Well, that was a crazy experience to live through. Okay. Maybe the wrong choice of words. Looking down on my body I was more than sure I was dead. Pancaked between a white truck and wall. Not that I could fault the driver of the truck for that. He had the green light and just driving through the crossroad when that sports car came speeding by. That donkey tried to break but crashed into the truck. Pushing it slightly off the street. Just enough to aim for silly me waiting like a good pedestrian to cross when it was my turn. Split-second later, I was strawberry jam. Great.

Now I am hanging here. Kind of floating over this mess. As I gradually gained distance I knew it was time to say goodbye. Leon Barker was no more. I barely survived twenty-one years on this earth. Never would I finish that apprenticeship or any of the many strings of a plot that I called my life. Can't say goodbye to parents, siblings, or friends.

Gradually the sky darkens around me. It isn't the dusk. Well, maybe the dusk of my life. The earth fading to black. Leaving me with the question of what comes now. Floating without a body in the dark? Forever? Will there be heaven? Hell? Which religion is right? Will I find out?

A light appeared. Nothing more than a pinpoint of a beacon. Urging me. Giving me hope. I strain for it. Willing myself closer. There is no wind, yet I feel myself accelerate. Faster and faster. My hope is steadily growing bigger. Pushing back the darkness. At last, it takes shape. A rectangle? Is that an open door?

I land in a heap. Hey, don't expect me to nail a landing when given a body from one second to the next. The first thing I hear is a door shutting close. Not the slap of wood on wood, but the grind of stone. Giving a quick look I saw a slab of granite swing into place. No handle or knob. Something tells me I won't open that one by myself.

So, new life. New world. And oh boy, a new body. I curse as I unroll myself. New gender too. Could have done without that addition. Especially as I try standing up and have trouble finding my balance. Damn, I was visited by the boob fairy. Hard. Whose idea was it to give me freaking melons for chest decorations? I mean, I grew up as a straight boy. Believe me, I know to appreciate a great set of tits. Sorry, breasts. But these are too huge. Even my teenage self, who had a little less refined taste, would have found these too much.

Okay. Okay. They aren't the actual size of melons. Don't ask me about the cup size. Past D-cup for sure. I couldn't cover half of one with both my new hands. Granted, they were smaller and daintier than my old ones. Which doesn't matter, as they are in proportion to the rest of my new body. Not so those sweater puppies.

I was just about to check out when a woman came running into the room. Barely coming to a stop before me. Immediately her eyes grow huge.

"Those are big!"

Girl, you tell me? Imagine carrying these around. My own logic already tells me that these will get me much pain in my back and will probably be the first thing everyone notices. Damn, maybe the only thing.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Well, she was cute at least. Blushing like that. Okay, it looks like I am still into girls. As I am one myself now I guess I am batting for the other team now. Which is my old one? Damn, no one thought that idiom through. At least when a switch of gender is concerned.

"You are early by nearly a full bell. The head priestess isn't even here."

"You expected me?"

"Well, yes. Oh, this must be confusing to you. The priestess can explain that way better."

Okay. Put yourself in my shoes. Well, I am naked right now. Anyway. Pancaked against a wall. Died. New life. Poorly designed new body. Then the first person I met told me I was expected and I am too early. Sounds suspicious? Yeah, I think so too.

"How about you give me the cliff notes?"

"What are those?"

"A quick summarization. What the hell is going on?"

The girl tried to gather herself, but now and then her eyes got glued on my new biggest endowment. I had the feeling that would get old real soon for me.

"It's like that. You come from a different world, right? I think yours is called Earth. There are many worlds. Sometimes, fate determines that a being of great virtue comes to an early end. There are agents out there who intervene. Not to save them, but to grant them a new life in a world that needs their help. Most often as a hero."

Had you ever the feeling you are in the wrong movie? Playing a part not meant for you? Well, I have the paragon of that feeling right now. Me? A hero? Look, I wasn't a bad person in my last life. But was I of great virtue? Seriously doubt it.

"That doesn't sound like me at all."

The girl frowned. Pulling pieces of paper out of a folder and scanning through them.

"Marie Goldberg. Age twenty-six. University student. You jumped in front of a white truck to push a child off the road so it wouldn't be killed. Sacrificing yourself in the process."

"Oh, this is so wrong. The only right thing is that I was killed by a white truck. It was an accident and I was an unlucky bystander. An idiot rammed the truck and doomed me. My name is Leon by the way. Leon Barker. Or at least it was."

That girl honest to god gasped and her eyes grew wide. The shock was evident on her face. This didn't bode well. Just what the hell have I gotten into?

"Is Truck-kun okay?"

"Truck-kun?"

"That's the agent for Earth to send heroes over. He's the white truck that hit you by mistake."

What the-

I am at a loss for words.

Well, actually I said something like-

"I was killed by a magic truck?"

"Magic? No. Enlightened."

Could this day get any better? Killed by accident and now I learn that I took a heroine's place. Maybe that explains why I am a woman now.

"So, to recap. This body I now have was supposed to be hers and she is to be your chosen hero. Then why the hell would you give this body such enormous breasts. I mean, look at them. That can't be practical."

"Well-"

Uh oh. The girl looked honestly embarrassed. Shuffling her feet as if trying to find a way to tell bad news. Lay it on me. With the day I am having it can only fit right in, right?

"You see Marie, the one supposed to be here, she was always flat-chested. She dreamed of having a mighty bosom. So this was her reward. A thank you for coming here. B-but not to worry. Your strength, constitution, and dexterity stats should more than mediate any discomfort."

"My what?"

"Stats. Oh, right. You're from Earth. Earth doesn't have stats. This world is called Besona and every living being has stats - numbers - that describe how good they are at certain things."

Color me dumbfounded. This world was behaving like one of those stupid roleplaying games my younger brother always played on the PC? Great. Just great. I bet he would have the time of his life living here. Me? Big nope. How stupid is it to live your life governed by numbers? How abstract is that?

"That just sounds peachy. Look. Before we continue can I have something to wear? And please don't tell me I have to go to the countryside and go kill some gremlins or so. I always hated the concept of quests."

"Well, there are quests but why would anyone go on one for such a mundane thing. And what are gremlins? Oh! I got a jumpsuit with me. You can have it. I normally wear it if I need to do cleaning around here."

She lifted up her right arm and held her hand palm up. A second later a hologram appeared. I thought this world was fantasy. Well, I mean it is real. As real as those mountains of flesh hanging from my chest. Aren't holograms a different genre? Wait, I have to remind myself that this isn't a game. I can't judge this world by my knowledge from Earth.

"How do I take it?"

"Oh, you grab my hand as if for a handshake. We have to think about 'trading' at the same time to actually do so. Then it is yours."

"But I don't have anything."

"Exactly. We trade slots in your soul inventory. In mine is the jumpsuit. In yours there is nothing."

"We have inventories? This world is crazy."

If I offended the girl then she didn't show it. Shrugging I did as told. A second later we let go and that hologram followed my hand around. Trade complete I guess. But how do I let go of this hologram? I tried shaking my hand a few times, but that didn't help.

"So, how do I actually wear it?"

"Right. Think about your soul sheet and about your soul inventory. Both should open what we call windows. Because they are like display windows in a shop. I am not sure you have something similar on Earth."

I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Of course, we on Earth, have windows. A common computer term. But did she know that? Did this world have computers? I hoped so. Living in some medieval setting wasn't my kind of cup of tea.

It didn't take me long to make two more holographic displays appear. One was a grid of three by three boxes. Probably my inventory. Though each one was empty. Shifting the hologram of the jumpsuit into the inventory was easy enough. Just a simple thought really and it was done.

But instead of figuring out how to dress, the other display caught my eye. For the first time, I saw the new me. As a small representation slowly rotating around. Of course, the first thing I noticed again was my massive tits. Okay. I know. Language. Massive tits aren't the nicest thing to say to somebody. But listen, for one it was my new body we are talking about and second how else could I describe those globes stuck on my chest. From the outside, it was even more evident how wrong they looked on the lithe frame I now called my own. This wasn't just out of proportion.

Other details took a backseat. Jup, no dick anymore. That one is logical. Overall, I didn't look bad. Maybe even worthy of being a model if it wasn't for- Alright. Alright. I won't start on that again. My skin had some color to it. Couldn't tell if it was caucasian with a healthy tan or of a mixed-race origin. Kinda liked it. My eyes appeared to be very dark. Maybe brown. Hard to tell with such a small representation. I might need a while to get used to those long dark brown hairs of mine. Though so far I didn't notice them as my mind was on other things. Overall, my new body appeared to be athletic. With a healthy amount of body fat. Not rail thin like the models they threw in your face on Earth.

To the side, there were indeed numbers and stats. Most of them are between five and nine. There was a section for different types of magic, which made my heart beat faster. Magic was real here? Cool. I looked forward to learning a few spells. At least one thing this world had going for itself. Though most of my magic was one or two. Except for void-magic. Whatever that was. It stood apart with a thirteen.

Where was I? Right. Getting dressed. I can't believe I got distracted by stupid numbers. My focus shifted towards my inventory again and the picture that showed a miniature version of a jumpsuit. It wasn't hard to open a menu for it. The very first option was to equip it. Instant dressing? Sign me up. That could save some time in a few mornings. Aww, and when I think how much women normally wear I valued it even higher. Now that I was one myself.

As soon as I confirmed the picture switched displays. Showing on my person. But I barely noticed it as a small brown sphere appeared before me. It disintegrated into a mist that started to envelop me. Solidifying into a jumpsuit in a matter of seconds. Cool.

Then I cursed. Hard. Stupid jumpsuit had a boob window. You know. A deep cut-out to display one's breasts. Which ones again highlighted my new worst asset. But fate didn't smile on me one bit. The jumpsuit had a zipper reaching from the cut-out down to my crotch. I could see that with each breath I took the zipper slowly got undone. Of course, the zipper wasn't cut high enough to actually trap my monstrosities in their entirety. That would be too much to ask for I guess. At least the rest of the mud-brown jumpsuit fit. Amazingly so. As if it was made for me. It even had attached shoes. Sadly with a small heel of maybe one or one and a half inches. Because of course, it does.

"Thanks, I guess," I said just when more women arrived.

They looked fancy. Robes that were colorful and finely crafted. Hair braided. It was clear that they had dressed up. They clearly were surprised to see me, but the most flamboyant of them immediately stepped forward and addressed me.

"Marie, you already arrived. Myra should have told us. Welcome to Besona. We have been waiting for a hero like you to-"

"I am not Marie," I said to cut her off.

For a moment she looked perplexed and Myra - I guess that was the young priestess who found me first - used the moment to explain.

"Due to an accident Truck-kun send the wrong soul to us. This is Leron and-" "Leon." "Leon. And I've tried to explain a few things."

The big wig head-priestess took a step back and eyed me with a look of disgust. After a moment, she waved in my direction as if I was a pesky insect.

"Myra. Remove this accident. I am sure Truck-kun will deliver us the chosen hero on time and we can't confuse Marie with her presence."

Oh, the nerve of that woman. I was ready to jump at her throat. Who said I even wanted to be here? It certainly wasn't my fault that I was. And now she wanted to discard me like unwanted trash? A harsh reply was already on my lips when I thought better of it. You know what? I don't even want to be a hero. May Marie have a go at it. She probably ends up in a body as ridiculous as mine, but at least she will be happy. She wished for those mounts on her chest. As soon as she is run over by a white truck she'll get them.

I gave that head-'witch' a last poisonous look and stormed out of the room. Time to get out of here and find a spot to actually think. This world was rushing over me with all this strangeness and threatened to drown me. I need space to process it all in my own time.

Outside the room was a hallway. One that I had crossed halfway when I noticed someone shouting my name. Glancing behind me I saw Myra running to catch up to me. Not that I stopped for her. I was too angry to do so. All my annoyance since coming here had built up and now that it had exploded I didn't care to rein it back in.

"Look," Myra said between huffs as she caught up. "The head-priestess doesn't like surprises. Please don't take it personally. Despite that, you can still become a great hero. I believe that-"

"I don't want to be a hero!"

My harsh reply cut Myra off as intended. Maybe it was unfair. The young priestess had tried to explain everything as best as she could. She had actually given me a warm welcome. But right now my blood was boiling. Strange how things can be. It was a trait I carried over from my old life. In time I would cool off. Might even apologize. But now I was happy to just walk away.

The long hallway ended and I left for a big open court. Pristine landscaped grass, bushes, and trees. This looked more like the pleasure garden of an aristocrat. Beyond I saw buildings that looked modern. Maybe even comparable to modern Earth. For a moment I was stumped. If they had such architecture why did I arrive in a barren room of stone? Looking back, I saw a temple made of granite or similar. Part of the edges had been rent down by centuries of wind and weather. Clearly, this building had stood the tides of time for quite a while.

Myra mistook my hesitation for an opening to reason with me.

"I bet we can find a place for you. We just have to take a look at your stats and figure out where you fit in best."

I gave a deep sigh. Right. Might as well get over it. Not that I was in the mood for it, but a small voice whispered that I might end up homeless if I don't turn something up. Maybe I could become an apprentice with room and board somewhere. And maybe, just maybe, I could find an outfit that doesn't make me look like an escaped stripper.

"I already looked. They are between five and nine for my physical ones." Couldn't help to say it a bit smugly. I mean on a scale from one to ten taking up the upper half isn't bad, right? Probably got good stats because this was a body supposed to be for a hero.

"Oh! Uh-"

"Oh? What's that supposed to mean?"

Myra shuffled nervously with her feet and looked down. Avoiding my gaze. That was until I actually crouched down to show her my angry look.

"You see- Ten is the average. Heroes normally range from fifteen to twenty."

Insert a string of colorful curses. I can't repeat all of them. Admittedly, it wasn't my finest moment. But it was yet another instance of the universe screwing with me. Great, so I was a weakling too. Just peachy. At least I had one hope.

"Well, I don't want to run through the fields and beat up monsters anyway. How about magic? I think some are a no-go as I have a zero in them. But others are one or two."

The moment Myra winced I knew it was another dud. Then her words nailed the coffin that buried my dreams.

"One and two's are mundane. Most magical professions only hire those with six or higher."

"Well, there we go. I have a thirteen in void magic. Whatever that is."

"You have-" Myra's face came alive as if I just gifted her a basket full of the cutest puppies. Did they have puppies in this world? Dogs in general? I hoped so. With my luck probably not. Where was I?

"Thirteen? That is brilliant!" Myra actually jumped me and gave me a hug. A rather awkward one, as two big things came in the way. Yes, I am ranting about that again. Fine. Let's move on.

"You can be a void-trader. Thirteen? That is unheard of. Most people don't even have one point of aptitude in void-bartering. The guild of void-traders is desperate to find young blood to fill their ranks. I'll send you to the local trade hub. Please tell them that I send you. Damn. Thirteen? The bounty would be thirteen hundred void-favors then."

Are you confused? I am. What is she on about? None of what she said made sense.

"Hold on. I thought I was supposed to become a mage. What's that about trading and bartering."

For a moment, Myra looked like a young girl caught with a hand in a cookie jar. Whatever void-favors are, she clearly got excited about it. She took a few deep breaths to calm down before explaining.

"We call them void traders because that's what they do. They give items to the void and receive favors in return. Those favors they can exchange for new items."

"They destroy and create items?" I scratched my head. Trying to make sense. "Is this void some kind of deity? An entity someone can talk to?"

"Uh, no. Look, the local void-traders can probably explain it better. Let me give you a map."

She opened her hand and a hologram appeared. I half expected her to trade with me again, but instead, a small ball appeared and turned to mist. Just like my jumpsuit, an actual map appeared and the hologram vanished. Okay, I've got to admit. That aspect of this strange new world appeared to be useful.

"This is the temple complex." Myra pointed to one point of the city after unfolding the map. Then she indicated a place on the opposite side of the city. "This is the void-trader hub. Just walk to a counter and tell them you want to become a void-trader. They'll sort you out. Oh, shit."

Myra had spotted something behind me and I just had to turn around. Leaving the temple was a small group of colorful women. The priestesses. But one of them stood out. I wasn't the only one in this world with a ridiculous bosom anymore. Guess Marie found her way into this world too. Congratulations on being hit by a white truck. I hope you do better here than I did.

Then I noticed her clothes. Of course, they had dressed her up. And I got only a lousy jumpsuit a junior priestess normally uses for cleaning duties. In the blink of an eye, I was furious again.

"Time to get out of here."

Once again I stormed off. In the direction that I hoped would be the exit. I heard Myra say "Probably for the best." A moment later she shouted after me. "I believe in you. Oh, and remember to tell them I send you."

Well, that was at least one person. To be honest, right now I wouldn't bet on me. I must admit I was doing rather poorly. Dealing with a new world, crazy rules, a new body, and a new gender. Not to mention-

Hey, I didn't mention them. So all good, right? Anyway. I stuck out like a sore thumb walking out of the temple complex. At least no one stopped me. But I got looks. Many of them. I felt so out of place as if I was a clown trying to entertain at a funeral. Alright, that was a bad comparison.

Moving on. In the literal sense. The city itself wasn't what I was expecting. The buildings outside reminded me of eighteen-century England, but all modernized to fit into today's landscape. On Earth mind you. I couldn't spot electricity or a single car. Instead, I saw many wonderful applications of what I could only describe as magic. Things that needed moving did so as if specters themselves willed them so. Chariots drove through the streets on their own. No horses, or even one who steered them. Most other pedestrians walked around at a leisurely pace, but I kid you not, I saw a few floating by at a brisk pace. It all was a wonderland of strange things to witness.

Once I secured my future I was sure to explore more. For now, I hurried through the streets. If Myra was right, those void-traders would love to get me. Maybe even enough to give me proper clothes. I was tired to stop every other minute to pull that zipper up. Seriously, it is only a matter of time before an accident happens and I truly make a spectacle of myself.

Arriving at the outskirts, the trader hub was hard to overlook. I spotted a large square building with long lines of people waiting to get in. And I thought getting a new iPhone was hard. As I got closer I noticed a field behind the building. Filled with strange-looking houses. They actually looked kind of futuristic. All curvy and stuff. Too small for a family, but maybe big enough for one person. It got me curious, but for now, I had to stand in line. I got enough angry looks to even dare to ask to cut in. Great. Standing in line it was.

To my surprise, the lines move faster than I anticipated. It took only an hour to reach a counter. Behind the glass, a young man is impatiently waiting for me to step forward. So I do.

"A priestess called Myra send me-"

"I don't care. Goods on the counter or leave. We ain't got all day."

How rude.

"I want to become a void-trader."

"Recruitment day is Herbday in two rotations. Next."

I was pushed aside by the next customer who dumped a sack on the counter. What the hell was that? I can't believe how they treat people here. Did I really want to join such a bunch of uncivilized assholes? Then again, I was homeless if I didn't. At least, according to Myra, I had an ace up my sleeve.

"My void aptitude is thirteen."

I nearly shouted it out and the crowd fell silent. For a few heartbeats, nothing happened. They all looked at me. Eventually, the clerk caught himself.

"S-say again?"

"Thirteen. Does that get your attention or do I have to look for another trader hub to take me in?"

The man practically fell out of his chair to rush to a nearby door. Waving me to come in. "I do hope you don't pull a joke on me," he murmured before dumping a be-right-back sign on the counter. To the loud protest of those waiting in the line. Eat that suckers. That's what you get for being rude to me.

The clerk rushed me through the building. Damn, slow down. Some do try to avoid a wardrobe malfunction. At last, we arrive at a big office. I was practically shoved through the door and had to do a double-take. Behind the desk wasn't an immaculately groomed pencil pusher. Instead, I got a woman in her thirties dressed like Jack Sparrow. You know that pirate from Disney. Just gender-bend. And with bleached blond dreads.

"She claims to have an aptitude of thirteen."

The woman gave a hearty laugh. Damn. What do I have to do for anyone to take me seriously?

"Oh, Hovis. Good joke, but I don't have time for it. Aren't you on counter duty?"

"Listen, lady," I cut in before they started some banter. "I had a crappy day. First, I died. Then I was thrown into this world with crappy stats and a ridiculous body. The only thing I have going for me is an aptitude of thirteen in whatever void-magic is. Take it or leave it, but don't waste my time."

That got her attention. All of it. Leaning forward, she got a hungry look in her eyes. One I didn't like. I felt like a gazelle at a water hole just noticing that a starving lion had snuck up on me. Is it too late to flee?

"Hovis? Shoo." She waved the clerk off without even looking. Her eyes riveted on me. "Bold words. May I have your character card?"

Character card? What? Why do I always have to do the catching up here? Annoyed I put my hands on my hips and glared at her.

"What about I am new to this world is so hard to understand? You really think I stopped by somewhere and got business cards printed?"

She gave another hearty laugh which only fanned the flames of my annoyance. Then, instead of explaining, she held up her hand. In her palm appeared a small card. A hologram, of course. At least, now I was on somewhat familiar territory. Just like Myra had shown me and gave her a handshake. Willing a trade. Yet when I withdrew my hand there wasn't the hologram of the card. Instead, a display hovered there. Just like the one that had shown me my stats and mini-me. But this display showed an Iren Langstan. Her stats were higher than mine which got me a pang of jealousy. Even her magic was higher. Except for void magic. My thirteen beat her seven. After around thirty seconds the display started to disintegrate. Until I only held up air.

"All you have to do is to think about creating a card. The world will create on for you."

I gave her a short annoyed frown and then tried. Sure enough, a holographic card appeared. One I traded immediately to Iren.

"Damn. The gods really handed you shitty stats. Except- Yes! Void is indeed thirteen. Do you know how amazing that is? The last trader with such an aptitude walked this earth centuries ago. I'd be happy to teach you the void trader profession."

Iren held out both of her hands. Palms up. A little confused I decided to mimic her. Only for Iren to place her hands on mine. Another hologram appeared - because of course it does - and I could read "Iren Langstan offers to teach the void trader profession. Accept?". There was no button or so to press. Instead, I sort of thought about how I wanted to accept and poof. The hologram explored many small lights. All rushing towards me. My body felt a little warm where they hit me, but aside from that, I felt fine.

"Welcome to the trader community!"

I got another hug. Nope. This one was awkward too.

"Girl the gods were a little overeager blessing you in that department. Anyway. Now that you are on board so many possibilities open up. An aptitude of thirteen. With that, you can skip years of boring stuff and go right for the fun part. Oh, I have the perfect place for you. You'll help me to slay a few Hounshack in one fell swoop. Come. Walk with me."

"I am not really for fighting. Or hunting."

Iren waved me off while walking past me. "Not with those stats. Don't worry. We traders don't fight. And it was an Idiom we have here on Besona."

While walking out, I decided it was time to get a few more answers. I was now a trader. Yay! But what exactly entailed that?

"So, can you explain to me what a void trader is? A priestess tried to explain it to me, but I didn't totally get it. Something about destroying and creating things."

"Many have trouble understanding the concept. The void isn't nothing. It is potential not realized. One could describe it as a mirror to our world. Here everything has substance. It is material. Calcified into their own form. If we give something over to the void it loses its material substance. But the potential isn't lost."

By now reached the ground floor of the building and exited to the field behind it. Iren walked towards the middle of the field with the many small houses on it.

"Dealing with the void is all about balance. If we give to the void then we can also take. To draw on the unused potential to solidify them into a new form. Traders can't take more than they give. As a community mind you. If we give something to the void we receive a currency. We call it void-favors. That currency can be given to the mundane. They, in turn, can use it with any other void-trader. Those then can use the currency to draw items from the void."

"I think I understand. A void-trader can give items that aren't needed or useful anymore. Then receive items that are needed."

"Exactly! You learn fast. Now. Look around you." Iren waved with a flourish at the small futuristic-looking buildings around them. "We call them Little Mules. Getting their hands on one of them is the goal and dream of every void-trader apprentice out there. But with your potential, you can skip that. Choose one. Any of them. It is yours. Well, not the green one over there or that brown one. Those are taken."

Finally! Something going to plan. My own house. That's a worthy welcome gift to a new world. Granted, they're a bit small. But I don't mind. A cozy home can be exactly what one needs, right? Damn, they all looked so sleek. Honestly, I have a hard time deciding. Wish you could see it. Ah, over there. One of them has this fantastic combination of metallic navy blue and brass-colored accents. I wouldn't say it's love at first sight, but close.

"That one."

"Good choice. Come. Let's take a closer look."

We entered through a small door at the side. Silently gliding to the side. Let's be honest, didn't expect that from a fantasy-like world with magic. But many of the things I saw in the last few hours broke my expectations. This reminded me more of some futuristic fiction.

Stepping in, I was due for my first surprise. The ground floor was actually a showroom. A small one. To one side was a small counter and cash register. Strange, it sort of pointed to the wall. The other walls were lined with shelves.

Pushing past me, Iren walked up some stairs that I hadn't noticed yet. Curious, I followed. The second floor opened up to a small living room that doubled as a dining room. One corner was taken up by a small kitchenette. I could see a small bathroom with a shower to my right and a small separated bedroom up ahead.

Alright, maybe a little smaller than I had anticipated, but still I think I can make this work. Creating a cozy little home. Better than living on the street by far. Iren came out of a small room I hadn't been in yet. I only saw a big window when Iren demanded my attention.

"Make yourself comfortable. Relax. I'll send someone to teach you the basics in a full bell or two. Your first responsibility will be Kingswood Forrest. They only require basic trades."

With those words, Ines slipped out of the room and walked down the stairs. Leaving me to process her words. Wait, did she say I have to take care of some Forrest? Do I have to leave soon? Just when I got a new home?

"Iren!"

I jumped to catch up to her, but when I was on top of the stairs I saw her slip out of the door. I took two steps at once to get down fast. Just to have the front door slide close in front of my face. Damn. How does someone open this thing? Why can never anything go right in this stupid world? Ah, there. Button. It doesn't work? Is there some trick to it?

Wait? Did the floor just vibrate? Is the floor tilting a little or am I just imagining things? I need a window. Time to get up the stairs again. The room Iren had come from had a big one.

Rushing up, I barely got there in time to see Iren in the middle of the field. Fifty freaking feet below me. Holy shit! I am flying! This is not a house! Time for panic. Seriously. What the hell is going on? Are those controls? Wait, is this a cockpit? Shit. Now I get it. Little Mules are some kind of aircraft. It makes a lot of sense to call those Little Mules than houses. Damn, I so could kick my own butt right now.

How does one steer this thing? I don't wanna. That's not one of my talents. Heck, it took me less than five seconds to crash the new drone my friend Brian once got. How am I to survive that. Oh, there. Autopilot. Great. Not going to crash. At least that is something. But I have no idea how to change the destination. Damn, I am even too scared to try figuring it out. Outside I can see the town rushing by. Why do I have the sinking feeling I will soon see Kingswood Forrest in person?

Slowly I fought the panic back. Serves me right for trusting anyone in this stupid world. It feels like I am rushing from one ass-kicking to the next. Dejected, I stumbled back into my new living room. Plopping down on the couch. Time to pout and curse the world. Be right back.

...

...

You still there? Sorry. It is all a little overwhelming. Here is at least something. I found ice cream. The little kitchenette has a fridge and freezer. Most of the contents look foreign, to say the least. Shouldn't be a shock, you know? A different world and such. I can't expect potatoes and a steak dinner waiting for me. At least, the ice cream isn't so bad. Can't tell what it is made of, but kinda tastes like cherry. I tried parking the ice cream container on my massive chest. Thought it might be good for at least something. Big mistake. Too cold. Don't recommend it.

"Hey there!"

Holy freaking shit! I nearly spilled my ice cream all over. There's a woman in my living room. Last time I checked my Little Mule was still flying. How did she get here? Wait. Is she a hologram?

"What are you? Some kind of onboard ship A.I.?"

The woman looks at me as if I said something strange. Granted, I probably did.

"I am not whatever you said. Is that something from your world? I am Essie. A second-year void-trader apprentice. Iren send me to-"

"Iren! Tell her, next time I see her I will kick her butt. Springing this on me without telling me anything. Not even an explanation."

Ups. Scared Essie enough that she took two steps back. Not that I can hurt her. She's a hologram. Right?

"Well, that's what I am here for. To show you the basics."

"I am not sure how much time you have for that. Iren set me on a course for Kingswood Forrest - wherever that is - and I don't have the faintest clue how to actually be a void trader."

"Well, how about we get downstairs and we get started?"

Sighing I got up. Stuffing my ice cream in the freezer first. I swear I'll come back to it later. It won't survive the day. Grumpy me followed Essie downstairs. Venting my frustration out loud.

"So, you will teach me knowledge of two years of apprenticeship in a span of a few hours? Sounds impossible."

"Oh, there isn't much theory behind it. Mostly, it is training one's proficiency. Is it true? Your aptitude is thirteen?"

"Yep."

"Wow. Okay. You see, many steps in void-trading take time. The aptitude determines how long. Getting faster is one of the main focuses of apprenticeship. Mine is just two and I bet you'll be faster than I am. Even with a two-year headstart."

I nodded. Maybe that is what Iren did mean with going right to the fun stuff. I get to skip long waiting times.

Downstairs, I got a second look at the small showroom. The counter still didn't make sense. Being built the wrong way that is. Shrugging, I decided to ignore it. For now at least. The shelves looked strange too. More like an array of rectangular wooden frames. They weren't as empty as I had previously thought. I saw a few items displayed in them. A knife, sword, bow, and arrows. But not as physical objects. They too were holograms.

Essie waved me over to a machine that I had previously overlooked. It was halfway sunken into the wall. How to describe it best? Big box, with a few rectangles. No buttons or display.

"This is the heart of the Little Mule. The research bench. It connects to every system. But the most important component is you. If you take ownership then the ship becomes an extension of yourself."

"As in it can read my mind?"

"Yes," Essie said with a resolute nod. "But only your subconsciousness. Some owners learn to flip a light switch or so, but not much more. The important part is the connection of your magic and your soul inventory. The ship becomes an extension of both. You know about soul-inventories, right? Good. All these shelves around you are connected to the Little Mule and once you become the owner you can access them as easily as your own soul-inventory. With the bridge between your magic and the Little Mule you have access to your research and void-trading from any spot in of the ship."

Urgh. Information overload again. I know this is a new world, but still, it is a lot. Then again, I felt this was important.

"Maybe I should connect and then you can show me some practical examples?"

"Good idea. Just place your hand on that rectangle on your left and accept the prompt."

That sounded easy enough. As soon as I placed my hand, you guess it, a hologram display appeared. "Do you take ownership of Little Mule #7427?" I willed it yes and immediately things changed. It is hard to describe, but I was connected alright. I knew where I was on the ship. Close my eyes and spin me around. Wouldn't change a thing. I knew, without a doubt, that aside from Essie the ship was empty. I was alone here. I was aware of every room. Heck, I swear I could even faintly feel the wind rushing by on the outer hull of the Little Mule. My Little Mule.

Opening my soul inventory I saw more than my initial three slots. Each shelf had its own display. Most of them were empty, but I saw the few items again that I noticed earlier.

"That is something," I had to admit out loud.

"You don't know how jealous I am right now. We apprentice only work with a small fixed workbench."

"Sorry."

Well, not really. But the sentiment counts, right?

"Alright. Let's move on. For you to craft anything you have to open your crafting display."

"Just thinking about it will open it, right?"

What can I say? Slowly I am getting the hang of this world. Not by choice mind you but by necessity. A thought later and a new holographic display appeared. It mostly showed a structured list with a lot of categories. Different options to sort through it and even a search bar. All arranged in a neat little UI. There was only one problem.

"It's empty. Shouldn't I have some basic items?"

"That is the most important lesson. You start with nothing. It means you have to obtain a blueprint for each item you want to create. And here most who learn the void-trader profession make their first false assumption. If you give an item to the void you do not get automatically the corresponding blueprint. You have to research it."

"That's why this ship has a research bench and we are standing beside it."

"Correct!"

It sort of made sense. Iren had said the void trader profession is all about balance. One mechanic was that you can't get more out of the void than you put in. Now I think I discovered the second one. I can't just freely get whatever item I want. Instead, I have to work for it.

"Grab an item off your shelf," Essie prompted me. "Then we get you started."

I retrieved the hologram for the bow and immediately noticed that something was different.

"What is that number below? There wasn't one when a priestess gifted me this jumpsuit."

"I guess that was before you became a void-trader. The number is the value of void-favors you get for handing this item over to the void. It is also the same amount you need to pay if you create a copy from the void. Provided you have learned the blueprint first. Now, with a thought, you can transfer it to the research bench."

I did and a split second later the hologram shifted to one of the research bench's rectangles. A progress bar appeared beside it and more details were written below.

"Two and a half bells? That is fast. Mine still takes the better part of a day."

"Bells? I heard that before. Is that what hours are called here?"

"What are hours?"

Shush. Don't say anything. I know. I walked right into that one. Listen. It was a long day. Give me some slack.

"A measurement of time. So, this is it. Put it in there and then I just wait?"

I mean, if you know me then you know I have nothing against being lazy. But this sounded even lame for me. And cheaty. What did void-traders do all day? Sit on their butt and twiddle thumbs?

"You can. I mean with that speed you don't really need it." Essie looked wistfully at the display. "The speed can be accelerated through meditations of the void-trader. Remember, you are subconsciously connected to it. What you do affects the progress. For a new void-trader with an aptitude of one or two, it might take days or even longer than a rotation for one item to complete."

Look, let me cut you off right there. No, I am not going to ask what a rotation is. Probably another stupid term of time measurement. With so much information bombarding me, I have to filter out what is important. This can wait.

"I guess this process is kind of fair. This way we void-traders don't push regular crafters out of the market. They can always strife to create new or better items."

"Well-" Essie gave me a grin that would make a cat who caught a canary jealous. "You see if we acquire the blueprint for an item and leave it in the research bench then it tries to create a blueprint of a better or altered form. The technicalities to explain are hard. Your subconsciousness plays a big role. It sort of shifts through the void for potentials that are relevant to the item. Each additional step also increases the time the research bench needs."

Oh my gosh. It is cheaty! The best kind of cheaty! Damn, now my mind was racing on how to exploit the system. What could I potentially put in there that will help me in the long run? Are you thinking what I am thinking? Suddenly I wanted nothing more than strip out of my jumpsuit and put it in there. Maybe an upgraded version equals one that actually covers my new breasts and has a zipper that goes up all the way.

Hey, what can I say? It bothers me, okay? I am stuck on a ship going nowhere fast and all I have is one stupid jumpsuit that doesn't cover the one part I really want it to cover. Wait a moment. Maybe I was too hasty. If someone stocked the fridge then surely they would fill the wardrobe a bit, right?

"Looks like I will have all the blueprints by tomorrow morning. Maybe even an upgraded version or two."

"Oh! I forgot to mention something. This research bench has two slots. With a little dedication and your high aptitude you can have variants of all your stock."

