not do humor. ]

I smiled, turned on my heels, and walked toward the Casino's entrance.

With the level of access I adjusted the System to, I hadn't heard it as frequently as with my original settings. It was a bit of a shame. I missed it, in a way. It wasn't human, but its presence had been one of the few constants threading through each of my loops. I'd even grown strangely fond of its little jabs.

"Not today," I said aloud, answering the concierge's original invitation. "I presume a carriage is ready?"

"Yes, young master Luca—we received your directive," the concierge replied.

I nodded.

In the previous Round, waiting for a carriage had been a tedious lag in my schedule. But that bottleneck was now taken care of.

And with the extra time, I planned to hatch Leona. If I intended to stay true to the agreement with Apophis, I would need Leona's help on today's rescue mission.

I stepped into the glimmering gold-and-blue carriage and settled in. It rolled forward with a gentle sway as it wound through the cobblestone streets of West Genise. Stately facades and flowering balconies passed by my window in a blur of color and light.

However, the view shifted as the carriage turned onto the main road that split East and West Genise. A harsher, grayer view appeared.

The carriage slowed, yielding to a crowd of pedestrians. My gaze drifted, landing on a middle-aged man stumbling across the street.

It wasn't even noon, but he was already drunk.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The same could be said for those gambling away in the Gilded Siren.

However, as he was wearing a two-day-old, stained shirt and walking down the street alone, his drunkenness garnered dirty looks from passersby. One garishly dressed man even bumped into his shoulder on purpose.

"Watch where you're going!" the man barked, though it was he who was at fault.

"Ah—sorry, sorry…" the drunkard mumbled, bowing his disheveled head.

"Sorry?" The man scoffed, grabbing the front of the drunkard's grey shirt. "This is a limited edition, you know—"

Two more thugs, likely part of his entourage, closed in.

"It's smudged. Doubt it'll ever come out," one sneered.

"If you're really sorry, you'll pay up," the other jabbed the drunkard in the chest with his index finger.

The carriage jolted forward, and the scene slipped out of view.

Such a contrast.

I compared the situation to the drunk high priest at the Gilded Siren, slobbering wine all over himself and the table but still fawned over like royalty... while here, a penniless man was treated like vermin for the same offense.

"What a difference money makes," I murmured.

I frowned.

How did the System know I used to be a drunkard?

My gaze met my reflection in the window. I appeared clean, young, and put-together. Hardly the wreck I once was.

Sure, I'd been wasted at the bar when Grandov first found me, back when he was still the sole Player in the Game. But being drunk once wasn't enough to warrant the System's sly comment. Besides, ever since the day Grandov approached me to join The Order, I'd stayed completely clean. Not even a single drop since. It was too dangerous.

The carriage rolled inside the Frey Manor walls and stopped in the courtyard.

I exhaled slowly.

Grandov had approached me only in Round 67, but odds were, he—and, by extension, the System—had seen me in worse states long before that. Or from the view of other Players even in the thousands of play-throughs that the System witnessed.

And the System really thought, after seeing all that, that I was key to winning this thing?

I chuckled to myself.

"Young master Luca," Remlend greeted as I stepped down from the carriage. "Welcome home."

I tipped the Gilded Siren carriage driver a coin and walked toward the Frey Manor. Remlend was quick to follow.

"I assume Henry's returned already?" I asked.

"Indeed, he has," Remlend replied. "He is currently in young master Micah's office."

"Good." I nodded.

"Please have enough tea and lunch for five people to send over to Micah's office in about half an hour," I instructed.

While I'd had a late breakfast, it was wiser for everyone to eat properly before we set out to rescue Fin and the other children.

As I neared Micah's study, the door opened, and Henry stepped out.

"Young master Luca, you've returned." Henry addressed me. He appeared slightly anxious.

"Kleave won against The Ogre," I said, understanding the reason for the tension.

Henry looked visibly relieved. "Ah, that's great to hear."

"Where's the egg? And the Stealthy Pull Tab from Orla Rex?" I asked.

Henry produced the shabby necklace from his pocket and handed it over. "The artifact, as requested. The egg is inside."

He motioned toward the door he had just come out of.

I nodded.

"Good, you may go," I told him and entered Micah's study.

Inside, my brother, Ridley, Julius, and Fluer, were discussing the plans to break out the children from the shoddy orphanage and take care of The Alchemist's creations.

"Luca, you're back," Micah greeted me with a smile. "We just started going over the plans."

He gestured towards Julius and Ridley, making the formal introductions despite knowing I was already familiar with them. It was more for their benefit than mine.

"It's good to meet you all," I said with a polite nod.

