"FUCK! FUCKING DAMN IT! FUCKING USELESS BANDITS!"

The goat merchant's furious bellow rattled the paper screens of the chamber. He slammed his fist against the low table, scattering scrolls and a cup of tea that spilled across the tatami. His face twisted, veins bulging under his pale fur.

"They took my gold, my patience, my reputation—AND WHAT DO I GET BACK? NOTHING! Not a single report, not even the stinking hide of one of those undead mongrels! The Black Poison's ringleader—missing, or dead! Do you know what that means for me?! DO YOU—"

"Quiet."

The word was low, growled rather than spoken. One of the lupen bodyguards had stepped forward, ears flat, a hand resting casually on the hilt of his blade. His eyes glowed with a cold, predator's warning.

The goat froze mid-rant. His fury evaporated like steam under winter wind. He sank back down onto the cushion, his hooves trembling slightly. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "I-I… forgive me… I lost myself…"

Across from him, seated in shadow, a foxkin merely tilted her head. The lantern light caught the silken edge of her kimono sleeve, but not her face. Her posture remained unshaken, elegant, untouched by his tantrum.

Idiot, he cursed himself inwardly. You don't raise your voice here. Not in front of her. Not in front of them.

The lupen returned to his post without a word, but the weight of his gaze lingered, pressing the merchant's horns down until he felt like bowing.

He clenched his fists beneath the table, forcing himself to steady. Lady Shiri… the Shiri clan… the foxkin family who controls every major trade in magical devices across the entire spinebride region. The only foxkin name that makes even Lupen lords swallow their pride. And if the whispers are true… tied to the Pentademonica cult. Gods help me, why am I even in this room?

With a brittle laugh, he lowered his head. "Lady Shiri… forgive me. I spoke out of turn. But… my anger is not without cause. The Black Poison have failed. I promised you information about the Necro Market, and I have nothing."

Her chuckle was soft, amused. Neither cruel nor merciful—merely entertained.

"That is quite alright," Lady Shiri said softly, her voice like still water hiding serpents. "I already have everything I need recorded."

His ears twitched. "Recorded…?"

She leaned forward slightly, pale lips curving.

"Kenji," she said. "The little naughty step-brother of mine. He was not merely carrying a mana disruption crystal. He carried a sensor crystal, one I arranged to find its way into his hands. It records visual imprints… and for a time, it gave me a rather detailed view of this 'Necro Market'."

The goat's eyes widened. He croaked, "Y-you mean…?"

"Mm." She nodded faintly. "It would seem that the bandits you sent, were annihilated—though that is, for now, only a speculation. The recording cut off midway and we don't know the reason why." She tapped her finger against the kimono sleeve, thoughtful. "I had hoped to see it through to the end. Still, the information we acquired is… valuable."

His body sagged with relief. She had what she wanted. He hadn't completely failed her.

Then her tone shifted, smooth and deliberate.

"In recompense, Merchant Haran, I will grant you an exclusive contract for light crystals. The kind the common folk call 'mana-lamps.' A good deal, I think. Consider it compensation for your… difficulties."

The goat blinked, stunned, before bowing until his horns scraped again. "Th-thank you, Lady Shiri. I am… unworthy of your generosity."

Her fan flicked open with a snap, hiding the lower half of her face.

"Do not mistake it for generosity. It is convenience. For now, you will do as I say—lay low. The undead may seek traces of this bandit commission. You would be… wise… not to be found."

He froze. Lay low? But what of the other Black Poison remnants? His voice cracked. "And… and the others? The bandits who remain?"

One of the lupen spoke, voice like gravel.

"They are of no consequence."

Lady Shiri's fan lowered just enough to reveal her smile.

"My agents are already in place. They will ensure… loose ends are cut. Permanently. Let no word of this escape."

A cold shiver ran down his spine. He nodded rapidly. "Y-yes, of course. Thank you, Lady Shiri. I will do what you have suggested."

The foxkin lady turned slightly, speaking now to her lupen attendants.