At once, the urge to strip naked and shove the jumpsuit into the research bench came back. Of course, I won't do it in front of Essie, but as soon as she was gone- For now, I put the arrows in the second slot. Goes with the bow. But now it was time to get through this.

"Okay, I think I got researching and crafting down. What else do I need to know?"

"Oh, we are nearly done. You can will any item that is in soul-inventory form into the void. As I said, you get the displayed amount as void-favor back. The currency itself is soul-inventory only. It doesn't have a physical body. Don't try to materialize it. It won't work."

"Alright. But I have a question. If the amount that goes into the void and out is equal how does a trader turn a profit?"

"Right. Here your customers come in. You see, people will come to you to void items for them. You can determine a small cut of the returning amount. The rest goes to the customer. They then can use those void-favors to buy items from you or other void-traders. Be aware, most people know roughly how much an item is worth. Even if they don't see the value themselves. Especially for items, they voided before or are very common."

Alright. That made sense and actually sounded right up my alley. Nothing strenuous or dangerous. My new body with those abysmal stats certainly wasn't up for that. Sit in my little ship and be lazy? That I could do.

"Got it. What else?"

"That's actually it. I mean it goes without saying that you can mark up the items you sell a little. Aside from that, all you need to know is that you'll touch down tomorrow at Kingswood Forrest. A small clearing frequently used by hunters and adventurers. By sending you Iren fulfills a contract that benefits the guild. Don't worry. You won't be stuck there for long. It is only for a rotation. After that, you can choose to stay or find a new spot."

"Thanks, Essie. You are the first one to actually take the time and explain things to me. Don't know how to repay you for that."

Essie gave me a short chuckle. Wait, was she laughing with me or about me?

"Listen, Leon. We are traders. Nothing we do is for free. Iren hired me to mentor you. The first ten full bells are on her. After that, I am charging you."

"She did? Maybe she isn't as bad and heartless as I thought she was."

"Girl, she has your back. That Little Mule you call your own has a price tag of two hundred and fifty thousand void-favors. And she paid it out of her own pocket."

Oh fuck. It looks like I misjudged her. Damn, Iren really has my back. But a little voice in the back of my head ones to know what she gets out of it.

"Wow. Yeah. Very generous. But I have the feeling it won't be totally free in the end. As you said, we are traders."

"Obviously. Expect her to now and then show up and hold it over your head. Pressuring you into fulfilling contracts for her like the one for Kingswood Forrest right now."

"I think I can live with that."

"Great. Well, I'll be off for now. Don't hesitate to call me if you have more questions. I left my details on the ship's central heart. No, wait. Don't call after sundown. I am not available at night."

"Will do. Oh, wait. Before you go. A priestess named Myra referred me to the void-trader guild. I think there is a bounty."

Of course, I hadn't forgotten about Myra. Yes, she had rushed me off to a guild with barely an explanation and I got sort of kidnapped through that. But honestly, I think she wants what's best for me. With me flying off to some random forest, who knows when I will see her again. I hadn't even time to apologize for my rude behavior before or thanked her properly. I hope at least the bounty will find its way to her.

"I will remind Iren. By for now."

"Bye."

And just like that, I was alone. Flying towards a strange new future. Well, time to finish that ice cream. No, wait. Clothing. There must be something better on this ship than this vexing jumpsuit. Rushed up to the living room. Well, started to run and then stopped because of too much movement upfront. That will take some time to get used to.

A quick search of the living room and the sleeping quarter revealed a new nightmare. Who the hell stocks a fridge and freezer, but doesn't anything else. Granted I had one set of bedsheets. And thank whatever deity this world had that they invented toilet paper. Though I don't know how long the one roll I had would last.

Now I guess you will point out that I can put that role on the research bench and a few hours later I got an unlimited supply of TP. Well, that is provided I earn a few void-favors tomorrow. Right now I am broke. Flying through the night in a quarter-million void-favor ship, but I have not a single one to my name. Yes, the irony isn't lost on me.

With nothing better to do, I sat down in the cockpit for a while. Watching the landscape rush by. It was interesting. A new world. I saw strange trees rush by and gazed upon roaming monsters and exotic animals. It held my fascination until dusk.

I guess it was time to sleep. Only to torture me for hours. Girls and women I beg for forgiveness. Sleeping with breasts is a pain in the ass. Or back. No, wait. I am mixing idioms there. I normally sleep on the side, but this way one giant breast crushed another one. It was distracting as hell. Rolling on my back brought more comfort, but it was not a position I was used to. I rolled around for hours with no sleep in sight.

That was until it happened. No, not me falling asleep. I just knew the research on the bow was done. I really was connected to the ship. A few moments later, for the arrows. That reminded me of my quest for better chest coverage. Grabbing my jumpsuit I walked downstairs naked. What? I doubt another hologram of someone would appear in the middle of the night. Okay, with my luck it certainly was possible. Gonna risk it anyway. For the greater good! (of me)

After retrieving the bow and arrows, I plopped in the jumpsuit. Of course, after converting it into the soul-inventory form. Now, what to throw into the second slot. The sword or the knife? Wait. How long would the food in the fridge last? Priorities, Leon, Priorities. I quickly retrieved my ice cream from the freezer and converted it to the soul-inventory form. "Half-eaten Papush ice cream", huh? Guess Papush was the fruit that kind of tasted like cherry.

With a little luck, I would have not only a jumpsuit blueprint and its upgrade but a steady flow of ice cream. Provided I didn't suck as a trader. Judgment was out for that one. Time to try to sleep again. Wish me luck.

...

...

Good morning. You still there? Good. A brand new day. Still a woman in a strange new world. Believe me, I half hoped to wake up in the hospital and someone explaining to me that I had a coma-dream or something. But I guess the chances for that are low. My old body really was pancaked good by that truck.

My night was shitty. Didn't sleep much. Thanks for asking. Well, I assume you did. I knew with certainty that the ship had landed somewhere, but walking out of my small bedroom I saw it confirmed through the cockpit window. The autopilot had managed to land safely in a large clearing that was crowded with tents. At least, I hope it landed safely. I'd hate to step outside and find a half-crushed tent under my Little Mule. I guess that wouldn't be a good advertisement.

The first priority was to get dressed. Time to head downstairs to the research bench. I knew instinctively that the process had finished a few times, but I didn't know the actual result. I surely hope it was good. Of course, once downstairs I noticed the error in my logic. The actual blueprints are on my crafting screen. Not on the research bench. Still, I retrieved my half-eaten ice cream and the trice-cursed jumpsuit. Then plopped in the dagger and sword. Might as well get it over with. One of my customers might request one of them later.

I immediately voided the jumpsuit and then the ice cream. What? I need the void-favor to get the better version out of the void, right? Time to look into my crafting menu.

Yes, I saw a few items crowding my blueprint library. It was far from full, but a start. There was my old jumpsuit. Okay. Showing the middle finger to an item in a holographic display was childish. Sue me. I don't care. The next version surprised me. "Papush colored jumpsuit?" Can research slots influence each other? Not the mud-brown anymore, but still the same used style. And the next item is-

Oh, you've got to be kidding me. "Sexy jumpsuit" and right after "Papush colored sexy jumpsuit". This didn't bode well. I mean this isn't just me, right? This world has it out for me. Always on the hunt for opportunities to humiliate me. Still, maybe the sexy version is better? No, I am not holding my breath for that one. Still, gotta try, right? I crafted a "Papush colored sexy jumpsuit" from the void. Might as well find out what color Papush actually is. That's such a stupid name. Papush. If this was a story someone was writing I seriously would doubt their skill.

A moment later I held the "Papush colored sexy jumpsuit" as a hologram in my hand. Time to summon it and see what it got me. Again a ball appeared out of thin air. This time it was pink instead of brown. More on the pastel side. Just like before it turned to mist and rushed towards my body. Gradually building around me to reveal-

Oh, come on! I didn't expect much, but this? The necklines plunges down even deeper. How are my twins even staying inside the jumpsuit? And all these cut-outs. This version has half the fabric the original has. I look like a stripper. A cheap one! The version that spent all her money on a boob job and hadn't the bucks left for real clothes.

Nope. Just nope. Back to mist and ball with that thing. To the void with it. I can't believe this really happened. The only good aspect I could glimpse from it was the color. Papush appears to be saturated pastel pink. Not my usual choice of color, but I was tired of that mud-brown. When I crafted the original jumpsuit I did it in the Papush version.

Before going about my day, I rushed upstairs to shower and eat breakfast. Another small adventure. Not the showering. Aside from the fact that I had to relearn how to properly soap myself up. I bet there are a few more essential aspects I have to learn later. I hope Essie was up to teach some embarrassing womanly stuff. Not just trader stuff.

No, it was the breakfast that had me doing double-takes. Let me tell you all this food looks strange. Tastes even stranger. I settled on something that might be the equivalent of cornflakes and milk. Big mistake. It tasted like brown gravy with small chunks of cucumber. Just weird. Still ate it. I mean, I didn't want to try yet another strange food.

Time to start my first day as a trader. What can go wrong? No, don't remind me of my track record. Or the fact that the whole stock of my shop was one bow and a few arrows. My amount of void-favors equaled a half-eaten portion of ice cream. Just peachy. I mean from here on out it only can go upward, right?

Of course, now that I wanted to open my shop I was reminded of my problem with the counter in my showroom. Namely that it was the wrong way around. Maybe I can push it around? Nope. Bolted to the floor. Great start. Really. Wait, what is that button for?

Oh, one of the walls is lowering. It's a ramp! Now I get it. The ramp is the official opening to the public and the counter is actually next to the ramp. Smart. I guess it was more like a pop-up store and less like a showroom. These shelves are not open to the public.

I already could see a crowd gathering around when the ramp was halfway down. Oh boy, they would be in for a disappointment. Still, time to get into character. Sit down behind that counter and give them my most winning smile. Wait. With this new body, how did my most winning smile even look like?

The ramp had barely touched the ground when a hunter stepped on it. It was obvious what he was. Dressed in leather and a box on the back.

"Damn I am glad you are here. It's been ages since a void-trader had-"

Why did he stop mid-sentence and mid-ramp? Hello? Did something break inside your head? What are you staring at? Oh, you've got to be kidding me. They aren't that big. Okay. They are. Still, to freeze like that. Not smooth. Not to mention annoying.

Time to call him out on it. Wait. Never mind. A woman behind him pushed him aside. With a smirk, she walked up to me.

"Damn girl, how much Honeyfirn did your mother feed you as a child? She kind of overdid it."

Great. Just Great. I expected stupid stuff from men. Not from women too. Wait a moment. Do they have stuff to make breasts grow larger? Maybe there is the opposite around too. A glimmer of hope. I never would have thought to say something like that but what wouldn't I give to have a nice pair of average-sized breasts. Well, food for thought at a later time. I had customers.

"Very funny. Believe it or not, they are all-natural."

"Oh come one, I wasn't born yesterday. You expect us to believe that?"

"I was. Born yesterday that is."

That shut her up good. Great. The second person to freeze solid on my ramp.

"Can we trade now? If not, there is a long line behind you."

Ah, fuck. Now I have become as rude as the clerk at the trade-hub. Now I know why he was so annoyed with me. If you have a long line waiting and one clown is holding everyone up it is annoying. Guess I owe another apology.

"I've got nineteen Hounshack fangs. I want six favors for each."

Good, she caught herself. As she presented me the Hounshack fangs as soul-inventory items I saw the value under the hologram as seven. One favor profit for each fang wasn't bad. Now, where had I heard that name before? Whatever.

"Don't have enough favors on hand. I have to void them first and then pay you."

"That's the normal way." The woman dared to shake her head in disbelief. "What trader doesn't such a small sum on hand?"

"I told you. The one that was born just the day before. Can we get this over with?"

Shrugging, she shook my hand and transferred the fangs over. A moment later they were gone into the void. Never to be seen again. Splitting the stack of favors is easier than I thought.

"That was quick. I have never seen a void-trader do it so fast."

It wasn't instantaneous for everyone? Well, what can I say-

"I know. I am amazing." I held out my hand with her split of the void-favors. "Something else or can the next person be rude to me?"

"I have eight puddles of Zitoraxs slime."

Eww. Damn, I am glad the transactions are in soul-inventory form. The physical form for that is probably very gross. Each was only worth 5 void-favors. So I offered four. The second trade was mercifully a smidge quicker.

"What kind of stock do you have?"

Ouch. What is it with that woman? She is stumbling from one of my weak points to the next.

"Got a standard bow for a hundred and thirty favors. Ten arrows for five. That's it. Before you comment, remember, I was born yesterday. In a few hours- sorry, bells - I have a normal sword and a knife."

"I'll have the arrows."

"How many?"

"A hundred?"

Why was she asking me instead of telling? Well, granted I didn't have a hundred in stock. I quickly remedied the fact by opening my crafting display and dragging a hundred from the void. Somehow that got her, even more, gaping at me. Don't tell me instant crafting was another thing no one else could.

At last, she stepped off my ramp. She had been annoying and rude, but at least she had been profitable for me. For the arrows, I made a favor profit for each ten-piece sold. In total, I earned thirty-seven void-favors from her.

Sadly the rest of my customers weren't much better. It took me deep into the afternoon to service all of them. I made a few hundred void-favors. Close to a thousand. Not bad for a first day. But I hope my customers grow accustomed to me. Apparently, gaping is an equal opportunity sport for both genders around here. Who knew?

At the end of the day, I had renewed hope. Money was coming in. I had a lead one something that might help me tame in those monsters on my chest. Heck, maybe I even find solutions to other problems of mine. A jumpsuit or clothes that actually covered me. As soon as the Kingswood Forrest contract was up I was free to look for a tailor. Maybe I even work on some self-improvement. I could try being less rude. Or lessen the fact that I narrate my life to an imaginary audience in my head at times of stress.

Well, time to head to bed.
Hopefully tonight I sleep better.
Imaginary or not, I wish you a good night.

To be continued?

---
Hey there,

Cassy_Bee speaking. Thank you for making it so far.
This story is a little all over the place. I wrote it in one fifteen-hour season after suffering from insomnia for three nights (and days).
Barely noticeable, right?
I threw in some remarks and nods to pop culture. Color me curious if you find them all.
This is another story in my "pilots" section. Written as a possible start for a serial. What do you think? Should I continue? I do have a few ideas to torture Leon further.

Anyway.
Hugs and kisses for now,
Cassy

This is boring! Utterly monotonous and dull.
Sitting in my Little Mule all day and hoping a customer would come. This is the sixth day of my stint at Kingswood Forrest. Or what the Besonians call a rotation. Yes, I figured out what a rotation is. I'll tell you later. Spoiler warning. It is the stupidest shit ever.

I was so ready to get out of here. As I arrived I nearly made one thousand void-favors in a day. But that number quickly crumbled away on the second and declined further in the following days. Let me remind you. Most of my income is taking a cut when my customers want to void items. Namely parts of monsters and animals they hunted in the woods. Turns out no void-trader was here for a while. So I got all those saved-up items on the first day. What tickled in now was from fresh kills and there weren't that many.

They only void junk too. The hunters around here save pelts and meat for professional crafters or cooks. They would throw the rest away, but it is known that certain parts of an animal or monster catch a good price when voided. At least I sell arrows now and then. The rest of my stock didn't do so well. Not that there was a lot. I tried my best to research upgrades, but so far no one wanted to buy a "papush colored bow". It looks like a pink bow wasn't to the taste of the local woodsmen.

Despite my lack of customers, my Little Mule had plenty of guests. If you count men and women coming by just to ogle me. Some even pretended to be customers. Asking me about my little stock of equipment. Only to jump off the wagon after deliberating for ten minutes. Of course, with a healthy chunk of it taken up eyeing my twins. I get that they are enormous, but seriously I am not part of some freak show. At least I could charge a fee if I was.

Okay, look. I didn't start talking to you just to rant about things. That's just a side-effect. The last few days had been boring and you don't need to hear about that. Granted there was the time I got Essie to tell me about female hygiene. But you don't need to know about that. It had been embarrassing enough. No, the reason why this moment was special is that there is a request for a long-distance hologram to appear in my Little Mule. And it isn't Essie. The void-trader apprentice that now and then checked in on me. Nope, this was Iren calling. The same Iren that stuck me in this Little Mule with barely an explanation and shipped me off to the outskirts of mundane&boring. Well, the official name was Kingswood Forrest, but you get where I am coming from, right?

Of course, I wanted to talk to her. But first I pulled up the ramp of the Litte Mule and made myself presentable. Which amounted to pretty much pulling up the zipper on the front of my papush colored jumpsuit and hoping it would go higher than any time before. After sitting straight up I thought about accepting the call. That is all that is needed to make Iren's hologram appear.

"Leon! How is my new favorite apprentice doing?"

That nerve of her! Shipping me off to bum-fuck nowhere without an explanation. Granted, she hired Essie to tutor me and yes, she did buy me a very expensive little ship. But still. A warning might have been nice. Now she stands there smiling in her posh suit. Not rocking the pirate vibe like last time, but sporting the basonian equivalent of a tuxedo in a royal blue velvet material. She even wears a matching bowler head. Not that it could contain her many artfully knotted dreads.

I have to admit she looks good. Sexy. Not that I could rock such an outfit. My twins make that impossible. Wait. It's not like that. I don't want to dress up sexy. Just normal. Is that too much to ask for?

"Grumpy. Because you showed up as a hologram and I can't kick your ass."

"What's a hologram?" Iren honestly looks confused. "Oh, as a projection? Sorry, kiddo, but I don't have the time to visit all my charges in person. I am a busy bee."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have shipped me out to the uncivilized edge of this world. Without a word, mind you."

Iren gives me a fake laugh. You know the one. A little overdone. As if I just had said something hilarious. Now she sits down on the counter and gives me a benevolent smile. Look, I don't know how she can sit on it as a hologram.

"Alright. That is fair. I could have warned you, but as I said, I am busy. These are trying times for the guild. All hands on deck. That's how it is. And the Kingswood Forrest is hardly uncivilized. If none of your customers speak a language based on grunt then you are still good. Now, Leon, I ask again. How did you do the last week?"

Maybe I should make her wait. Just give her a glare until I get more of an apology than this half-baked one I just got. Then again, I am tired of being here. Sitting on my ass all the time. Maybe if I make nice then I can get out of here.

"Just fine. Thanks to Essie. She taught me the basics. However, there isn't much on the ship I could use. Who stocks the fridge, but doesn't put a few clothes in the wardrobe? At least I noticed early that I only had one roll of toilet paper and researched it early."

By now I have a papush colored version of toilet paper. No, not because I grow more girly and suddenly like everything pink. Don't be ridiculous. It is just softer. And it smells nice.

"All I got was a dagger, sword, bow, and arrows. I tried researching better versions, but mostly I just managed to color them papush. Only the arrows were bought. The normal colored ones."

Iren gives me a good-natured chuckle. You know. The one slightly patronizing in tone. "Well, I don't think pink weaponry is a market niche ready to be conquered. What about void-favors? How much did you earn?"

No shit Sherlock. Who would have thought hardened woodsmen prefer less visible and eyecatching weapons? I mean who would run around by choice in anything papush colored?

No.

Don't you dare to point out that I sit here in a papush colored jumpsuit. I have no choice. The vomit brown the original jumpsuit had is much worse. Myra probably had to wear it as punishment. I don't believe she would buy anything in that brown tone on purpose.

Okay. Where was I? Right. Void-favors.

"On my first day, I made nearly a thousand. Then it all broke in. Barely and trade since then. They mostly wanted arrows. All in all, I am close to one thousand and three hundred. Honestly, a day or two would have been enough. Leaving me here for a full rotation is just mean. I am so bored, you wouldn't believe it."

"Oh, I would. Remember Leon, I started out once just like you. It is those noblemen that give out the assignments. I always tell them for a place like this, two days are enough. Believe me, they never learn."

"But that's it, right? Tomorrow, the rotation is full. Then I can get out of here, right?"

Did my voice just sound a bit needy? I hope not. Still, I am so ready to leave this stupid place behind. Au Revoir, Kingswood Forrest. May a wildfire burn you down.

"That's why I am here. Now that you have a decent starting fund of void-favors it is time to decide how you proceed."

"Great!"

Wait, is your mind filling with doubts as mine currently is? There's got to be a snag somewhere.

"With deciding to proceed you mean you will tell me or do I have a say in it."

Oh, shit. Iren looks angry. Downright scary. What did I say?

"Leon, you have luck I am only a projection right now or I'd smack you over the head. Do you have any idea how much time I invested in the last few days? Just for you. I get that you aren't happy to be here. This forest or this world, but get off your horse. Your unique situation buys you only so much patience. That is one currency more precious than void-favors. Don't spend it without thought."

I've got to admit, she got me there. Damn, who knew Iren could be like that? Can't even look her in the eyes. Reminds me of the scolding gaze my mother gave me if I messed something up. No treehouse in the backyard for me to hide in. Maybe one of the woodsmen has a hunting blind I can borrow. Okay, let's try talking first.

"Sorry."

Nailed it. Okay, not my most eloquent speech. I admit. But Iren's gaze is softening again. Maybe it has more to with myself trying to sink into my seat and giving her puppy eyes. That sometimes worked with my mother. Not very often though. Now I got to remember to tread carefully. Iren isn't as easygoing as I first thought. One probably needs some steel inside to make it as the head of the trader guild.

"The decision of where to go now is yours and yours alone. But before you go around stepping on other people's toes you might want to listen to me and hear your options. As I said, I was in your shoes once. As was every other void-trader you will meet."

"I am all ears. I promise. How does one normally proceed from here?"

"Normally a void-trader establishes a route with the help of the guild. Places like these produce goods worth voiding. They touch down for a day or two and then move to the next spot. The goal is to research enough goods to become useful in other places. For someone who doesn't have your high aptitude for void-magic, this can take months. Sometimes even years."

That makes sense. A glance at my shelves reveals my meager stock. Three weapons and some arrows won't help me move up in the world. Normal colored or papush. I need an edge. Something to get ahead.

"You said normally and that I have options. What do you have in mind?"

"Now you are using your head. Good. It's about time. Tomorrow you will take your Little Mule to the Tsundore Fields. It is a trading hub for void-traders that made it. There, you will play dirty and skirt the laws of our guild."

"That sounds dangerous-"

Did Iren just wave me off? Nope, not going to remark on it. I'll just put my foot in my mouth again.

"It takes years to build up a good and diverse stock. Most void-traders specialize and guard their exclusives. Think about it. One copy and you can research a product for yourself. Breaking their grip on a specific good."

Are you thinking what I am thinking? With my quick research time, I might not just steal designs, but also improve them faster than anyone else. Provided I manage more than just recoloring something in papush. With my luck, I'd probably become renowned for it.

"It sounds like a way to make a lot of enemies."

"Well, yes. But being honest here, you don't have the void-favors to go for their exclusives. So, knock that out of your head. You will go there and buy the basics. A broad stock to make yourself more useful and adaptable to different trading spots. Normally, a void-trader should grant access to those items to newcomers in the business, but most play dirty and refuse. All to slow down the competition. Even if it would take years for them to encroach on their territory. It is equally dirty to not reveal that you are a void-trader yourself, but it will be exactly what you'll do."

What should I get? More weapons for sure. Armor could also make a dime or two. Holy shit! Clothes. I can finally buy something decent and ditch this stupid jumpsuit. Maybe even something that won't make me feel like a stripper freshly escaped from the most downtrodden strip club. Granted there is no hiding my twins. They stand out either way, but it doesn't mean I have to reveal them to the world all the time. But I am getting ahead of myself. Maybe Iren has more wisdom to bestow.

"I think I can do that. Weapons, armor, and consumables, right? Is there anything I have to specifically look out for? This is all very new to me and I might overlook something that might be an obvious pick for someone else."

"In your case, I would go straight for potions and other consumables. Don't bother with anything else."

"Why? That doesn't sound very adaptable."

"True. But for the spot I have in mind, it would be perfect. If you want there is a spot free at the Maynard Mansion. Vacant the day after tomorrow."

That sounds strange. Why would rich people need potions and other consumables? Or am I thinking wrong? Maybe Iren means I should stock up on lotions, soaps, and other luxury items.

"I am not sure what the high-society needs. Silken handkerchiefs?"

"Right. For a moment I forgot you are new to this place. Maynard Mansion was the home of an eccentric artificer. His creations went rampant and most of the grounds are overrun by monsters. It is a prime hunting ground for adventurers. The trader leaving was specialized in potions. If you fill the void left behind then many void-favors come your way."

That sounds like a steady flow of customers. At this moment, I'd care less for the void-favors to be earned. Selling potions and other consumables will at least keep me busy. Boredom is my new enemy number one. Even my troubles with the jumpsuit and my twins can't compare to it. I am so ready to get out of here.

"Sounds good. How many rotations do I have to do to fulfill the contract?"

Shit, did I say something stupid again? Iren has this bemused look. Did she just sigh? If my talking to you suddenly just ends I guess you find my corpse somewhere in a ditch.

"No contract. Listen, Leon. Contracts are for spots no void-trader wants to go. Local landlords pay us as an incentive. The Maynard Mansion and other spots like this are hard-fought for. Void-traders normally pay good money to rent a spot there. I used up a lot of favors and goodwill to get you in for five rotations. If you decide you want to leave early just give me a call. I'll have a replacement there the next day. Maybe even sooner."

She really does go out of her way to help me. To be honest, it makes me regret my earlier abrasive behavior even more. Shit. Maybe I can make it up to her somehow. A present? Don't think she will appreciate a papush colored anything. Maybe I find something at the market at Tsundore Fields. A present that says "sorry I have been an insufferable ass".

"Thank you, Iren. I may not always sound like it, but I appreciate your help. Will do as you say. Go to Tsundore Fields. I totally pretend I am not a void-trader and stock up on potions and other consumables. Then go to Maynard Mansion and make you proud."

"Glad we are on the same page again, Leon. Speaking of. One last thing. You might want to come up with a new name. Leon might be an acceptable one for women on Earth, but on Besona you stand out with it. I'd recommend you find a local one that is to your liking."

Damn, that is a slap in the face. Right. It might be high time for a new name. Not that Leon is a female name on Earth, but Iren doesn't know it. Strange that Essie or Iren haven't pointed it out sooner. I dreaded this moment. Yet another string to sever that ties me to my old life and gender. Once it is gone all that I will have left are memories.

"I will ask Essie for help. She probably has a good nose for finding a fitting one."

"Not a bad idea. I've got to go now. Work never ends. With a little luck, I will find time for a visit in the next rotation. Until then stay out of trouble, Leon. I mean it. As much potential as you have you are causing me a lot of headaches too."

My serious nod is wasted. Iren is already gone. Damn, I really do owe a lot to that woman. If only I would think more before opening my mouth. But for now, I am glad to have a plan. Tomorrow, the market at Tsundore Fields. Then five rotations at Maynard Mansion peddling potions.

Right, rotations. I promised I explain them, right. According to Essie, a rotation is six days. Similar to what we call a week but the origin is so much worse. Some wannabe smart guy on Besona had the idea that eating certain foods on certain days makes one more healthy. Meatday, Fishday, Eggday, Herbday, Fruitday, and Spiceday were born. That stupidity caught on. One such set of days is called a rotation. And while the theory was eventually disproven the habit and the names stuck. I told you it was stupid. Do you already regret the urge to know? I know I do.

Anyway. The five rotations equal thirty days. Roughly a month by earth standard. The other time measurement is bells. Each day is divided into thirty of them. I am pretty sure one bell is shorter than an hour. By how much I can't say. A quarter maybe? Bells can be divided into full, half, quarter, and three quarters. That's it. No smaller measure is available. Apparently, the Besonians are a little more relaxed in terms of punctuality.

With Iren gone, I think it is time to close up shop. Tomorrow will be a busy day. Shopping. Are those female hormones talking or why am I a little excited? Oh, right. Decent clothes. That's it.

Now, I have to call Essie and try to find a name. Not looking forward to that one. I'll tell you tomorrow how that turned out. Until then, good night.

---

Hey Readers,
Cassy_Bee here.

Thanks to everyone who replied on part 1 and demanded a second one. Your comments and private messages mean a lot to me. Hence part 2. I know. A little dry and heavy on explanations. I think Leon will have a lot more opportunities for hijinks on the market.

To be honest, this is a serial (to be) that I didn't plan through ahead of time. I can't tell how long it will be. Certainly not sixty parts or longer.

I do have a few ideas of "torture" for Leon. More tropes of the Isekai genre to moonlight and make fun of. Or aspects of games that make no sense. If you think of one that I might miss then send me a message and I'll try to fit it in.

Until the next time,
hugs and kisses,
Cassy

Oh, I wish you could see it. It is early morning and my Little Mule is just coming up in Tsundore. That is a city worth looking at. The town where I came to this world couldn't compete. Tsundore had been on my horizon for quite some time now. Maybe a quarter bell. Last night I had programmed my autopilot to take me there, but my Little Mule only arrived now.

I had thought Besona was a typical fantasy world with medieval this or that. But looking at the skyscrapers of Tsundore I have the feeling that I am about to be taught a lesson. By a whole city nonetheless. Granted, these skyscrapers only stabbed into the sky with twenty to thirty floors, but they still are the most impressive thing I saw coming to this world. They were built quite unlike our own. Each level had a large balcony and they all were connected. It gave me the impression that the people of Tsundore stacked single-family houses instead of using skyscrapers for something practical. Like cramming a shit ton of office cubicles into each one.

I feel pangs of jealousy. These gleaming metal towers boasted with lush green foliage everywhere. I wish I had grown up in an environment like this, instead of a brick-and-mortar jungle. These skyscrapers are the dream of environmentalists come true. Normally I don't care about that. Yes, I recycle. But only the easy stuff and when it doesn't cause too much work for me. Still, even I have to admit it is impressive. I wouldn't mind living here, but I have my Little Mule.

Speaking of-

Instead of flying into the city, my Little Mule takes a detour. Around the city limits. Giving me a splendid view of the skyline. Not for long as I can already see my destination. Tsundore Fields. How can one describe it? An airfield turned carnival? A hundred void traders with their colorful Little Mules all deciding to go tailgating at once? It is a magnificent view and one steadily growing. My own Little Mule automatically steers for a little fenced-off area with colorful ribbons. A little vibration through the floor is the only detail clueing me in that I have landed.

It is time to join the madness outside. For now, the ramp of my Little Mule stays shut. I am here to buy and not to trade. I doubt my limited stock will draw customers anyway. Stepping outside my fear that my papush colored jumpsuit would stand out is squashed in a second. People are rushing around in all kinds of colors. A festival of vibrant tones. I will fit right in.

All around me the Little Mules are parked with their ramps facing each other and still having enough space in between to park three cars parallel. Yet progress is slow. Long chains of customers line the ramps and streets. Groups of people are slowly making their way through the masses. Lone pedestrians like me are rather rare.

Did I just walk three rows and was only looking around like a tourist? I've got to remember that I am here with a purpose. To stock my own shop I need potions and consumables. It will help me at my next destination. Maynard Mansion is a void-traders dream come true. Lots of adventurers and a hunting ground with masses of loot.

Remind me of potions later. I see something much more interesting. Clothes! Yes! Time to ditch this stupid jumpsuit. Damn, that line of customers waiting looks long. Well, maybe by the time it is my turn I know what to buy. Shit, I have no clue about woman's fashion. Something to cover my twins for sure, but what? It is too warm for a sweater. Not to mention that other people would point out my sweater puppies. Do Besonian's have the term sweater puppies. I hope not.

I need a bra for sure. Not that I have a lot of problems so far going without one. My twins are amazingly perky. Even more impressive considering their size. Myra said my stats will help me out with them. Is that why I don't have back pain yet? Do Besonians even get back pain due to large breasts? What if they don't even have brassieres? Come to think of it I can't recall if Myra, Essie, or Iren had worn a bra. Granted I was a little distracted by my own breasts and for once didn't stare at other women. Damn, looking around I can't tell from the women passing by. I don't wanna stare though. Which, now that I pay attention, doesn't stop some people from doing it to me. Yes, my twins have drawn attention again. Probably since I left my Little Mule, but I have been too distracted to notice.

What else should I get? T-shirts? Blouses? Tops? I have no clue. Nothing with a low neckline. That much I learned from my jumpsuit. Should I go for pants or a skirt? I prefer the former, but maybe the latter is more prevalent in Besona. Looking around I see more skirts, but both, Essie and Iren, wear pants. Maybe it is tied to the occupation?

My time to think things through is running out. Only a few more people before me were in line. There is another topic I have to ponder. Last evening I brainstormed with Essie on potential names. I need to blend in and Leon stands out. Not really because it is a male name. Heck, the Besonians don't even know it as such. Because the name is entirely new to them. Essie threw a bunch of candidates at me. Most I dismissed outright. At least, I managed to narrow it down to a few choices.

Oh, my turn. Time to walk up that ramp and try not to appear like an idiot.

"Hi, I am Kayra. Due to unforeseen events, I need a new wardrobe. Something casual and it needs to cover my bust."

Look, let's skip how the whole discussion played out. It is embarrassing enough. I bet I can't even reproduce half the technical terms the trader threw at my head. Is this unique to Besona or do women on Earth have to learn a whole dictionary worth of fashion terms too? Anyway, I do have one outfit for now. A fine knit tunic in a cream color with short sleeves. Best of all it has a high collar. No more flashing my breasts.

Speaking of. They have brassieres. Granted they look a bit strange, but I can't put my finger on it and say what gives me the impression. I am no expert. For a moment I forgot that clothes that you equip from your soul inventory adjust to your size. Maybe that's why the Besonians have no concept similar to a cup size system. Asking for one got me a very strange look.

For everything below my waist, I got panties and a skirt. I am not thrilled about the latter, but all the pants they offered ended either just above or below the knee. What's up with that? Besonians are strange. Maybe I find another trader who offers normal pants. She, the trader, also insisted on a slim belt. Something to tie up the look, she said. By that time I simply agreed. My attention span down the drain. Why do some women love to go shopping? For me, it is still torture.

And it isn't over. My current jumpsuit has sewn-in shoes. A fact that my new outfit lacks. Now I have to look for a shop selling shoes. Great. Just great. Hopefully, those aren't too expensive. My new wardrobe already has me down by nearly four hundred void-favors. Leaving me with a little over nine hundred. I still need to stock up on potions and such.

There. A shop for shoes. And the waiting line isn't so long.

"Hi, my name is Lillyn and I need a new good pair of shoes."

Six hundred and fifty void favors left. Damn, shoes are expensive. The selection had been limited too. Most of the shoes had no heel or only a short one. The highest had been maybe two inches. I asked and apparently, that was the limit for the normal population. I made an ass of myself for not knowing that shoes with heels are for the working class. From what the trader told me the heel comes from riding and it signifies a lower class. Or that you are an adventurer. The high society prefers flats. That is sort of the opposite of Earth, right? I wonder how high heels evolved in our world. Just to be sure, I opted for black boots with a small heel. I can handle an inch. My jumpsuit has about one and a half and I am doing fine.

