"Schwarz, what do you think of that man—Cape?"
"…He's no ordinary man, Lord Herman."
"Oh? Don't tell me that even you, standing that close, couldn't guarantee victory if you struck?"
"I'm not sure, sir. He always looks so relaxed, almost careless—but even when he seems full of openings, he still leaves himself a way to survive."
"Heh… it seems the rumors about the 'Boss' weren't all nonsense after all."
"…"
"Ah, Schwarz, you don't always have to wear that grim expression."
"My lord, it's not safe here."
"For you, Schwarz, where is safe?"
"…."
"Never mind. I suppose I shouldn't expect you to enjoy small talk. Let's get straight to it."
"…Apologies."
"No need to apologize, Schwarz. Ceylon and I have long since considered you part of the family—not a mere tool. You don't have to force yourself."
"…Thank you, my lord."
"That Feline known as 'the Boss'—Cape—people say he can see the future. In the financial world, he moves like a prophet: buying and selling with uncanny timing, always one step ahead of the market. And every attempt on his life… somehow, he knows beforehand."
"…My lord, that sounds too unbelievable."
"Haha, I agree. I'd rather believe he simply gathers information and deduces the rest through intellect and experience. After all, if a man truly could see the future with certainty, wouldn't that make him nothing more than a puppet of fate?"
"…"
"Who knows? Perhaps the ability to see the future is just fate's cruelest joke."
---
"Cronin, my dear friend—you look even more magnificent than the last time we met."
After finishing his private discussion with Herman, Cape immediately contacted one of his closest business partners.
He had no choice.
Sentimentality costs money—and Cape doesn't do business at a loss.
After all, friendship without profit was a poor investment.
He befriended people for gain; and when that gain diminished, cutting them loose was simply sound business.
Play the part when needed, but never believe your own performance.
"Cape, my friend! You're here!"
Cronin, brimming with confidence, embraced the politely smiling Cape.
By secretly mining and selling obsidian to the Cape Group, Cronin had amassed quite the fortune and connections.
In his mind, he and Cape were brothers in spirit—
They had similar pasts (rumor said Cape suffered a tragic childhood).
They shared a deep friendship (Cape Group bought his obsidian at high prices).
And now, Cape had come to visit him for no apparent reason (truthfully, Cape was just bored and happened to be nearby).
Surely that proved how highly Cape valued him!
"Mr. Cronin, it seems you're truly thriving here in Siesta. At this rate, next time we meet, I'll have to call you Mayor Cronin~"
"Hahaha! Mr. Cape, you jest! I wouldn't dare compare myself to Lord Herman. Without him, Siesta wouldn't be what it is today!"
Cronin's words were humble—but the pride glimmering in his eyes betrayed him.
And beneath that pride, the flicker of greed stirred something within Cape.
Black Snake—lurking within—stirred restlessly.
It wasn't quite a full meal… but as a little snack, it would do.
A single chip from a bag of terran desires.
For the Black Snake, terran greed was always delicious.
"Mr. Cronin, don't you feel that your progress has been… somewhat restrained lately?"
Cape hinted, his tone silky and casual.
"…Mr. Cape, you must be tired from your journey. Let's dine first."
Cronin caught on quickly, grinning as he led Cape by the shoulder into a luxurious hotel.
To any bystander, they looked like the best of friends.
---
"Talulah…"
Patriot's gaze followed the young woman as she returned triumphantly to the Reunion camp, leading carts piled high with supplies.
She was explaining the origin of the goods to the wary FrostNova.
"Well… let's just say I helped Lungmen deal with a particularly troublesome enemy," Talulah said with a confident smile. "This was their payment, along with some major concessions in our cooperation terms."
"As expected of our leader—accomplishing what no one else could."
"Talulah, that was far too dangerous… next time, at least tell us first."
"Sorry, I'll be more careful next time~"
Talulah noticed Alina standing nearby, hesitant, as if there was something she wanted to say.
She glared fiercely at the three young men cowering at the edge of the crowd.
Unfortunately for her, Alina wasn't the only one who wanted to have a word.
"Talulah, I have something I wish to discuss with you."
The other Reunion officers immediately stepped aside, clearing a path for the Patriot.
As the Shield of the Infected, the old warrior's authority among them was absolute.
"…Alright."
Talulah left the crowd and followed Patriot toward one of the larger tents.
She had a feeling this would be about her foster father—Duke Kashchey.
But when she entered the tent, she found someone already waiting inside:
a white-haired Liberi man she didn't recognize, his presence calm yet commanding.
"…Patriot?" Talulah looked to him in mild confusion.
She trusted the old soldier completely, so her question was less suspicion and more curiosity—who was this dignified elder with a sword at his side?
"Honored leader of Reunion," the man said quietly, his tone deep and respectful. "Forgive an infected warrior for intruding upon your time."
Hellagur tossed the weapon from his hip aside, signaling he had no hostile intent.
His gaze lingered on Talulah, studying her with a complicated expression.
So this is the Duke's foster daughter…?
He'd heard of her from Patriot—an old comrade with whom he shared countless battlefields and memories.
"I merely wish to understand the ideals that drive Reunion," Hellagur said softly.
He did not ask directly about her connection to Kashchey; that topic was far too sensitive.
Instead, he intended to learn through her words and demeanor—what kind of person this supposed heir to Kashchey truly was.
Patriot said Kashchey valued this girl deeply…
But how could that be?
That mercurial immortal—he was never one for compassion.
Whether he even possesses a heart is still in question.
Let me see for myself… what kind of woman could command my old friend's loyalty?
To anger Duke Kashchey and live to tell the tale—this "leader of Reunion" may not be as simple as she appears.
…There is another possibility.
The one standing before me—speaking with confidence and conviction—might no longer be Talulah the idealist…
…but Kashchey himself.
Kashchey… what game are you playing?