The Morning After the Faded Treasure
The next morning in the Zone 17 Bunker control room. Spam sizzled on the induction cooktop. Three pans. Three packs of instant rice. Six eggs. Labor costs had doubled. I gritted my teeth as I cracked the eggs.
It was only natural to feed my employees now that I'd hired them. Natural, sure. But converting three meals a day for two people into SP would punch a hole in my bunker upgrade budget that I couldn't ignore.
I slammed three plates down on the camping table with a series of thwacks. "Breakfast."
Ayla snatched her chopsticks faster than a flashbang. "The spam looks kinda thin today?"
"Family's grown, so portions shrink. Basic capitalism."
"Tch. Employee welfare's going downhill!" She grumbled but didn't stop shoveling food into her mouth.
Across the table, Lenia Bright had already polished off her plate. Had she inhaled it the second she sat down? Not a single grain of rice left. Even setting down her chopsticks was silent.
"Thank you for the meal."
She reported plainly and straightened her posture. Her back was ramrod straight. Even in a camping chair, she looked like a soldier. Eating speed's an asset too. I took a sip of black coffee and opened my mouth.
"Lenia. First mission today."
Her gaze locked onto me.
"Surface recon. I notified Viscount Vail last night via drone with the rendezvous time and place. Scout Imperial Palace vicinity for activity, receive intel from the viscount. I'll give real-time route directions via earpiece."
"Understood."
Lenia rose from her chair. In that instant, the problem I'd been studiously ignoring tore through the control room air and spread everywhere.
"Gahhh!!"
Ayla pinched her nose shut like she was about to spew her fried rice, screaming. "This smell!! I've been holding it in since earlier, but you standing up just doubled it!! Sewage sludge mixed with monster blood, fermented into a toxic gas that kills living things!!"
It wasn't exaggeration. When Lenia stood, the stench soaked into her armor wafted through the vents, filling the entire control room. Well-bottom sewage, rat hound fluids, two days of sweat and blood—a historic biochemical weapon.
I subtly wrinkled my nose too. I'd known since she arrived, but I'd been pretending not to notice to save on cleaning supplies.
"Boss! If you send her up smelling like this, they'll peg her as sewer trash from three blocks away! They'll backtrack to the bunker!"
"...You've got a point."
Spot-on warning. That reek in noble territory? Disguise wouldn't last a minute. I clicked my tongue and opened the system shop.
A bright blue plastic jug, rough scrub brush, and vacuum-sealed commoner tunic set dropped from thin air.
"Lenia. Wash up. Skin might sting a bit, but it'll kill the smell."
"Understood."
Lenia took the detergent and silently headed to the wash area. The bunker's wash zone wasn't luxurious. Rusty pipes heating underground water via boiler tubes—a crude hot water setup. Cement floor. Single white LED light. But the water was warm.
Lenia turned the faucet, and lukewarm water poured out. Harsh industrial detergent trickled through her hair. Two days of caked sewage and blood washed away, black water swirling down the drain.
It was warm. Lenia's eyes closed for 10 seconds. That was it. Ten seconds. But in that fleeting moment, tension eased from her shoulders, her clenched jaw slackened just a fraction. A reflex from a body that hadn't felt warmth in two days of poison-soaked collapse at the well bottom, yielding to the primal comfort of hot water.
Ayla, leaning at the wash area entrance sipping cola, saw those 10 seconds. She said nothing. One second. Two. Then she looked away and murmured quietly.
"...I was like that at first too."
Whether it reached Lenia's ears, who knows. The water drowned everything.
Ten minutes later, freshly washed Lenia returned to the control room in commoner clothes. Brown cotton tunic, black pants. Her black hair tied back. Without the armor, her frame seemed smaller than expected.
"Huh? Looks pretty good."
Ayla scanned her up and down, impressed. I gave her a once-over too. Face was fine. The problem was...
"Walk."
Lenia walked. Her stride was precisely 65 centimeters. Arm swing minimized and restrained, gaze fixed 15 degrees downward. Heel strikes uniform with a metallic clack. Perfect knight march.
"...You'll get pegged as a disguised knight or spy in noble streets in one minute flat."
Ayla slapped her forehead.
"Lenia. Mess up your gait a bit. Like a commoner."
Lenia hesitated. Then walked again. Stride shortened to 64 centimeters. One centimeter less, everything else identical.