As much as I wanted to change in my new outfit, I had to be patient. Putting the jumpsuit in my soul inventory would leave me naked. My goal is to flash others less, not more. It is time to finish this shopping trip and get back to my Little Mule. I already got enough excitement for the day and it isn't even time for lunch yet. Over there. A potion shop. Time to bluff my way into some merchandise.

"Hi, I am Jolana. I have a cousin who is an adventurer. He will head tomorrow to the Maynard Mansion and I thought it might be nice to gift him some potions. A good spread of all the basic ones."

How did I do? Genius, right? Okay, my little cover story had me buy five health potions. I only need one. Not that I could reveal this fact. But the rest worked. Stamina, strength, dexterity, and other stats enhancing potions. I got them all. Along with a mana potion to quickly refill it or a mana regeneration potion for better passive mana income. Two types of potions to harden one's skin and one to make someone more flexible. The shop owner recommended a few other items that he hadn't in stock. Time to look for another trader. I hope those won't be too expensive. I am down to two hundred seventy void-favors. Damn, this is all expensive.

There, I just spotted my next goal.

"Hi, I am Sayah and I am looking for lockpicks and smoke bombs. Not for me. A gift for my cousin."

Alright, I got everything to get my own shop started. Time to head home. I only got about one hundred void-favors left and I need a little cash for normal day-to-day business. If I pop a few items in quickly then maybe I can research most of my haul by tomorrow morning. Right when I arrive at Maynard Mansion. Now, do you remember where I parked my Little Mule?

Apparently, I parked in the beginner area for void traders. I knew so because I walked in the wrong direction and shops got more and more expensive. I should turn around, but there is something strange. Is it just me or are the Little Mules around here getting bigger and bigger? A few of them might even be twice as long as my own. And over there is one I could swear is two feet wider than mine.

Great, now I arrived at the opposite end of the market and-

Holy shit, that is a big Little Mule. Or is that even a Little Mule? I can't turn back yet. I don't know about you, but my curiosity is piqued. If my Little Mule is worth two hundred and fifty thousand just how expensive is a ship that is fifty percent wider and three times as long? But more importantly what does this void-trader sell that made him so rich. It has to be something extraordinary.

Strutting up the ramp I am even more confused. No customers. Whatever they sell must be exclusive enough that they can make do with few customers.

"Sorry, girl. I am open for business. Come back after the twenties bell and I might spend a few coins on you."

Did that asshole just mistake me for a prostitute? That is beyond rude!

"I am not for sale!"

"You look like you are. My bad. In that case, move along."

That guy really knows how to get my blood boiling. And not in a good way. What's his problem?

"What? You think I don't have the money?"

"Honey, this is a shop for void-traders only."

"Maybe I am one."

"Ha! Good one. Look, Missy. Even if you are, I sell upgrades to the Little Mule ships. You need void-favors in the six figures or higher."

Little Mules can be upgraded? Now that is juicy information. That explains the Little Mules on the way here that had been a little bigger. If this big ship here was a very upgraded version of a Little Mule then the void-trader here might be very rich indeed. Are you getting as jealous as I am? Not to mention that I kind of want to dethrone the ass. If I only could afford one upgrade. Maybe I could research them myself.

"Six figures? That shouldn't take too long."

Okay, maybe I am talking out of my ass, but whatever. Before mister I-am-better-than-you can reply I rather walk out. Leave him hanging. You know what? Maybe that guy had been unnecessarily rude, but in a way I am grateful. Arriving here on Besona left me kind of aimless. So far everyone had steered me in one way or another. Even becoming a void-trader had been dictated by my high aptitude. But so far I had not a single reason to become a good trader beyond living a comfortable life. Now I have a goal. My Little Mule will be bigger and better than his. I will show that disrespectful guy what I really can do.

Time to head back to my Little Mule and get cracking. I need all my spoils researched and then on to advanced versions. Not to mention that I finally can change out of this stupid jumpsuit.

I'll talk to you more tomorrow. This void-trader here has work to be done.

---

Hey readers,

your TTkFMMAT writer Cassy_Bee here.
Okay, I admit that acronym is a mouthful.
Moving on.

Leon is making steps into her future.
Now she has a goal.
But before she really can get started she needs a name.
She tested out a few throughout this chapter.
Which one will she take?
Maybe the "imaginary audience" can help her out this one time.
I will leave a link to a straw poll down below.
Cast your vote and maybe your favorite will be whispered in Leon's ear in her dreams.

Until next time,
hugs and kisses,
Cassy

>>> LINK TO THE STRAWPOLL <<<

Good morning. I hope you slept well.

I didn't. Looking out it seems my Little Mule is still flying towards Maynard Mansion and the sun is just rising. Maybe I should get back in bed, but judging by the last few hours it wouldn't bring much. I sort of got used to sleeping with big breasts. It gets easier, but it still takes a while for my mind to ignore them and drift away to dreamland. But that hadn't been the problem tonight. I am just nervous.

Starting today I will open my services to the adventurers at Maynard Mansion. If Iren is to be believed it is a big deal. I'll be staying there for five rotations. Provided I don't chicken out sooner. Throughout yesterday's afternoon, I researched the potions I bought on Tsundore Fields. Late in the evening I popped in two health potions into the research bench and went to bed. Hoping that I would wake up this morning with some good upgrades. Instead, I tossed and turned. Every few hours I knew the research bench was done. So, I plopped in another two potions and went to bed. Hoping I'd fall asleep. Nope. Not a chance.

Maybe this night was a bad omen, but I can't let that keep me down. Time to get dressed in my new outfit. I tried it out yesterday, but even after a few hours, it felt strange. Not uncomfortable. I am just not used to it. The first piece was the bra. It has this nice light caramel color and is some kind of leather that is soft and thin. That single piece of garment cost me a full bell to figure out. No, don't laugh. I know how bras work. I had the pleasure to take them off a few women. That was back on Earth. Imagine my surprise as I found no claps, hook, button, or other methods of opening and closing it. Actually, the solution was so simple and stupid that I facepalmed myself. Besonians have access to a soul inventory and they can equip items from it directly. It simply materializes on your body.

I have to say I wasn't looking forward to wearing a bra, but boy am I glad to have one now. Despite the enormous size of my twins, they hadn't given me trouble in the form of back pain. Myra said they shouldn't due to my stats. But they still had mass and tend to move a bit. Especially if I turn around too fast, run, or jump. The bra actually keeps them in check and restricts their movement. The panty does have the same light caramel brown as the bra and I am glad I have them too. Not that I want to show them around, but it is nice to know that I have more than one layer from now to keep me decent. While the jumpsuit kept my privates hidden it was very formfitting. I caught myself a few times looking down to make sure I don't display a camel toe. Not that I did, but the worry was there.

Next was the skirt. Another surprise. When I bought it I had only seen the display picture of its soul inventory form. A long black skirt. Perfect to hide my long legs that would be otherwise nude and open for the world to see. As I equipped them for the first time, I thought it was actually wool I was wearing. However, it didn't feel like wool. Despite being woven it was actually leather. Impossibly thin strips that had been braided into a yarn. I have never seen or heard anything like it on Earth. The skirt itself is kind of loose and reaches down to my ankles. Making the strange material glide over my legs with each step. I think it will take some time until I will get used to it.

The tunic was another garment I had no hopes of wearing or stripping without the soul inventory system. Just like the bra, it was very form-fitting and had no means to open or close. It too was made of the same leather material as the skirt. Here it was woven directly instead of being braided first. It made for flexible clothes but wasn't very stretchy. You have no idea how good it feels to have my twins finally covered up. Look, I am no prude but I don't like the attention they get from random people. It makes me uncomfortable. In hindsight, I regret that I too have now and then stared at a woman's bosom. I tried to be not too obvious about it, but now I wish I had learned even more restraint.

The tunic itself has short sleeves. Leaving my arms bare. Just like a t-shirt. I mean- Sort of. At least it is an aspect familiar to me. Unlike a t-shirt, it reaches further down. Just past my hips. Covering part of my skirt. The cream color is a strong contrast to the black below. I am no fashion expert by far, but it kind of looks strange. Too much light color and not enough dark. As if it is off balance. There the slim belt comes in. That stupid little thing actually works. Breaking up the big canvas of cream just about at my waist.

At last, it is time for my new boots. Those are sturdy and reach up to my calf. They're black to match my skirt. Not that they are really noticeable. They do have a small heel of around one inch. Marking them as shoes for the working class on Besona. I don't mind. It is less than my jumpsuit has.

Time to eat breakfast. My new favorite is Hushberry soup. Boy am I glad that I even tried it. You see most of the Besonian food is just strange and not what I expected. Something that looks delicious by Earth's standard can be bland or even disgusting on Besona. What you expect might be sweet turns out sour and other shenanigans. You never know how anything tastes until you tried it. When I saw the Hushberry soup I thought it might be overdue and ready to be thrown out. It has that puke green look with chunks of something in it. In my brilliance, I threw it a few days ago on the research bench. Thinking that maybe I could research a version that wasn't past its due date. Turns out it is fresh. And as a bonus, I now have the option to trade the void for one puke green jumpsuit. Hurrah.

A day later I actually tried the Hushberry soup. It tastes sweet. Reminding me of honey. And the mushy floating chunks in it taste like nuts. So, as long as I look away it is pretty sweet breakfast food.

I think I see something on the horizon. Is it the mansion? No, can't be. Too many buildings. It looked more like a small town with one big building in the middle. Strange, my Little Mule is steering for the central courtyard. We are landing. This is Maynard Mansion? The whole complex is bigger than the freakin' Pentagon. I expect something more along the lines of the White House. Not this.

Sure enough, the courtyard is filled with tents to the brim. Just like the clearing in Kingswood Forrest. However, there are already three Little Mules parked there. With dedicated space for two more. One of those my own Little Mule is aiming for. A little vibration is all that is cluing me in that my ship landed. I have to admit the Little Mules are smooth rides. If I don't look out of the window I can actually forget when I am flying around.

It is time to explore a little. With so many adventurers around it should be safe, right? Stepping out I was greeted with a very colorful view. Each tent was brightly colored. A strong contrast to the muted woodland colors the tents in Kingswood Forrest had. They all are scattered around haphazardly in the courtyard. Here and there statues and wilted bushes are peeking out. It might have been a nice garden once. With cultured bushes and trees. Now, it was overrun by adventurers and deep dirt paths are carved into the soil by daily traffic. Walking along on them I could spot a few guards at the perimeter. They look tired, but their roaming eyes still show them alert.

The camp is just about to wake up. Here and there, adventurers crawl out and bleary-eyed greet the day. For once, I am hardly worth a second look. Most are too tired still to pay attention to-

Never mind. Someone just catcalled me. Not the greeting I was hoping for. Though I had expected it a little. Why should Maynard Mansion be different than Kingswood Forrest?

Speaking of greetings. One of the Little Mules is lowering its ramp. Maybe I can introduce myself before they open their shop. If I really stay here for five rotations I better make sure my fellow void-traders aren't hating me. The Little Mule in question is emerald green with silver accents. A nice combination. Don't you think so too? I can see a woman rummage around her storage bay. Better hurry up before she ducks deeper into her ship.

"Sorry, hun. Ain't open yet."

"I apologize for disturbing you so early. My name is Lillyn and I am the new void-trader. I just landed and thought I say hi."

"Well, look at you." She is putting her hands on her hips and is mustering me from head to toe. Well, two can play that game. She's a redhead with freckles, with a deeper tan than you might expect. At once my eyes are drawn to her. She has these deep violet irises. Quite extraordinary. Maybe to match the eyes she is wearing a loose dress in lavender. Her shoulders are bare and most of her chest too. This is the kind of dress I want to avoid by any means. She has a few years on me. Maybe in her late thirties.

"My name is Awyn. I specialize in weapons."

She's offering her hand over the counter. Not to trade a soul item, but for a handshake. Strange how one can travel to a new world and meet new cultures. Yet still find things that are the same. Of course, I shake her hand.

"I specialize in potions and consumables. Though my stock is still a little limited."

"As long as you have health and mana potions you should be fine. These are the potions most needed. Marro, the trader whose place you are taking, often complained that most of his stock is gathering dust."

I give her a grateful nod. Her information lines up with my expectations. Good to know it as confirmed.

"Well, I won't keep you for long. I just wanted to introduce myself before this day gets busy."

"Come by in the evening. Then we can talk more."

I give her a wave and walk off. Perfect timing as another Little Mule is lowering its ramp. It is the furthest away from my own and I have to walk past one that is pure black with white marbling. A little ominous and it gives me the creeps. Why would anyone choose this as their Little Mule's color when you can have something colorful and vibrant. For example, the one I am walking to is cinnabar red with copper accents. It stands out by a mile and draws the eyes.

"Excuse me. Can I have a moment of your time?"

The void trader turns around and gives me a quick look. Then a more appreciative one. I swear if he starts drooling I'll jump over his counter and punch him in the face.

"For you, I'd make time. Welcome to Xarestes Armor. I have just the right armor for you girl. Keeping your vital bits safe and showing enough skin to turn some heads. Parties will line up to invite you to join them."

What a creep. Damn, I involuntary took a step back or two. Was that dude in his fifties hitting on me? And who in their right mind wants revealing armor? Shouldn't one be decked out from head to toe if they venture into something dangerous? Growing up, my brother had a comic book poster up the wall with some red-headed woman in a bikini of chainmail. I always found it stupid and teased him for it. At least, until he took it off the wall.

"I think you got the wrong idea. My name is Le-" Wait, the wrong name. "Lillyn and I am the new void-trader."

"So you are the gal. I was wondering who'd take Marro's place. No one in the guild could tell me about you. And I asked a lot of people. Aren't you a bit too young to service Maynard Mansion? What guild rank are you?"

My what? Iren hadn't mentioned anything about guild ranks. Essie too.

"I don't think I have one yet."

"Then how did you-"

That creep is eyeing me again. Damn, I hate that. At least, I am not running around in that revealing jumpsuit anymore.

"I see. New to the trade. Short on void-favors. So you paid for the spot by other means. Normally I'd protest, but looking at you- Well, if you want me to teach you a few things about being a void trader then I think we can come to an agreement."

Oh, the nerve of that guy. I didn't sleep around to get where I am now. How dare he insinuate I did.

"I didn't sleep with anyone! Iren believes in my potential and-"

"Iren? Gal don't be ashamed. That cougher had plenty of girls in her bed. When she was younger she had a flock of them always around her. If she landed you then it only shows she still got it."

Wait, what? Iren is a lesbian playboy? She didn't give off that vibe to me. Hell, she did her best to unload me as quick as possible. Should I be offended that she didn't hit on me? I think I am getting distracted.

"I. Didn't. Sleep. With. Iren. Or anybody else. I specialize in potions and I wouldn't be here if I couldn't service the customers around here!"

Without another word, I am stomping off that jackass ramp. How dare he insult me like that? Is that what I have to look forward to? To be belittled at every step I take. That every accomplishment they chalk up to me using my body? Damn this makes me angry.

Thankfully, that black Little Mule is still closed. I don't think I have it in me to face another person for a while. Time to get my shop open and show them that I have the right to be here. But first, I have to calm down. Right now, I'd probably tear off the first customer's head.

Just give me a little space.

Talk to you in a bit.

....

....

"I take fourteen fast-health, two health-regeneration, and two mana-regeneration potions."

Guys, business is booming. Okay, I did open a little late, but since then I had customers non-stop. Heck, there is still a line and I can't even see the end of it.

"That will be three hundred and twenty-eight void favors."

A handshake later and I have a tidy little profit. While the sums are high you have to keep in mind that most of these void-favors go into the void to draw out more inventory. The little mark-up from the amount the void wants is my profit. In this case, forty-four void-favors.

A handshake later I am ready for the next customer.

"Welcome to Lillyn's potions and consumables. Do you have items to void?"

I am not exactly sure why some junk is worth void-favors and others aren't. The adventurer before me dumps a pile into my lap. Figuratively, not literally. A stack of eighty-two "tarnished silverware" is still just one floating hologram in soul-inventory form. Adventurers could carry a shit-ton around without trouble. I wish we had the soul-inventory system back on Earth. Maybe I wouldn't have so much back pain every time I helped a friend move apartments.

And the adventurer is done unloading the junk that he collected from Maynard Mansion. Now he has over one thousand void-favors more to his name. Nearly two thousand if it hadn't been for my cut. The business fee for voiding the junk for him. Still, that was a lot of void-favors. No wonder they could spend so much on potions.

I think I figured out how the economics of this place works. If I peek out of my Little Mule then I only see an occasional customer go to Awyn's or Xarestes' Little Mules. Not enough to even warrant a waiting line. They all come to me first. I make a killing voiding junk and a small bonus for selling potions. Then, my customers go over them and spend their hard-earned void-favors on weapons or armor. Probably with a heavy mark-up by my colleges.

All that leaves the voiding work to me. I'd might complain in a rotation or two, but right now I am happy. Ecstatic really. Which trader doesn't like to see a line of customers eager to do business with them? I certainly don't mind.

Speaking of my customer line. Why are a few walking out suddenly?

"Hey, what is going on? Why are they leaving?"

My current customer looks behind himself and then off to something outside of my Little Mule.

"Pasus is opening his shop. You are new here and probably don't know. We never know when he opens his shop and for how long. If someone needs something from Pasus they better hurry and get it now. Don't worry, they'll be back. All they lose is their place in line here."

"Thanks for telling me. I haven't met that Pasus fellow yet."

Whoever he was, that Pasus must have extraordinary stock to warrant this irregular behavior. I mean who can afford to open whenever they want for how long they are in the mood for? Intriguing. Very intriguing.

"Now, what potions do you need?"

It looks like I will be busy for a while here. Talk to you all later.

....

....

"Thank you for your purchase. Please come again."

Finally! That was the last customer. This had been a very profitable day, but very tiring. Looking out of my Little Mule I can see the shadows growing. I guess in about a full bell the sun will set. Where did the time go? Damn, I am hungry now. I didn't even have a lunch break. Only juice and water kept me hydrated. Time to close up and get something between my teeth.

I wonder-

The ramp of that Pasus guy's mule is still down. Maybe food can wait a bit longer. Time to satisfy my curiosity. Hopefully, this Pasus isn't a jerk like Xarestes.

As I leave my own Little Mule I can see the camp around me preparing for the night too. Most adventurers gather around campfires and are cooking or grilling. Damn guys, someone is starving here.

Halfway on my way to Pasus, I hear a distant explosion. By now I have gotten used to them. A customer explained to me that they are probably caused by a greater spell. I wonder what monster warrants such a show of force to resort to this level of destruction. And I wonder if I met any of those beasts of mages that are capable of it. Not that I have seen one of those explosions up close, but judging from the booms that roll over the courtyard they must be big. At least now, close to the night, the frequency has lessened.

In the fading light, the spider-like white marbling of the black hull is even harder to see. The Little Mule of Pasus casts long shadows but appears to melt into them too. As I see even the interior is painted in black. Pale light is flickering within in green, blue, and violet. Maybe this is a bad idea. Should I turn around?

Hmm, is no one around? Where is Pasus? Is that snoring I hear?

"Hello? Pasus?"

That clattering to my left just gave me a small heart attack. I thought the lump in the left corner was some stacked burlap sacks. Instead, a figure fust fell on the floor. Is that an overturned stool?

The man quickly rises to his feet and dusts himself off. Where am I? Is this the wrong movie? I expected horror or something. Instead, I get a slapstick comedy. Oh, he is coming over.

"Greetings dear customer to Pasus fantastical wares. Part of the Antesec Family. I was just- Meditating! Yes. How can I-"

Wait a moment. That just a young guy in an oversized robe. What a letdown. With a little too pale skin. Damn, he needs to get out a bunch. Raven black hair and dark eyes. A few more years and he might grow into a handsome man. Now he just looks cute.

I mean adorable. Not cute as in cute. You know. Like a puppy. Shit like that.

Well, he looks frozen solid. I wonder why. Well, not really. I can see where he is looking. I guess it is up to me to break the mesmerizing spell of my twins.

"Hi, I am Lillyn. The new void-trader. I am offering potions and consumables. I thought I swing by and introduce myself."

"Pasus. Of the Antesec family."

"You already said that."

Yep. Puppy. Lost puppy. Who gave such a whelp a Little Mule and let him roam around all by himself?

"Wait? Potions? Aren't you getting in trouble with Marro? That's his part of the market."

Oh, he snapped out of it.

"I am his replacement. He left."

"Is his four rotations contract already up?"

"Apparently. Say what do you sell?"

"Well, I am part of the Antesec merchant family."

Is it just me or is this little chat like walking through quicksand? Do I have to carry it alone?

"It is the third time you said that. Sorry, but I don't know what that means."

"The Antesec merchant family. You know, right? The biggest provider of quality spellbooks and enchanted trinkets."

"Never heard of them. Then again I am not from this neck of the woods. Let's just say I had a very sheltered upbringing and don't know a lot about Besona in general. So, spellbooks? How do they work?"

Damn, that smile. It's like throwing a bone to a mutt. Okay, maybe I should go easy on the dog analogies. But if you could see him, you would say he looks adorable too. I half expect a tail starting to waggle behind him.

"Oh, mages can inscribe spells in them and then cast them a lot quicker in battle. They boost the output too as long as they are infused with a corresponding essence too. The spellbooks the Antesec merchant family provides last longer and are of premium quality. You won't find better anywhere else."

"I see-" No I don't. But by now I have learned to pretend I do or everyone looks down at you. "Interesting. I may have to pick your brain later for details, but I had a long day and no lunch. My stomach demands attention."

"Yeah. Sure. Anytime. Bye."

Walking away I am not sure what is better. If people react like lecherous asswipes to seeing me or like Pasus. He has talked to a woman before, right? Damn, I probably made his day. I think my fifteen-year-old self would approve, but for the wrong reasons. I have to figure out how to deal with situations like these.

But not now.

I am so hungry.

Talk to you tomorrow.

---

---

Hey readers,

Cassy_Bee here.

Thank you so much for reading my story and even more so if you voted on the last part's Strawpoll. Forty-two of you did and it gave me a little excitement in these times of living like a hermit. The names "Kayra" and "Lillyn" had a close race with "Kayra" always being one or two votes ahead. Just for Lillyn to pull ahead with three votes on the last day. To be honest, it was my favorite too, but I abstained from voting.

As I had expected less than five votes, I think this little test has been a success. I might do another or two at key moments in the future parts. Giving you all a little say in how this story will progress.

Of course, by now I have decided where the story will lead. The next few parts for Lillyn will take place in and around Maynard Mansion. There are secrets to be uncovered. Just how will Lillyn do so without leaving the safety of her Little Mule? You will see. Just you wait.

And before you know it, familiar faces will make a surprise entrance.

Until then.
Hugs and kisses,
Cassy

"Morning Lillyn. I hope this doesn't take too long. My shift at the counter starts soon."

"Hey, Essie. Thanks for showing up. I hope this doesn't take too long."

Good morning to you too, my imaginary audience. It's my second day at Maynard Mansion and I already have a few questions. I decided to call Essie before opening my shop. She is a second-year void-trader apprentice and sort of my teacher to everything Besona. The world that I am now stuck in. Just now her hologram appeared in my living room.

Maybe it is a little too early for her. Her mane of reddish hair is still a mess. Did she just crawl out of bed? Normally she has them in intricate braids. Sorry, I am getting distracted.

"I only got a few quick questions."

"Well, why don't you tell ask them then?"

"It's about the mansion. Something strikes me as odd. Yesterday I voided mountains of tainted silverware, torn clothes, and other ruined houseware. But this looting of the mansion has been going on for some time, right? How can people still find stuff worth taking?"

Oh, boy. Did I say something wrong? Essie gave a big sigh and now is looking for a place to sit down.

"Quick questions. That's a good one, Lillyn. You manage to stumble upon the complexes of topics in no time at all. Maynard Mansion is a hardened space. A concept that is difficult to explain. Frankly, we don't even know why they exist, but adventurers have been studying their appearance for centuries. You remember how I explained the void and the material world, right?"

"The void is without substance but retains potential."

"Right. Now the material world has substance, everything still has the potential to be changed. People can grow. Wood can be burned. Food is grown. But hardened space is different. There the potential for change is reduced close to zero. The very area resists change in itself."

"But the manor is changed. People go in and haul out junk. That's the whole deal about it."

"And that's why it is complicated. You see a hardened area has a saved state of being. If something is removed or altered the very reality bends to undo the change. For example, the tableware you get. If it is taken from the mansion the hardened space will simply create a copy. Sometimes before the very eyes of adventurers. If a door gets bashed in then over time it will fix itself."

No wonder the adventurers return with all that junk. If it keeps respawning like that. Though I wonder why they only pull damaged stuff out of those buildings. Maybe I should take a look at it myself? I mean by now shouldn't all monsters be slain?

"Say, Essie, what's stopping me from just going in there and grabbing all the loot myself. Cutting off the middleman."

"Don't!"

Shot, I said something stupid again, didn't I? Essie practically jumped from her seat with a look of worry.

"It is not just objects and environments that are stuck. Everything, Lillyn. Whatever was caught when the hardening happened remains inside. That includes people, animals, and monsters."

"Alight. Alright. I won't go in there. Monsters and animals are beyond my scope. But why can't I talk to those people?"

Now Essie is shaking her head and giving sad sighs. I hate how it makes me feel. Everything has to be explained to me. It makes me feel like the village idiot. Wait, Essie is sitting down again.

"Lillyn. Imagine being stuck in one place. Not just for a few days or rotations. Years. Decades. Even centuries. They can't die. Sure, adventurers can kill their bodies, but the soul remains. The hardened space simply creates new bodies for them."

That sounds like an absolute nightmare. Just thinking about it is giving me the creeps.

"Sounds like a living hell. To be trapped like that."

"What's a hell?"

Just now I nearly waved Essie off. Why explain something about Earth when she will never see the place anyway. But then again, she is patient enough to explain everything about Besona to me. No matter how stupid or common the knowledge is.

"It's a place of torment. Not really on earth. Some people on Earth believe they end up there if they sin too much. Being then punished for eternity for the bad deeds they did. This hardened place sounds like torment to me. I guess they go crazy after a while."

"It is more than that. Lillyn, living things inside a hardened space become agents of it. Their need is to prevent change. To them, everyone who enters the area doesn't belong and needs to be removed. Even if that means killing someone. We simply call it The Madness. No one inside a hardened space can be trusted, Lillyn. No one."

Geez. That is heavy stuff. I don't think I will sleep well this night either. This is the stuff of nightmares for sure.

"Isn't there a way to free them? I mean to me it appears to be cruel to go in, rob their belongings over and over again. On top of it, they get murdered again and again."

"There is. That is what adventurers do. You see the ability of a hardened space is limited. If too much change is put on it for too long it becomes exhausted. Its ability to revert to its saved state slowly chipped away. Once it is gone the zone returns to normal and those trapped inside are set free."

"I see. So, the adventurers aren't greedy. They work to undermine these hardened zones to remove them."

Essie just gave a hearty laugh. For once I don't mind. This is heavy stuff and some humor is a welcome distraction. Not to mention Essie has a nice laugh. Wait, I did mention that before, right?

"Oh, there are plenty of greedy adventurers out there. But their participation still helps."

"You are right. I better stay out of it. Heck, now I wanna get as far away as possible."

"Funny you should mention it, but the courtyard your Little Mule is currently parking in used to be part of the hardened area around Maynard Mansion. It was the central place to reach all the other areas so it got unstable first."

"That I didn't need to know. Thanks. Now I have another reason to stay awake at night. Can we drop the subject? I had enough."

And another laugh. She is kinda cute when she is like that. Her skin turned slightly red. Trying to match her freckles but falling short of it. Sometimes I feel the need to tickle her just to squeeze out another laughter. Essie is lucky she's just a hologram right now.

"Sure. What are the other questions you wanted to ask?"

"You know what, this one topic has me exhausted. I think I shelf the others for the evening. Besides, counter duty awaits both of us. If yesterday was normal then today will be a busy day as well."

"Right. Call you in the evening."

"Bye Essie."

A wave of her hand and she is gone. Sometimes I wish she had counter duty on my Little Mule instead in the trading hub. It would make the day less tedious and a lot more joyful. Then again, the Little Mule is too small to house two people. Unless we share a bed and-

You know what? Nevermind. Time to get to work. Talk to you later.

....

....

Woah, that is the tallest person I have seen to date. A living amazon. Bulging muscles and shooting in the sky. She must be close to eight feet tall.

Sorry, I got a little distracted there. A few bells passed by in a hurry and now this next customer is this tall gal. I wonder what she wants. She has to lean down to not hit her head on my Little Mule's ceiling.

"A new trader? Do you have growth potions? I am running low."

I got all the basic potions for the main stats. Strength and stamina and so forth. I even got a few new ones through research. But this growth potion is new to me. I don't think the trader on Tsundore Fields had one either. Though I spot an opportunity to get my hands on the blueprint.

"Sorry, I do not have that type of potion yet. You still got a few left, right? If you sell me one then I can research it and then sell you more of them in the future."

"You seem nice, but listen. I ain't got all rotation for you to learn a new potion."

"I promise if you sell me one, I have it learned by nightfall."

"Alright, you are on."

A bit of haggling and I got a new potion. She sold it to me for twice it was worth, but I reason the potion's future sales will return my investment. And then, more profit for me. Listen to me. Talking like a real void-trader. I am slowly getting used to this. Now, what does a growth potion do exactly? Time to look at the item description. Thankfully every item has one while they are in a soul inventory form.

> New Item: Growth Potion - Strength 15 <
> Increases the overall size of the user by 15 percent for 2.5 bells. <
> 52 void-favors <

Huh? So, it makes one taller? Maybe that woman isn't as big as I thought. She's probably tanked up on that potion right now.

"Can I sell you anything else for now?"

The rest is boring. Time to satisfy more customers.

....

....

"Here is your cut of the void-favors." After a shake of our hands, a large sum of void-favors is transferred to my customers. Not that I mind. My cut is fifty-eight void favors. A small, but nice profit. "Can I do anything else for you? A health potion or two?"

"Yes, but there is something else. Do you collect clothes? I mean you probably only collect potions, but I had a quite rare drop today. An unblemished item. I could go to Xarestes, but-"

"But he is an ass and you try to avoid him?"

The woman before me gave a vigorous nod. Yeah, I can understand her. The void-trader for everything armor didn't leave a good impression on me. Apparently, others weren't smitten by him either. I didn't know Xarestes also sells regular clothes. But not even twenty horses could me drag back to that guy.

Having more articles of clothing might be nice too. I like my new outfit, but wearing the same for a few rotations might get old fast. I am not some statist in some videogame like my brother used to play back on earth. There the non-player characters always wear the same stuff.

"Let me see what you got."

She didn't hesitate to pull out the item. Let's read the description first.

> Maynard Mansion Bustier Of The Servant Maid <
> This elonged brassiere was designed in 437 AE by renowned tailor Isekian Menro for exclusive use in the Maynard Mansion household. It is part of the required uniform of all servants at Maynard Mansion. <
> 119 void-favors <

"I'll take it. How much do you want for it?"

"Two hundred?"

"Deal."

Great. A new bra. I had hoped for something less intimate, but I don't mind much. A little variety is always welcome. Not to mention this is one blueprint Xerestes won't get his hands on. That's definitely a plus in my book.

Let me just finish this customer and then I plop it into the research bench as well. It can keep the growth potion company.

....

....

"The sun is setting, void trader. Do you got the potion ready?"

Oh, look. It is that amazon woman again. Ha! I was right. She is smaller now. Well, still bigger than myself by quite a few inches. I guess slightly above six feet.

"Of course. Now, do you want the potion you sold me with strength fifteen or the one I researched? Same price, but strength seventeen."

That got a hearty laugh out of her. Good. Let that be a lesson. Don't underestimate me.

"Not bad, trader. I'll take ten."

And just like that, I made eighty void-favors. Too bad they don't have a physical counterpart. Else I might be rolling in them by now. The amazon made a welcome end-of-day customer. Time to close up shop and maybe put something new on the research bench.

Let's see. Oh, the bra got a variant unlocked.

> Enchanted Maynard Mansion Bustier Of The Servant Maid <
> This elonged brassiere was designed in 437 AE by renowned tailor Isekian Menro for exclusive use in the Maynard Mansion household. It is part of the required uniform of all servants at Maynard Mansion. <
> Growth enchantment - Strength 15 <
> 190 void-favors <

Wait a minute. I can research stuff that has enchantments on them? Cool. Apparently, the bustier took the effect of the potions and made it its own. Intriguing. If I had armor to sell, I could research variants with stats enhancements on them.

At least, I think it could work that way. Maybe I should ask someone who knows more. Didn't Pasus mention that he sells enchanted artifacts? I should pay him a visit.

Stepping outside my Little Mule definitely got creepy. Ever since Essie mentioned that the courtyard was a hardened space once. Walking to Pasus ship I wonder how it looked before the adventurers managed to liberate it. An artfully decorated garden with statues and sculpted trees and bushes. Gardners driven mad chasing visitors with hedge clippers or scythes. On second thought, maybe not dwell on it.

Good, the ramp to Pasus ship is down. I didn't step out for nothing. Today he isn't sleeping in a heap. Instead, he is rummaging in the back of his Little Mule. It can't be easy to find anything. His interior is as dark as the hull of his ship and only illuminated pale lights.

Time to knock and see if I can wring a little wisdom out of him.

"Hey, Pasus. Do you got a minute?"

"Lillyn. Of course. It is nice that you are back. I was just about to close up shop."

Pasus still is that lanky young guy, but I could swear he is wearing a different robe. Still black with a hood. Fitting to the theme. But this is what I am talking about. A little variety to spice up life.

Look, I am not going all native. I am a woman now, but this doesn't mean I have to go on shopping sprees. I bet most women do it either. That's just a prejudice cliche. But even as a man I had more than one set of t-shirt, pants, and underwear.

And no, I do not count the jumpsuit I got from Myra as a valid alternative.

Wait, where was I. Right. Pasus. Today, he looks a little less scattered. Maybe because I didn't wake him up.

"I just came by to pick your brain. You sell enchanted artifacts, right? I just managed to enchant a piece of clothing and-"

"That is amazing! Your meditation skills must be quite extraordinary."

Oh, the excited puppy is back. Pasus is acting like I just did something special. I only popped in the bra and a potion on the research bench and got an unexpected result. Now, how do I get to explain that to him?

"There was no meditating involved. It just happened. I thought I ask you, as an expert, for a few hints about the whole process."

"Sure. We can- Do you want to come in? We can talk over tea?"

"I'd like that."

What? Yes, maybe I shouldn't get into a stranger's Little Mule, but I don't think Pasus is a threat to me. Honestly, I think my biceps are bigger than his, and I can't even see them under the robe. Besides, I am curious about how it looks inside. More magical trinkets and stuff? Color me intrigued.

