Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 107: Deeper Into the Game

DI-DI-DING!

"Got him!"

[Five stars Eastiel Edengold!]

"Haaaaaaa..." Cecilia’s body, already pushed far beyond its limits, went utterly slack. She slumped face-first into the fur, a dead weight, and immediately passed out.

Meanwhile... the three men, left in the aftermath, slowly blinked, their gazes drifting unseeingly toward the dying campfire. The post-nut clarity hit them hard.

What in the seven hells have we just done...?

"We are not speaking of this," Arkai stated, his voice the first to cut through the thick quiet. "Ever. To no one."

"Brother Arkai..." Eastiel’s voice was weak and a little accusatory. "You were... the filthiest of us all just now..."

"Shut up," Arkai grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

Oathran cleared his throat. "Eastiel," he said. "It’s time you return to your desert. That tiger pup will have discovered her body is missing by now. His suspicion will fall on you first."

Eastiel raised his face, the bliss and shock fading. "Did Cecilia want me to?"

"It’s clear what she wants after a while," Arkai interjected, poking the embers of the fire with a stick, avoiding all eye contact. "I will also return to the north. Alone. That poisonous snake, Elara, is still sitting on her tail in my keep. She needs to be managed."

"I will take the Saintess to find this alchemist," Oathran continued. "Once secured, I will bring both the alchemist and their entire workshop to my mountain castle. Better to chain them to the bedrock and enslave them for eternity than risk them brewing some scent-changing potion and vanishing into the wind with our recipe once their usefulness is done."

"Scent-changing potio—wow, Elder Brother," Eastiel said. "That’s... highly illegal now."

"It wasn’t illegal sixty years ago," Arkai muttered, a chuckle escaping him. "And the alchemist guilds still use it every time they’re about to pull a major swindle and need to disappear."

"It’s illegal now...?" Oathran blinked, genuinely perplexed. The rapid shift of mortal laws was a constant minor irritation to him. "What else is? Is bone-corroding potion also illegal now?"

Eastiel and Arkai turned their heads in horror to stare at him.

"Pffff—I’m kidding. Of course I know it’s no longer legal."

...

...

...

"Elder Brother... was that... ever... legal...?"

***

Cassia’s capital in the first week of the tenth month was a city gilded by its own wealth and softened by the season’s gentle decay.

Ahhh, the air, crisp as a snapped apple, carried the smoky perfume of burning oak from a thousand hearths, mingling with the honeyed scent of ripe produce spilling from opulent market stalls.

Sunlight was steeped in amber, falling across grand avenues paved with pale, gleaming stone. It caught in the russet and gold tapestries hung from latticed balconies, while the leaves of imported maples lining the boulevards blazed in brilliant, yet dying fires of crimson and orange...

...before spiraling down to carpet the city in a luxurious rust. Cassia’s humble prosperity. What a great achievement this year too.

Fuck that for now. It was time to be giddy.

"My, oh, my!"

Qinryc spread his arms wide, framing the grand entrance of his mansion like a showman unveiling a prize. He stood at the top of the shallow steps, warmly welcoming his guest.

Stepping down from a plain, discreet carriage that seemed to absorb the late afternoon light rather than reflect it, a figure in a full-body black cloak paused. The man looked up, the shadow of his hood deepening. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"Our Young Prince..." Qinryc purred. "Welcome to this humble human’s abode."

Nikolas suppressed a low growl in his chest. Sly bastard. The man hadn’t specified which prince, but still calling him a prince anyway. And the pointed insertion of ’human’, it was such a casual and subtle hint that the guest wasn’t one.

After everything he’d done to hide his arrival...

"Now, now," Qinryc continued, gliding down the steps effortlessly. "Everyone here is under my thumb. The very stones know better than to gossip. No word of your visit will ever breathe beyond these walls."

Such a confident assurance. Seeing it, Nikolas felt a grudging belief settle in. This was, after all, the notorious Prime Minister of Cassia.

Once fully inside the opulent, echoing mansion and settled in a sitting room that smelled of lemon polish and old money, Nikolas finally tipped his head back, letting the hood fall just enough to reveal the sharp, cold planes of his face.

"You dare force me to make this journey," he said, "for what? A whack medicine? A tavern-side rumor?"

Qinryc chuckled. "Yes, yes, the medicine I have chosen to promote is, of course, a mere ’whack’. Naturally."

He leaned back, steepling his fingers, once again emphasizing the power of his endorsement, his reputation the only currency that mattered here.

"What kind of elixir is it?" Nikolas demanded, impatient.

The Prime Minister shook his head, tsk-tsking in disappointment. "I had assumed you arrived with the full knowledge of the commodity, Young Prince."

"Thanks to everyone involved being this hushed about it, I am not," Nikolas shot back, the chill in his voice dropping several degrees. "Stop playing your courtier games. Prove its worth. Now."

Qinryc took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, as if burdened by the need to explain basic commerce to a child. "My prince," he said, apologetic. "I am... regretful to inform you. It is a pre-order."

Nikolas’s eyes widened.

Pre-order...?

He had spent weeks negotiating this clandestine channel, exchanging coded letters, riding under secrecy only a royal heir could command, risking exposure, and the damn thing wasn’t even in stock?

"You must understand," Qinryc continued, "there is a queue. A line of powerful, desperate, and patient individuals that stretches from here to the southern jungles and back. I am fortunate, exceptionally fortunate, in fact, to have secured a delivery slot within the week. At the latest. The lady who creates this... she is incredibly, and understandably, busy."

"An alchemist?" Nikolas narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Is this person another guild swindler? Another perfume-hawking charlatan?"

"Of course not," Qinryc replied firmly. He leaned forward earnestly. "She is a healer. I have seen it. With my own eyes. A mason’s leg, shattered, the bone protruding, knitted itself clean in three days. Three days! With a single dose."

"No fever. No corruption. Just... put the bones where they should be, drink the dose, and... it’s..." He shook his head, genuine awe bleeding through his polished facade. "It’s crazy stuff, my prince."

He wasn’t lying. Not a single syllable of it.

Qinryc had personally tested it after the Saintess had slipped him the shimmering vial. But of course, he wouldn’t breathe a word of that provenance to this arrogant, ice-blooded pup.

"Of course," Qinryc smiled. "You don’t have to believe me. You can doubt, you can scoff. In fact, if the elixir fails, you have my full permission to drag me into the public square and slit my throat yourself. A guaranteed refund of sorts."

He waved a dismissive hand. "But between us, depending on the severity of the ailment... I suspect you may require more than a single dose?"

Nikolas’s eyes narrowed to slits.

Sly bastard.

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HAPPY NEW YEARRRR!!! 🥰🥳🎉🎉🎉🎊🎇🎆🎇🎆

Thank you for spending the end of the year with me, and let us spend the beginning of this year together!