My eyes landed on the glass-enclosed box with the egg inside on one of the shelves in Micah's office.

"Micah, I need to tend to something first," I said, stepping over and gently lifting the box into my hands. "I ordered Remlend to bring tea and lunch in about thirty minutes. I'll return before then."

"Very well," Micah replied.

"Until then," I nodded toward everyone and slipped out into the hall.

I glanced down at the glass box cradled in my arms, the egg resting safely inside.

I just hope her mind had healed enough that she wouldn't accidentally set everything ablaze again.

Her meditative practice ended prematurely, after all, and thus, I suspected her mental state was far from fully repaired.

But for the mission to truly succeed, I needed Leona.

***

"Elda, are you in there?" I called out, knocking on her workshop's black mana stone heavy steel door. The cold metal thrummed faintly under my hand.

"I'm not, but I intend to be." Elda's bright voice sounded behind me.

I turned to find my younger sister striding toward me. Her curly bundle of red hair was tied back into a haphazard ponytail. She wore a soot-smeared leather apron over her clothes, a sure sign she was planning one of her more... combustible experiments.

Elda's green eyes flicked toward the box in my hands.

"What is that egg?" Elda asked, raising a brow. "And why is it sealed up like some royal jewel?"

"Ah, it's a special egg," I said, adjusting the weight of the crystal case against my chest. "I was hoping to borrow your workshop to... cook it."

The corners of Elda's mouth twitched. "You need my workshop to boil an egg?"

I nodded.

"Gina will kill me if I try cooking it in her kitchen," I added.

Elda blinked her green eyes and burst into laughter. "I'll bet! You've never cooked anything in your life."

She waved a gloved hand dismissively. "Sure, you can use the workshop. But be quick—boiling an egg should take what, ten minutes? Three if you scramble it. Want help?"

I shook my head. "No. I can do it myself."

Elda shrugged, grinning. "Suit yourself. But first, here are a few rules about using my workshop."

She swung the heavy door open with a creak, and I followed her inside. The workshop smelled sharply of metal, burnt oil, and smoke—lots of smoke. Jars of colorful liquids and powders lined the walls, vials filled with unknown substances sat on a table, and a rack of mana-infused tools gleamed under the light stones overhead.

As she walked me through, Elda pointed out the dangerous bits—the unstable condenser, the flask of red liquid that "sometimes blew up for no reason," and the shelf labeled simply with a skull-and-crossbones symbol.

I nodded along, having toured her workshop before but still attentive as it was a haphazard space that could prematurely force a restart.

As she completed the tour, I made a mental note to myself to suggest she partner with Leo regarding the festival fireworks—but that would wait until tomorrow, as he and his mother had yet to arrive.

Satisfied, Elda gave a thumbs up. "Enjoy. I'll be back in half an hour. Don't blow up anything I'd miss." She slipped out the door and closed it with a heavy thud behind her.

Having the workshop all to myself, I got to work.

I took Leona's egg from its crystal box and placed it inside a sturdy black mana stone-enforced iron pot filled with water. I dropped an activated heating mana stone into the pot beside it, its runes flaring to life, and covered everything with a thick black mana-reinforced lid.

Still, I wasn't taking chances. I stepped away from the pot and crouched behind another black mana stone lid, bracing myself.

A muffled bang rattled the pot. Steam hissed furiously from under the lid, white clouds billowing out and filling the air. I watched warily as the pot trembled, but the lid stayed on this time.

When the hissing finally died down, and the only sound was the crackling pop of the egg beginning to hatch, I approached cautiously.

Peeling the lid back, hot air rushed out, brushing my face with damp heat. Inside, the egg rested against the heating stone, glowing fiercely. Gray cracks splintered outward like lightning until the top of the egg finally crumbled away.

A small, familiar, golden-feathered head poked out. Leona blinked at me with huge golden eyes, her tiny beak opening in a soft chirp.

I crouched lower, grinning.

"Welcome back, Leona. Ready for another Round?" I asked gently. "We've got some kids to save in a couple of hours."

Leona blinked again, then tilted her head.

"What about food?" she asked aloud. "I've been surviving on berries while stuck with those monks. And whatever scraps I had left in my reserves."

I laughed. Even after everything, some things about her hadn't changed—and for that, I was grateful.

"Of course," I promised. "First lunch. And after that, a proper feast at the royal ball for dinner."

Leona chirped in delight and flew up, landing on my right shoulder. Her familiar warmth spread over my shoulder.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the pull-tab necklace and held it up to her.

"I got this for you again," I said, looping it carefully around her neck. "Try not to burn it to ashes this time, please?"

"I'll try," Leona chirped, sounding mischievous enough that I wasn't entirely reassured.

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