Once the door is open, Pasus shows me the way to the stairs. Cute. As if I don't know the layout of a Little Mule from my own. But I have to admit, upstairs is a surprise to me. Gone is the black. The walls and ceiling here are in pastel blue and darker blue accents. I approve. A lot better than the ominous black shown to the outside.

"This is nice. Why don't you color your whole Little Mule like that? I bet it will be friendlier to the customers too."

"I wish, but it isn't that easy. The color scheme is closely tied to my merchant family. People recognize it everywhere and know it belongs to the Antesec family. That they get quality spellbooks here. What type of tea do you want?"

"Surprise me."

That shouldn't be too hard. I hadn't a single Besonian tea so far, but knowing its food by now, I expect weirdness. So far I had stuck to water.

After putting a kettle on the small kitchenette oven, Pasus joins me on the bench. Our elbows nearly touch. The seating is wrapped around a small table that gives this a lot more intimate feeling than I like. Not that there is a choice. Little Mules are small. Just as the name suggests. The upper floor is pretty much modeled like an RV back on Earth.

"About the enchantments. Are they rare?"

Looks like Pasus takes his time formulating an answer. Did he just scratch his chin? Wait, does he have stubble down there? I could have sworn he'd be too young for that. Then again, now that I see him in propper light he appears a bit older. Maybe early twenties instead of late teens.

"Enchantments are pretty common for those of other magical professions. We void traders have to work for them. Usually, they happen if two items on a research bench interact. An event that is rare enough. To influence what enchantment gets added depends on the items and the level of concentration the void-trader can maintain. The longer it takes the harder it is."

"Really? My items influence each other all the time. Though today it was the first time an enchantment happened."

"Don't be discouraged. The general rule of thumb is that adding an enchantment is hard, but improving one is easier. What my family does is buy an item we want with all the enchantments in place with a low quality. Then we research it over and over to improve the enchantments."

In other words, if I sink enough time into improving my new special bra, then I can reenact the "attack of the forty-foot woman" movie. Not sure how useful that will be.

While I was musing, Pasus got up to get the tea. It's still hot, but I have to take a sip. Minty. Very Minty. With a hint of peach. Not that there are peaches on Besona. I think so at least.

"So, I got to ask. Why do you open your shop so irregularly? A few customers of mine commented on it."

"Oh, that-" And he is blushing again. It is awfully easy to get him to do it. "You see I am still new to the trade. My family has these shared stock items. Wares customers expect to find at each Antesec shop. I still got to learn a few of the blueprints, but it isn't easy. Highly enhanced items like that take a long while to research. So, I spend a lot of time meditating to speed it up."

"That didn't look like meditating yesterday."

Just to hide my grin I take another sip of tea. As intended Pasus is blushing even more.

"Well, sometimes I nod off when meditating-"

Oh, this guy. How adorable. I want to pinch his cheek. Hey, I am going easy on him. Essie probably would-

Damn. I forgot Essie.

"Speaking of nodding off. Not sure where my head is today. I am expecting a call from a friend soon. I got to go. Maybe we can continue this soon?"

"I am looking forward to it."

Time to run back to my Little Mule. No, wait. Walking. Running gives too much momentum to my twins. By now, I can ignore them most of the time, but not when I run. Or walk fast. Damn this oscillating effect. It's like my mounts try to break free of my bra.

As soon as I step into my own Little Mule I know that there is a call pending. Up the stairs and I crash on my own little bench in the living room. Now I am ready.

The moment Essie appears I have to do a double-take. She is sitting in the air. Clearly waiting for me on a piece of furniture that isn't included in the broadcast of her projection. Today she is wearing a tunic herself. Just a little longer and with leggings beneath. It would give her a sporty look if it wasn't for her hair. Once again, she has it in braids, but today also in an elaborate updo too.

"There you are. I thought you are blowing me off."

"Sorry, Essie. There was a little errand to run."

"You could have told me, you know." Essie is jumping up before I can question what she means. Is she postering now? Strange. "I am quite close to Awyn. It was her who actually told me that you share a spot at Maynard Mansion."

"You know her?"

I met Awyn yesterday. She is the void-trader specialized in weapons. I only talked to her for a moment, but she seemed nice.

"She's my aunt. Didn't you notice the similarity between us?"

"Uhm-"

I mean both are redheads, but Awyn's is a bit more saturated. In fact, I thought her red hair came out of a bottle as her shade was slightly unnatural in my book. But that was by Earth standard. Maybe Besona has different natural hair colors. If so, then I haven't noticed yet. Aside from Awyn, everyone was blonde, brunette, redhead, or a mix thereof.

"She told me of this nice young void-trader who arrived yesterday with a massive bust. Sounded familiar. Don't you think so?"

"I hate how this is my one defining characteristic everyone now judges me by." Time for me to give a deep sigh. Alright. Maybe a bit theatrical. "What else did Awyn say about me."

"Oh, soo much good stuff. There are quite a few rumors around you spreading through the camp."

"Great. Just great. Stupid big tits. Only cause trouble."

The smirk Essie was giving me showed that she enjoyed teasing me. Maybe there is a little sadistic streak in her?

"Can't be that bad, Lillyn."

"You think? Yesterday on my walk to introduce myself I stumbled upon Xarestes. He's the guy who sells armor around here. First, he wants to dress me up in skimpy outfits so I can seduce my way into adventurer groups. When I told him I am a void-trader he flat out accused me I slept with people to get here."

"What an ass."

"Yeah, you tell me. He also dragged Iren through the mutt. Told me she is some kind of lesbian harems builder."

"Well-"

Suddenly, Essie has a hard time looking me in the eyes.

"Wait, she actually is all that? Is she helping me because of-"

"No! Iren isn't like that, Lillyn. She would never hit on a subordinate of hers. Trust me on that. The matter is complicated. You should maybe ask her about it. I don't want to tattletale."

"Alright. I trust you. If you say it is fine then I believe you. To be honest, everything out of Xarestes mouth I take with a grain of salt. But there is another thing he mentioned and I wanted to ask you about. What are guild ranks? He wanted to know mine."

"Now that I can talk about."

Visibly relaxing, Essie looked around and sat down on a stool I have by my kitchenette. Not on her invisible whatever. Someday I have to figure out the rules of this projection system.

"The guild rank system is on a voluntary basis. Void-traders donate a sum of void-favors every six rotations to the guild. Those funds are then used to pay for guild expenses and to train new void-trader apprentices. Each rank is tied to a specific amount. Rank one is for one hundred void-favors. Rank two is for a thousand. Rank three as ten thousand. The rank system itself is not really official. It is more a thing of prestige. To hold a certain rank shows how well you do as a trader. Holding a lower rank for a longer time is preferable to jumping wildly between ranks."

"In other words, I don't have to do it, but if I want respect from my fellow void-traders then I have to pay to do so."

"Exactly."

"Well, that is straightforward enough. Not sure if I had expected anything else from a guild of traders. Hmm. I wonder what rank Pasus is."

"Oh, who is Pasus? Someone caught your eye?"

"What? No. No. No. No. He is the third void-trader here at Maynard Mansion. Specializes in spellbooks and enchanted stuff. His whole family does, as he keeps saying. The Antesec merchant family."

"Now, that is a family I heard of. Quite wealthy. Most consistently pull a rank three or four through guild donations. So, you talk a lot? What got you interested in him? You can marry into worthy families, you know."

"Essie! Stop."

Now she has me blushing. Yes, there is definitely a sadist streak in her. I hadn't noticed before, but maybe she is warming up to me and is letting loose a bit. Not sure how I feel about that. I rather like it when I do the teasing.

"It's about enchantments. Today I managed to do one by accident and I thought I ask Pasus about the details. That is actually why I am late."

"Interesting. What did you manage to get?"

"Today someone sold me a growth potion. Do you know about that one?"

"The I-want-to-it-my-head-on-the-ceiling-potion? Not a fan."

Well, the Little Mule is a little on the small side, but I think I wouldn't hit my head if I downed one.

"Well, somehow the effect got transferred onto a bustier bra I bought a short while later and put onto the research bench at the same time. Now I can summon an 'Enchanted Maynard Mansion Bustier Of The Servant Maid" that makes me grow fifteen percent in overall height."

"That crazy. I wanna see."

"You just want to see me hit my head."

"Please."

"Fine."

It didn't take too long to summon a copy from the void. For a moment, I contemplated heading into my small bathroom to change, but then again, why bother. We are only girls here, right?

Unequping my belt, tunic, and bra is done quickly. My twins springing free, but only for a moment. Time to equip the bustier that has a longer name than any of the lord of the rings book titles.

As always it is fascinating how a piece of clothing is equipped. A small black ball materializes in front of me. Only to disintegrate into a mist and rushing towards me. It is strange to describe the feeling when something forms on me, but it is done soon enough.

The bustier is made of some black velvet that wraps around my upper torso and cups two-thirds of my breasts. Framing them in white lace. And there is a lot of it. The white lace decorates every edge and even transitions to ruffles on the lower hem. It looks nice but way too girly for my taste. As for the enchantment-

"I don't think it is working. Still my usual height."

"Oh, I see something happening," Essie said before busting into a fit of giggles.

What is she on about? Wait, are my twins growing? And only my twins? What is wrong with this world? My breasts are big enough as they are! Great, now Essie is laughing out loud. I hate this world. Besona can go to hell.

Talk to you tomorrow.
Provided I can ever live this down.

---

---

Hey readers,
Cassy_Bee here.

Looks like Lillyn is in for big changes. XD

I recently mapped out the next four parts.
There are more hijinks afoot.
I have plans for more but how the story develops after part 9 is largely influenced by you guys and gals.

Part 9 will contain a Strawpoll that gives you all a big say on how this story will end.
Stay tuned for that. I promise it is worth it.

But for now,
hugs and kisses.

Cassy.

Besona hates me. I am sure of it. It manifests in a lot of ways. However, yesterday evening took the crown.

I researched this enchantment of a bustier bra with the growth effect. Courtesy of the growth portion taking up the second spot on my research bench. Essie talked me into modeling this bustier bra for her. A big mistake.

I thought the bra would have the same effect as the potion. To increase my overall body size by fifteen percent. Instead, only my twins grew by that margin. Yes, my enormous breasts got even bigger! While Essie was in fits of giggles I unequipped this stupid bra as fast as I could. But the effect lingered.

I was close to panicking when Essie said," Calm down. Enchantments take a while to fade away."

You can not imagine my relief. Everything will be good. After saying goodbye to Essie I threw her projection out. What? She wouldn't stop giggling.

Then came the long wait. A full bell passed. Then a second. I was close to calling Essie a liar when it finally happened. Ever so slowly my breasts shrank again. The effect lasted close to two and a half bells. More or less the same duration as the original potion.

Not that I knew so from the description of the bustier bra. It flat-out omitted the fact that it only enhances one body part and the duration thereof. Who writes these descriptions anyway? Does the world create them? If so, then how?

After this shock, I had a hard time falling asleep. Another night was wasted by mostly lying awake and worrying what Besona will throw at me next.

Now it is morning and my paranoia is still running rampant. I mean look at the facts, Besona is out to get me.

Even eating Hushberry Soup doesn't calm me down much. My favorite breakfast food does taste sweet but looks like my mood. A total mess.

Now, it is time to open my shop. Damn, I am so ready for a vacation, but I still have nearly five rotations left at Maynard Mansion. Twenty-eight days to be exact. Sure, Iren said I could leave early if I wanted, but I don't want to prove my rivels right by leaving so soon. Especially that Xarestes guy.

I think I am ready. Fully dressed in my skirt and tunic. With my old bra underneath. Don't be crazy and think otherwise. Getting dressed in Besona is easy. Just equip each garment from your soul inventory. It literally appears on you. Other aspects are harder. A good chunk of my early morning is taken up by my long dark brown hair. Each night I get knots in it and have to brush it out. Pain in the ass if you ask me. I would cut it off, but Essie advised me against it.

"Think of what people might say," I recall Essie had said. "One wrong cut and people might think you are an outcast. Or worse, one from the Western Empire."

No, I have no idea what the Western Empire is. Essie wasn't willing to explain. Instead, she suggested I should braid my hair as she did. I was willing to give it a try until Essie started to explain the social aspects of wearing braids. Depending on which sections you braided and in what style it told people about you. Making you an open book to them. It was a language of its own.

Thanks, but no thanks. I have trouble with Besonians enough. I don't need to complicate it more by one braid laid wrong and making people think I am sexually attracted to clowns. Okay, probably not that, but you get my point, right? Braiding my hair is shelved for later. If ever.

Since that day I tried Essie asking what her braids said about her, but she never answered me. She only smirks. Sometimes she can be so vexing.

Am I seriously monologuing about hair right now? I swear this world is getting to me. Or being a girl now. Maybe both. This is frustrating.

I better shut up and get to work. Talk to you later.

....

....

"My friend died."

Okay. What a weird way to start a conversation. Or a trade. Some fighter just walked up the ramp and laid this one on me.

"My condolences. What can I help you with?"

The man pulled something out of a backpack and placed it on my counter. A red crystal shining with a light from within. It was an elongated hexagon with pointy ends. Framed with two bronze rings around the center.

"Could you take my friend's soul crystal?"

The what now? Soul crystal? Don't tell me he trapped his friend's soul in that thing. I didn't know this was possible. Besona. This world really is nuts. And frightening.

"I don't trade in souls. Do I look like a necromancer to you? Rising zombies and such?"

The man honestly looked confused. Then he focused his grey eyes on me.

"Look, I have no idea what you just said to me. All I want is for you to take my friend's soul and keep it until the soul-guide arrives. If their reward isn't enough, I can give you one hundred soul-flakes on top."

"Listen here you-"

"Nadare."

What an ass. I didn't even ask for his name. Time to send him packing. Just to be sure I'll try to memorize his face. In case he thinks of coming back. A very square face framed by short brown hair that was a few shades lighter than mine. He has piercing grey hair and a nose that surely must have been broken more than once. The rest was unremarkable. Wearing chainmail on his torso over a padded jacket. I think they are called gambeson.

"Nadare. Get the hell out of here. I don't want some soul crystal or flakes or whatever."

Shaking his head, Nadare walks away. Mumbling something. Not that I care. Seriously, the nerve of some people. Unbelievable.

Annoyed, I wave to my next customer to come up. This one shows me some soul items to void. Back to normal. Or so I thought.

"I take it you had a bad experience before? Lost a soul crystal?"

What is it with these people? Can't we just trade like normal?

"Something like that," I said just to cut off the next discussion. "I don't wanna talk about it. Can we trade now?"

"Sure."

Back to normal. At least, I hope so.

....

....

"Five hundred and twelve void-favors for all."

The woman shakes my hand and another successful trade is done. But instead of making space for the next customer, she leans in closer to me.

"I've got to ask. Do you have a secret selection of potions?"

Why would I hide some of my potions? If I research a new one, of course, I am offering them. Unless it is an update to a potion I already have in my shop. Then I replace it. Only the best for my customers. Well, my best.

But now I am curious. "Like what exactly?"

"Well, if you have a Honeyfirn potion-"

Oh, son of a bitch. This stupid potion again? Apparently, Honeyfirn causes breasts to grow larger. Permanently. Because I have such a massive endowment people assume I have chucked down Honeyfirn potions like a freshman inhales beer at their first frat party.

"These-" I point at my chest for emphasis. "Are all-natural. I do not sell Honeyfirn potions. There is no hidden stash and I never drunk any. Is that clear?"

"Crystal. Damn. I really want one. Why do they have to be so rare?"

Hmm. I've got to admit I feel sorry for her. She is rather flat-chested. Her breasts barely dent her leather armor. I mean, I would switch with her in a heartbeat, but I sort of understand her feelings. Mine were too big for my own taste. Hers are too small in her opinion. We both are like two sides of the same coin. The opposite, yet the same.

"I do have a bra with a localized growth enchantment-"

"You do? Oh, are you wearing one right now?"

Shoot. Why do I have to run my mouth like that? Think, Lillyn. Think. Then again, do I want to get out of it? My trader sense is tingling.

Please, don't quote me on that one. People might get the wrong impression. It's plain and simple intuition, alright?

"No, I am not wearing one. Listen, I happen to have an Enchanted Maynard Mansion Bustier Of The Servant Maid blueprint thanks to accidental research. It has the effect of a growth potion. But localized."

The customer leaned even closer.

"Color me intrigued. How much? Wait! Isn't that the frilly long bra that sometimes drops in the servant quarters or in the main manor?"

"It is," I confirmed.

Is that sale slipping out of my fingers? Such a delicate and restrictive garment might not be an ideal choice for an adventurer. I think I have an idea though.

"Chances are I can replicate my accidental enchantment. But I need a copy of the right bra to make it work. You can either sell or lend me one and I give it a try."

For a moment, the fighter chews on her lower lip in contemplation. Then her eyes unfocus. By now I know that look. She is accessing her soul-inventory. Sure enough, now she is offering me a trade by holding out her hand. Two items float above the palm of her hand. After a quick mental calculation, I match their void value and shake hands.

"Come back in a few bells and I might have something for you. Either your original items back or the enchanted version. But you have to understand that enchantments raise the price."

"I got it. See you soon. Hopefully with good news."

As she leaves I hold up my hand so the next customer doesn't step up.

"I'll be right with you. Just have to put something in the back."

With that being handled I hurry to my research bench. Thankfully it is at the back of my showroom and a little out of view. Time to see what my little genius ploy had brought me.

> Fortified Adventurer's Bra <
> This utilitarian brassiere made with Hounshack leather is specially made for adventurers and restricts the movement of one's endowment.<
> 102 void-favors <

> Fortified Cross-Strap Bra <
> The Staps of this brassiere join in the back between the shoulder blades and then go downward. Giving the garment added support for high-movement activities. The material is Hounshack leather.<
> 81 void-favors <

Both sound complicated. Maybe I should materialize them. Not on me, but in their physical form on my hand. Let's see-

Alright, the first one is easy enough. It's a sports bra. Maybe a little more stiff thanks to being made of leather. I guess that only makes sense. Female adventurers need a lot of support. Moving fast and fluidly. Still, it can't be comfortable if worn too long. I might try a copy later, but I doubt it beats my current bra for comfort.

The Cross-Strap bra looks like a lighter version of the sports bra. Or adventurers bra as it is called here. The cups in the front cover the breasts fully and four wide straps go to the back. One on each side below the breasts and join on the back as a wide band. The other two go over the shoulders and then join together. Then continue as an even wider band down to the band below. I knew I had seen similar bras on Earth but beats me how they are called. But I might try this one later for real. Those wide straps might dig in less and be more comfortable.

Time to throw them onto the research bench. Well, one of them. The second slot has to be the growth potion for it to work. By now, I have researched one version with a nineteen percent boost in size. That one and the adventurer's bra should be a good combination.

The Cross-Strap bra has to wait. In a few bells, it will be its turn. Hopefully with the desired effect. Even if they don't get the enchantment, I am happy. My little ploy has given me access to two new bra types. Now if I only could get my hands of a few other garments. The tunic and skirt combination might get old fast.

Anyway. Customers are waiting. Talk to you later.

....

....

"Next!"

I immediately recognized the female adventurer practically skipping up my ramp. It was she who sold me the two new brassieres about six bells ago.

"Do you got it?"

Yeah, go right ahead. Best if you shout out what we are up to. Hey, people! I sell enchanted underwear! Forget the push-up bra. The future belongs to the enchant-up bra.

"Shush. Yes, I got it. Both of the bras you sold me got the enchantment. But I would prefer it if you don't shout it through the camp."

"Okay. How much for them."

"Hmm. Let me see."

Time to look in detail at what the research bench spat out. A quick craft or two and I have both as soul items in my hand.

> Enchanted Fortified Adventurer's Bra <
> This utilitarian brassiere made with Hounshack leather is specially made for adventurers and restricts the movement of one's endowment. Even if it is enhanced.<
> Growth enchantment - Strength 19 <
> 163 void-favors <

> Enchanted Fortified Cross-Strap Bra <
> The Staps of this brassiere join in the back between the shoulder blades and then go downward. Giving the garment added support for high-movement activities. The material is Hounshack leather and the enchantment is contradictory to the function.<
> Growth enchantment - Strength 19 <
> 130 void-favors <

Is it just me or are those descriptions getting cheeky with me? Just who the hell writes these? Are they the same for each person? Nevermind. I have a trade to finish.

"Normally I would add a little markup and then sell these. Two hundred for the enchanted adventurer's bra and one hundred fifty-six for the enchanted cross-strap. But since you brought me the base version of these I make an exception for you. One hundred sixty-three and one thirty for them. Or two hundred ninety-three for both."

"Both. Definitely both."

My, oh my. Someone is eager. Better make sure she doesn't regret her purchase later.

"Before we trade, there are two details you should know. The enchantment strength is nineteen. That means your breasts grow by nineteen percent. But more importantly, is the fact that the enchantment takes time to fade after stripping the bra. My experiment on a slightly weaker enchantment was two and a half bells."

"That's even better!"

I better shake her hand before my impulse to roll my eyes overcomes me. Another trade is complete. From the perspective of making a profit, this had been a zero-sum game, but I still counted it as a win. Not only used Besona's quirk to prank me to my advantage but also got more blueprints out of it. Heck, I could already feel the profit of future trades rolling in. Of course, there was that small fact of irony that I do now indeed have a secret selection at my shop.

"Listen, be discrete about this. I don't want undue attention."

"Got it," the adventurer promised. "One last question. Do I get a discount for future products I bring?"

You can't see me right now, but I am grinning. A hungry sharkish grin. I hope I don't scare away my customers.

"Yes, but only on your first buy of each."

"Then I will look for more. Now, if you would excuse me, it is time to try seducing a hunk I have been eyeing for a while."

"Good luck."

Well, that is that. Time to return to my normal stock and boring customers. There are more void-favors to be made.

....

....

Last customer. I am nearly home free. It is about time. In a bell or two, the sun will set.

"Thanks for your patronage. Come again."

With a smile and wave, I send my last shopper away, only for my smile to freeze. Crap, someone else is stepping on my ramp. Time to shoo him away. Wait, this isn't an adventurer. White shirt and brown pants? Is that-

"Pasus?"

"Good evening, Lillyn."

"Hey. I nearly didn't recognize you without that robe."

Well, I made him chuckle. For whatever that is worth.

"Well, it gets stuffy over time."

"What brings you over?"

"I am taking an evening stroll around the courtyard. Stretch my legs, you know. I was wondering if you'd care to join me?"

Take a walk with him? What is this? Some shitty romance story? Is Pasus really hitting on me? Well, maybe I am a bit paranoid. Damn, stupid Besona is messing with my head again. Actually, after a day sitting behind the counter, my legs are a bit stiff. A walk is probably a good idea to limber up. That's why he came over. Pasus probably has more experience in those things than I do.

"You know what. That sounds wonderful. Give me a moment to close up shop and I'll be right with you."

Time to raise the ramp and head out.

Wait, my research bench just finished. I should put something new in it. Well, I could expand my selection of enchant-up bras. Time to switch out my current one for a new one. Not the adventurer's bra. Probably too restrictive. The cross-strap it is. And no, not the enchanted version. I am not crazy. Yes, despite talking to an invisible audience in my head.

Thankfully, with the soul inventory system switching clothes is easy. Unequip tunic and old bra. Then equip the new bra and the tunic again. And ready in under twenty seconds.

Hmm, the cross-strap is a bit tighter than my normal bra, but the wide straps are nice on my shoulder. Maybe I should test-

Okay, jumping still sucks, but less so. It really gives more support than my normal bra. Anyway. Time to head out. Or else, Pasus will take a walk without me.

"Here I am."

"Then shall we get started?"

Pasus waits for me at my Little Mule's side entrance and now he is offering me his arm to link into. Is this world serious? Are we entering eighteenth-century romance novel territory? No, wait. Maybe I am overthinking this again. This could be normal on Besona. What do I know of social conventions around here? Next to squat. This could be normal. Time to go for it. It can't be that bad if I mess it up.

Hmm, this doesn't feel that bad. Pasus is a little taller than I am, but not by much. Here we go. A nice little pace. Not too fast. Good for the legs.

"So, how was your day, Lillyn? Did anything special happen? By now I am wondering if you manage to create new enchantments."

How was my day? Oh, right. I started a secret selection of breast size-increasing brassieres. Am I blushing? Shit, I am. Time to distract. What else was there?

"Some rude customer came to me and wanted to pawn off his friend's soul."

"Really? Sorry, I am not doubting you, Lillyn. It is just that trading with soul crystals is illegal. Are you sure it was that?"

"Well, actually, he offered me something if I took the crystal in. The whole matter is confusing to me."

Great, now Pasus stopped and looked at me as if I had grown a second head.

"Lillyn, you know about soul crystals, right? I remember you saying that you had a sheltered life so far, but everyone should understand them."

Great. I once again revealed how clueless I am. How to get out of this one? Well, maybe Pasus deserves the truth.

"To be honest, Pasus, it is a little more than that. I am not from this world. Two rotations back I hadn't even known that Besona existed. Let alone I'd end up here."

"The Church Of The Otherworldly summoned you? I thought they only summon heroes from other worlds. I know the void-trader guild is starved for fresh blood, but to bother the church for it. Strange."

"No, the guild didn't. I am here because of an accident. They summoned a hero, but I arrived instead. Don't worry. The intended hero made it here too."

"Oh, good. We honestly need one."

Pasus really looks relieved. What exactly is wrong with Besona that they summon a hero in the first place? Or a heroine. It is because of Marie, the intended target of the summoning, that I am a woman now. I sort of stole her body.

"That explains why you don't know about soul crystals."

"Ever since I got here I've been trying to play catch up. Would you explain those soul crystals to me?"

"Sure."

With a nod, Pasus starts walking again and I fall in. I mean we are linked in. That is a given. For the moment, Pasus is silent. Probably figuring out how to explain something of common knowledge to someone who lacks such.

"I guess your world doesn't have soul crystals."

"Earth. I come from Earth. And no, we don't."

"Then you only know the final death. The one there is no coming back from. In ancient times we, the Besonians, did so too. But as far as history remembers we always shed a soul crystal when we died suddenly. Only non-violent causes, like dying of old age, are an exception. For us, it was a gift from our gods. A link to those who passed away before their time. It helped with the grief and to say goodbye. Then, after about three rotations, a soul crystal dissolves, and true death takes hold."

"That is kind of nice," I must admit aloud. To have a connection to a lost loved one, even if it is fleeting. "But then why did that guy this morning try to give the soul crystal to me? I think he mentioned a soul-guide or something like that."

"Soul-guides are a profession even older than void-traders. Like us, they specialize in a specific aspect of magic. In their case, it is soul magic. At first, they only managed to find ways to enhance a soul. Make it stronger. But then there was a breakthrough. They learned how to revive a soul crystal. Reconstruct a complete living body based on the body imprinted in the soul. Since then, we have known two forms of death. The fake one when a soul-crystal is released and the final one when a soul crystal dissipates."

Now I feel like a jerk. So, that guy probably wanted me to safe-keep his friend until the soul-guide arrived. Then the friend would be resurrected. And I spewed nonsense of necromancy and zombies around. Great. Just great.

"I guess I owe him an apology."

"You didn't know. And don't worry. One of the other traders probably took the crystal in."

Silence settles over us and for the moment I am glad for it. It gives me time to take in my surroundings. The courtyard is really big and we only finished a small portion of a lap. Just now we left one building behind that looks like a smaller mansion in itself. Small is a relative term here. I guess it is still bigger than the white house. It could be a separate building for esteemed guests maybe.

After a small stretch of reclaimed wilderness, the main building starts. It has four stories and is massive. It is frozen in time a little past its prime. The paint is flaking off and the stone columns outside are rend down a little by wind and weather. But even in its degraded state, it is a sight of beauty. All the struck on the facade must have taken ages to create.

Yet, with all this beauty, my mind can't let go of the past topic. I had to know more.

"That guy. He mentioned something called soul flakes I think."

"Ah, yes. You see, just like void-traders, soul-guides have a related currency. We have void-favors and they have soul-flakes."

"How do they get soul-flakes?"

"We all collect soul-flakes, Lillyn. Every living being. Be it plants, animals, humans, or monsters."

"Sounds icky."

Great, now I made Pasus chuckle. That was not my intention.

"Lillyn. You are part of this world now. That means you too gather soul-flakes. Just by living and breathing."

"Great. Just great. How do I get rid of them? Wait. The soul-guide.
If soul-flakes are a currency, then I get something good out of it, right?"

"You are correct. Soul-guides can use the soul-flakes to enhance your soul by incorporating them into it. Usually it raises a stat of your soul. But they can also be used to enhance a magical aptitude or grant access to special abilities."

Wait a minute! Did I stumble upon a way to raise my crappy stats? If you recall every person on Besona is defined by them. Most of mine are between five and nine. The problem is that the average is ten for all. I am not only weaker than the average Besonian, but also more uncoordinated and run out of steam faster.

"Great. I can't wait to get started."

Was that a smirk? Was Pasus just amused by what I said?

"Slow down, Lillyn. Normal people only gather soul-flakes slowly. You see, if someone transitions to a state of death - be it the fake death or real death - then all soul-flakes that aren't incorporated are shaken loose. They settle on nearby souls. We traders or normal people don't kill much, but adventurers and hunters do. They are getting the most benefit out of this system."

"That's so unfair!"

"You can always try to trade for them. Adventurers that are just starting out hog their soul-flakes as their lives depend on it. More developed adventurers or those that are retiring are more amenable to the idea."

"There goes that idea out of the window. Guess I am stuck with my stats."

Our little walk nears its end. The main building was now behind us and was now replaced by a very utilitarian one. I have no idea what that one is for. With not much time left, I have to bring up one more topic that is giving me a headache.

"So- How do stats actually work? The concept always struck me as strange."

"Oh, that is quite easily explained. I liked my grandma's approach best. Imagine two guys. They are exactly the same in every aspect save for two. The first guy has double the muscles and a strength stat of five. The other has a strength stat of ten. Yet, when they arm-wrestle neither would win. Their effective strength is the same. Stats represent how well a soul can utilize their body."

"In other words, double the stats equals double the muscles. That means someone with a lower stat can still reach certain heights. It is just harder to achieve."

"Exactly. I hope this helps, Lillyn."

"It does. Thank you."

Now we are getting close to where our Little Mules are parked. Wait, is that Awyn leaning on Pasus Little Mule? Does she want something from him? Or maybe from me? She is Essie's aunt after all.

"Pasus. Lillyn. Enjoying the evening? You make a cute couple."

"We are not- This was just to stretch out legs."

Okay. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed away from Pasus like that. It makes me look like a small child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Not the impression I want to give her.

While I am flustered, Pasus is more level-headed. "Are you waiting for me? I closed up shop for today."

Now, Awyn is waving him off. "No, your wares are outside of my budget. And not what I need. I wanted to speak to Lillyn. When I saw you two taking a walk I just thought waiting here might be best."

"Is this about Essie?" I ask. "She is your niece, right?"

"She is, but I wanted to confirm a rumor. About a certain secret selection of items you sell that-"

"Bye Pasus. It was nice. We have to repeat that."

Apparently, Awyn doesn't mind if you clamp your hand on her mouth or shove her in the direction of your Little Mule. She just giggles. Great. Just great.

"I told her to keep it a secret."

"The news is spreading like wildfire through the camp," Awyn mumbles through my hand. Well, we are far away enough from Pasus that it isn't needed anymore.

"So it is true, Lillyn?"

"Yes, I researched enchanted brassieres that enhance one's breasts. It was an accident. Then I spotted an opportunity for profit and- The rest is history."

"Spoken like a true trader, Lillyn. Be proud of it."

Do you hear that? I am a true trader. It isn't pervy at all. Heck, underwear needs paddling too.

"Thanks."

"Can you show them to me? I am quite curious."

"There are only three for now. And I won't model them for you. Not making that mistake again."

"Aww. But now I see why Essie likes you so much."

What is it with this family and teasing? What was the saying? Like aunt like niece? Something like that. I don't think you need to witness what comes next. Talk to you all tomorrow.

Welcome back. I skipped narrating today's events because let us be honest. Most of the time, being a trader is kind of boring. You don't want to hear me haggling over a few void-favors with each customer, right?

Okay, I have to admit, scores of women acting all sneaky is amusing in itself. My new special enchanted bras are flying off the shelf. Well, if I would put them there. They're supposed to be secret, but judging by my many requests for them, it wasn't a very good one. At least there is one positive aspect. I made nearly four thousand void-favors in one day. Three of those through my special bras alone. Not a bad haul. Though I expect interest to diminish in a day or two. It's not like bras are consumable and need constant resupply. Still, it was a nice bonus.

While tidying up my shop, I can already spot Pasus lounging close by. He hadn't been that hesitant yesterday, right? Well, I spotted him late, so I can't tell. To be honest, I've been looking forward to another walk with Pasus. No, I am not into him. I told you, this isn't a shitty romance story. I swear if you weren't my imaginary audience I would bet someone would already ship me with him.

The reason is that Pasus is now one of the few people that know I am from Earth. A fact that I don't throw around lightly. I only have Essie to talk about it. While she is patient with me, it comes with teasing. A lot of it. Little sadist that one. I don't mind most of the time, but Essie and her Aunt Awyn teaming up is a scary experience.

Before Pasus can make up his mind, I push the button to close the ramp of my Little Mule. Now he springs into action. Too late, sucker. Acting like I haven't noticed him, I wait until the ramp is closed. Time to walk out nonchalantly and do some teasing myself.

"Pasus. What a surprise," I say as I step out and find him with a hanging head before my closed-up Little Mule. "I liked our little walk yesterday and thought I might have one today too. Care to join me?"

"O-Of course. Good evening, Lillyn."

"Good evening."

Just to flip the role of yesterday more I offer him my arm to link into. What? I am a gentleman. Even though I am now a woman and in a different world.

While we start our walk, I glance at Pasus. Today he is wearing a light blue button-up shirt and dark blue pants. The latter is made of dyed leather I think. Do they even have jeans here on Besona? Or even cotton for that matter? Anyway, I have to do my most darn of not smirking or laughing. With his pasty skin, Pasus looks like a gradient from dark blue to white. Not the most flattering look. Even I, as a fashion snob, can tell that this isn't a good choice.

"That Maynard guy must have been very rich," I muse aloud as we walk past the smaller mansion building.

"He was," Pasus confirms. "Right, you don't know. Alysander Maynard was a tinkerer and mechanical genius. We void-traders owe him a lot."

Wait, that guy and void-traders are connected. Color me curious.

"How so?"

"When Alysander was young, he had a dream. To build a ship, but one that could sail the land. To fly wherever it needed."

"Sounds like our Little Mules. Wait, he invented them, right?"

