Lenia's Negotiation Practice
I cleared the plates from the camping table and set up an impromptu negotiation simulation space.
"Ayla. You play Kasian."
"Of course! I know every damn habit that bastard has."
Ayla shrugged and sat across from me at the table. She straightened her back, tilted her chin up just a fraction, and lowered her gaze halfway. The air changed.
"Let them enter."
Even her voice was different. The tone dropped half an octave, with that signature clipped ending to her sentences. Something about it gave me chills. Ayla wasn't acting like Kasian—she'd slipped into his skin like a second suit. And then—her left hand rose. An unconscious tic. Her fingertips fiddled with a nonexistent cufflink in the air.
Lenia stood before the table. I brought the earpiece mic to my mouth.
"First line. 'I've brought debris recovered from Zone 17.'"
Lenia opened her mouth.
"I've brought debris recovered from Zone 17."
0.5-second delay. Zero inflection. Flat frequency.
Ayla, as Kasian, narrowed her eyes and propped her chin on her hand.
"Show me the proof."
I whispered into the mic.
"Put the fuse on the table."
"Put the fuse on the table."
Lenia placed the vacuum-packed fuse on the table.
"...Hold on."
I pulled away from the mic.
"Lenia."
"Yes."
"What did I just say?"
"'Put the fuse on the table,' sir."
"That was an order to you. Not a line for Kasian."
0.3 seconds of silence.
"...Understood."
No change in expression. No sign of reflection. She'd just received the fact and stored it.
Ayla's spoon clattered against her plate.
"Boss. This person can't tell orders from lines?"
"She doesn't distinguish," Lenia corrected flatly. "I was told to relay received audio, so I relayed the received audio."
It wasn't wrong. Brutally not wrong.
"...Fine. Adding a new rule."
I tapped the scrap paper with my ballpoint pen.
"If I say 'say it' first, it's a line. Otherwise, it's an action order. Got it?"
"Understood."
Again. Ayla recreated Kasian's gaze, looking down at the fuse.
"Where's the proof that this is debris from the Tear of the Sun?"
I spoke into the mic.
"Say it. 'The proof can be verified directly by Your Highness's priest. I merely brought the item.'"
Lenia repeated it verbatim.
"The proof can be verified directly by Your Highness's priest. I merely brought the item."
0.5-second delay. Zero inflection. Perfectly flat frequency.
Ayla dropped Kasian mode.
"No!!"
She slammed the table and shot to her feet.
"Boss, this isn't a person—it's a loudspeaker!! Listen to her talk! Not a gram of emotion! If Kasian hears that tone, he'll clock 'someone's puppeteering this' in one second flat!"
"..."
Couldn't deny it. I felt it too. Lenia's repetition was precise, but too precise—that was the problem. No human talks like that; it comes off unnatural.
"Lenia. Can you make it more natural? In your own speech pattern."
Lenia fell silent for a moment.
"I never agreed to act."
Honest. Brutally honest.
Ayla clutched her head with both hands and growled.
"Boss! You can't give her lines! Better if I disguise myself and—"
"Your ex-fiancée? You think a disguise fools him?"
"Ugh, yeah, but still!"
I took a sip of coffee and pondered. Ayla dove back into Kasian mode with sharp questions, Lenia parroted mechanically, Ayla exploded. We repeated this about three times. Then the fourth.
"Who is your backer?"
Ayla asked in Kasian's icy tone. At that moment, her left hand rose again. Index and middle fingers fidgeting in the air. Same as before. She wasn't even aware of it.
I started to feed the next line into the mic—but hesitated. I hadn't scripted an answer for this question yet.
0.5 seconds of blank. 1 second. 2 seconds. Lenia just stood there, no line received. No "say it" from the earpiece, so nothing to repeat. So she just—stood there, mouth shut.
The control room air froze. Ayla as Kasian—actually flinched. It wasn't acting. Lenia's blank silence looked like deliberate refusal to answer, not forgetting a line. Those indifferent, empty eyes pierced right through, and the pressure of that silence weighed heavier than any reply.
I set down my coffee mug.
Aha. That's it.
"That's good."
"Huh?"
"No acting. Just stand there. Say nothing."
Lenia tilted her head slightly.
"Lenia, changing your role. You're not a negotiator. You're a delivery vehicle that brought the item. Only say lines I prefix with 'say it' via earpiece—exactly those. If Kasian asks something off-script? Don't answer. Just stand there."
"...Understood."
"Ayla. One more time. Kasian mode."