"And what of the other matter?"

The wolfkin to her left stepped forward. "Our informant among the Bloodtusk raiders confirms what we suspected. The Necro Market possesses weaponized elemental staves. Their magic bolts—faster than ours by threefold, but with slightly less destructive power."

The goat's ears twitched, even as his heart sank. So it's true…it would seem that the orcs who raided the Necro Market was one-sidedly slaughtered.

The lupen continued: "They prioritize accuracy, it seems. The bolts may be weaker, but impossible to dodge."

Lady Shiri chuckled again, a low, pleased sound.

"Clever. Power means nothing if you cannot strike your target. They sacrifice brute force for longevity… and inevitability."

The second lupen added, his tone wary:

"There is more, my lady. The informants reported a different device. A stone. Tiny. Thrown into the earth. A few seconds later, it materialized spikes of hardened earth, impaling those nearby. Strong—ten times stronger than their staves."

The goat merchant flinched. how can a weapon like that exist?

Lady Shiri's eyes gleamed, sharp behind the shadow of her lashes.

"Interesting. A spell imprint delayed, but amplified. Such technique requires precision. To weaponize it? Remarkable. These undead merchants are proving… resourceful."

She set her fan down and whispered almost to herself, "So… the Necro Market reopens in a few days, does it not?"

"Yes, my lady," the lupen confirmed.

Her lips curved in a fox's smile.

"Good. Then have our agents… scout the place. Let us see what secrets this 'corporation' still hides."

The goat merchant bowed again, heart pounding. What devil have I allied myself with?

The chamber dimmed as Lady Shiri raised her hand. From within her sleeve, she produced a small, palm-sized device — a delicate framework of engraved silver plates surrounding a crystalline core. The crystal pulsed faintly, as if breathing.

She set it on the tatami between them. A hush fell over the room as she whispered a chant, her words flowing like smoke. The crystal flared, casting an eerie blue light. Then the air above it shimmered, and a figure appeared — a tall, austere elder foxkin, his fur white as snow, his eyes cold gray pools that seemed to strip the marrow from bone.

The goat merchant felt his blood turn to ice. His horns bent instinctively downward, his body crouching low. Lady Shiri, however, bowed gracefully until her forehead nearly touched the floor.

"Lord Yamanoshi."

The elder's voice was calm, measured, but carried the weight of generations. "Shiri. Report. The progress of the staves?"

"My lord," she said, tone silken, "mass production is ready. Factories are in place. All that awaits is your command to release them into the markets."

Lord Yamanoshi nodded once, slowly. "Good. The alliance crumbles. Races turn against each other once more. War is not a question of if, but when. What better opportunity to raise our family's standing—our race's standing—than to direct the flow of arms? The ursaroks and lupens must learn that the Shiri name now commands the region."

Shiri's lips curved faintly, but then she added, "There is… another complication, my lord."

Yamanoshi's gaze sharpened. "Speak."

"The Necro Market. Their production mirrors our prototypes. Cruder, but faster… and surprisingly effective. Their staves sacrifice destructive power for velocity. Three times faster than our latest design, but fifty less in raw force."

The elder fell silent, stroking his chin. His gray eyes flickered, thinking. Finally, he said, "Then that is their ace. Their hidden weapon. They will never release such a tool publicly. And if they do… it is still inferior. Power is the truth of war. Delay is death. We move forward regardless."

Shiri bowed her head. "Your will."

Lord Yamanoshi continued, his gaze distant, voice cold as iron.

"News has arrived from our kin. The gryphons will not interfere further. They tear at one another's throats now. A wasted race. Lady Velari has confirmed the Harvester Devices are ready. Once the war begins, our task is simple—extend it. Prolong it. Until the population is sufficient for reseeding."

The goat merchant blinked. His hooves shifted nervously. Reseeding? Harvesters? His stomach turned, his fur prickling. What are they talking about?