"Correct, but it took some time. His first ship was called the Little Sparrow and it was tiny. As in one person could sit in it. Barely. But it got people talking and soon he had a few investors. Over the next decade, Alysander created his first commercial ship. The Little Swan class. It was designed as a pleasure vessel. For all those rich investors to travel in style. Since it didn't have a storeroom it had enough space to house one person nicely or three if they squeezed in. The real genius was that Alysander designed it in a way that the Little Swan could be upgraded. With a fully upgraded version mocking the name by being anything but little."

So, the flying equivalent of a yacht. No wonder Alysander Maynard got rich quick. Owning a Little Swan probably became a status symbol.

"So, why are void-traders using Little Mules instead of Little Swans?"

"Well, Little Swans aren't exactly cheap. But there is another reason. When Alysander Maynard was alive the void-trader profession was fairly young. Just a few centuries. They either stayed in one place or traveled the land in caravans. Both options weren't very profitable. One lacks the customer base and the other spent most of their days traveling. However, one void-trader family that managed to amass wealth looked at the Little Swan and had an idea. They actually commissioned a new ship type from Alysander. Made for traders and favoring a more practical interior to be more affordable."

Now, that made sense. A more practical ship for a practical profession.

"And that's how the Little Mule came to be. Interesting."

A good-natured laugh makes me look at Pasus. Did I say something wrong?

"This story is far from over, Lillyn. You see, the new ship type was never completed. Alysander had his hands in a lot of projects and the ship was delayed and delayed again. At some point, the merchant family got angry, so Alysander threw them a bone. He gave them a prototype. The Little Mule as we know it."

"I see. Did he die or why was the ship type never finished?"

"This happened," Pasus said and gestured to the whole area. "The mansion and the surrounding land became a hardened space. Do you know what this means?"

"My friend Essie explained it to me. That this area refuses changes to its reality or something like that. So, Alysander is still out there? Stuck?"

Now, Pasus is nodding.

"Sadly, yes. Behind this main building is a wharf. The adventurers call it the garage. A large underground cavern that was the main tinkering spot for everything related to flying ships. There, adventurers reported is the nearly finished prototype of the ship in its most upgraded form. Protected by Alysander Maynard and a literal army of mechanics and automata."

"Never to be finished as this would mean change."

What a sad story. I already pitied those trapped in the mansion. This story only reinforces the notion. Walking by the facade of the main building, I wonder how many other sad stories are bottled up here. Waiting to be told.

Now I know the story of my Little Mule and her sisters. No, wait. Something is missing. A piece of the puzzle.

"If the Little Mule we know is only a prototype, how come there was a trader at Tsundore Fields selling upgrades?"

"Good thinking, Lillyn. After Maynard Mansion fell into its hardened state, the merchant family claimed the Little Mule as their right. Ever since then, they have been researching the Little Mule and its upgrades. They are the sole provider of Little Mules ever since."

"I think I met one of them. Pretty rude. Part of me just wants to make enough void-favors to break their monopole and show them their place."

"Lillyn, don't"

Shit, Pasus stopped me in my tracks and is now staring at me with concern. Grabbing my arms with just a little too much force. I've got to admit, he is scaring me a little.

"Lillyn, that family is rich and not above playing dirty. People who try encroaching on their turf tend up dead. But not before they leverage the guild to outright banish someone. The guild knows that if the family refuses to sell Little Mules, then it will be back to fixed shops and caravans for them. They even got the guild to sign an agreement that only they can trade in Little Mules and Little Swans. They control the market."

"Okay. Pasus, I get it. Let go of me."

Shit, this got awkward real fast. Pasus had stepped back and is mumbling apologies. Meanwhile, I rub my arms. Hope they don't bruise. Well, I can drink a health potion later.

I think I see Pasus in a new light now. He is stronger than his lanky build suggests. Probably a high-strength stat. I don't think he wanted to hurt me. The opposite. The thought of me going against that family scared the shit out of him. I think he cares for me. More than he lets on.

Shit, this is awkward. Does he think I hate him now? Maybe a change of topic might be good.

"What else there to Maynard Mansion? Obviously, we are standing in front of the main building and behind it is the wharf. What is the purpose of this building? The one we walked past first."

This sudden shift clearly threw Pasus off, but not for long. I think it dawned on him why I did so. The relief on his face was evident.

"That's the guest mansion. Alysander had many visitors. Most stayed in the many wings of the main building, but now and then a person of status arrived. Royalty or a high-ranking member of a guild. Those would be granted a stay in the guest mansion as a sign of respect."

"That's a pretty big sign of respect," I comment lamely. What? Got to keep the ball rolling. "What else is there?"

"You may not have noticed, but between the guest and main mansions is an overgrown path. It leads to a labyrinth made of sculptured hedges. A gift to his children, but now one of the worst nightmares for adventurers. They not only have to battle servants and forever lost guests. The very hedges come alive to harass them. Coupled with narrow pathways it makes for a claustrophobic experience."

I never understood the appeal of a labyrinth. Be it from hedges or cut into a cornfield. They always struck me as creepy. Then I was proven right when I saw the fourth Harry Potter movie. Damn, now I am even more glad I am a trader and not an adventurer.

"Can't they burn the whole thing down and be done with it?"

"The hedges resist fires really good," Pasus said and shot down my hopes. "But sometimes you hear explosions around here. There are most likely from a mage cutting a short-cut into the maze by force."

"Sounds like a great idea to me."

Pasus was offering his arm again and after a small moment of hesitation, I link into it.

"We are now coming up to the gap between the servant dormitory and the main building. This is the easiest way to the garage. Along the way are smaller pleasure gardens and pavilions for social relaxing. It was the second area to be liberated as not much of resistance was present."

"So, this is the servant dormitory," I ask as we arrived at the very utilitarian building that bordered the pathway leading back to our Little Mules. "That explains why it is so plain."

"Actually, it is a bit of a misnomer. You see, Alysander invented many things. One was automatas. Contraptions that could move on their own and perform tasks following a set of specified orders. Some of these order structures could become quite elaborate."

"Sounds like robots to me. That's what we call them on Earth."

"Well, these automatas, robots, were clunky at first, but Alysander poured a lot of time into them. They resembled more and more humans in appearance and their specified list of orders actually managed to fool some visitors into believing they were alive."

In other words, androids. Once again, Besona manages to surprise me. Most of it is like a typical fantasy world. But now and then something advanced comes along. Like flying ships, skyscrapers, or now robots. We aren't even close on Earth to making lifelike androids. It is an intriguing topic and I would have loved to pick Alysander Maynard's brain. But he was lost. Just like his inventions.

"Maynard was a genius," Pasus continues. "But his character was flawed. You see, most of the servant staff weren't human. The so-called Servant Maids were all modeled after human women. Attractive ones too. This led early on to speculations about Maynard's deviant nature. Now, that adventurers explore the mansion, we know that was only the tip of the iceberg. Maynard was into a lot of strange stuff and he attracted like-minded people."

"If all these Servant Maids are robots, automatas, why do they need a dormitory?"

"That's why it is a misnomer. The Servant Dormitory is more like a storage and maintenance area for the automatas. You can find them all over the grounds and buildings, but this building contains hundreds of them. After the garage, this is the second most dangerous area of Maynard Mansion."

Creepy androids in sexy uniforms. Why do I get a horror movie vibe here? It explains the bustier bra I got from one adventurer though. That one wasn't practical. More likely designed for visual appeal.

"Still, some adventurers brave-"

My voice trails off as I notice that Pasus is distracted. His gaze locked at something in the area our Little Mules were parked in. As I look there myself, I see another Little Mule land. Though this one was longer than my own. Maybe by one-third. The hull was painted in an intricate design of intertwined lines of red, white, and pink.

"Is that the soul-guide?"

"No, Lillyn. They are due tomorrow. It is a void-trader, but a high-ranking one. Do you see the golden crest there on the bow? I think someone messed up. Big enough to warrant a personal visit."

Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling? Oh, right. Because I am on Besona and every time I relax, the world stabs me in the back.

"Looks like we better cut this tour short."

"There isn't much else, Lillyn," Pasus said as we start to walk again. "The mansion is surrounded by woods. They are caught in the hardened state too. A few monsters and wild animals. Not very difficult, but as the woods are vast, it is hard to weaken the area enough to unfreeze them. Directly behind our Little Mules and a stretch of woods is a lake. There are a few guesthouses and some boats. Not a very difficult area either, but it lacks good loot and most adventurers look elsewhere for opportunity. I wouldn't recommend swimming there though."

Pasus rambling broke off just as we arrived at the first Little Mule. The one owned by Xarestes (the asshat). Just now the ramp of the new arrival lowered and a woman stepped out. She sported an elaborate dress that began with a gray neck holder strap and flowed into a tight top. It accentuated her athletic build perfectly by being skin tight but also having an eye-catching design of layered bands of ribbons. At her hips, the grey material gave way to strands of wispy blue silk that joined together to form a cloudy skirt. Then I noticed the woman's hair. It was blond and knotted into dreads. Contrasting slightly to her tan skin. I don't think I need to get any closer to recognizing her.

"Iren." There was no doubt about it. "I think I better confront her alone, Pasus."

"You know her?"

"She is my mentor. Sort off. I owe her a few favors and she is probably here to collect. Don't worry. I'll be fine. Thank you for the walk."

After giving Pasus a reassuring hat on the hand, it is time to face Iren. She probably wants me to do something that I won't like much. Like the rotation, I spent at Kingswood Forrest. Though this time she shows up in person so I can't run my mouth in front of her like I did last time. When she was just a hologram in my Little Mule.

Getting closer, I was once again reminded of Iren's beauty. Or maybe the last few times I had been too angry or annoyed to really notice it. She clearly was older than me. Maybe by a decade. The backend of being thirty. Still, she had some youth to it, and damn she was athletic. It makes me feel like a couch potato.

What also struck me curious was her outfits. The first one had this pirate chick flare. Like a female Jack Sparrow from those Disney movies. Then a perfectly tailored tuxedo that accented her female form while still giving a very formal look. And now a dress that couldn't be wrong at a royal court.

"Iren," I say as I arrived. Time to get this over with. "How deep am I in trouble."

Okay. I admit. I expected a lot. Not Iren breaking out in a burst of loud laughter. Barely hidden by a hand she raised to cover her mouth.

"Oh, Lillyn. You aren't. Don't worry. This is a courtesy call. Come. Step into my office."

Walking up the ramp behind Iren I was in for another surprise. There wasn't a counter or shelves like my own Little Mule was sporting. Instead, there was a big desk and a comfortable seating arrangement. Iren chose the latter to gracefully sit down. I fear my own sitting down was barely half as elegant.

"Shouldn't you close the ramp?" I ask.

"Sometimes it is good to be seen. Speaking of. You look good, Lillyn. Is Maynard Mansion treating you right?"

"I can't complain."

Well, I could. But I doubt Iren would care for my trouble with Xarestes. I can handle that idiot myself. Ignoring him is a valid strategy, right?

"Don't be so tight-lipped, Lillyn. I am not here to scold you or cause trouble. I invested a lot in you and I would like to hear I did the right thing. Are the void-favors rolling in? Did you go for potions, as I suggested?"

"I did. Got all the basic ones. I mostly researched upgrades to the ones I got. Though I managed to make some hybrid potions. They grant a bonus to two stats instead of one."

Great. Iren is starring at me. Did I say something wrong? She looks a little lost in thought.

"Lillyn?"

"Yes?"

Here it comes. I can feel Besona pulling back for another whammy in the guts.

"Is there anything else you researched? Maybe something- New."

Shit! Of course, Iren has a spy.

"What did Essie tell you?"

"So there is?" Now Iren is leaning forward. Eager. With a hungry look in her eyes. "I must admit Essie has been tight-lipped recently. Quite unlike her, but we'll talk about her later. What did you research?"

"It is embarrassing."

"I don't care, Lillyn. Tell me."

Such steel in her voice. No wonder Iren got into a position of power. Her whole aura was one of dominance. To make you feel she was in charge.

"It was an accident. I was researching a growth potion and a brassiere at the same time. Somehow the effect of the potion got transferred to the bra."

"A garment with an enchantment to make you grow taller. That is new."

"Well, only-"

I didn't have to gesture long around my breasts before Iren got the meaning. Leaning back, she looks oddly satisfied.

"You know, you got me worried for a bit, Lillyn. But this proves that my decision to back you was right. You don't know how relieved I am."

"Because I made a bra that grows one's breasts?"

"No, Lillyn. It is what it stands for. Progress, Lillyn. Progress. Ever since our profession came into being we had been in competition with traditional manufacturing. We are convenient and quick. Able to supply right at the spots where it is needed. But our research is slow. Advancements in traditional crafts outpace us. Not by much. But since we can't transfer blueprints from one person to the next, every new generation has first to learn the old blueprints before working on improving them. This makes us fall behind."

Right. Pasus told me he is still researching items that are standard stock for every other trader of his merchant family. How long does that take? Probably a long time, judging by Iren's passionate explanation.

"And my enchant-up bra helps how exactly?"

"It's a side effect, Lillyn. A symptom of your high void affinity. For you, it is easier to have two items on a research bench to influence each other. And that is what I was counting on. Lillyn, there were only three void-traders who reached an affinity of thirteen. Only one who reached fourteen. Whenever an extraordinary void-trader walked this world new inventions are discovered. Market niches developed no one before had even considered."

I think I get it. What Iren wants me to do. Was this why she had been supporting me from the beginning? Being generous with her own void-favors. Setting me up with my own Little Mule.

"You hope I find new avenues of products. Something that only we can provide. But won't traditional manufacturing try to break our grasp of the new products?"

"They undoubtedly will, Lillyn. But it might take generations. In this time, we can prosper again. Right now, our very guild is in decline. Has been for a century. We are mostly deduced to service adventurers and void trash no one else needs. This could help us become popular again. Attract young blood."

"What do I need to do?"

"Nothing, really. Just be a void-trader." Iren is giving me a knowing smile before elaborating. "It is in your very nature as one with high affinity to stumble upon new products. Just continue as you did. And if you stumble upon one develop it a little. Take your brassiere with the growth enchantment as an example. Did you manage to reproduce this accident? If so, there could be a market for it."

"I did. There may have been a secret selection in my shop."

"You see? Lillyn, you already started."

Great. No pressure at all. Just single-handedly revive a guild in decline. What could be easier than that? Iren is putting a lot of my shoulders. Maybe I should mess with her a bit?

"If you are correct, why should I share my new products? I could be egoistic and hoard them all. Get rich and leave the other traders in the dust."

"Spoken like a true void-trader." Iren doesn't even sound offended. Even a little proud. Curios. "Lillyn, you have barely been here for a few rotations and already stumbled upon your first product. Who knows how many you have in a year or decade. There is only so much you can sell yourself. If you develop a product you can pawn it off to someone else. Many traders will pay a small fortune to have a monopoly on a product. Maybe even found a merchant family based on it. You will gain more than just riches. Lillyn, you have the potential to be the most prestigious void-trader of this generation."

"I guess I can try."

"That is all I ask. Lillyn, I know you have been sent to Besona by accident. The church of the otherworldly might dismiss you as a hero, but for us, the guild of the void-traders, you might be the savior we desperately need. Not that all of my peers would agree with this assessment. But I also think you can find a home here. Your instincts as a trader are evident. Given time, I think you will fit in nicely."

Well, color me speechless. Towards, Iren I mean. I know I am currently talking to you. This is heavy stuff. I was glad when the whole summoned hero from another world was handed off to Marie. The one originally summoned. I am not the heroic kind of person. Now I got a new purpose. Great. At least, if Iren can be trusted, I can sort of wing it. Make things better as I go along.

"I still stub my toes left and right, but thanks to a few people I get the hang of things."

Again, Iren is giving me a long glance. As if I am a puzzle to figure out.

"Is Essie one of them?" Iren finally asks. "I know she can be a bit- Too enthusiastic."

"It is fine. Granted, she teases me a lot. But Essie is good at explaining things. I am glad you assigned her to me."

Iren gives a deep sigh. Only to turn serious and look at me straight. "It's a relief I could pawn her off to you. When she asked me to be your teacher I honestly felt a little bad for you. Then again, you owe me."

Wait a minute. What's Iren's problem with Essie. She isn't that bad. I mean it when I said I count her as a friend. And what was it about Essie asking Iren to be my advisor?

"I thought you assigned Essie to me."

"I did. After she may have bribed me. Honestly, she didn't need to, but it spared her ego. This sounds like I don't like her. Don't worry, Lillyn. It's not that. She just can be exhausting. You see, I am her hero. The very role model of what she wants to be. And not just as a void-trader. She used to follow me around like a lost puppy. But not in the last few rotations."

"You threw her a bone," I pick up aloud. "Me."

Iren is leaning back and laughing. Guess I hit the bullseye.

"Guilty as charged. Don't be deceived by her, Lillyn. Ever since you walk through my trade hub Essie was intrigued by you. She is a sweet girl, but she wants something from you."

"And what would that be?"

"There is no fun in telling you. Now, I think my little visit has come to an end. I've got to fly back and return to my duties."

Now it is my time to smirk. "A good way to dodge the question."

"You know it."

As we rise up a sudden thought pops into my head. Xarestes had made certain accusations regarding Iren and Essie hadn't exactly refused them. Should I ask her about it?

"Something on your mind?"

Busted. Apparently, I took too long.

"You should know there are rumors about you."

Iren gives me a small amused shake of her head while sauntering to the ramp of her Little Mule.

"There always are. Some of them are even true."

Well, that's just vexingly mysterious. Not helpful, Iren.

"Someone ran their mouth and said I was sleeping with you to get here. Or that I joined your- Well. Your Harem. And that this is my reward."

There is a short frown on Iren's face. Then it turned to resignation.

"I told you why I am helping you."

"So there is no harem?"

"Oh, there certainly is."

Woah, what? Really? I join Iren on the ramp, but she doesn't walk down. Instead, she is starring at the camp. Lost in thought.

"There is a saying, Lillyn. A void-trader has a lover in every town. An exaggeration, but certainly true for a few of us. You see, I made a name for myself as a trader of high fashion. My clients are not adventurers, but ladies of the court. I charm my way into the hearts of quite a few of them. Much to the dismay of parents and grandparents. People in a high position."

"Officially, Lillyn, there was nothing they could do. It was their daughters' and granddaughters' choices who they slept with. But they could remove the temptation. I was offered the position of hub-master in a town. A position too prestigious for me to refuse. Of course, it would mean I'd be stuck there. Their trap worked. And the guild elders knew that it was against my code of honor to pursue subordinates of mine."

So, Iren got caught with the hand in the cookie jar and she got a promotion from it. All to keep her away. She must be kind of notorious to warrant such action.

"Sorry, it didn't work out the way you hoped."

My sentiment of sympathy was overshadowed by a loud laugh from Iren.

"Oh, don't feel sorry for me. Pity my enemies. Let's just say that a lot of ladies of the court started to rent or built vacation homes close to my trade hub."

She gives me a mischievous wink and starts walking down the ramp. I've got to hand it to her. Iren is really something else. No wonder Essie is eager to learn from Iren.

No, wait a moment. Didn't Iren just say Essie wanted to learn more from her than just being a void-trader? Does that mean Essie wants to build a harem? Is that why she asked Iren to be assigned to me? There had been a lot of teasing and she already saw me half-naked.

A little lost in thought I follow Iren down. My mind already dreading the next call I get from Essie. That might turn out awkward.

"Lillyn, I know it is a lot I place on your shoulders."

Yeah, no kidding. The fact that Essie might be into me. Oh, wait. I think she means the whole being the savior of the void-trader deal.

"Don't worry about it," Iren continues. "Just be the best trader you can be and have fun with it. The rest will fall in place by itself."

"I will try."

I mean, yeah. Why not? It's a big deal, but compared to Marie, it's pocket change. She has to save Besona from something. I gladly take traders and possible seduction attempts over that. Wouldn't you?

A few pleasantries later Iren is walking up to her Little Mule again. Her ship's ramp now pulling up and now it is lifting up into the sky. Iren's visit had been short but she has given me a lot to think about. I guess I talk to you all tomorrow. There is brooding to be done this evening.

---

---

Dear readers,

sorry that this part is late.
My 'extra vacation' ended as suddenly as it started.
Now I am back to full-time working again.
I hope I will manage the next parts on time again, but I can't guarantee it.

As a little gift of apology, I include a little bonus. Ever since part 1 of TTkFMMAT I had to figure out when Leon/Lillyn narrates something in her life and when she doesn't. I wrote a little guide to consult myself and now I am sharing it with you.

Have fun.

Hugs and kisses,
Cassy

---

Lillyn's Narration Guide:

Lillyn is an unreliable narrator. She might highlight/narrate things she finds interesting or flattering to her ego. On the other hand, she might withhold parts that are embarrassing to her.

Lillyn might start a narration when:
- She thinks something interesting or annoying is about to happen. (The many false flag narrations are omitted for reader - convenience.)
- She wants to recap something that happened that annoyed her.
- She wants to boast about an accomplishment.
- She spots someone she likes and wants to share the experience of the interaction.

Lillyn might stop a narration when:
-Things get boring.
- She stumbles into an embarrassing situation that she can't even downplay by becoming overly annoyed.
- She comes into a situation where she can't spin into something showing her off as good or positive.

Lillyn might omit or downplay situations that:
- Are purely embarrassing for her.
- Are a repeat of something similar to what she already narrated.

Finally the junk I am looking for. Oh, right. You have no idea what I am talking about. I had a spark of genius. Provided it works. Yesterday I had a visit from Iren. The leader of the trading hub I first stumbled into. I owe her a lot but it turns out she expects great things from me. Namely a whole bunch of new items and products this world hasn't seen yet. No pressure, right?

She told me it might occur naturally and it did. When I invented my 'enchant-up bras'. (Trademark pending.) Brassieres that temporarily make your breasts grow by a fixed percentage. Since yesterday I gave it some thought and I am now convinced I spotted the building stones that lead me to this researched product. Think about it. The 'accident' of researching my new product happened when I acquired two items new to me. The growth potion and the Maynard Mansion Bustier Of The Servant Maid. Then I research them by happenstance at the same time.

My takeaway is this. I need to try different combinations of items and hope to get lucky. And here I see my first problem. I only have a limited amount of them. Of those that I have, not all work. Take my food for example. I researched them all, but only Hushberry soup and Papush ice cream work for creating new objects by recoloring them. I think because only those two have a uniform color in their original form.

That leaves me with the conundrum that I need new items to try for research. Yet since the potion and bustier, I get nothing but junk. And then I thought maybe that's the way out. What if I can use junk to research new things? Maybe I even can fix the junk itself.

Look, this is what my latest customer dumped in my lap:

> Sack of Servant Maid uniform scraps <
> This burlap sack contains 67 pieces of fabric that once belonged to various parts of the Maynard Mansion Uniform Of The Servant Maid. <
> 442 void-favors <

If I place those scraps on my research bench then I hope I can pull out new items. Maybe other parts of the Servant Maid set. Then I could try to enchant those too. Grow my secret inventory. Maybe it becomes more than enchanted underwear. Adding the uniform it might be-

A freaking costume shop. Okay, maybe not that. But the second haul of my customer is more promising.

> Crate of Servant Maid body parts <
> 21 destroyed parts of the Maynard Mansion Servant Maid automata are stored in this crate. <
> 532 void-favors <

How cool would it be to have my own android? Or automata as the Besonians call it. Did old Maynard even sell those? If not I could make a killing selling these to rich households. And if I can't get them to work, maybe I get at least mannequins out of them. That could be a product too.

However, researching those junk items will have to wait. Currently, my research bench is occupied by my Papush ice cream and all my 'enchant-up bras' taking a turn. Who knows? Maybe some woman likes to wear a papush colored bra on her adventure outings.

Not to mention that I have to open those containers first. Right. I haven't told you about the Besonian's way to cheese their own soul-inventory system. I told you that I have nine slots in my soul-inventory and a bunch more in my Little Mule. Well, those nine slots are the default for every person on Besona.

Apparently, they can be expended by a soul-guide, but it ain't cheap. So, the Besonian's found this trick. Instead of having a bunch of items taking up a slot each you can place them before in a container. Said container in your soul-inventory will still only take up one slot. No matter how many different items are in there. But to retrieve a single item from it you have to first materialize the whole container again. A slight hassle, but it works well in general.

I first stumbled upon this exploit on Tsundere Fields. Both the void-traders for my new appeal and for my haul of basic potions had used it. Otherwise, I would have had to make several trips back and forth to my Little Mule.

Anyway. For now, I pay for this junk with void-favors I have saved up. Then later, I can open the crate and sack and see what's what. Sounds like a plan? Alright. Talk to you later.

....

....

"What can I do for you? Voiding items or do you need potions?"

"Well- Uhm-"

Some customers are such a drag. Under the counter, I am drumming my fingers in impatience. It can't be that bad to decide between two options. Maybe the man is still a bit green behind the ears? He looks barely out of his teenage years.

"I wanted to inquire- There is a rumor that you have a secret selection."

Strange. I had plenty of female customers now that bought enchant-up bras. But this was the first time a male customer asked about them. I wonder just how secret my selection of enchanted bras really is.

"Probably more than a rumor by now," I admit aloud. "Do you want to give it as a gift? Most are in brown but I am expanding right now with Papush colored versions."

The man is scratching his head and now looks around him. Damn, boy, this is not a drug deal. No one will suspect you buy female underwear except if you act sketchy as heck.

"What if I buy them for myself," he finally asks. "Will they work?"

Wait, what? For himself? Why does he want breasts? There must be an explanation. Maybe he wants some just to play with them? Test some things and get a feel for them before his first time with a woman? Nah, I don't think so. Or is it more to him? Is it may be part of cross-dressing? Or is he transgender? Do Besionians even know what that is?

So many questions. But the biggest one remains. Will my enchant-up bra work on a man. I think I have the answer.

"I never tested it. The enchantment probably works in general, but it won't do you much good. The growth enchantment works with percentages."

"And ten percent more of nothing is still nothing."

Great. Now he lets his head hang down. Shit. What do I say?

"I wish I could help you. Is there no other way?"

"Well, the soul-guide, you know?"

"A soul-guide can give you breasts?"

"Well, yes. When they remodel your body. I wish I had the soul-flakes to afford it."

Hold on a minute! Soul-guides can do that? I could get rid of my mammoth mammaries. Or even-

"They can change one's gender?"

"Yes. You didn't know? It is expensive though. The reason why I became an adventurer."

"To gather the soul-flakes needed," I conclude out loud. "How much is it? The remodeling:"

"About two hundred thousand."

Holy freakin' heck! What the hell? That might as well be a billion. There go my hopes and dreams to become a man again. Since Pasus mentioned that soul-flakes are a currency like void-favors I looked into my soul-display or whatever one calls it. In all my time so far in Besona, I collected twenty-seven soul-flakes. Just by existing. I came here about what? Two rotations ago? If I average it out and then divide the two hundred thousand by it then-

I won't have enough to afford it in a century. Not even two. Gathering them naturally that amount is just plain impossible. No wonder this boy decided to become an adventurer. Killing monsters and such is the only way to get faster access to soul-flakes. And of course, my own stats are so crappy it isn't an option for me.

Pasus mentioned one can buy soul-flakes, but it isn't cheap. Just how many void-favors do I need to afford it? Is there even enough supply? Shit, no matter how much I want to become a man again it looks like it won't happen for a while. Maybe never. At least if I go the traditional route.

"Look, what's your name? Mine is Lillyn."

"Malan."

"Well, Malan, nice to meet you. Tell you what. Your plight is surprisingly close to my heart. I promise I look into it. If there is a way to get you your dream gender besides the soul-guide option then I will try to find it."

"Really? Thank you."

Maybe there are potions for that? Or enchanted gear? If not, maybe I can research it. It sounds like a long shot, but more likely than amassing two hundred freakin' thousand soul-flakes.

Not to mention that a lot of people will be glad if there is an alternative. Do all transgender people on Besona choose the adventurer lifestyle? Just in the vague hope to earn enough one day to become those who they always wanted to be. It is a sad prospect, but maybe I shouldn't bitch too much about it. Compared to Earth at least Besona has an option.

"But now, skedaddle. I need void-favors to do research and that means I need customers. You are holding up the line. If I find anything, Malan, I will come to find you."

After thanking me profoundly, Malan eventually clears the ramp. I hope one day I can make my promise true. Though I might not do it as Lillyn. But that is wishful thinking. I have no real clue where to start. Still, I have hope now. Here I am. Thinking that I stuck as a woman forever. I never stopped and considered that Besona, with all its magic, might have a way for me back.

Damn, this is slowly getting out of hand. Wasn't the void-trader profession be laid back? Just void a little. Do some research. Rake in profit. Now I am to save the void-trader profession from slipping into a lower social tier for Iren. Meanwhile, the world dangles the juicy carrot of returning to my own gender in front of my nose. My own goals, like dethroning the asshole family that hoards the Little Mule monopoly, are getting pushed aside.

Well, time to get back to work. Maybe slow and steady will do the trick and get me there. No choice but to try it.

....

....

End of work. Well, of me serving my customers. A little early today, but I don't care. What's a better advantage of being self-employed if not for making my own schedule?

Pasus will probably be around soon for another walk in the evening. I don't mind. Being cooped up in my Little Mule all day can be tedious. But before I stretch my legs there is something I need to do.

At my lunch break, I surveyed the trash I bought of my customers. The crate was a little disappointing. It contained nearly all parts for an automata except the torso. The rest was in a sorry state. Hacked to pieces. scorched, or smashed and dented.

At least now I understood what Pasus insinuated with Maynard being a pervert. The automatas heads looked like finely sculptured women. However, less like models and more like porno stars. Two other features stood out. The joints of the automata were balls. Just like those of dolls. I could not spot a means to move them. No artificial muscles or motors. Strange. Save for the ball joints the Automata had artificial skin covering them. Surprisingly life-like to the touch. At least those parts that weren't burned or melted by acid.

The sack of maid uniform scraps wasn't more promising by a lot. I could tell that they were once part of clothing, but not any specific piece. They probably had been worn by the servant automata in the mansion right up to the moment when adventurers took them apart with all kinds of weapons and destructive magic. The amount that was left spoke of how resilient the automata really are.

Just to try it out I put maid uniform scraps onto both of my research bench slots. Then I got so busy that I couldn't check on the progress in the afternoon. Until now.

I know I researched something, but not what. Let's see what I got.

> Nerun-quarter of Sorentian Velvet <
> Sorentian Velvet is a highly sought-after fabric popular with high society. This is a standard sample size of this textile typically offered by merchants. <
> Dyed: nightshade black <
> 78 void-favors <

Interesting. I hoped for a repaired garment. Instead, I get a restored piece of fabric. Time to craft a piece and materialize it.

Aha! As I thought. It is the same soft material most of the bustier is made of. This could be useful in the future, but probably as a stepping stone for other projects. I am not entirely sure what a Nerun-quarter is, but it appears to be a rectangle of about twenty-five by twenty-five centimeters. Maybe a little bigger.

Time to look at my second prize won in the wheel of research.

> Torn pieces of the Servant Maid uniform <
> Larger pieces of fabric that once belonged to various parts of the Maynard Mansion Uniform Of The Servant Maid. <
> 8 void-favors <

Isn't that what I put onto my research bench? Let me get the original and compare it.

> Scraps of the Servant Maid uniform <
> Small pieces of fabric that once belonged to various parts of the Maynard Mansion Uniform Of The Servant Maid. <
> 7 void-favors <

Great. I made small stuff into slightly less small stuff. I am such a genius. Well, jokes aside. Maybe I am onto something. My hope was that maybe I could research a complete garment by just pushing in heaps of scrap. Instead, I got only a step closer to it. But maybe there is still hope. Maybe I can research this junk over and over and slowly repair the pieces with each step. Getting closer and closer to a finished product. It might take time though. No wonder normal void-traders avoid researching trash.

Did my Little Mules bell just ring? Must be Pasus. Time to shove the torn pieces onto the research bench and get going.

....

....

Huh. I thought this would be a quiet evening. Not much more to narrate. My walk with Pasus had been quite peaceful so far. If you discount the distant sounds of explosions from the hedge labyrinth. We haven't even cleared the path in front of the guest mansion when suddenly the camp is stirring.

A few adventurers point to the horizon and I can't help but look too. A ship is arriving. Slowly settling down where Iren parked hers just yesterday. But this one didn't quite look right.

"The soul-guide arrived," Pasus remarks from beside me. "A little late."

Right. They were scheduled to arrive today.

"Why is their Little Mule looking so strange?"

The ship was a little slimmer than my own Little Mule but made more than up for it in length. It had an elegance to it that my ship lacked. Not to mention a large panorama window on the second level that had me a little jealous.

"It's not a Little Mule. That's a Little Swan. Aside from wealthy people and aristocrats only soul-guides and the church of the otherworldly uses them. Do you want to take a look?"

I was tempted. Sure. But I doubt it would be a good idea. There is already a long line of adventurers forming. It might take quite a few bells before it would be my turn. And then what? Stare at upgrades I couldn't afford? Not to mention the one I really wanted and was eon hundred and ninety-nine thousand and nine hundred seventy-three soul-flakes short?

"Maybe next time," I say aloud and pull Pasus back to our walk.

"Are you sure?" he asks me while falling into my walking rhythm. "They never stay for long and they won't be back for two rotations."

"Quite sure. I can satisfy my curiosity another time. Let's just enjoy the evening."

Good morning my loyal imaginary audience. Sorry that I haven't talked to you in the past five days.

I felt a little under the weather.

Moving on. Essie is calling. It's a bit early. In fact, I am still munching on my breakfast. Normally, we chat in the evening. Right after my walk with Pasus. Strange how quick habits can form.

It doesn't take me more than a thought to accept her call. After all, my Little Mule and I are connected through magic or some shit.

Contrary to normally, Essie is still in her casual clothes. A tank top and a short skirt. I know later she would change into more conservative attire for her void-trader duties. But now, she gave a bountiful view of her skin and assets. Was that on purpose? Ever since talking to Iren, I can't shake the feeling that Essie is trying to seduce me.

"Morning Lillyn." Essie gives me another of her concerned looks. I grew tired of them in the last few days. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine! Everything is back to normal. I told you I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

"It is perfectly normal-"

"To move on with another topic? I think so too."

Essie is giving me a big sigh and then shakes her head. What a drama queen. So theatric. Thankfully she got the hint.

"How goes your foolhardy quest of researching junk? We all at the hub are very curious if it will work out."

Damn. Essie really has a knack for backstabbing me with uncomfortable topics. I pull one dagger out and she already has the next one ready.

"It doesn't. I am stuck!" There. I said it out loud. "Everything went great. I got a few fabrics out of it and gradually researched less damaged fabric scraps of garments. I even got to the point that I do have access to all the parts of the servant maid set. Skirt, stockings, dress uniforms, and so on. But in a very badly damaged state."

"That sounds like great progress. So, what's the hold-up?"

