After the papers were signed, Helena looked up at Exis, clear irritation still written across her face.

  “So,” she said, “is the house mine now? Can I move in immediately?”

  She hesitated, then added more bluntly, “I don’t have a place to stay.”

  Exis stared at her.

  For a brief moment, his mind refused to cooperate.

  Don’t have a place to stay?

  With that much wealth, she could rent the Royal Palace without anyone daring to laugh. And she was telling him she didn’t even have a residence?

  His gaze flicked over her again. The pile of gold still sitting in front of the stage looked like a quiet accusation.

  Young Rias, he thought, where did you even pick up this stray golden cat?

  But the money had already changed hands. The deed had already been signed. There was no stepping back from this now. That meant handling the consequences instead.

  Rules would have to bend. Quietly.

  First, a noble title would need to be arranged. If the Royal Palace learned that a capital estate had been sold to someone without recognized status, it would turn into a bureaucratic nightmare. And after that, he would need to speak with Rias.

  A calm conversation.

  A very gentle one.

  Exis cleared his throat and straightened.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his voice polite and measured, “but you won’t be able to move in immediately. There are arrangements that need to be made.”

  Helena tipped her head back slightly and sighed.

  “Oh, come on,” she muttered. “I can’t even move into one damn house?”

  She looked back at him, annoyance sharpening. “What’s still pending? I paid the money. The house is mine. What’s the problem?”

  Exis didn’t rise to the tone.

  “I don’t believe you plan to live there alone,” he said. “Or manage the estate by yourself.”

  He gestured faintly, as if the size of the property were common knowledge. “You’ll need servants. Guards. Maintenance. That residence is the largest in the capital after the Royal Palace. If no one lives there properly, it won’t take long before it starts looking abandoned.”

  Helena heard him.

  She understood the words.

  But only one of them reached her.

  Alone.

  Her expression didn’t change, but something in her chest tightened all the same. Power didn’t erase fear. Surviving an apocalypse hadn’t made her brave in the ways people assumed.

  She had always been afraid to die. Afraid of silence. Afraid of her heart stopping when no one was there to notice.

  Even back on Earth, it hadn’t just been obligations or family pressure that kept her going. Fear had done its share of the work.

  Exis finished speaking, unaware of where her thoughts had gone.

  Helena didn’t answer right away.

  Instead, she turned her head and looked out toward the audience. Her eyes moved quickly, skipping over faces she didn’t care about until they found who she was looking for.

  Lyasi(Laysandra)

  She was still sitting there, arms crossed, expression torn between confusion and irritation.

  Helena’s shoulders eased, just slightly.

  She turned back toward Exis.

  He had been waiting for her attention, hands loosely folded, posture careful in the way of someone used to dealing with people who could afford to be unreasonable.

  “Can you give us a few days?” he asked. “We need time to make arrangements. You’ve already paid a little… more than usual.” He let out a dry, awkward laugh. “We can’t simply say ‘it’s yours, good luck,’ and walk away.”

  He paused, then continued, his tone shifting into something more formal.

  “Here is my proposal. For the first ten years, you won’t need to handle anything. Estate management, guards, servants, maintenance, supplies. The Merchant Guild will take care of all of it for you.”

  Helena’s gaze stayed on him.

  “After ten years,” Exis went on, “if you wish to continue using our services, we can sit down and renegotiate. But until then, you won’t need to lift a finger. Everything will be our responsibility.”

  Helena raised a finger to her lips and thought.

  “So,” she said slowly, “I don’t need to worry about anything. The Merchant Guild handles everything I need.”

  “Yes,” Exis replied without hesitation.

  She was quiet for a moment longer, then nodded, the decision already made.

  “I like the offer,” Helena said. “But I have a condition.”

  Exis straightened slightly. “Of course. Tell me. We’ll comply to the best of our ability.”

  “Increase the number of guards and servants by ten times,” she said.

  She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t emphasize it. She said it the way someone stated a preference, not a demand.

  “This is my only condition. If you need more money, ask. I’ll pay whatever it costs.”

  Exis reacted before he thought.

  “Please don’t,” he said quickly. “You don’t need to pay another coin. We already have more than enough. I’ll… comply.”

  The words came out on their own.

  Only afterward did his mind catch up.

  Ten times.

  His thoughts began running whether he wanted them to or not. A normal noble house employed maybe a hundred people. Large houses doubled that. High-ranking estates pushed toward three hundred. The Royal Castle itself had four hundred guards and roughly three hundred servants.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Ten times that wasn’t a household.

