"We... are... guests too."
Blasius couldn't contain his grin as the words left his lips before he could stop himself.
Despite knowing that the CCTV cameras were functioning and his guards were in the way, he had never been a cautious person.
Spilling family secrets had never felt so good as it did right now, watching the man's shoulders drop. A 40th-floor player, a client and a guest. Someone he would probably never have another opportunity to make fun of.
For such a small man like Blasius, such actions were normal.
Performing as a the master of one of the biggest auctions in the tutorial.
Acting as a jokester for big fish in the outside world.
Grovelling at his father's feet and, in secret, torturing Psyche afterwards.
These actions were his only outlets.
They made him feel big.
Prove of it, only his insecurities and low self esteem gave him the necessary strength to gather enough oxygen to gloat.
"Our youngest... was personally... invited to the Black Gala."
-Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
'Vio… let?'
The frog man froze at the unexpected words.
He let go of Blasius' collar, absentmindedly.
His already throbbing headache was worsening with each passing second, but he still did not take his spare hand off the crystal.
"Gasp!"
Blasius, with his feet touching the ground unexpectedly, bent in half. His lungs burned and filled themselves desperately.
He turned to look at the smaller man gasping for air and swallowed the bile ascending through his throat. His eyebrows frowned under the mask at the bitter taste.
What kind of place was the Black Gala?
As the name suggested, a reunion of only the most renown businessman in the black market. Trafficking, drugs, smuggling even men who had one been influential political figures in the outside world... And among those was his own guild master.
What kind of man was his guild master?
An exceptional player who had reached the 50th floor with no backing in record time.
Someone who had taken control of the outlaw 30th floor in two years and established one of the most feared dark guilds on the first floors.
A man who now single-handedly controlled the human trafficking business for high-level players inside the tower.
And yet.
"Your... Youngest?"
A 12-year-old was in the same position as his guildmaster?
The ridiculousness of the statement momentarily woke him up from his previous trance.
"Your youngest?" He asked again, incapable of hiding his dumbfounded tone.
The Demitiou Family only had six children. Three sons and three daughters.
Adolphe, Adonia, Blasius, Basia, Cassia, and Cassiel.
There had been rumors about a seventh child, but even then, that child was said to have been born after Basia, months before Cassia. The bastard child was never recognized or acknowledged by the family anyway, and the timeline did not match.
Among those who were known, Adolphe had recently left the tower, and just like the poorly disguised brother in front of him, he wasn't a player, only an occasional tutorial visitor. And it would be preposterous to think that a ranker like Adonia would come down to the 50th floor just for any reason.
But neither Basia nor Cassia could be described as the "youngest" of the siblings; Basia was around 30 years old, and Cassia had never entered the tower, according to his intel.
So, the only possible person Blasius could be referring to was the middle school boy who had begun climbing the tower earlier this year.
'Ridiculous.'
"You're kidding."
It was impossible.
Was climbing to the 50th floor of the tower always such an easy feat?
And since when was a 12-year-old part of the social circle of the most powerful and dangerous people in the first 50th floors?
The absurd idea of it made him regain his clouded mind. As if hit by sudden epiphany, he even stumbled backwards.
Earlier, his condition had been abnormal.
But, of course, as a high-level player, he took upon himself a significant risk each time he climbed down to perform the mundane tasks his boss gave him. It wouldn't be baseless to assume that someone had disclosed his location to his enemies and set up a trap to poison or curse him at his worst.
He had to get this sorted out quickly and return to his guild; only then could he be sure of whatever had happened. Once he went back to the level he belonged in, the System would lift the restriction, and he could once again use the notification window to check on his state and see whether or not he had been infected with poison or if he was affected by a curse.
-Cough!
"I'm… not."
Blasius quickly regained his composure. He fixed his bunny mask and shirt, his eyes fixated on the remote still in the other man's possession, now unused.
The shorter man's eyes shone with greed. And he held his head high, straightening his back at once.
"Isn't... It... Very fitting?"
He inhaled deeply and put on the customer service smile of an experienced merchant.
Since the masked man was no longer using the device, Psyche would eventually awaken. Blasius had had his moment of petty vengeance, and even if he wasn't completely satisfied, he still had to close the deal.
'The more aware he is, the less his ability works.'
Whatever he did, giving that bastard an opportunity to turn the tables against him the way he had done with Adolphe was not something he would be willing to do. Never.
'I will deal with you later.'
"Ohoho!" He happily exclaimed, "Look at the time! Let us not deviate from our current transaction."
Like a coin flips sides, the small, robust man rapidly changed the conversation.
"We are, after all, esteemed guests of the Black Guild's master."
His smile only grew deeper and more pronounced the longer the other man stayed silent, still astonished. He built momentum and kept talking.
"And as it is mandatory, why not take this product as your gift to the guild master?"
"Isn't that why you're here anyway? Hm?"
That indeed was the reason. But somehow, he had forgotten all about his orders until now.
It was truly a strange thing.
The frog man shrugged and toyed with the remote in his other hand, lost in thought as the other man kept his business talk going.
The minimum requirement to receive an invitation was to be a 50th floor player. Something not even he, having spent a total of three years by his guildmaster's side, had accomplished.
'That brat did it in six months?'
It was a laughable guess. He didn't even remotely think that Blasius could be telling the truth, but there was no way of finding out until after the following month's gala.
A place where his master would have to take the stage and present a high-level artifact as a gift.
Said gift was supposed to be the angel the Demetrious' eldest daughter had obtained.
An angel.
As if struck by lightning for the second time in one day, the man's mind became erratic again. His thoughts scattered once more, flashes of greyish lights, purple tints, and magenta dyes occuping his very subconscious as he very slowly returned his gaze back to Psyche.
Who was now observing him, wide-eyed.
-Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Before they even knew it, the man in the frog mask had completely left Blasius' side.
And he was headed straight for Psyche.
* * *
The shadows shifted under the red lights, like a black hearth palpitating.
Too far away from the two men, the hazard lamps reached a corner where the corridor expanded towards more cells. There, the darkest of shadows… shone. Small sparks bursting into existence out of nowhere.
Suddenly, those sparks disappeared.
And reappeared some centimeters away.
Then again, and again.
Twinkling all the way down the corridor until it reached the exit.
[Warning! You have been restricted by the tower.]
[Your skills will be sealed in 30 seconds.]
The sparks regained intensity with each passing second, shining furiously despite their size.
Twenty seconds passed…Ten seconds…Then three… Two… One…
The space shook, resulting in even more sparks emerging somewhere in the air. Only the vacuuming sound of the cell's operating system could be heard in the hallway. Then, suddenly.
-Clank. Clank. Clank.
The sound of heels reverberated through the cold, empty cells. One after the other.
Then, almost about to exit the building, a tall, voluptuous woman materialized from thin air. She was wearing red wine robes and a black chain tied around her upper arm.
The fish mask the woman wore didn't look expensive or cheap.
And the eyes on it simply stared in two opposite directions, like those of a dead body.
Soon, the fish masked was replaced by a medical mask, the kind you would find in the outside world.
After that, the woman's long, silky hair was also hidden. This time, under a grey hood.
Finally, her eyes opened with a terrified gaze. The woman quickly tried to cover them as she exited the building with dark sunglasses.
But there was nothing to cover her trembling hands and the sweat dripping down her forehead.
'That child... The youngest of the six siblings...'
An apostle of God would be entering a sinners den.
She had to report this immediately to Her Majesty.