"I can't progress further anymore. Previously I could pop two of the same level scrap onto the research bench and I would research a less damaged version out of it. But ever since I researched the individual parts of the uniform it doesn't work anymore."

Essie leans on the wall and thinks it over. Giving me time to return to my breakfast. That took precedence. I wasted enough time thinking about this dilemma in the past few days.

"Maybe something else is needed to progress further?"

"No shit Sherlock."

"What is a Sherlock and what has it to do with not defecating?"

"It's a saying from Earth. Don't worry about it."

"That reminds me!"

Essie is pushing off the wall and comes over to sit at my small table. If she hadn't been half-transparent I might have forgotten she is only a projection.

"The Church Of The Otherworldy finally responded to your request."

It was about damn time. Look, some aspects of Besona still don't make sense to me. I thought someone from the church might know more. Luckily I already knew someone sympathetic to my plight. Myra had been the acolyte priestess I literally stumbled into the moment I arrived at Besona. While I only had a moment with her she appeared to be nice and not stuck up like the rest of the church. I asked Essie if she could locate Myra for me and get her to contact me. That was about two rotations ago.

"And?"

Essie is leaning forward. Giving me a good view of her assets. No, Lillyn, don't get distracted. You got your own. More than enough to entertain yourself. Come on, Essie. Spill the tea already.

"It's strange. So far I always got a reply along the lines of no comment. But now they said Myra is on an errand and not available for some time. Since when is the church running around? They only have a temple in our town. It doesn't make sense. Where else would they go?"

"Where indeed."

Maybe it has to do with the arrival of Marie. The intended hero that arrived after me on Besona. Like me, she is from Earth. However, as much as I trust Essie I better keep my thoughts about it secret. I mean I confided in her that I researched junk as an experiment. Next thing I know the whole trader hub she is working at knows about it.

No, I didn't tell her to keep it secret. I thought that was granted. This experiment was a long shot anyway.

"Well, that is all I have for you today," Essie suddenly revealed. Standing up and stretching. "I've got to get going. Counter duty."

"See you around. And thanks for telling me."

Instead of a reply, Essie only gives me a wink and then vanishes. Once again I am alone. Not for long as my own counter duty was about to start. A long day of dealing with customers. Yay! Or not. With each day it becomes more of a chore. I wish I could take another day off or two, but I already did in the last few days. It only means more customers will be waiting on the next day.

Talk to you later.

....

....

Oh shit. I know that guy coming up the ramp. That's Nardare if I remember right. Last time he had a simple request and I blew him off. More than that, I was off my rockers because I once again missed out on some crazy aspect of Besona. At least at that point. Now I knew better.

To be honest, I dreaded this moment. It is time for my reckoning.

"Is it okay if I trade with you?"

Nardare's question caught me off guard for a second. His voice is rough. Weary. Watching me closely with piercing grey eyes.

"It is," I assure him. "But before that-"

Deep breath, Lillyn. You can do it. Time to lie your ass off. But convincingly. Here we go.

"I've been meaning to apologize to you. Last time I wasn't in a good state of mind. I nearly lost a soul-crystal before. The soul-guide was late and there was only one day left. And before I got these strange unsavory offers. I hope we can put my little outburst behind us."

There. How is that for an apology? Yes, I own up to my mistakes. Even those based on bad intel.

Come on, Nardare. Answer me already. Stop looking at me like that. It reminds me of my old principal when I was sent to him for another misdeed I did. I mean, not a misdeed. Misunderstanding. That's it. Hmm. Nardare might be around the same age as the old dean.

"I guess that is alright," Nardare finally rumbled out. "My friend got resurrected just fine. It's all good."

The hard look on his face is softening and he offers me a hand. Of course, I shake it. But still, his eyes look at mine. Something of that strikes me as eerie. But what?

My tits! Sorry, I mean my chest. He has not looked once at it. Not even a glance. Despite my breasts having plus ten to distraction. Okay, there is no such stat in Besona, but you know what I mean right? Everyone glances at them. Some were more covert than others, but they all fell for them. Even gay people. But not so this guy. I mean this is what I want from every customer, but now that I have what I wanted it feels strange. Do you know what I mean?

"Can we trade now?"

"Oh, right. Yeah."

I let go of the hand and sit back down at my counter. Damn, that man was strange. Barely speaks any words but still manages to rattle me.

"Do you want to void items?"

"Yes."

What the hell? Now he is offering me his hand for trade and I see three soul-inventory icons for crates. Each one with a void-favor value of above a thousand. Altogether it is close to three and a half thousand. That's a lot more than the usual value for junk. Color me intrigued.

A trade later I got three crates of congealed Zitoraxs slime. The two more valuable ones I void outright. The third I intend to keep. Slime, in general, doesn't sound intriguing, but I've got to find out what makes it so valuable.

"Something else?" I ask after trading back the void-favors owed. Minus my ten percent cut. "I got a few good potions that-"

"No, thank you."

He's just walking away like that? No goodbye or so? Maybe if I-

"Thanks for trading. Come again."

A lazy wave of the hand while walking down my ramp. That's all I get? What a vexing man. So different from my usual clientele. I am not even sure if I should be annoyed, offended, or just plain confused.

Anyway. Back to work.

....

....

"You are unusually quiet," I remark.

I was on my daily walk with Pasus in the evening. Normally, he would entertain me with a bit of background and history of the mansion or its inhabitants. Or amusing little stories of him growing up in a trader family. But today, he was quiet. Barely spoken a word. Now we just passed the small path to the hedge labyrinth and I had enough. What is up with him?

As an answer, I got a deep sigh, and Pasus stopped. Instead, he is looking at me, his gaze is off in the distance.

"Lillyn, what do you know about the Western Empire?"

That does ring a bell. I think Essie mentioned it a few times in passing.

"Not much. Why?"

"They are progressing."

What's that supposed to mean? And why should I care? Or Pasus for that matter.

"And?"

"They are early." Shaking himself out of the stupor, Pasus finally looks at me. "Sorry. The Western Empire is an enigma. They started out about fifty years ago on a small island. Every five years, without fail, they conquer a new country. Steadily advancing eastward. But now, they not only declared war on three neighboring countries a year early, but two already have capitulated. Rumor is that the third one won't last much longer."

There is a predatory empire rampaging around? Maybe that's why Marie was summoned from Earth. And by extension, I landed here by accident.

"Are they that close?"

"Not really. About two rotations of flight time in our Little Mules. It is just those rumors. They say the Western Empire is abducting valuable void traders and dragging them back west."

Right. Pasus is a member of a prolific merchant family. It makes sense to target him. Should I be worried too? Probably not yet, but if word gets out of my high void aptitude then all bets are off. Not to mention if I discover more new products. At least if they are related to warfare. I doubt the Western Empire wants to equip its soldiers with breast-increasing brassieres.

"You are worried they might come for you."

"No. Not really. But my family is." Now, Pasus looks away from me. Unable to look me into the eyes. "There was a big conference call last night. The family decided to move operations up to the north and far east. All members are to shift positions immediately."

"Wait." I push on his shoulder to make him turn around and face me. "You are saying you are leaving?"

"Yes, Lillyn," Pasus admits with a frown. "I don't want to, but they're family. I can't simply deny their request. Not when they are looking out for me."

So that's why he has been so quiet. This will be our last walk together. To be honest, I've grown appreciative of them. And of Pasus. He has become a good friend. As much as Essie is. Maybe even a little more. I'd be lying if I said I won't miss him.

"When will you leave?"

"This night. I should have gone yesterday but I wanted to say goodbye in person. And to give you this."

Instead of showing a soul-inventory icon in his hand, Pasus is summoning a physical copy. Materializing into something gleaming and metallic.

"A bracelet?"

Is this a gift? As in a special gift. Maybe the customs in Besona dictate a special meaning.

"It's a Bracelet Of Shielding. One of the artifacts my family offers. It can cast a shield spell around you if needed. It is not as strong as a skilled mage could, but it might prevent some harm from coming to you. May I?"

Pasus is asking for my wrist and why not? I let him put the bracelet on me. It is a practical gift and surprisingly thoughtful of him. Normally I don't give a hoot about jewelry but this might be useful later. Not to mention that it isn't one of those dainty girly bracelets. It is quite wide. The individual parts are even a little chunky. Most of it is some grey metal, but it has a pattern of lines in what I think is silver engraved into it. On my wrist, it flares out slightly and hoses a big blue gem and four small red ones. Yep, not girly. This is what I expected a practical artifact with enchantment to look like.

A weak chuckle makes me look up to Pasus.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head," he taunts me.

"Is that so? What am I thinking?"

"You already trying to guess of ways to modify the bracelet through research."

Oh damn, he is right. This opens up a whole new line of research. It also means I have access to a second enchantment in general. At least in theory.

"I wouldn't do that to you, Pasus. It's your family's exclusive, right? I won't steal a blueprint from you."

"Lillyn, it is only stealing if you sell it as is or only slightly improve it. If you change the bracelet in a major way or manage to transfer the enchantment then it's all yours. In fact, I kind of hope you manage to enchant your normal wardrobe. It would keep you safer, right?"

"Right. I'll try my best. Maybe one day I can repay you by giving you a few items with the transferred enchantment."

"If you want. It's not why I gave this to you. Now, how about we enjoy the rest of our walk?"

Once again he is offering me his arm and I take it. We continue our walk, but maybe we both are a little hesitant. Walking slower than usual.

"I guess this will be the last time we talk for a while."

"Well, we could call each other through projections. It isn't cheap, but I could afford one once a rotation."

"Our Little Mules can do that?"

"Sure. You didn't know that?"

"No one told me."

That would have been nice to know. Thanks, Essie. Next call we have some talking to do. Wait, maybe she didn't mention it on purpose? Trying to keep me to herself? Nah, I probably imagine things. Since Iren came by I am a little paranoid around Essie.

"All you need is the serial number of the Little Mule you want to call. Mine is seven three nine six. Do you know yours?"

Do I? Maybe Iren mentioned it once.

"Not from the top of my head."

"Well, looks like you have to call me first. Then you can give me your number and I can take the next turn to call."

"It's a deal."

A few more steps brought us to the path in front of the servant dormitory. But we both stopped as something shot through the sky. Slowing down, I could make out the elegant shape of a Little Swan. But this one was trice as long as the one of the soul-guide. A few times the length of my own Little Mule. Clearly, it was a Little Swan upgraded to the max.

"Who's that?" I ask as it was setting down in the spot usually reserved for the soul-guide.

"Not a soul-guide or the Church Of The Otherworldly. They are the ones usually traveling by Little Swan," Pasus muses out loud. "Probably the kid of someone rich or royal. They travel in luxury and have a small hoard of retainers who drag them through hardened spaces to farm soul-flakes fast. Wouldn't be the first time, but I admit I have never seen a Little Swan this much upgraded."

"I'll probably find out soon enough. Hope they aren't too spoiled and demand things I can't provide."

"All bets are off on that one."

"Great."

All too soon we arrive at Pasus' Little Mule. Time to say goodbye. Well, we can still talk. But it won't be in person. I might continue my walks around the courtyard in the evening, but it might be not as good without the company.

Arriving at my own ship, I can't help but unequip the bracelet and shift it into soul-inventory form. My curiosity is just too great.

> Bracelet Of Shielding <
> A plain bracelet that was modified to house an enchantment. <
> Enchanted: minor cumulative personal shield <
> Active ability: Spends charge to summon a personal shield or reinforce an already established one. <
> Passive ability: While inactive it collects 23 points of charge each bell up to 451 points. An active shield steadily loses 46 points of charge for each bell.
> 672 void-favors <

Well, that is quite intriguing. From the looks of it, the bracelet takes quite a while to fully charge and it won't last forever. Those four hundred and fifty-one points aren't much either. Not even a tenth of my own health points. Still, it might work in a pinch and absorb a few strikes of an enemy. Not that I want to find out. Still, with a little research, I might improve upon it.

Well, I wish you all a good evening for now. It is time to chew out Essie for her tardiness to reveal some information. But you don't need to witness that.

---

---

Hey readers,

once again Cassy_Bee here.

I've got great news for you. For you, I constantly work to improve my writing to give you the best experience possible. That's why I recently watched a ton of youtube videos on how to write stories involving all five senses. Exciting, right?

However, all five might be a bit hard to do right at the start. So, starting at part 10 I will add taste. That's right. Taste! Get ready for Lillyn to lick everything and everyone. Followed by a description in excruciating detail. I hardly can wait. Can you?

That's all for today. Cya ya next time.

Hugs and kisses,
Cassy

Finally, it is morning. I tossed and turned in my bed tonight instead of sleeping. My mind circled about the possibilities the Bracelet Of Shielding Pasus has gifted me. It had an intriguing enchantment but wasn't very strong yet. Here, take a look as a reminder.

> Bracelet Of Shielding <
> A plain bracelet that was modified to house an enchantment. <
> Enchanted: minor cumulative personal shield <
> Active ability: Spends charge to summon a personal shield or reinforce an already established one. <
> Passive ability: While inactive it collects 23 points of charge each bell up to 451 points. An active shield steadily loses 46 points of charge each bell.
> 672 void-favors <

The maximum charge is barely a tenth of my health points. Yes, it is stupid to have health points in the first place. And stats. But such non-sense is the normal reality of Besona. How they exactly work I don't know. Can someone survive a knife in the heart if they have enough health points left? I don't know. To be honest, I don't want to find out.

My first impulse was to try rotating all my clothes on the research bench while the bracelet is taking up the second slot. In the hopes of shifting the enchantment over to my regular clothes. But is that really the best way?

When I managed to research my enchant-up bras their growth enchantments were of the same strength as the growth potion I used. Now, I have to research stronger enchantments for each bra one at a time. Maybe if I manage to boost the bracelet's enchantment first, I can transfer a stronger enchantment later. Smart, right? I know you would agree.

But how to do that? I could research the bracelet over and over again, but that takes time. Well, I am rather impatient. So, my thinking is this. The bracelet has to run on magic, right? So, it needs mana. That's what everyone collects to cast spells. Until they run out. Then they drink one of my products. A mana potion. That's why I popped one onto the research bench in the middle of the night along with the bracelet. At least then I got a few bells of sleep. Now is the time to see if I was successful.

Damn, I failed. Yes, the bracelet got stronger, but not by much. A few points more overall charge, two points to recharge speed, and one point to charge loss while active. Guess this was a bust.

Wait a minute. I've got a new blueprint unlocked. A potion?

> Potion Of Shielding - Strength 30 <
> Drinking this potion grants the user a personal shield with a charge of 600 points or strengthens an established shield by this amount. The shield loses 61 points of charge each bell <
> 66 void-favors <

Oh, that is so much better. Granted, compared to others the potion isn't cheap, but it is stronger in effect than the bracelet. And it is consumable. That means I can sell it again and again instead of only one item. Provided I can entice it to customers. Maybe to mages. They might value having some added protection without having to dress up in armor.

Well, now that I have a stronger potion, I can throw in a copy of my normal clothes and see what it gets me. I think I start with my tunic. Then breakfast and opening my shop. At least this will distract me until research is done again.

I talk to you again when it's finished.

....

....

Change of plans. There is something strange going on. My shop isn't even open for a full bell and I spotted a strange customer in the waiting line for my shop.

It's a young woman, but I am pretty sure she isn't an adventurer. She isn't wearing armor or one of those robes wizards and mages favor. Instead, she is dressed casually. Not unlike myself. But what really stands out is her hair. It is a dark metallic blue. I swear, if I wasn't on Besona, I would guess that color is from a tube. It can't be natural, right? I haven't seen anyone with such a colorful mane of hair. Well, maybe Awyn. Essie's aunt has her weapons shop here. Her red hair is a little too vibrant to be normal.

But there is something else. I could swear I saw her before, but I can't place her. Oh, here she comes. Maybe if I get a closer look I can't place her.

"Good day. I am here to- Leon?"

What? She knows my name? Well, my former name. The one I had on Earth.

"How do you know that name?"

"It's me, Leon. Myra. The priestess that welcomed you to Besona."

Oh my gosh. Now I see it. That's why she was so familiar. Back then I have seen her only in a dark robe and some tight headwrap. I hadn't seen her unusual hair color or much of her figure except for her face.

"Myra, I've been looking for rotations for you. Well, a friend of mine. No wonder they couldn't find you. What are you doing here?"

Hmm. She looks nervous. After a glance around, she is stepping closer to me.

"I guess it is alright to tell you. But you've got to keep it a secret."

"I swear. Now out with it."

"I am part of Maryn's entourage. You know, the summoned Hero from Earth. We keep her arrival a secret until she is strong enough."

Right. I wasn't the intended soul to arrive on Besona. Marie was. I guess she took a Besonian name just like me. My huge knockers are thanks to her. Apparently, she had been rather flat-chested on Earth and always wanted to have a huge bosom. So, Besona provided her ideal body. Only for me to land in it by accident. A fact I am still not happy about.

"I see. I guess the large Little Swan that arrived yesterday evening is from the church then? We guessed rich adventurer kids, but if you keep this trip a secret it makes sense your ship doesn't have the church symbol."

"We are on a mission to get her stronger fast. And we need to keep it a secret, Leon."

"It's Lillyn now," I correct her. "Maryn isn't the only one who took a new name to blend in. Don't worry. I'll be discrete. How long are you guys staying? I have so many questions for you."

"A rotation. Maybe two."

"I usually take a stroll around the courtyard in the evening. Maybe you'd like to join me in the evening?"

Myra looks to be in thought for a minute but then nods. "I guess that will draw less attention than me blocking the waiting line here for much longer."

"It's a date then," I confirm. "Now what can I trade you to keep the cover intact?"

After a few standard potions, I saw Myra walking down the ramp. What are the odds? I have Essie look everywhere for Myra just for her to walk back into my life on her own. And here of all places. Well, now I have a new reason to look forward to the evening. Hope Pasus doesn't mind that I go with Myra-

Wait, what am I thinking. It's not that Pasus and I are a thing. This isn't cheating if I take someone else on an evening walk. Stop overthinking things Lillyn. Argh. Back to work. Customers are waiting.

....

....

Lunch break. Finally. But first, I have to check up on my research. With Myra arriving I nearly forgot. Let's see. The potion's strength was enhanced by one level and my tunic-

> Simple Tunic Of Sustaining <
> This simple tunic is made with fine bleached and dyed Hounshack leather strips and hardened silver thread that was woven together. <
> Enchanted: minor sustaining of personal shield
> Passive ability: Reinforces a personal shield with 5 points of charge each bell. <
> 311 void-favors <

Strange. It can't create a shield of its own. But maybe it isn't totally useless. Apparently, shields lose part of their charge each bell and this strengthens one. Meaning that this tunic will make any shield last longer. Now I am curious. If I have enough items on me that add charges can a shield be sustained indefinitely? Well, there is only one way to find out. Time for a copy of my skirt to join the Potion Of Shielding on my research bench.

I might as well try the new tunic on. After all, it works in combination with the Bracelet Of Shielding Pasus gave me.

It switched colors! The original is this light cream color. But this one is light grey. A little metallic. And it has a pattern sewn onto it with some metallic thread. Right, the description said silver was used. Interesting. The pattern reminds me of the circuitry we had back on Earth.

Well, back to work. But first, lunch.

....

....

It's evening. Time to close up shop and get ready to meet Myra. It's about time I get some answers. But first, I have to check on my research.

Another level of strength for my potion and-

> Plain Skirt Of Sustaining <
> This skirt is made with fine Hounshack leather strips woven together. It was dyed black and accented with hardened silver thread. <
> Enchanted: minor sustaining of personal shield
> Passive ability: Reinforces a personal shield with 6 points of charge each bell. <
> 325 void-favors <

With the five points of charge income from the tunic, I could offset eleven points of the charge upkeep from any shield. That would mean a shield from the bracelet would only lose thirty-five each bell. A lot more for a shield made by a potion. Still, everything helps I guess.

Now to try it on. Great. It didn't change color like the tunic. I was worried for a bit. No, I still give a crab about fashion. But running around in all gray is not my style. The skirt is all black, but it too has the circuit-like pattern in silver on it. It really pops against the dark fabric. I like it a lot.

I mean-

It is tolerable.

Right. Time to head out. New skirt and tunic. Check. In my inventory two of the shield potions. Yep. And on my wrist the Bracelet Of Shielding. Not sure about what I am gearing up. Maybe the paranoia of Pasus' merchant family is rubbing off. That Western Empire doesn't sound good. Still, now that I can gear up, why shouldn't I?

Time to head out. I hope I don't have to wait long. No, wait. There she is. That blue hair of hers really stands out. Even in the setting sun.

"Hey there."

"Hi," she says while giving me a small wave with her hand.

Right. My evening walk. Do we link arms as I did with Pasus? Maybe not. How do women interact with each other on Besona? Or in general.

"Ler's walk."

"Right."

We aim for the path in front of the guest mansion. This, of course, leads past the grand Little Swan parked right beside my own Little Mule. It really was a class of its own. Outshining the ships of us void-traders.

Time to forget about ships and focus on Myra. Wait, was she studying me while I was distracted by the Little Swan? Two can play this game. Her most obvious feature is her metallic gleaming dark blue hair. Now that I am close to her I see even her eyebrows are blue. Either she is very committed to dyeing her hair or it is indeed natural. A strange thought.

Her eyes too are an unnatural color. Not quite blue or green. A strangely vibrant aquamarine. Her face is heart-shaped with pronounced cheeks. You know the kind, right? By her cheeks alone I got the impression that she smiled or laughed a lot. And her lips appeared downright kissable.

Like me, she is wearing a long wide skirt. Though hers is brown. Further up she wears a blue top. Matching her hair nicely. While shapely, her chest wasn't as overblown as mine. Which I would count as a plus.

"So, you had questions, right?" Myra suddenly asked. "I mean I hadn't much time to explain anything to you when you arrived."

Shoot, I was distracted by my own narration. I blame you, my imaginary audience.

"Hardly anything," I concur. "By now, a few others had filled me in. But they only know so much. To them, this world is normal. You and your church appear to have a connection to Earth and other worlds. Maybe you can understand my confusion and alleviate them."

"I'll try my best," Myra promises me. "But bear in mind I haven't been a priestess of the church for long. In fact, I was only raised to this rank two rotations ago."

"Okay, the most important one first."

I quickly check if we can be overheard. No, not many pay us any mind. A few adventurers glance in our direction, but most are busy prepping for dinner, erecting additional tents, making their beds, or other busywork.

"Alright. So, I am from Earth. From the United States of America. There, we speak English. I die. Get send to Besona. New world. Magic. Different culture. All that shebang. Now, why the hell are we still speaking English?"

Great, I made Myra chuckle. Not my intention. Even if it looks kind of charming.

"I should have known this might be your first question. It was one of Maryn's too. In fact, this was expected and one of the things I was especially taught to answer. So, here it is. You speak English. Everyone around you is speaking Eastern Cobondaian."

"What? That doesn't even make a lick of sense. Are you saying I have some build-in translation spell or device?"

"I understand your confusion," Myra assures me. "It is like this. The Church Of The Otherworldly has summoned heroes from other worlds for a long time. There was always a language barrier that hindered their quests. But we wisened up. You see there are a near-infinite amount of worlds out there. On some languages developed that are close or even identical to our own. Earth is such a world and it has several countries that speak a language so similar to Eastern Cobondaian that they are practically identical. We simply changed our request for a hero that comes from such a world. Most often, it is from Earth."

In a convoluted way, this actually makes sense. Parallel linguistic evolution, huh? Interesting. Well, good for me I guess. I was never good at learning other languages. Believe me, you don't wanna hear what is left of my school Spanish classes.

"I see. So how does this work? The summoning of heroes. Is that the purpose of the church?"

"That's complicated. But I'll try my best to explain. Normally more senior priestesses take this part over. The church was founded over a millennia ago. You see, there was an event. Invaders of a different world attacked us. We repelled them to where they came from. They left behind artifacts. A few people who grew up around them noticed a strange connection. They could feel beyond the veil. Outside of Besona. They were the first. It is a rare gift. Only those influenced by otherworldly forces may develop it."

"What's your influence, Myra? I mean you have to have one, right?"

"My hair of course." Just to underline her statement, Myra is running her fingers through her hair. Giving me a good view of her unnatural color. "You see, blue hair is not a natural hair color on Besona. Yet, I was born with it. There was a fad a few decades back. Potions that can change one's hair color for a while. They are based on hair dyes we got from Earth. Both my parents had consumed potions for blue hair. Not knowing that I would inherit this effect as I was conceived."

"Hold on a minute." I stop Myra just before the fork in the path that leads to the hedge labyrinth. "You inherited a potion effect? That doesn't make sense."

"Lillyn, don't mistake Besona for Earth. In your world, one inherits traits based on the original body of the parents. Here, it is based on the current body."

"That would mean potions change the DNA of a person and-"

"Let me stop you right there, Lillyn. The church does know the Earth's concept of DNA. But we could not confirm it for Besona. In fact, we couldn't even confirm that living beings here are made up of cells as they are on Earth. You've got to remember. This is a different world. The rules are not the same."

Holy shit. Let me-

I have to sit down a minute. No cells? Then what am I even made of right now? Do they have atoms? Molecules?

"Deep breath, Lillyn. Everything is okay."

That's easy to say for you, Myra. Your entire worldview didn't just up and jumped into the trash can. What are we even made of now? Shaped smoke and wishful thinking? A collection of tiny soap bubbles that collectively decide to take up form? This hurts my brain. Seriously. This is fucked up.

Wait. What did Essie explain to me about the void? That it is unbound substance with endless possibilities? If we void-trader pull something from the void we give it a material form but limit its possibilities. In other words, everything around me is just realized ideas? If so, whose?

"I think I am losing my mind. What even is reality around here?"

"It is malleable, Lillyn. That's what the church is all about. It is also how we summon things."

Great. Now Myra is crouching down to me. As if she is consoling a small child throwing a tantrum. Well, I mean I am sitting in the dirt with tears in my eyes. I bet someone is already looking. Judging me. Time to get myself together. I am a big boy. Urg. Girl.

"You have to explain that to me," I request while getting up.

"It is like this. Knowing about other worlds granted us insight into our own. Those that founded the church learned that they can shape the very reality of our world by making prophecies. Of course, our reality resists. For a lack of a better term we 'negotiate' until we find a prophecy that we can get carved into Besona's reality. But we have to be careful. Once a prophecy is cast reality itself prevents us from changing it."

Dusting off my skirt, I try to assimilate what Myra told me. So they simply make up a statement of the future and Besona shrugs and makes it happen? And I thought the void-trader profession was overpowered.

"So, you demand something and the world bends to your will?"

"It is not as easy as it sounds. Calling a prophecy about Besona alone is hard. It is easier to ask for something to be added from the outside."

"I think I get it," while slowly starting to walk again. "If you ask for a hero from Besona, the world has to find a suitable person and bend them to a new fate. While getting a soul from another world leaves the reality of Besona pretty much untouched."

"Exactly," Myra confirms. "I have a good example. It might even cheer you up a little."

"I am all ears."

After this disaster of new revelations, I could use a pick me up. In whatever form it may come.

"When the higher-ups of the church confirmed that the prophecy for a new hero was in place, I started my own prophecy. I asked Besona for the arrival of a gift that might cheer up the arriving hero. Soon or later I knew they would feel home-sick and I wanted to have something to alleviate their pain. It took me a few rotations of slow negotiating, but I managed it. My first prophecy. It was what I needed to become a priestess. And last week my prophecy came true and I got this."

Myra is holding out her hand. Not to show me a soul-inventory item. Something is materializing in her hands. It kind of looks like-

"Is that an apple?"

"It is. Go ahead. Take it. You need it more than Maryn right now."

Reaching for it my hands are actually trembling. It can't be real, right? Besona with all its weird food. I thought I never see food from Earth again. But it feels real. Solid. Looks delicious too. Mostly red skin, but a good chunk fades to green.

"What's wrong? You don't want to eat it?"

"It's not that I don't want to. Myra, if I research this on my ship, I could have an apple any day. I could give copies to you and you still could give Maryn some. What? Did I say something wrong?"

Myra is actually now looking worried. Is she angry at me? A deep breath later, she appears to relax again.

"I am sorry, Lillyn. It is just- It is forbidden for a priestess to give otherworldly items away. Especially to void-traders. It didn't use to be like that. Just two generations ago the church and the void-traders were the best of friends. But something changed. The priest who gave away the hair dye that later became the potions my parents consumed actually got thrown out of the church."

"I will keep this a secret. Myra, I swear. If you let me research this apple, I will not sell it. Only you and I will know about it. No one else."

"Fine." Stepping close, Myra is looking me straight in the eyes. "I am putting my life in your hands. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't. I swear it."

As Myra steps back, I make the apple dematerialize. Hiding it in my soul-inventory. Now, I hardly can wait to return to my Little Mule. One quick research and I can taste apples again. As much as I want. I could kiss Myra right now. Well, I better not.

"Is it working out for you?"

"What?"

I got lost in my own head again. What was Myra talking about?

"The void-trader profession. I asked if it is working out for you. Are you happy?"

"All things considering, I guess I am. Granted, Besona is throwing me a lot of curveballs. Uhm, things to catch me off-guard. But overall, I manage. most of the time I am even happy to trade with people. And I got a knack for researching things. Most aren't very useful, but I am starting to get the hang of things."

"I am glad," Myra commented. "I am not a fan of how the church handled you."

"Me neither. I-"

Right. Pasus is gone. Turning onto the path in front of the servant dormitories gave us a view of the Little Mules and the large Little Swan. All lined up neatly. Except one was now missing. Pasus had left last night. I wonder what he would make of everything Myra just told me.

"Something wrong?"

"No, it's okay. Just was reminded that a friend left recently."

"So, you made a friend already. Good."

"A few actually. Some are looking out for me."

"I am glad. Maybe you aren't a hero like Maryn, but it looks like you land on your feet just like one."

"Well, I am glad to just chill in my Little Mule and leave the fighting to others."

"Don't worry. Maryn is capable. She just needs more time."

Right. That brings me to another question burning in the back of my mind.

"What exactly is Maryn supposed to do? Slay a dragon? Defeat an evil sorcerer? What danger warrants a hero summoned from another world."

"I actually don't know," Myra admits after a short pause. "Only the leaders of the church know. We normal priests and priestesses are left to speculate. My money is on the Western Empire. That's what my gut tells me. But what exactly is the threat? I don't know."

The last few steps to the Little Mules we spend in silence. Myra has given me a lot to think about and it looks like she has some thinking to do too. I may be wrong but I think I hear resentment to her own leaders in her voice. Is there a rift forming in the church? I am not sure if that is good or bad.

"Here we are," Myra announces as we finish our round of the courtyard. "I like the colors of your Little Mule."

Right. Blue with bronze accents. I quite like it, but from the inside, I don't get to see it. Another plus for my daily walk in the evening.

"Thanks. I chose this one myself. Listen, Myra. Again, I promise to keep a certain item a secret. If you come by in the morning, I'll hand you a dozen or more."

"I will. Thank you for the walk."

"It was a hard walk this time, but I still enjoyed it."

Instead of saying her goodbyes, Myra is reaching for my hands. Taking them into her own.

"Listen, Lillyn. I know the church treated you badly. Still, I hope we can be friends."

"I'd like that."

I even mean that. Myra has an honesty to her that I quite like. If she says she wants to be friends then I believe her. There is sincerity in that blue-green eyes of her.

After a short goodbye, it is time to hurry to the research bench. Now I am glad I haven't put something else on there first. Time for the apple. Actually, what does the item description say?

> Apple (McIntosh) <
> A type of fruit from #####. It is known for its tart flavor and tender white flesh. It was first cultivated by ###### ######## in #### and later was commercially produced. <
> 7 void-favors <

Strange. The description is spasming out. But the apple itself should be good. Onto the research bench. Now, I have to wait. Hmm. I still have the second research slot. What to put on it? Oh, I know. Please Besona, give me what I want. The papush ice cream plus the apple in the first slot equals apple ice cream, right?

I will find out. In just about two and a half bells. Time to get myself distracted.

....

....

Still a bell to go. Normally my research appears to be so quick, but today it feels so slow. Now, I have run out of things to do. Ate dinner. A small one. I left space for apples. And hopefully ice cream. I took a long bath. Even cleaned up my Little Mule for a bit. What else is there to do?

Maybe I should go through my collected items. Muse what combination results in new inventions. Let's see.

Right, I got a crate of congealed Zitoraxs slime. Of course, crated up I only get a generic description. Time to materialize it and look inside. I hope it isn't too icky.

Hmm. It doesn't look that bad. As if someone melted a thousand gummy bears and then let it cool down again in the crate. Time to scrape a chunk of and find out if it could be useful.

> Congealed Zitoraxs Slime <
> This product of drying Zitoraxs Slime was once coveted as a thought after ingredient in healing potions and as a sealing agent in the industry. However, its popularity diminished as better alternatives became available. <
> 13 void-favors <

That actually sounds promising. And the feel itself isn't so bad either. Kind of rubbery. I can press it and it springs to its original form. Hmm. Maybe I can use it for something that needs bouncing. I could try combining it with my shoes. Getting a gel-insole or something like that. Maybe I get sneakers out of it. Air-Lillyns have a certain ring to it, right?

The research is done. Finally. Apples. I have unlimited apples. And the ice cream worked too. Just let me summon one and take a bite.

Oh, gosh darn. That's the best apple I ever had. So juicy. I need more. Yes, that are tears running down my cheeks. Can you blame me? I thought I was stuck with weird Besonian food forever. But this-

It's special, alright. Just let me enjoy this. In fact, how about we call it a night. I've got apples to eat and you- I don't care.

Bye

---

---

Hey readers,

Cassy_Bee here. Once again ready to talk your ears off. Or eyes.

Anyway. As you may know, TTkFMMAT is LitRPG. Normally it is dominated by tables of numbers and stats. I am trying to go a light route and keep it to a minimum. Only to show it when it makes the most sense. I hope I do a good job.

If you read my other works that you might know that quite a few stories of mine feature LitRPG aspects. I must admit, it is intriguing to me.

As such, I am delighted to see other authors on BCTS dabble in it. I'd like to give a shoutout to two of them and maybe steer you to them. Just in case you haven't checked them out yet.

First, we have Morpheus with his current running serial To The Core. It has quite a few parts and is now ramping up to the final stretch. Well worth a read. He was also the person to start the custom keyword LitRPG on BCTS. Not included in the keyword, but fitting the genre is his serial "A Piece in the Game of Gods".

A newcomer to the genre is Amethyst with her serial "Apocalypse Dawn - First Light". A more traditional approach with a setting taking place in a virtual reality game, but with already hints showing that there are more forces at work there than one first might guess.

Of course, there might be more LitRPG stories out there on BCTS. If you know of them you might want to send a friendly private message to their authors and let them know of the keyword. Remember to be polite. Adding a keyword to every part of a serial is a lot of work.