  That was a population.

  His chest tightened as the scale of it settled in. That would make her residence the most densely staffed location in the capital. Finding that many trained people wouldn’t be a matter of quiet hiring. It would mean public recruitment, vetting, contracts, housing.

  A logistical nightmare.

  Exis kept his expression neutral, but inside he was already exhausted.

  What does she need that many people for? he wondered. Is she trying to turn the place into a fortress? Or just bury herself in company?

  He didn’t ask.

  She had already increased his workload beyond anything he had planned for.

  Exis nodded once more, committing himself to the problem whether he liked it or not.

  Helena noticed he hadn’t moved.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  He blinked, then straightened slightly. “Sorry. I was just… rearranging the flow of my work.”

  She tilted her head, watching him.

  “If it’s acceptable,” Exis continued, “we’ll send your servants in batches. Finding that many professionals at once isn’t realistic. I’ll have to open public recruitment.”

  Helena considered that for a moment. “Can you manage a hundred by morning?”

  “Yes,” Exis said. “We already have more than a hundred people on standby.”

  He paused. “Though we’ll need to construct additional servant quarters.”

  Helena frowned. “Is the house not big enough?”

  “It’s not about size,” Exis replied. “Most manors have separate servant quarters. Your estate can comfortably house around five hundred staff that way, but beyond that, the space becomes cramped.”

  She thought about it. “How many people can the main building hold?”

  Exis hesitated, then answered. “It’s the largest structure of its kind. Over eight hundred, without difficulty.”

  “Then why aren’t they living there?” Helena asked. “I don’t want to sleep in an empty house.”

  Exis opened his mouth, then closed it. “The main residence is considered… high class. Having servants live there is usually—”

  “Who owns the house?” Helena cut in.

  There was a short pause.

  “You do,” Exis said.

  “Then they live in the main residence,” Helena said, without raising her voice.

  Exis studied her for a second, then nodded. “Understood.”

  She seemed satisfied with that. A small smile appeared, brief and genuine.

  Without warning, she turned and stepped off the stage.

  Not down.

  Forward.

  She flipped once in the air and landed cleanly among the seats.

  “Ten points,” she said lightly.

  The audience stared as if they were looking at some rare creature in a zoo.

  Helena didn’t care what they thought.

  The audience hadn’t heard a word of the conversation. As soon as Helena and Exis began speaking, the auction staff raised a sound barrier around the stage. Sound didn’t pass through it. Sight didn’t help much either. Even the pile of gold sat beneath a thin containment layer, faintly visible only if someone looked closely.

  Everything was under control.

  Helena walked back toward her group, clearly pleased.

  “Stella. Lyasi,” she said. “I got us a home.”

  Stella froze. She had known Helena was wealthy. Anyone who handed out the most expensive plushie so casually had to be. But this was something else entirely. Her thoughts struggled to keep up.

  She opened her mouth.

  Laysandra cut her off.

  “What were you doing up there?” she snapped. “Do you know how many people are staring at me? I feel like I’m standing here naked just because I came with you.”

  Helena felt it too. The weight of eyes pressed in from all sides.

  Laysandra glanced past her. “Look at Lady Rias.”

  Helena followed her gaze.

  Rias sat in the middle of them, answering questions without pause.

  Her voice moved on its own. Short replies. Polite words. The same phrases repeated again and again. She didn’t seem to notice when she contradicted herself or when someone asked the same thing twice.

  Her eyes were unfocused.

  She looked like a doll set to repeat a recorded message.

  Around her, the noblewomen smiled.

  Their gazes kept slipping past Rias’s shoulder, drifting toward Helena’s position. The smiles were careful, a little too artificial. The kind meant to signal interest without committing to respect.

  Some watched openly.

  Others pretended not to.

  All of them were paying attention.

  Only Marchioness Venenya looked genuinely concerned. She glanced between Rias and Helena, her expression tightening slightly, as if trying to decide which situation was about to become a problem first.

  Helena noticed and lifted a hand.

  Helena waved back and smiled.

  The smile faded quickly.

  Maybe this was her fault. At least a little.

  She reached out and ruffled Stella’s hair, leaving it messier than before.

  “You’re invited to my house, little one,” Helena said.

  Stella bristled. “Who are you calling ‘little one’?”

  Helena grinned. “Of course. You.”

  Before Laysandra could react, Helena bent down and lifted her onto her shoulder.

  “Hey—!” Laysandra yelled. “No! Not again! Put me down!”

  Too late.

  The floor rippled beneath them.