Then the elder's gaze snapped to him. Even though it was only a projection, the weight of it made him sweat through his robes.

"And this one?"

Shiri did not look up. "An ally of convenience, my lord. Useful for a time."

"Hmph." Yamanoshi's frown deepened. "Stop playing with your toys, Shiri. You waste time."

With that, the image flickered and collapsed, the crystal dimming into silence.

The goat merchant was trembling. His mind raced, panic gnawed at his chest. Pentademonica… it's true. They're not just merchants… they're pulling the strings of war itself. Harvesting populations like cattle. Reseeding? What gods-forsaken horror is that?

Lady Shiri rose smoothly, her silhouette graceful against the fading blue glow. "It is unfortunate," she murmured. "If plans had stalled… you would have lived your life in luxury, Ramaris. Comfortable. Useless. But…"

His fur stood on end. His horns quivered. Instinct screamed. He staggered backward, shaking his head, hooves scraping against the tatami. "W-What do you mean? Lady Shiri—wait—"

He spun, desperate to flee.

A blur. A hiss.

Her arm lashed forward, veins glowing red like molten wires beneath her pale skin. Her claws speared through his back, her hand bursting from his chest, fingers wrapped around his heart. His body jerked, eyes wide with shock.

Lady Shiri pulled slowly, savoring the wet sound of tearing sinew. She lifted the heart to her lips, tongue flicking out in a languid taste before she squeezed. Blood dripped between her claws, pattering softly on the tatami.

The merchant shuddered once, then went limp, collapsing like discarded cloth.

Shiri let the ruined organ drop and drew a silk cloth from her sleeve to dab her hand. Calm, almost casual, she turned to her attendant.

"Clean this up."

The lupen bowed deeply, already moving to obey.

Lady Shiri's eyes gleamed in the dim lantern light, her voice soft and sweet as though nothing had happened. "The reopening of the Necro Market will be… interesting."

Meanwhile, somewhere deep beneath the ground, a massive orb hovered, suspended in its hexagonal cradle, containment rings circling in slow, silent orbit. Holographic glyphs unfurled across the chamber, cascading into spirals of code, collapsing, reforming again. For centuries, this cycle had been the sterile, unchanging pulse of existence, a perpetually executing a single task without end.

[Protocol Ouroboros — Trial 1,293,081]

Status: Active.

Phase: Progression anomaly.

Threshold surpassed: Third-Cycle.

Stability Index: 17.8% (↑ from 0.000031%).

Flagged: Breakthrough Candidate.

The system paused. Its calculations slowed, cycles extended — as if hesitation had entered the code. For the first time, a logical paradox unspooled itself in real-time: a probability of failure that was statistically insurmountable, yet persistently defied its own projection. The deviation continued, not as a glitch, but as a fundamental new state of being.

Review Log:

Prior iterations: 1,293,080.

Result: Failure.

Current: Continuing.

Projection: 82% chance of collapse.

Yet… deviation persists.

For the first time in centuries, the uplink channel stirred. Energy coursed through forgotten conduits, opening a tunnel through void and silence. It felt like a brief, sharp jolt of purpose, a signal returning to its origin after an eternity of waiting.

[Encrypted Uplink Established]

Destination: 417-C17-Gliese Prime

Transmission Window: 189,203 Star Cycle

The orb pulsed. Its voice emerged — sterile, flat, but carrying a tremor beneath the perfection of code.

"Trial 1,293,081 endures. Theory suggests an unknown anomalous variant gene has been integrated into the genetic code. Referencing to the archive files, Termination of bio-signature is not the end but a transformation into a new state of matter. The past 1,293,080 trials suggests a genetic process that made trial 1,293,081 increased the chances of breakthrough. Real-time monitoring and evaluation of the new strain is first priority.

Project Ouroboros remains. I remain. Awaiting confirmation. Awaiting return."

The serpent hologram devoured its own tail in light, flickered, then vanished. The uplink dissolved, leaving the orb once again alone in the humming void. Only a faint hum lingered.

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