Also, if you know of a LitRPG story I haven't named, I wouldn't mind a private message with a link either. Just saying.

Well, that's it for this time.
Stay tuned for part 11 of Lillyn's adventures in Besona.
After the more heavy part 10 you can look forward to more wacky gadgets researched and some light-hearted fun. Much to Lillyn's chagrin.

Until next time.
Hugs and kisses,
Cassy

Another morning.

A new chance for Besona to kick my ass.

Yesterday, a shitload happened. You know. This whole world is operating on a whole different set of rules. Physics be damn. I guess I only have myself to blame. All the numbers and statistics. And then there is magic and the special mechanics like void trading and soul-flakes and stuff. I mean I had no idea how they fit in with the physics I knew. Just shrugged it off. But now I know better. It doesn't. The reality here is just different. I guess I have to get used to it.

At least now and then Besona is tossing me a bone. Or in this case an apple. An honest to god apple. And now I have an unlimited supply. Thanks to Myra. The priestess that welcomed me to this world and now stumbled into my life again. I hope I can get her to give me more items from Earth. The stupid ban by the Church Of The Otherworldy be damned.

I think Besona is owing me some good fortune. The way I see it the apple was just a downpayment. Yesterday I put a copy of my shoes onto the research bench. Along with some congealed Zitoraxs slime. That stuff is so rubbery it might make a good insole or so. Look, the shoes aren't that bad. They're sturdy and I even got used to walking on a raised heel. But the cobblers of this world could learn a thing or two in terms of comfort from Earth. Maybe I am a bit spoiled. So what? At least, if my attempt succeeds, I will bring comfort to all the Besonians. Not just me.

I know my research bench was successful in some regard. It must be the connection I have with my Little Mule. Sometimes I just know things that happen in it. But I haven't checked yet. There is another experiment that takes precedence. Does hushberry soup mix well with chunks of apple? Time to find out.

Look at me slicing an apple. Yesterday I pretty much gobbled them down like a madman. Today, I have time. I wonder if I can make apple juice too. Should I try squeezing a bunch or put it onto the research bench and cross my fingers? That can wait. Time for the hushberry soup and-

That's strange. The apple doesn't have seeds. Not even the usual core. Yesterday I probably didn't notice because I was so eager to eat them that everything else faded to the back. Maybe Besona changed them. The world could have a built-in defense against invasive species? Sounds plausible, but I have no way to test it.

Now for the hushberry soup. Hmm. Nope. Not working out. Too sweet and the flavors clash. I guess I have to make do with normal apples for now or apple ice cream.

Alright. Breakfast is done. Time to look at my other research project. Cross my fingers and-

Well, that's not what I was expecting. Here. Take a look.

> Health-Strider Work-Boots <
> A pair of robust shoes of Antebra leather with modifications to sustain an enchantment and dyed black. <
> Enchanted: health-strider <
> Passive ability: builds up a charge with each step taken up to 300 points. <
> Active ability: Converts charge to health points for the wearer. It can only be activated once every 1.2 Bells.
> 480 void-favors <

Interesting enchantment, but do I really want to offer it in my shop. After all, I sell health potions. If people have equipment that heals them, why would they buy potions from me? Well, I guess it wouldn't matter that much. The enchantment is kind of weak. Three hundred health points are nothing. My potions give back five times the amount. That sounds like a lot, but it really isn't.

I have five thousand health points and I think mine are pretty low compared to others. You see, of these thrice-cursed stats, I have a constitution of five. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the health point amount is a thousand times that of the constitution stat. Now, keep in mind that the average for physical stats is ten. Probably higher for those who become adventurers. That's ten thousand or more health points. What are three hundred compared to them? Practically nothing.

There still could be a market. Use the boot's healing for scrapes and bruises. Too minor to warrant a potion, but too big to wait for natural healing. But will people pay nearly five hundred void-favors for them? I don't know. It depends on how fast the charge is building up. Maybe I should try wearing them for a while.

Hmm. Is it me or is the heel of the health strider boots higher? I think a little, yeah. Maybe it is now three centimeters. I hope this isn't a by-product of the enchantment. That would imply that higher enchantments would give them a high heel. Can you imagine adventurers going for stilettoes or stripper boots as gear for combat? Yeah, I don't think so either.

Well, let's shelf it for now. Time to open my shop.

....

....

"Hey, Dera."

"Hi, Lillyn. Got a new one for you today."

Ah, right. You don't know Dera, right? Well, you do but not her name. She is the female adventurer that got me to reveal my "secret selection" and then made it her mission to expand my repertoire of styles by finding new ones to research. Last rotation she handed me some lacy thing that possibly couldn't be practical. I commented on it and someone we wound up in a talk that lasted nearly a full bell.

Anyway. It looks like she found another brassiere design that intrigues her enough to hand it over to me. Where does she even get them? We are in the middle of nowhere. That only leaves other adventurers and-

"Lillyn?"

"Sorry, was in thought for a moment."

"As you do," Dera remarks with a chuckle.

"It is actually quite good that you show up. I have a new product I want you to test."

I mean I need a guinea pig to test out the health strider boots, right?

"What is it? Panties that make your booty grow?"

Of course, she chuckles when I give a big sigh. Why is everyone always teasing me? Aside from Pasus and Myra. Well, the former is probably too shy and the latter only knows me for a short while.

"No. I thought I go with something practical for once."

"A big booty can be very practical."

I did run into that one, right?

"Boots that can occasionally heal you. But I don't know how fast they charge up. I need someone to test them for a few days. See how they work out."

"I'm game. Hand them over."

A quick trade later and Dera has the boots. Of course, she immediately switches out her boots for mine.

"I don't know about the enchantment," Dera started. "But the design is more for civilian use. That could be a problem."

"It's the only pair I've got."

"Use mine as a base," Dera offers while holding out her hand to trade her own pair of boots. "I won't be going back into the mansion today. Do you think you can enchant them before tomorrow?"

"Probably. Maybe even by lunch."

"See you then."

Well, that is one way to get new garments. Onto the research bench the boots go. Alongside with the slime again.

Now, time to get back to work. The time spend chatting with Dera has my customers in the waiting line grow restless.

....

....

Now there is a sight to behold. My next customer apparently is all about being big or large. On her back, she is carrying a sword that's got to be impractical. It is nearly as long as her and the blade is thicker than my torso. And speaking of the chest. Hers is huge. In fact, a very familiar size.

"Welcome, Marie," I offer with a warm smile. "What can I get you?"

Before I can react, Marie twirls on the spot, and the next thing I know she holds her oversized sword to my throat. No, kidding. I can feel the cold edge on my skin. Shit! What did I say to tick her off?

"How do you know that name?" Marie growls.

Oh, damn it. Slip of the tongue. Marie is the summoned hero from Earth. The very one I kind of stole my current body from. Like me, she goes by a new name. Apparently, to keep her safe. How do I get out of it?

I think I got an idea.

"Didn't the church tell you about me-" And now for the cherry on top. "Sister."

"Sister?" The confusion on Marie's face is priceless. She even withdraws her sword a little. "I don't have a sister."

"Really? Look at us. Same height. We share a nice tan. Have brown eyes and hair. Our facial features are much alike. And most obvious of all, our breasts are equally enormous. Everyone looking at us will think we are siblings."

"Mine are larger."

What? That's her takeaway? And no they're not. Whatever. Not that I care about that fact.

"You know, if you put your sword away, I could explain properly."

Eying me with doubt, it takes Marie several seconds to step back and eventually reholster her sword. Actually, how is that thing holding on? It must weigh a ton.

But now that Marie backed down, my tunnel vision is receding. Damn, the situation outside of my Little Mule is equally poised to explode. A few of my regular customers have drawn their weapons and look eager to spring into action. If it wasn't for a few hardened warriors that I guess are Marie's bodyguards.

"Now." I turn back to Marie. "Give a big laugh and then hug me. Or else we have a blood bath on our hands."

A few more seconds pass. Will she go for it? Yes. Okay, that laugh was a bit too fake. Time for the hug. Oh, damn. That was an awkward suggestion. Less hug and more smashing our bosoms against each other. Still, I can work with that.

"Maryn! Good to see you sister! Despite your usual antics." I hope I spoke loud enough so everyone could hear. Just to be sure I better address my customers. "It's fine. Put away your weapons. My sister just has a terrible sense of humor."

Yes. It took a few seconds, but everyone is putting away their weapons. Even Marie's bodyguards.

"Now cut the act," Marie is growling at me. "What is going on?"

"What's going on is that the Church Of The Otherworldy can't admit to their mistakes. They really start to get on my nerves."

"Explain."

Geez. Someone is tense. Lighten up, Marie. Can't we have a civil chat? Oh, no. Her hand is twitching for her sword again.

"I am from Earth too."

"They told me I am the only one they summoned."

Ah, she is relaxing slightly. Not much.

"They did. Didn't they? Technically true. They told you about that white truck, right? The one that I presume killed you?"

"Truck-kun," Marie confirms. "Yes, they told me a lot about it. To be honest, I am still not sure if that is an elaborate joke."

"It is not. You see, the very same truck killed me too. But by accident. That's how I arrived in Besona. Not a half bell before you. And in the body originally meant for you. I am not a summoned hero like you. Nope. I am a dirty little secret the church wants to sweep under the rug."

"They never did tell me about you. But how do I know you are really from Earth?"

"You want to test my knowledge? Please go with something easy like the items of McDonald's dollar menu or so."

"I never mentioned- Alright. Say I believe you. Why are you here? It is a big coincidence that I run into you."

Ha! Coincidence. That's rich. Nothing in this world makes sense. It could be a random event or even fate. Who knows? Besona isn't really governed by stats. No matter what the people think is true. It is ideas. Shaped into reality.

You know what? Let's get not into it now. Apparently, I haven't stomached that reveal by Myra yet. Right. Myra. There is a name I can throw around.

"I've been here, at Maynard Mansion, for over a rotation. The way I see it it is strange that you show up here. Not the other way around. But if you want my story confirmed, then ask Myra. She was the priestess who found me when I arrived here. She also pointed me in the direction of the void-trader guild. The very reason I am now here."

"As strange as it sounds I believe you," Marie admits while pinching the bridge of her nose. "There is a lot the church isn't telling me. They dodge a lot of my questions."

"Looks like we have more than a few things in common." Offering my hand, I continue on. "I am Lillyn by the way. At least, I am here on Besona."

"Maryn," Marie replies as she shakes my hand. "So, sisters, huh? I never had one before."

"Well, I think that is the best way to describe ourselves. I mean we both are from Earth and look very similar. Might as well."

"Well, sister, I usually take a walk in the evening. If you want we can 'catch up'."

"I can't. We plan a raid on the main manor in a bit and-" For a moment, Maryn seems lost in thought. "Are you staying a while?"

"For at least two more rotations."

"I guess it I need a rain check then," Maryn concludes with a sigh.

"Done. Now, what potions can I paddle to my 'sister'?"

So, that's the savior the church summoned, huh? A little tense. Well, I would be too, to be honest. At least she looks the part. Despite nearly having an identical body, she radiates strength and agility. Not that I mind much. She can have all the fun saving the world. I have enough to do with being a void trader. It might not be as glamorous, but a lot safer.

....

....

This meat is just plain confusing. I mean I knew what to expect. Having eaten it before. Still. It was a weird mix of pineapple and mango. All with the texture and feel of beef.

"Hey, Lillyn. Is this a bad time?"

Looking up from my skewer I see Dera walking up my ramp. It was about time. My lunch break is nearly over.

"Nearly finished. And I got the boots ready."

Indeed, my research had finished over a bell ago. Thankfully, with the intended result. Getting the same enchantment as last time. However, it is stronger. I am starting to think the strength of enchantments is based on material type and the amount of it. Of course, the price was raised to match it.

> Adventurer Boots of the Health-Strider <
> This pair of knee-high boots are made of Antebra leather and reinforced with Hounshack leather padding to offer protection. "
> Enchanted: health-strider <
> Passive ability: builds up a charge with each step taken up to 840 points. <
> Active ability: Converts charge to health points for the wearer. It can only be activated once every 1.1 Bells.
> 1544 void-favors <

"It can heal eight hundred and forty health points?" Dera asks after I traded her the boots. "That's not bad. For how much do you want to sell it?"

"About one thousand and seven hundred."

"That's a lot," Dera stated the obvious. "You have to wear them for a long time to offset the cost. Potions are a lot cheaper."

"Luckily, you get to test them out for free. Well, not exactly. I need to find out how practical they are. It says the charge is built up with each step, but not how much. I sat around in my Little Mule all day and barely gathered any amount on my pair."

"So, run around and see how long it takes to fill them up. Shouldn't be too hard. Though it might take me a few days to test them. We are going for a servant dormitory run tomorrow."

Right. Dormitory. Those servant automata have given me a lot of headaches trying to research them. Maybe because I only got limbs and heads from adventurers.

"Well, while you are in there- You up for a little bounty?"

"Depends. What did you have in mind?"

"I need torsos of those servant maid automata. Spread the word if you will. The first fifty torsos of those dolls I pay double the void-favors. Maybe even a bonus if they are mostly intact."

"Okay." Dera is eyeing me as if I have sprouted a second head. "What for?"

"Mannequins. Maybe I can repurpose them to show off my wares. You know, lately, my research was dominated by garments."

"I'll try. It won't be easy. The chest is what makes them move. To kill them you have to damage it to some extent."

"Please try," I urge her. "And tell me how the boots are working out."

"Right. I better equip them now. Gotta build up a charge, right?"

A moment later, Dera is towering over me. Not by much. A look down reveals the culprit. Almost all work or adventurer boots have a heel of one to two centimeters. It took me a while to get used to mine. Now, my newly researched pair has a grown heel of maybe three centimeters. Which was nothing compared to Dera's new pair. I swear hers must be between four and five now.

"Is that normal?" Dera asks.

"Well, I guess. My work boots grew too, but not so much. Might be related to the enchantment strength. Is that a problem?"

With a chuckle, Dera is waving me off.

"My dexterity is high enough. And to be honest, I kind of like it. It makes me push out my chest a little more."

Dera is pushing out her bosom for the world to see. Not that there is a lot to see. She is rather flat-chested. Not as much as she used to be. Thanks to my specialty brassieres.

Maybe it's her antics that draw in a crowd. No. Wait. They are forming a line. Right. I am overdrawing my usual lunch break time. Time to get back to work.

"Well, Dera. You go have fun. I have customers waiting."

"Alright. See you in a few days."

With a wave, Dera is strutting off my ramp. Is it just me or is she swaying her butt more? Anyway. Time to make a profit.

After I finish my skewer of pineapple-mango meat. Great. It's cold now. Well, it can't be helped. Down the hatch with it. Talk to you later.

....

....

Finally. It is evening. Time to get out and get some fresh air. Maybe Myra will join me again. I still have some questions. Hopefully, the answers won't be as world-shattering as last time. But first, let's check on my research.

Hmm. Not done yet. A few bells ago I had a genius idea. The health strider boots build up charge with each step, right? Or is it motion in general? Sitting around all day, my feet don't move much. But there is something else that moves with every shift I do. If I lean forward or turn around. Yes, it is time for my twins to get to work. My massive bosom is what feels like constantly in motion. A constant annoyance. But maybe now I have a way to get at least something positive out of it. Well, the research should be done when I return from my walk.

Hmm.

No Myra waiting.

Disappointing.

Guess I walk alone today.

"Miss Lillyn?"

Barely a few steps out and I get stopped by someone. A woman dressed in all black. A long leather trench coat. How clique. I don't think she is a customer. This doesn't bode well. Maybe I can run back to my Little Mule and-

Shit!

There is a guy leaning against my ship. Dressed in black too.

I've got to play for time and come up with an exit strategy. Not many adventurers around. They are all turning in for the night. Gotta keep the woman busy.

"That's me," I say while activating my personal shield. Praise to Pasus for gifting me the Bracelet Of Shielding.

"That shield won't do you much good. I can slice through it like paper," the woman casually remarked while shifting part of her black coat to the side. Revealing a wicked-looking dagger. "There is someone who'd like to talk to you. Don't do anything stupid and we won't have to resort to creating a scene."

Shit!

Shit. Shit. Shit!

How fast is she? How strong are both of them? I don't think I stand a chance with my below-average stats. I am a trader. I am not cut out for this cloak and dagger stuff.

"Lead the way I guess."

Look. I am not admitting defeat. But for now, I need to look like it. Yes, I could scream. But I doubt anyone would arrive in time before I spill my blood and guts on the path.

This was careless. Of course, with Marie's arrival here, I guess her enemies had arrived too. They must have seen me with her and now try to get to the heroine through me. If I can't escape torture is probably on the table and-

"In here," the woman ordered.

Wait. That's the-

"This is the church's Little Swan."

"We would prefer if you keep quiet and don't reveal this to the camp. Now, get in."

Stupid church. What is this? Do they want to silence me? Isn't it enough that they fucked me over and threw me out like trash. Now they come for my life? If I go in there then-

"Move," a male voice growled from behind me.

The guy behind me tried to give me a shove. The shield caught it, but the momentum carried through. Damn, I am in. Is this how my story ends? If I stop narrating suddenly then I guess that's a yes.

"Up the stairs," the woman says while pointing in the right direction.

Well, at least I die in a nice spot. Damn, the Little Swans are pure luxury. It is still cramped. Despite the enormous overall size. This is how I imagine luxury yachts are built back on Earth. I love my Little Mule, but this has me jealous. So much chrome and polished wood. Nicely decorated too.

Arriving up top I can see an open seating area not far. Two big couches and a coffee table. I guess that's where I've got to go as one couch is occupied. I know her. That bitch. The head-priestess of the church. I've only seen her for a moment before but her face I remember everywhere. It is one of those uptight ones. Aristocratic? You know the type. The queen bee at school. Just aged a few years and now occupies a position of authority. Right. She reminds me of Miss Haverford. My old vice-principal. Damn, I hated her too.

"Miss Lillyn. Have a seat."

What choice do I have? Might as well. Strange. I know this ship belongs to the church, but no one is dressed like them. Not even the leader of the church.

Time to get down to the nitty-gritty.

"What is this about?"

Oh, come on. Spit it out. That staring me down with cold eyes is so overdone. And clique.

"One of my associates overheard you claiming to be from Earth. And you dared to refer to one of my prodigies as your sister. A claim most unwelcome."

Wait. Is that ass-hat not even remembering me? Don't tell me she has no idea who I am. That audacity. Oh, I so hate this stupid Church Of The Otherworldy. They all can suck ass and die.

Well, all except Myra. But you get my sentiment, right? How often do they want to screw me over? It's starting to piss me off.

"You don't even know who I am, right? Listen. I am from Earth. The little mistake you try to forget that arrived before Marie. And me saying she is my sister is the best damn thing that could happen to you."

"I see. You are her."

Well, duh. Got anything worthwhile to say. Your starring might work on others. Not me. I just stare right back. That always works. it always ticked my former vice-principal right off too.

"I don't think I can follow your logic," she finally admits.

I give out an annoyed sigh. Like a theatrical masterpiece of an overdone acting annoyed sigh.

"Here are the facts. You can summon a hero only every few years. You also have enemies. Which in turn are after Marie. They know she is summoned and arrived alone. But 'Maryn' can't be the summoned hero, right? Not if she has a sister that so much looks like her. I can be Marie's biggest alibi and cement her cover. Provided you let me."

"True."

One word. That's all I got. Now she is starring again. Not the one with disdain from before. This one is cold. Calculating. How I hate people like her. Always looking down on people.

"You are a void-trader."

"A very astute observation."

"Void-traders always want something in return."

Right. I haven't thought this far. Thank you for revealing your hand. Her slip up reveals that I have more than a foot in the door. It is time to negotiate.

"I think we can come to an agreement," I offer generously. That's just the way I roll, right. "And I think what I want could be to your advantage too."

"Access to otherworldy items. Probably from Earth."

There she goes again. Pointing out the obvious.

"Think about it. Every item you supply I can research and multiply. Besona is strange. At least to people from Earth. It is so different. There might be a time when it all gets too much for Marie. The hero you so desperately need. A steady supply of comfort items could alleviate homesickness."

"The church's mission is not only to summon heroes as many think. It is to contain unwanted influences too. Not every item is suitable for distribution. Some are downright dangerous in the hands of Besonians."

"Such as?"

Instead of answering, the priestess is leaning forward. Grabbing something below the coffee table. A black lacquered wooden box. Placing it on the table and opening the lit. Of course, in a way that I can't see the contents. I wonder what she is pulling out of-

Holy shit! That's a gun. By the looks of it automatic and quite a caliber. It clearly was made on earth. Save for the detailing. Wait. That looks familiar. Silver print that looks like a circuit board. Is that gun enchanted?

"Once introduced certain items could unbalance Besona. And, once available, are hard to contain. "

Yeah. No shit. It's like bringing a knife to a gunfight. Or a sword. Mace. A staff. You get the idea. Guns are bad as it gets. And enchanted ones? How powerful are they? Could they rival a full-fledged mage in strength? Somehow, I don't wanna find out.

"Put that thing away. Geez. I said comfort items. How does a gun count into that? I thought you were worried about invasive species or something like that. Plants that spread out of control or such. Not weapons."

"The church is very aware of the advancements Earth has made in the last decades. This-" She is holding up the gun for emphasis. Not that it is necessary. "Is worrisome. But not as bad as some other options."

"I get it, alright? Let's make a deal. I don't request items. Whatever you deem safe I get. Nothing dangerous. Say one or two items every few rotations. I even do you one better. I won't sell anything to the public that can clearly be traced back to Earth. But, if I research a sufficiently distinct deviation I can do as I please."

"I think the church can live with that."

Great. We have a deal. Which, of course, means that I get to stay alive. And I might get my hands on more things from good old Earth. It is a win-win for me.

Should we shake on it? No. I rather not touch that harpy. Time to stand up. Smooth out my skirt. And make a dignified tactical retreat.

"Then we are in agreement. I'll await the first delivery shortly."

Without waiting for a reply, I turn around. No one is stopping me. A few seconds later I am out. Clean fresh air is greeting me. For a moment, I thought I'd never feel the evening chill on my skin ever again.

Still, I am not in the mood anymore for an evening walk. Back towards my Little Mule. Not too fast, Lillyn. They're probably still watching. Don't let them see how much they unnerved you. Gosh, I am practically swimming in my own sweat. I need a shower. Gotta keep my hands balled up. Else they might see how jittery they are.

Home sweet home. Finally out of sight. Time to break down and- No. I won't cry. That's probably what they want. Having me all scared up. Maybe even going back on the deal we just struck. I've got to stay strong. Time for a shower. A long hot one.

....

....

That feels better.

I am all clean and I just noticed my research is done. Let's look if I got the Brassiere Of Health-

Uhm. Wobbliness? Health-jiggling.

Come on, Besona. For once give me something good.

I so earned it today.

And we have-

> Cross-Strap Bra Of Amplified Movement<
> The Staps of this brassiere join in the back between the shoulder blades and then go downward. Giving the garment dearly needed support for very high movements. The material is Hounshack leather.<
> Enchantment: Movement Amplification <
> 379 void-favors <

That sounds ominous. No description of what the enchantment does. Only one way to find out what it does. I have to wear it.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Still, now is a good time. Aside from the towel wrapped around me, I am naked. And if the enchantment is lingering around I can simply go to sleep and miss most of the effect.

Here we go.

Hmm. Nothing feels different.

Maybe if I do a jump.

Damn. Why are my twins jiggling so much?

And why aren't they stopping?

It's like they are made of Jelly-O.

Stop it.

This is some straight anime physics bullshit.

Gotta avoid movement.

It only gets worse.

Gotta ditch the bra. This is horrible.

Damn. The enchantment is still working.

Stupid Besona. For once I take you seriously and then what? You throw never stopping bouncing breasts in my face. Literally! I am so done for today. I am going to bed.

Oh, no. Even lying down they won't stop.

This will be a long evening.

Go ahead, my imaginary audience. Get some sleep. At least you can get some. Stupid Besona. I so hate you.

---

Hey readers,

Cassy_Bee here.

Yes, a new part of TTkFMMAT is out. I know it took a while this time for the update. I was plagued by headaches all of last week. I could have powered through and written anyway, but I doubt the quality would be very good.

I mean, it isn't the best already. But I think it still could get worse. I am trying to avoid it. Next time, hopefully, a big decision will be upon you guys. Lillyn (and you) meet all her possible love candidates. That means next time we will have a big vote. Who will Lillyn fall in love with? Will she pursue someone or will someone have to sweep her off her feet?

Stay tuned for more TTkFMMAT.
Hopefully, the next part will be on time.

Until then,
stay safe and sound.

Cassy

Good morning my imaginary audience. Breakfast is running long today. Nibbling an apple, I can't help but contemplate the events of yesterday. And I don't mean the latest brassiere enchantment Besona threw in my face to annoy me. Let's not speak about that one ever again.

Yesterday I met Maryn. Formerly Marie. She used to be from Earth just like me. Because of a slip of tongue, I am now in the awkward position to play the role of her sister. To cement her cover story. I even struck a deal with this stupid Church Of The Otherworldly. But here is the problem. If I am Maryn's alibi that she isn't from Earth, then maybe I shouldn't shout out that I am. And I did so on a few occasions. Thankfully the list of people who know isn't long. Maybe I can talk to them to keep their mouth shut.

Time to finish my apple and figure out how projections work. Pasus told me my Little Mule actually could project me elsewhere. A little detail Essie and Iren forgot to mention.

Hmm, you know what? Apples without a core and seeds do have one advantage. You can pretty much eat them whole without trouble. That is definitely a plus.

Alright. Time to figure out the projection system. I think I access it over the main console. Or panel? Main computer? Tapping it, a holographic display appears. So many menus. Look, I know it is there for a while. I just haven't played around with it. This thing keeps my Little Mule running. Or rather flying. I thought it would be wise to not poke around in the settings without knowing a damn thing about them.

There is no projection sub-system. Wait. Communications, duh. A pretty logical name for it. The list of contacts is nearly empty. There is only one entry.

> Hub #5 (Dimole) <

I hope this is the right one. Else I am in for a scavenger hunt for the correct address. Alright. Here we go. Time to find out how it is to be a projection.

A split second later, I find myself in a big room with a Marmor floor and high polished wooden walls. And look at that. My arm is transparent. I am a ghost. BoooOOooo!

"Welcome to the Dimole trade-hub. What can I do for you?"

Shit. I'm not alone. Right. I mean, it would have been inconvenient to arrive somewhere and no one would be there. Turning around, I now see a clean-shaven and neatly dressed guy behind an enormous reception desk. That thing is massive. Like those old-timey wooden desks, they used in the Renaissance period.

"My name is Lillyn. Is this the trade-hub run by Iren?"

"That is correct."

"I'd like to speak to Iren and the apprentice Essie."

"I am afraid Mistress Iren is rather busy."

"Just tell her I want to speak to her and that it is kind of urgent. And don't forget to invite Essie."

"One moment."

How many hops do I have to jump through to-

No, wait. I have to remember that I came here unannounced. And as far as I know, Iren is rather busy.

Hmm, the guy is speaking to something that looks strikingly similar to a telephone. Well, I guess the design is rather practical. Not to mention that Besona has the technology. It is easy to forget parking your flying ship on the frontier and being surrounded by adventurers. Who knows what they got that is even ahead of Earth technology.

"Mistress Iren will be with you shortly," the guy suddenly announced. "I'll be transferring you to the conference room one."

"Don't forget to get-"

And I am in another room. Just a short blur and here I am. How rude. Hopefully, he remembers to invite Essie. I need to speak to her too.

This room is furnished with a large table and about a dozen chairs. Maybe I can sit in one? Nope. I fall right through. The table is immaterial too. I know what you gotta say. But, Lillyn, you are a projection. You can't interact with objects. Well, Iren did. Don't ask me how, but she sat on things while being a projection in my Little Mule. There's got to be a way.

"Lillyn! Is there a problem?"

Turning around, I see Iren enter the room. Wow, what a sight. Despite the early hour, she is already styled and dressed. And not just casually. She wears some kind of dress that starts harmlessly with white fabric cupping her bosom and shoulders. But then transitions to large bronze-colored scales that hug her waist and hips. Below, some layered gauzy red fabric is billowing out like a skirt. Her dreadlocks, with beads the colors of her dress, fall loosely down her back. She could be a model on Earth. An eccentric one, but still very popular.

"It better be an emergency," Essie complained as she walked into the room right behind Iren.

Unlike the Mistress of the trader-hub, Essie is barely dressed. It looks like she is still in a nightgown and only threw on a cardigan over it. Her vibrant red hair is a mess. Unlike usual when she styles them in elaborate braids. To be honest, she kind of looks cute like that. But, psst. Don't tell her that.

"It is urgent. But I wouldn't call it an emergency."

"Great," Essie pushes out while throwing her hands in the air. "The one day I have afternoon shift and can sleep in. Did you have to call right at the crack of dawn?"

"Essie," Iren said to cut the apprentice's rambling off. "I bet she has a good reason to do so."

"I know," Essie said aloud. But her eyes send a different message. That my reason better is good. Or else-

"I had a run-in with the Church Of The Otherworldly yesterday and-"

I was cut off by a loud groan coming from Iren and, for a moment, she looked just as tired as Essie.

"I hope you didn't antagonize them. Our guilds aren't on the best terms already."

"Well, it was a bit scary," I admit out loud. "But we came to an agreement."

"Alright," Iren said with a nod. "Everybody sit. Then you can explain."

Essie plopped down on a chair like a sack of potatoes. Meanwhile, Iren took the time to pull a chair back and graciously sit down. Probably to not step on her skirt or such. And me?

"How do I sit? I mean as a projection?"

Essie gave a shrug, so I look towards Iren.

"Well, as a projection, your mind can do a few things. Sitting is one of the simpler concepts. Imagine a surface where you want it to be. If you define it clearly enough, the system should create one that is simulated to interact with you."

Alright. Let's give it a try. Imagine a surface on a nearby chair and-

Damn. Landed on the floor again. Much to the amusement of Essie. Yes, I heard her stifled giggle.

"It takes a while to get the hang of it," Iren added dryly.

"Guess I stand for now."

"So, what happened that is so much more important than my beauty sleep?" Essie asked.

"Three days ago, a Little Swan arrived at Maynard Mansion," I started my tale. "Without markings, but I soon found out it belongs to the church. Myra, the priestess I asked you to find Essie, is actually on that ship. Along with Maryn. The hero they summoned from Earth."

"I know you told us about the hero summon," Iren mused out loud. "But not her name. Why is that important?"

"Because I messed up and revealed myself as from Earth too. And, to avoid a conflict, I proclaimed myself her sister."

"I guess the church didn't like that," Essie remarked. Now waking up a little and looking more alert.

"Yeah. Send some goons so we have a little chat. I am fine. We came to an agreement. One even beneficial to me. But I need your help with that."

"What are the terms and how do we factor into it?" Iren asked while leaning forward. Her puffy dress crinkling beneath her.

"I play her sister. As an alibi. To vouch for Maryn not being from Earth. In return, I get items from Earth now and then. I can't sell them as is, but I can use them as a foundation for research. Of course, that alibi for Maryn hinges on one important detail. That everyone thinks I am from Besona too. So, I need you to keep that detail hidden."

"You woke me for that?" Essie pushed out with a huff of annoyance. "I'm already doing that. Iren thought it is best to keep tight lit on the fact where you are from."

"I thought it is best to contain the information until you are ready for it to be known," Iren took over. "With your aptitude, people might try to take advantage of you. For now, I have ordered everyone at the hub who knows of you to remain quiet."

Of course, it goes without speaking that Iren is one of those people. But at least her motivation she made known. I was to revive the trader profession by researching new and exciting products. I don't mind. That's what I am doing anyway and Iren knows that. Instead of hovering above me, she gave me plenty of space and support. To find my own legs to stand on as a void-trader. It might be self-serving, but she was open about it and it is for a good reason.

Essie meanwhile has a different motivation to help me. Through Iren, I know that Essie would love to have her own private harem filled with sexy girls. And I was her chosen centerpiece. The first conquest she hoped to land. Not that she was very successful in that regard. In fact, sprawled on her chair half asleep, probably wasn't a good advertisement for her cause. So far, she hadn't appeared sincere in her pursuit. Then again, maybe that is for the best. I don't know how I would react to that if she got all serious.

"That's good," I say aloud instead of the many thoughts that run through my head. "Better than I hoped for."

"I'll be visiting you in person in a few days," Iren announced. "Then, we can talk about the details and implications of your deal with the church."

Right. What did I say about her not hovering and giving me space?

"You don't need to check in on me. As long as I stick to the deal I am fine."

"It's not that," Iren waved my complaint off. "I actually need to do some business. My mistake was to tell my girlfriends about your newest product. Now they all want one."

Ah, yes. Can't forget that Iren actually has a harem. One so successful that she was pressured into a fixed position at the hub to curb her ambition of growing it. Apparently, it didn't just come with benefits. I wonder if Essie would buy me presents too if she manages to get me in her harem. Wait. Bad thought, Lillyn. Do not go into a relationship for monetary gain. I think being a void-trader starts going to my head.

Speaking of- Is it just me or is Essie now wide awake? Of course, now we are talking about a topic she is very interested in. I can't forget that Iren is Essie's big Idol. In fact, I think she actually came to this trading hub to specifically learn from Iren.

"It actually isn't my newest product anymore. But I can prepare a few copies in advance."

What did I say? Iren just gave a short heartfelt laugh. Now shaking her head and actually wiping away a tear of laughter.

"Oh, you don't know my girlfriends. Every model. Every color. For each of them. Nothing less will do. I hate to say it, but you'll be making a big profit off of me."

Well, I can get behind profit. Who knew my biggest single sell would be to my mentor? Then again, I could have predicted it if I had thought about it even a little. My enchant-up bras could become a big hit with those who could afford them.

"I'll be looking forward to it then," I say with a big grin and rub my hands. What? I think I am contractually obliged to do so as a void-trader.

"Alright," Essie piped up and pushed out of her chair. "I guess that's it. Now I can go back to bed. Next time, Lillyn, if you get me out of bed this early, you better dress accordingly."

Did Essie just flirt with me? Too late to ask what she meant. Essie is already out of the door. Iren is only giving me a shrug, but I saw that twinkle in her eyes. It looks like I am in trouble.

"See you in a few days," Iren said while standing up too.

"Until then."

With a single thought to my Little Mule, I end the projection. At once, I find myself back on my ship. Lying on my floor and drooling on the carpet. My head hurts. Did I bump it? Clearly, if a projection is initiated, my body goes limp. Better make sure to sit down first before my next projection. Which actually is about right now. As soon as I figure out how to add Pasus's Little Mule to my communication system.

Alright. Here we go.

Hmm. Nothing happens.

Maybe it didn't work?