"I have no training in non-combat disguise."
I picked up a loose pebble from the floor and tossed it to her.
"Put it in your right shoe."
"...?"
"You're a day laborer with a limp starting today. Stabbed sole'll force your stride to break, shoulders to twist."
Lenia wordlessly slipped the pebble into her shoe and walked again. Sharp stone piercing her sole reflexively shifted her weight left, shattering her perfect balance.
"Much better."
I handed her a small radio earpiece tuned to the comm frequency.
"My voice is your brain now. I judge, you execute. Move out."
"Understood."
Lenia limped toward the vent shaft. I turned to Ayla.
"You monitor reception here. Analyze any Kasian intel the second it comes in."
"Got it, boss. So when's sausage veggie stir-fry?"
"No off-salary perks during work hours, Employee #1."
Same time. Imperial Palace, Kasian's office.
Morning sunlight filtered through stained glass, scattering colorful shards across the office floor. In the center sat a red velvet envelope, clashing horribly with the elegant light.
Kasian broke the seal.
After a 7-day cooling period following Your Highness's banquet, mana reaction measurements were conducted. The mana stone's reaction has been confirmed as zero (0). Even post-cooling, the core body cannot be verified. Awaiting further instructions.
Crumple. Thick parchment crumpled miserably in Kasian's grip. The perfectly ironed cuff of his sleeve trembled faintly.
Mana reaction zero. Core unconfirmed.
He crossed the east palace corridor to the underground vault, even shaking off his escort knights. His steps lost control, quickening.
The vault's massive door opened. Central pedestal. Crystal treasure case on a golden base. The lightless gem.
'Did I... overdraw the energy beyond limits?'
Kasian ground his teeth. True, he'd tripled the budget for Seria's proposal, mobilizing the national treasure. But this mana stone recovered mana gradually after discharge. That was why it was a treasure.
Slowly, but steadily. Always. Yet now, no return.
Domino scenarios crashed through his mind. Treasure damaged. Embezzlement charges. Deposition.
But Kasian wasn't one to panic and crumble. As terror rose to his throat, his ruthless political survival instinct activated Plan B.
"Shadow."
A black-masked assassin knelt silently from thin air.
"Isolate the treasure vault keeper in solitary underground immediately. Forge embezzlement ledgers. Killing him now would draw His Majesty's suspicion. Hold the cards."
"As you command."
"And summon High Priest Solon of the Sun God Church to my office in utmost secrecy."
The shadow vanished. Kasian glared at the empty case, coldly turning his cooled mind. Kellun's report. Zone 17's mana-devouring predator. He hastily spun an idea.
Report to the Emperor that the treasure wasn't wasted by him, but sucked into Zone 17's monster. But the Emperor wasn't a senile fool. Needed hard evidence.
Afternoon. Imperial capital, back alley.
Lenia Bright stood limping in a brown tunic behind the 'Red Lion' tavern. A minute passed. From the shadows emerged a short-necked, pot-bellied middle-aged man, staggering over. Viscount Vail.
Collar disheveled, dark circles under his eyes. A face that hadn't slept.
"Y-you...?"
Lenia silently drew half a Polaroid from her bosom. A photo of Vail's slush fund ledger. Vail's face went sheet-white.
"Y-you're the one."
Cold sweat trickled down his temples.
"What do you want?"
"Imperial Palace movements."
Lenia's reply was curt. Vail glanced around. Checked both alley ends twice, thrice, before speaking low.
"The treasure vault keeper was dragged off this morning."
"Reason."
"Don't know."
Vail waved his hand. "No official reason. Just vanished at dawn. Palace talk's buzzing though..."
Words trailed. Lenia waited.
"High Priest Solon prowling the palace gardens. Since early morning. No clue what for, but His Highness's face has been off since the banquet."
"Heard what he's seeking?"
"Nope."
Vail wiped forehead sweat, shaking his head. "But... I heard the Bright count family knights got orders to search Zone 17 outskirts. Not direct, mind—overheard from an adjutant's adjutant."
That was it. Vail seemed to know no more. Eyes wandered, fingertips trembled faintly.
In that moment, Lenia's stride faltered. 0.5 seconds. Bright count family. Father's knights searching nearby.
"Focus."
Two words from the earpiece. Lenia's gaze chilled again.
"Understood. Return."
Vail sighed in relief and fled the alley. Lenia turned, limping away.