Ayla half-doubted but resumed Kasian's posture. Eyes half-lidded, chin up.
"Who is your backer?"
Lenia crossed her arms. Mouth shut. Blank expression. Said nothing.
5 seconds. 10 seconds. Ayla's Kasian mode slowly crumbled. Bewilderment flickered in her silver eyes.
"...This is scarier, though?"
I snapped my fingers.
"Exactly."
"What?"
"Kasian's rolled in politics his whole life. He's tuned to read intent from speech patterns, facial shifts, eye movements. Show him clumsy acting, and he sees through it in 0.5 seconds."
I pointed at Lenia.
"But if there's nothing to read? No expression, no reaction, no detectable intent? The politician's analysis circuits overload. The anxiety of 'I can't read this person' flips to 'This person's backer is someone I can't touch recklessly.'"
Ayla looked up at Lenia again. Arms crossed, standing there—her face was still nothing. The most inhuman expression a living person could wear.
"...Yeah, she does look like an errand runner from the 'don't-touch' side."
I grabbed the ballpoint pen and jotted the rehearsal results on the scrap paper.
[Strategy Revision: From 'Acting Negotiator' to 'Silent Messenger']
Lenia executes only earpiece instructions. Rest of the time, just stand. If Kasian asks off-script—silence.
Once Solon's mana verification confirms authenticity, that silence reads as confidence.
"But boss."
Ayla spun an empty plate on her finger.
"Is it safe for Lenia to go up like that? The Bright family is searching Zone 17 outskirts. If a former knight corps member shows her face near the palace—"
I'd been thinking the same. Lenia Bright. Illegitimate daughter discarded by her stepmother. She'd beaten the legitimate heir at a noble martial tournament. Anyone from the Bright family would recognize her instantly.
"...You're right."
I opened the The Last Survivor System shop. Typed in the search bar: cosmetics.
Perfect.
"Lenia."
"Yes."
"Do you know how to do makeup?"
0.5 seconds of silence.
"...No experience."
Expected answer.
"Ayla."
"Yeah?"
"You do it."
Same time. Imperial Palace, Kasian's office.
Three knocks echoed.
"Enter."
The door opened. The emperor's eunuch bowed at a perfect ninety degrees as he entered. Silver hair, wrinkled face. An old mirror who'd served the imperial house for forty years.
"Your Highness. His Majesty sends his regards."
"Regards."
Kasian's hand paused over his teacup. When the eunuch used "regards," it rarely meant actual well-wishes.
"His Majesty is preparing to audit the treasury ledgers."
The teacup hit the saucer with an oddly sharp clink.
"The national treasure inventory physical verification was scheduled for year-end, but by His Majesty's will, it's been advanced. The treasury inspection will proceed in three days. If Your Highness has any procedures for returning sacred relics used at the banquet, it would be wise to prepare in advance."
Polite. Three days.
The eunuch bowed and withdrew. The office door closed silently. Kasian didn't move. The tea surface in the cup rippled faintly. His fingertips were trembling.
Three days. Treasury inspection in three days. National Treasure No. 7, Tear of the Sun—physical confirmation impossible. The curator was already in the underground dungeon, but the inspectors weren't curators; they were the emperor's direct auditors. No fooling them with embezzlement or forged ledgers.
Without hard evidence. Three days later.
Kasian rose. His steps carried him to the full-length mirror at the back of the office. The one he faced every morning to adjust his attire. The man in the mirror was flawless. Golden hair impeccably groomed, uniform without a single wrinkle. Born the empire's crown prince, raised that way, sculpted that way.
But today—that face felt foreign.
I am the sun.
The words rolled in his mouth, echoing hollowly before the mirror. His left hand rose. Index and middle fingers toyed with the cufflink. A meaningless habit. Someone watching would have noticed, but no one was here.
Kasian's gaze dropped to the desk. Solon's open report. "The energy trajectory ends in Zone 17's underground bedrock layer." Nail marks already scarred that line. He'd read it so many times last night the parchment was scraped.
Go myself. Descend to Zone 17, find the debris.
But he couldn't. Breaking the emperor's Class 1 imperial seal without permission would constitute treason for the crown prince. His father saw subjects before sons. That was the empire's law, etched into Kasian from birth.
Needed the debris inside the barrier, but couldn't touch the barrier. Plus, that demon lord who shredded Shadow Fang in one blow was down there.
Kasian's hand seized the stack of papers beside the report. Bright Knight Corps search report. Zone 17 outskirts search results—'No anomalies.'
He set it down. His nail scraped the desk surface.
Three days. Time was running out.