  Helena stepped forward, and both of them sank into the ground as if it were water. Just before they vanished, her voice echoed back.

  “Bye-bye.”

  A moment later, Rias disappeared the same way, swallowed by the floor.

  Stella stared at the empty space they’d left behind, irritation and awe mixing together.

  What kind of spell was that? she wondered. Some modified earth-type trap?

  Whatever it was, it wasn’t normal.

  One item still remained on the auction roster.

  Helena didn’t care.

  She already had what she came for.

  ---

  The Third Parking Area of the Auction House-

  The third parking level of the auction house was silent.

  Not the quiet of an empty place, but the heavier kind.

  Bodies were everywhere. Drivers slumped over wheels. Servants collapsed beside carriages and luggage. Some lay sprawled across the stone floor, others half-seated where they had been standing moments earlier.

  All unconscious.

  The only person still moving wore an auction staff uniform.

  But he wasn’t part of the auction staff.

  His name was Abel, a senior member of the Thief Guild.

  A few hours earlier, a sealed letter had reached him through the usual channels. A noble client. A simple instruction. Steal a strange-looking carriage parked in the third lot of the auction hall.

  Under normal circumstances, it would have been laughable. Today of all days, the auction house was overflowing with nobles, guards, and high-ranking figures from across the kingdom. Security had been tightened to the point of paranoia.

  But Abel hadn’t been asked to enter the hall itself. Just the parking area.

  Difficult, but not impossible.

  And Abel wasn’t just any thief.

  He slipped past two patrol rotations, crossed paths with other guild members without exchanging a glance, and reached the path leading to the third lot without incident. Each of them had their own assignments. No overlap. No questions.

  Before stepping fully inside, Abel lit a thick stick of incense and let it burn.

  The scent was faint. Sweet. Easy to ignore.

  It was designed that way.

  Anyone who inhaled it without resistance would fall unconscious within ten minutes. Three hours at minimum before waking. Abel himself wore a treated cloth beneath his collar. Not immunity, but enough resistance to function.

  He waited.

  Ten minutes passed.

  The parking lot went still.

  Abel stepped inside and surveyed the scene with professional detachment, then walked toward a sleek, unfamiliar vehicle resting apart from the others.

  “So this is it,” he muttered.

  The shape was odd, but it had a strange appeal. Not built like a carriage meant for beasts.

  He unfolded the letter again and compared the description.

  A perfect match.

  Abel reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch. A magic bag. Costly, even by guild standards, but essential at his level. Its internal capacity could swallow a medium-sized carriage whole.

  Lucky for him, the target was just small enough.

  “I’m already behind,” he said quietly. “Let’s move.”

  He opened the bag and angled its mouth toward the vehicle.

  Nothing happened.

  Then the air shimmered.

  A thin red layer of aether flared across the surface of the carriage, repelling the pull with a dull pulse.

  Abel stumbled back a step, eyes wide.

  “…A barrier?”

  That wasn’t in the briefing.

  He tried again. Adjusted the angle. Poured more mana into the bag.

  The same result. A brief flash. Total resistance.

  Each attempt was rejected cleanly, as if the carriage didn’t even acknowledge the storage effect.

  Abel clenched his jaw.

  He didn’t know this vehicle had been constructed by someone who had fully mastered aether engineering. In fact, he didn’t even know what aether engineering was. The concept didn’t exist in this world.

  This wasn’t like Helena’s chopper, an early model built when its creator had only begun learning. This sedan was made after mastery. Not the highest class, like Helena’s rings, but still a finished product. Defensive layers stacked deliberately. Ownership protocols embedded deep.

  One of them was simple.

  It could not be stored anywhere except its owner’s rings.

  Abel didn’t know that.

  What he knew was that time was slipping.

  “…Damn it.”

  He reached for his dagger.

  “If it gets scratched, that’s not my problem,” he muttered. “The client can complain later.”

  Mana gathered along the blade as he stepped forward and drove it toward the vehicle’s frame.

  The barrier reacted instantly.

  The moment metal touched the red layer, the force reversed. The blade shattered. Fragments exploded outward as if fired from a cannon. A compressed shockwave followed.

  Abel barely had time to scream.

  Shards tore into his face and chest. His hand burst open, bones snapping under the recoil. The impact hurled him backward, his body slamming into the carriage behind him.

  “AAAAHH—!”

  He hit the floor hard and rolled across the stone, clutching ruined flesh, breath breaking apart as pain drowned everything else.

  The sedan remained untouched.

  The red aether shimmer faded, settling back into silence as if nothing had happened.