Or-

Suddenly I am in another Little Mule. I see pastel blue walls and furniture in other shades of the color. Quite the contrast to the black hull outside. Of course, sitting in the dining nook is the man I wanted to see. Just enjoying his breakfast.

"Lillyn," Pasus said while standing up. "I didn't expect you to call so early."

"There is something important I need to talk to you about."

"Alright," Pasus said while casually scratching his beard.

Hold on. Beard? Oh my. He has some stubble. Not quite a three-day beard yet. It looks like he hasn't shaved since he left Maynard Mansion. It doesn't look bad. Just unfamiliar. Of course, it is nice to see Pasus in casual clothes too. For work, he wears a heavy black robe. It's a part of the image his merchant family is portraying. Now, a white tunic and brown leather pants give a whole different feel. Quite roguish.

"How many people have you told about me? That I am from Earth."

"None," Pasus replied immediately. But added to it after a moment. "Well, I told my mother about you. I swear she can sense if something new is going on in my life. Digging until I reveal what. But I haven't told her about you being from Earth yet. I only mentioned your high aptitude for void-magic."

"I see. That's good. To be honest, I need a favor from you. More than one, actually."

"I am all ears."

"If anyone asks, don't tell them I'm from Earth. Just say that I told you I am from some backwater town or such."

"Which is technically true," Pasus remarks. "That's what you told me first. I don't see a problem with that."

"Now for the bigger favor. Mention that I have a sister called Maryn."

"But you don't. Since you are from Earth."

"She is too. From Earth, that is. Maryn arrived a half bell after me on Besona. Unlike me, her arrival wasn't an accident. In fact, she is rather important. That's why she has enemies. Me playing her sister provides an alibi for both of us."

"I can do that," Pasus promises to me. "Though I doubt someone will ask. This world is big and what is noteworthy in one part might be nothing more than gossip in others."

Yeah. Just like the fact that the Western Empire is spreading. Still far away, but it got Pasus' family freaked out enough to run with their tail between their legs to the far reaches of Besona. Dragging Pasus along.

"You are probably right. Still, it can't hurt."

"It's been a few days since I left. I am curious. Did my gift help your research?"

Right. Pasus was the one who gave me the Bracelet Of Shielding. Leading to a string of new products. Though most of them I don't sell yet.

"In a way," I admit aloud. "I tried boosting the bracelet with a mana potion, but instead of a better bracelet, I got Potions Of Shielding."

"I never heard of Potions Of Shielding. Do they have the same effect? Amazing."

"Same effect, but even stronger. That's why I, going forward, used it for my research. But I couldn't get the enchantment onto my clothes. Instead, I got this tunic and skirt. Both with the enchantment of sustaining. Reducing the decay of an active shield."

"They look good on you." Pasus looks for the moment to the side. Lost in thought. Tapping his fingers against his lip. "It could be because you used the potion instead of the bracelet. They might have the same effect, but their application is different. This could influence the research. I also remember talking to traditional manufacturers. They mentioned that the item dictates what enchantments are possible. The volume and the material are playing a big role."

Is it that easy? Using the bracelet instead of the potion? Why didn't I think of it? Now, I feel stupid. Come to think of it, Pasus might be onto something.

"That explains why the health-strider enchantment grew in strength when I used taller boots."

"Health strider?"

"Right. My latest research. Boots that build up a charge, which can be converted to health points. I am not sure how practical they are yet."

"Still. That's amazing. I knew you would create new things. Never seen before."

Just like Iren. Such confidence that I will revolutionize the void-trader business. Then again, I am on my way to get there. If Besona would, just for a moment, stop throwing monkey wrenches.

"I think I better go now. You have been giving me a few good pointers I want to try out."

"I miss our walks in the evening," Pasus suddenly says while stepping forward. If I wasn't a projection, I think he'd have taken my hand. "My evenings now appear so boring now."

"I do too."

What? He is good company. And I can't help but feel that my research would run smoother if we had this exchange sooner.

"Lillyn. Before you go."

Uh oh. He isn't confessing his love for me, right? I mean, I know he is into me a little. But that's just my exaggerated body. I get plenty of stares. Pasus is young and male. Seeing a woman like me is bound to cause a reaction. Believe me, I know. Not so long ago, I was a man too.

"About enchantments," Pasus continued. "You know you can stack them, right?"

"What?"

This is not what I expected. But color me intrigued nonetheless.

"It is hard to do for a void-trader," Pasus explains. "Well, a normal one at least. Just know that the material determines the strength and number of possible enchantments. But enchantments themselves are independent and can use the full capacity."

"I don't get it," I admit aloud. "What are you trying to say?"

A little lost, Pasus eyes roam the living space of his Little Mule. Then I see an idea blossoming in his eyes. With a short gesture, he summons an item. A spellbook.

"This is one of our most expensive products. The materials allow for not only strong enchantments on the book, but also to be placed quite a number of them. But the enchantments don't share the capacity for strength the book provides. Each one is independent and can be strengthened individually to the maximum amount."

"I think I understand. If I would add a new enchantment to the Bracelet Of Shielding it wouldn't diminish the enchantment on it. Rather it would be complimentary."

"Exactly!"

Well, that's the Pasus I know. Excited like a little puppy. Back to being adorable. I think he could grow a full beard and still look like a young boy when he gets excited like that.

"Now I got even more to experiment. Thanks, Pasus."

"You are welcome. And don't be a stranger. Call if you need help with something. Or you know. Just to talk."

"I will."

Giving him a small wave, I terminate the projection. Just to "wake up" on the floor again. I sat down before calling Pasus, but apparently, my body fell over. Once again, I find myself drooling on the floor. I wonder if others have the same problem using projections.

Well, I think I tied up all loose ends nicely. I am also glad that those few friends I have I can count on. Even if they are grumbling about it or making jokes.

Well, time for work.

And maybe a research or two.

....

....

Oh damn. This is heavy. Right. You have no idea what I am talking about. It is evening and I spent the whole day researching stuff. Well, I did trade too, but that was boring.

Remember how Pasus said I can stack enchantments? Well, I had to try it. First, I wanted to put the Bracelet Of Shielding and my normal tunic onto the research bench. But why bother? If Pasus was right then it should be okay to put the bracelet together with my Simple Tunic Of Sustaining. And it worked. Pasus was right.

I not only got the "Sustained Tunic Of Shielding" but also an upgrade to the bracelet. It has the sustaining enchantment too. The description for the tunic changed a lot too, but I didn't know until I tried it on now. Along with the "Sustained Skirt Of Shielding".

Both garments were a lot stronger now that their source item. But it was bought with weight. Or rather material. Looking in the mirror, I can hardly see the original tunic and skirt anymore. Most of the garments are hidden under a layer of chunky metal applications that share the same design as the bracelet. Grey metal that has a delicate pattern of silver lines. Connecting a larger blue gem and four smaller red ones. Below the applications, I can make out more silvery lines. Probably in a circuit-like pattern again, but I am not sure. My mirror image looks so strange. Gone is the void-trader. The tunic and skirt look like scale armor. And they weigh a ton. I can barely walk in this.

Wait.

Someone is at the door to my Little Mule. Who could it be? Myra? I hope so. The alternatives sound less than pleasing. Time to make my way downstairs. Yes, in my new heavy garments. If it isn't Myra then I'll be happy to wear it.

Time to activate all enchantments. Oh, yeah. Over three thousand points of shield strength. And I still could bump those numbers up with a few shield potions.

Opening the door indeed revealed Myra. Seeing me brought a smile to her face. Only to take a step backward in surprise noticing my new garments. Damn right. They might be substantial, but they look impressive.

"Lillyn. Hey. What are you wearing?"

"The newest in protective void-trader appeal," I reply with a barely suppressed smile. "Do come in, Myra. I am not in the mood for a walk this evening."

Stepping close, Myra instead takes my hand and looks me into the eyes.

"I am so sorry, Lillyn. I've heard about your talk with the head priestess. You've got to believe me. I hadn't known they would do something like that. Else, I would have warned you."

"It's alright," I say, patting her hand. "I survived and I emerged stronger for it."

I gesture towards the stairs and Myra takes the hint. With a nod, she starts to climb the stairs. Time for me to follow her up. Damn this heavy outfit. And Besona for giving me only a strength-stat of five. Even one point more in the stat would make this easier.

Arriving on top, I find Myra waiting. Hovering really. It makes me smile. Myra might worry a little too much, but it is nice to actually have someone to do so. As I take a seat in my small seating nook, Myra joins me. Sitting not far from me. Our knees nearly bump under the small table.

"So, what brings you to me this fine evening?"

Once again, Myra is fishing for my hands. Pulling them on the table and taking them in hers. She is always so grabby. Maybe skinship is very important to her. Not that I really mind. She has nice soft hands.

"To check in and make sure you are alright."

Always looking out for me. I give Myra a reassuring squeeze. She earned it.

"Well, as you see, I am fine. No harm was done and I got the church to back off."

Suddenly, Myra pulls her hands free and leans back. Trying to sink into her seat. Not that there is much space to do so. Even going so far to avoid my eyes.

"I actually also was sent here," Myra softly admits. "An official errand."

What now? Did the church sour my relationship with Myra? If so, there might be some renegotiation in order. No, wait. I think I figured it out. It is Myra. She is ashamed that she is on this errand. Funnily enough, I know exactly how to fix it. Leaning over the table, it is me this time scooping up her hands. Drawing them back to the table.

"I know you are in a difficult position," I assure her aloud. "You are caught between two sides. Still, you asked about my well-being first. I won't forget that."

It worked. Myra is giving me a shy smile and a nod. At least, now she looks me in the eyes again.

"Now, what nasty errand has the church tasked you?" I ask softly. "So, we can get that out of the way."

"Right," Myra agrees with a resolute nod. "I heard you made some kind of deal with the head priestess. I am not sure what the terms are, but she instructed all the priestesses on the Little Swan to fill a box with otherwordly items. Things from Earth that we don't need. To quote her 'get that pesky void-trader off our backs for a few rotations'."

The last part she tried to say in mocking imitation but failed miserably, as giggling broke through. Leaving her with a big smile that is matched by me. Apparently, I got further under the head-priestess skin than she let on. Good.

"Our deal is that I give Maryn an alibi. Pretend to be her sister to obscure the fact that she is from Earth. In exchange, I demanded some items from Earth. With some stipulations, but those are okay too."

"I see," Myra says aloud. Then, with a sheepish smile, she continues. "Can I be there when you unpack? I mean I know all the items, but some we never figured out what they do."

"Sure," I agree. It might be amusing to see how a Besonian reacts to them too. Expectantly, I look at Myra, who looks right back. After a few seconds, it dawns on me what she is waiting for. The joke is on her. "You know, to unpack the box I need you to hand it to me."

"Right!" Myra shouts out while sitting up ramrod straight. Bumping my knees in the process.

Letting go of my hands, Myra starts to materialize a box out of thin air. The box itself is made of cardboard and quite large. Taking up most of my small table. Still, it was carried over by Myra easily thanks to the soul-inventory system. It is amazing how much one can carry with it without being burdened down. I could have used this system for quite a few moves between apartments back on Earth.

"Now, let's see what your fellow priestess gifted me," I say while reaching for the lit.

"Wait!"

With a sudden outburst, Myra slammed her hands on the box. Preventing me from opening it. Looking over, I see Myra violently blushing. What is wrong now?

"I forgot to tell you something."

"Okay. What?"

Whatever it is, Myra is wrangling with herself to find the words. Meanwhile, her blush is getting deeper and deeper.

"I mentioned that your aptitude for void-magic is high," Myra started slowly. "And that you can research things quite easily. So- Some of the Little Swan's crew missed some shopping conveniences and- Well- They put a few items in there. Hoping for you to research them. Modify them."

"It can't be that bad," I assure her.

Casting a few glances between me and the box, Myra finally withdraws her hand from the box. With a slight chuckle and shake of my head, I open the lit. The box is too big to peek into it. Instead, I have to reach into it and pull things out at random. My first try made me grab for leather. Belts? They appear in a knot, so I better lift them all out at once.

What comes out is a ball of interconnected leather belts with buckles and a- Is that a dildo? No, that can't be, right? Time to unfurl this mess. Oh my gosh. It's a strap-on. Myra's co-workers put a sex toy in. No wonder she is embarrassed.

Sparring a glance at Myra reveals her trying to match a tomato in color. Her face is so red, I am starting to worry a little. Though, it gives a nice contrast to her dark metallic blue hair.

"It's okay," I assure her. "I guess naughty people are universal. So, Besona has them too. No big deal. Don't worry. I know it wasn't you who put that in."

"Right-" Myra softly agrees but avoids eye contact.

No, where to put that? The table is full. It looks like the small space on the bench between Myra and me has to do. Now, maybe the next item is worth something. Time to blindly reach into the box again and pull out a new random item. Hmm. There are a few round things in there. Soft to the touch and a little flexible. Wait. Don't tell me.

A dildo? Again? Alright. Time to stand up and take a closer look. What the hell? The whole top layer of the box is made up of dildos and vibrators! Seven more to be exact.

Calm down, Lillyn. Compose yourself. Oh, my. As flustered as I am, Myra is worse. Avoiding eye contact completely. I've got to do something before Myra pops a vein or so.

"Well, as much as I appreciate the confidence I regret to say these items are not a priority for research. Please give your co-workers my sincerest apology."

Success, Myra is laughing. Maybe a little too hard. But it cleared the awkwardness in the room. So, all is good. Now, for all these sex toys. I better put them all in the soul-inventory of my ship. So, Myra and I can concentrate on the real content of the box.

"And for the first real item we have- A hairdryer," I announce as I lift the object out of the box.

"We have hairdryers too," Myra sheepishly comments. Her blushing is finally receding. "But we never could get this one to work."

"Well, it needs an electrical current. Is that a thing on Besona?"

"Yes, but the research hasn't progressed very much," Myra explains. "A few city-states started to integrate electrical systems into their infrastructure, but the uses are limited. There aren't as many applications for it as gadgets fuelled by magic."

A hairdryer is probably not a valid object for research. And even if I get a version that works on Besona, there are already alternatives.

"Next we have a can of- Something Russian."

On the faded cover is something very red plated. Some kind of soup?

"We had a whole pallet of it," Myra remarks. "So, a few of us tried it. It was- Strange."

"Well, I don't speak Russian, but if I am correct this is the best used by date." Because Myra is looking curiously, I show her the lid and the faded numbers. "This was made in the nineties. It probably spoiled a long time ago."

Maybe I dodged a bullet there. Russian food. It might be as alien to me as Besonian food is. Probably not a good option for research. Unless- The red of the soup is very vibrant. Maybe I can use it to dye garments. just like I used my Papush ice cream before.

"Wow. That brings back memories," I say aloud as I pick up a Nokia mobile phone. "We called it 'the Brick'. My mother gave me one when I was young. For emergencies. It was so rugged it survived every roughhousing and shenanigan I did with my best friends."

"What does it do?" Myra asked. Now standing up too to get a better view. "We never could figure it out."

"It's a mobile phone. You can call people with it. Just like projections. But only your voice is transmitted. As I guessed, the batterie is empty. Not that it would matter much. Mobile phones rely on established infrastructure."

"Is this a mobile phone too?" Myra asks after scooping up the next item in the box.

"No, that's an MP3 player. By the looks of it an older model." Seeing Myra's confusion I guess I have to explain some more. "A device to playback music. One of these can contain bells worth of songs to listen to."

Both, mobile-phone and music player, make for interesting research objects. If I only can get them to work with Besonian magic. No, I doubt I can get the phone work in a way to call someone on Earth. That's a bit unrealistic. But maybe I can introduce an alternative to projections. According to Pasus, those are quite expensive.

To have music from Earth might be a big boon, but probably not something I can sell. Imagine the head priestess finding out I peddle Justin Bieber songs. Come to think of it, that would be too embarrassing for me to consider. I probably need to be cautious while researching the player too. With my luck, I end up with a brassiere playing a honking sound every time it gets squeezed.

"I wonder what Earth music sounds like."

A look to Myra and I see that she has this thousand-mile stare. As if she is somewhere else. I can tell that she is curious about Earth. Probably the reason she became a priestess of the otherworldly, to begin with.

"Well, if I get it working again, you'll be the first to know."

The rest of the box looks far less promising. There is one of those vegetable cutters. You know the one. Cutting things to ribbons in a mockery of spaghetti in order to live healthily. Explaining that one to Myra was harder than I thought. But it paled to the CD with Christmas songs composed of meowing from real cats.

"Well, this box was a mixed bag," I say aloud. "Not sure what I can use later, but I'll let you know if anything works out."

"There is one last item," Myra revealed. "Well, not provided by the church. It is more of a personal favor to ask."

Now, Myra has me curious. "I am listening."

Instead of telling me, Myra holds open her hand and summons an object. It is small. A plastic tube well used. I see letters that have been worn or scratched off. Taking it from Myra I get the impression it can be twisted open. As I thought. It is lipstick. The blue wax inside appears to be mostly used up, dried out, and slightly cracked. It's clear to me that this little lipstick has quite the journey behind it.

"It belonged to my mother," Myra softly explained. "It was her favorite and she gave it to me when I joined the church. If you can revive it, I'd be most grateful."

"I don't think it should be too hard," I assure her. After all, a few spins of research and my papush ice cream was full again too. Heck, I probably can recolor the lipstick at the same time. I have no clue about make-up but I think papush colored lipstick might be more suitable for daily use than blue. Though the blue would match Myra's hair nicely.

"Let me put this on the research bench and then- What are you in the mood for?"

"Well, I told you a little about Besona. Maybe you can tell me a little about Earth?"

It looks like this evening I will be quite boring. At least to you, dear imaginary audience. After all, I think you are very familiar with Earth. Not so Myra. I probably have to start with the basics.

I'll talk to you tomorrow. I've got the feeling it will be a busy day with research. Hopefully without too many critical failures. But knowing Besona, I doubt everything will go according to plan.

Talk to you then.

Good night.

---

---

Hey readers,

Cassy_Bee here. No! Don't skip my ramblings this time. It is important. Today's part of TTkFMMAT is a little longer on purpose. A chance to highlight every single character that has a chance to grow closer to Lillyn. That's right. It is time to vote!

Who will eventually conquer Lillyn's heart? Or will it be her that actively pursues someone? The decision is yours. Please note that you can vote for multiple persons. If there is a head-to-head race (like last time) I might be willing to even write a love triangle. But don't make me write a harem for Lillyn. That's a little too much.

You had part 12 as a reminder, but here is a small overview of Lillyn's choices.

Essie
Occupation: void-trader apprentice
Motivation: To build her own harem with Lillyn as her first conquest.
Difficulty: Essie's affords are hindered by her own need to tease Lillyn.
Opportunity: Gain a void-trader for a spreading out trade empire.

Iren
Occupation: void-trader / mistress of a trader hub
Motivation: Iren sees herself currently only in a mentor role.
Difficulty: Iren has her own harem. If Lillyn wants to be part of it, then she might have to seduce her mentor.
Opportunity: Iren is very good connected to high society through her harem and has a wealth of experience to spare.

Pasus
Occupation: void-trader / specialized on magical artefacts
Motivation: Pasus is interested in Lillyn but too shy to pursue her.
Difficulty: Lillyn has to realize she is actually attracted to him (a man) and make the first move.
Opportunity: Pasus is part of a large mercantile family. He might also help her research affords with insight.

Myra
Occupation: priestess in the Church Of The OTherworldly
Motivation: Myra makes no afford to conceal her interest in Lillyn. But is it her she wants or just someone from Earth?
Difficulty: Myra is part of another organization. One that isn't exactly friendly to Lillyn.
Opportunity: Myra can summon objects from Earth. Though it takes a while. A vital lifeline to keep Lillyn's motivation up and her homesickness at bay.

Now, it is time to vote. The link is here: >>> LINK TO THE STRAWPOLL <<<

I also want to apologize that it took me three weeks to write part 12. Obviously, it was important to me to highlight each character that Lillyn might take a fancy to. I hope I did do them justice. However, this meant that part 12 became very meaty and got delayed in turn.

I hope the next part will be on time again. Probably focusing heavily on research. Now that Lillyn has a few options.

Until next time.
Hugs and kisses,
Cassy.

Damn, last night was a long one. You might remember that Myra came over. For one to make sure I was alright and to deliver a few items I managed to blackmail from the church. Did I say blackmail? I meant skillfully negotiated as payment. What you missed are the few bells of talking we did. Well, mostly I did the talking. Myra's hunger for knowledge about Earth was unending. A natural curiosity that might explain why she joined the Church Of The Otherworldly. To me, it feels strange. I might curse about Besona a lot, but I must say this world is definitely more interesting to me than Earth. I guess we all yearn for things new and exciting to us.

A few bells in I suddenly found Myra leaning on my shoulder. Fast asleep. I guess her curiosity was greater than her body could endure. For a moment I was tempted to stay like that. I've got to admit she was kind of cute. That was until she started drooling on me. No, just kidding. But the small sitting nook in my Little Mule is not really comfortable enough to sleep one. Let alone two. So, I had to wake Myra and throw her out.

For a moment, she had looked at my bedroom. I could see the gears in her head rattling. Thankfully she decided against asking me to stay over. I don't think I am ready for that yet. Just imagine. A girly sleepover. Not really my style. Not to mention that Myra probably would have a bad time. I really toss and turn a lot in my sleep. Yes, I blame the twins stuck on my chest for that.

But even as Myra left, I couldn't find rest. Something was nagging me. Of all the new research possibilities my mind decided to cling to one item in particular: the strap-on. I mean what exactly did those pervy co-workers of Myra expect me to do? But the later the night the more my mind started to work. Could I put an enchantment on it? I contemplated a few means when my mind got stuck on the Zitoraxs slime as research material. Just imagine the wobbly enchantment on the strapped-on dildo. You know. The movement amplification. That thought was amusing enough, but what about the other possibility? Could I get the health-strider enchantment on the strap-on? Well, the strider part wouldn't fit anymore. Health-stroker would be more like it. Just imagine.

"I need a heal!"
"In a moment. I need more charge. If I fuck you it builds up faster."

Yes, it sounds like the plot of a cheesy porno. Made me chuckle for a while. But still, I couldn't sleep. My curiosity had to be satisfied. What would the strap-on and Zitoraxs slime produce on the research bench? I just had to find out. Only then, after getting my research started on this unholy project, I could find sleep.

But now, in the morning, I am like: what the hell was I thinking? It is bad enough that I have a black market for body-enhancing underwear. Do I really want to be known for peddling sex toys too? But as much as I dread the result of my late-night brainstorming, I have to clear the research bench for my next projects. Now that I have more items then it's good for me. Seriously, I have so many options now.

Focus, Lillyn. Time to see what came of my pervy musings. Wait. That's not really what I was expecting. That's a foreboding name. Right. You probably want to take a look.

> Synchronized Strap-On Of Sacrifice <
> This garment made of Antebra leather straps features two realistic phalluses of dried and hardened Zitoraxs slime. <
> Enchanted: Synchronized Orgasm <
> Passive Ability: Synchronizes the release of arousal into orgasm for the user and target participant. <
> Enchanted: Health Sacrifice <
> Passive Ability: On climax permanently reduces the health capacity of the user by 1 and permanently increases the health capacity of the target participant by 2. <
> 802 void-favors <

What the fuck? Bravo, Besona. You did it again. Throwing something in my face that I least expected. And it is utterly useless to me. My health points are already low compared to others and if I read this right they would think even further.

On the other hand, if I find someone to do me-

No, don't jump to conclusions, my imaginary audience. I am not up for one-night stands. Heck, I still have trouble acknowledging my new equipment down there. Two rotations here on Besona may sound like a long time, but believe me, it isn't. I still sometimes wake up and grab for something that isn't there anymore.

At least now that the research bench is free, I can focus on more useful projects. But where to start? Now it dawns on me that my quest for more researchable items might have been too successful. Let's take stock and see what's what.

My base stock of wares is my potions. Strengthening them would be an option, but there doesn't seem to be a demand for it. They work fine as they are.

The same goes for my secret selection. The bras with growth enchantment. Yes, I could increase the percentage which they work with, but that is hardly a priority.

I could try continuing my attempts to completely restore the Servant Maid set. But there are two problems. For one, I am stuck. Lately, I can't seem to make progress. I have the beat on all the garments of the set, but they won't progress to more than half repaired. And from what I can see, they're quite slutty in design too. Less hotel maid and more the porno version of a french maid costume. I better shelf this project until I run out of viable alternatives. At least, I got a sample of Sorentian Velvet out of it. The main fabric of these garments.

Of all my active projects, my experiments with shield enchantments bore the most fruits. Not only did I figure out how to give an item the ability to create a magical shield for defense. I also unlocked the enchantment to sustain an activated shield for longer. So far, I have researched versions for my tunic, skirt, and bracelet. That leaves my belt, shoes, and underwear. Now here is a curious thought. Could I combine one of my bras with growth enchantment with the shield and sustain enchantments? That would be three enchantments on one garment. Not for me, mind you. Just to see if it would work. Heck, while useful for me, the garments with shield enchantments have limited use for adventurers. I doubt they switch their study armor for civilian garments that are heavy to boot.

Next, we have the Zitoraxs slime. What a vexing material. I admit the health-strider enchantment on boots could be useful. But the rest? The perpetual motion of breasts is not a feature I would recommend. Or sell. Not to mention the strap-on of giving away my precious health points.

The giant question mark is the items I've got from the church last evening. No, we don't talk about the many dildos Myra's colleges threw in. The most useful is the mobile phone and MP3 player. Although I have no idea what they would yield as enchantment. Making them wild cards at best. I guess I won't know until I try. The other items are less promising. At least, I think I can use the can of Russian soup to color stuff. It is a vibrant red.

Oh, right. Myra gave me blue lipstick. One gifted to her by her mother. I guess that should be a priority. It would make a great thank-you gift for her. I can probably even research a few color variations.

Alright. I think I have my priorities straight. First, the growth bra in combination with the shield and sustaining enchantments. Followed by the lipstick for Myra. With that sorted out, it is time to start my day. I bet customers are already waiting again. Well, they can wait. I need food and a shower first. Talk to you later.

...

...

Oh no. Not him again. It's that old adventurer again. The very one I scared out of my shop as he tried to hand me the soul crystal of his friend for safe-keeping. Later I had to apologize. Not that I got many words in reply. That guy is seriously a scrooge when it comes to using words. What was his name? I think Nardare.

"You want torsos?"

What? Wait, why am I asking you.

"What?"

"Of automata. They say you pay double."

Right, I told my adventurer friend Dera that I needed torsos of those dolls running around in Maynard Mansion. There is a project I had completely forgotten about. How cool would it be to have my own automata? A servant to do stuff for me. Maybe even an army of them. Western Empire you better watch out. Empress Lillyn is on her way!

Nah, just kidding. There is no telling if I even get them to move. Especially since most that I have of these female dolls are arms, legs, and heads. The few torsos I own are badly torn up. These automata are giving adventurers a hard time and they only stop until most of their core is destroyed. Which usually means badly damaged chests.

Even if I don't get them to move again, these automata might be useful as a mannequin. From what I saw they all are very lifelike and modeled after young beautiful women.

"Yes. Right. But only if they aren't too damaged."

Nardare gives me a barely noticeable nod. "Aren't. Problem if the rest is still attached?"

"What do you mean?"

"Limbs and such."

That's even better. Keep it cool, Lillyn. Don't show your hand.

"That's acceptable. But I have to inspect them first. See how damaged they are."

Instead of answering, Nardare is offering me his hand. Five small holographic items are floating above it. No time to hesitate. I gab his callused hands and complete the trade.

Time to see what is what. Let's materialize the first one. Oh my, she is beautiful. If I wouldn't know better, I'd say she looks like a real woman. Minus that she has big balls as joints. But save for them, she looks so realistic. Anatomically correct even from what I spy between her legs. I guess the rumors are true. Maynard, the inventor of them, was a pervert.

But most impressive of all is her chest. No, not her small breasts. Well, small compared to mine. They might be a handful. No, I mean the small, but deep cut right where humans have their heart. It is the only sign of damage I can see on her. Nardare must be an expert swordsman to have taken her out with a single thrust of his sword. Especially if one keeps in mind that most adventurers literally have to hack these automata to bits to make them stop.

One by one, I inspect the five automata Nardare brought to me. All felled with a single-precision thrust to the chest. Leaving the rest unblemished. Save for this single mark, the automata vary widely. Each has its own face. Varies in body proportions and assets. It is clear Maynard had spent a lot of time on them.

There is only one drawback to Nardare bringing me these automata nearly undamaged. They all have a void-value of nearly a thousand. And I promised to pay double. That's nearly ten grand right then and there. Shit. But a promise is a promise.

"These are acceptable," I say as I offer my hand with the payment.

Once again I feel the callused hand of the warrior as he confirms the trade.

"I'll be back with more."

Wait. More? He'll be ruining me.

"I only need five more," I blur out.

"Five it is."

And with a small nod, that guy is walking off my ramp. Damn, what a vexing guy. I just can't make heads or tails out of him. But looking at the last of the automata, leaning against a wall of my Little Mule, I can't help but admit that he has his uses. And that he is probably the strongest adventurer in the camp. Better not to piss him off again.

...

...

"Lillyn."

The shout alerted me to Myra was rushing towards me.

"Myra. I just was on my way towards you. Want to take a walk?"

It's evening and time for my walk around the courtyard. Well, I can't stay inside my Little Mule forever. That might show the church they rattled me and we can't have that, right?

"Of course," Myra agreed. Grabbing my arm and hooking under it. "You are wearing your old clothes again. The new ones not working out?"

Yes, I only wear my tunic and skirt of sustaining. The other versions are just too heavy for a stroll. Even a leisurely one. But I am not without protection. I wear my Bracelet Of Sustained Shielding of course. And, in addition, I researched a version of my belt with the same enchantments. Making it quite ornamental too.

"A little too heavy for daily use."

Looking around first, Myra leans close to me. For a moment, I thought she might kiss me. Instead, she whispers a question. "Did any of the items from Earth prove to be useful?"

"I haven't started on them yet," I admit truthfully. "There was something more pressing to research."

With a flourish, I summon a lipstick for Myra. Handing her the restored item.

"You did it. Thank you so much."

"I am not done," I promise. A moment later I have materialized a second lipstick, but this one colored papush. Then, for good measure, I summon the original lipstick she gave me. I know it has sentimental value for her.

"I don't know what to say."

Of course, Myra has to uncap all three of them. Looking for a moment hesitant. Then deciding on the papush colored one. Immediately coating her own lips expertly. Even without a mirror.

Smacking her lips, she suddenly looks surprised. "This one even tastes like papush."

Then kissed me. No, not on the lips. On the cheek. It felt- Nice.

"I've got to find a way to properly thank you later," Myra promises me with a wink.

Wait, is she flirting with me? No, must be my imagination.

"So, all your research today was used up all for me?"

"Not exactly."

There is no way I can tell Myra of the strap-on. She might get the wrong impression. What else is there to say? Right.

"Oh, I researched the 'Cross-Strap Bra Of The Shieldmaiden'."

Because I see Myra's curious look, I hand her a copy. Alright. Alright. I haven't forgotten about you my imaginary audience. Take a look.

> Cross-Strap Bra Of The Shieldmaiden <
> The Staps of this brassiere join in the back between the shoulder blades and then go downward. Giving the garment added support for high movement activities. The material is Hounshack leather, various metals, and gemstones.<
> Enchanted: cumulative personal shield <
> Active ability: Spends charge to summon a personal shield or reinforce an already established one. <
> Passive ability: While inactive it collects 51 points of charge each bell up to 911 points. An active shield steadily loses 72 points of charge each bell. <
> Enchanted: sustaining of personal shield
> Passive ability: Reinforces a personal shield with 11 points of charge each bell. <
> Enchanted: indicative growth <
> Passive ability: While a personal shield is active a localized growth enchantment is active that depends on the shield's strength. The maximum charge of this garment equalling a 20% boost in growth. <
> Enchanted: of the maiden <
> Passive ability: All other enchantments are boosted by 89% while this garment is worn by a woman. <
> 3371 void-favors <

"Wow. That is quite the read," Myra remarks drily. "Is that what you've been up to all this time? Researching clothes."

That's quite an understatement. Yes, I wanted to find out how many enchantments I could stick on one garment. I guess I have been a little too successful. This item description is a tome all to itself. Four enchantments are quite the count. I wonder what else I could put on there just to see how far I can push it. But for that, I have to find new enchantments that might fit on a bra. Yes, I purposely ignore the amplified movement enchantment. Don't even think about bringing that one up.

"For a while, it was that or making more potions."

Of course, Myra has to materialize the bra. The moment she notices how heavy it is, I have to suppress a chuckle. This bra is a far cry from the original. In fact, the leather foundation can hardly be seen from the front. Most of it is taken up by metal applications with gems that strongly resemble the bracelet Pasus gave me. I can't say it is a chainmail-bikini top. It more resembles scale armor. Just very localized. If I hadn't known of the enchantments I would have branded it the most useless armor ever invented.

"So, what else have you been up to?" Myra asks while handing me the bra back.

"Well. I might have a few mannequins soon and-"

You know what? Let me enjoy this walk around with Myra in peace. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Until then. Bye.

---

---

Hey Readers,

thanks to all of you who voted.
I think the end result is pretty clear.
You want more Myra.
You will get it.
Of course, Pasus, Iren, and Essie won't be gone.
They will stay an integral part of TTkFMMAT.

While writing Part 13 I noticed something else:
Damn, I wrote many item descriptions.
It's getting harder and harder to keep them sorted.
With those 2 new ones, I come up to 23 in total.
Just how do game designers of real games manage writing thousands of them?

Well, there will be more.
So, stay tuned.
Hugs and kisses,
Cassy

Damn, it isn't there. Not even a damaged version. Right, you have no idea what I am talking about, my imaginary audience. It's those vexing automata I got from Nardare. I researched all five of them. The last just finished a moment before. Each unlocked a ton of individual parts. Apparently, those automata were highly modifiable and customizable. It explains why they all look different. From all of those parts, I could probably build dozens of individualized automata.

There is just one problem. They all are missing their core. The central piece that makes them tick. Not one research yielded a version of it. Even a damaged version eluded my grasp. Without them, I am stuck with having expensive mannequins. Beautiful ones, but useless. Well, they are poseable. Maybe they come in handy if I ever switch to a purely clothing-oriented shop. Not that I plan to do so.

But I found something out. If I dress them in a garment that affects the body, like those growth enchantment bras, their body is affected too. So, maybe I can use them as a sort of crash test dummies. No more experimenting on myself. At least that is something.

Well, it is time to open my shop. But before then, I have to decide on a new research project. Hmm. Maybe I should give that can of Russian soup a go. Along with the lipstick. Myra probably would love another new color.

Alright. Done.

Time to open my shop.

Talk to you later.

...

...

I heard Dera walking up the ramp before I saw her. It was the unmistakable clicking of high heels on steel. That would be the "Adventurer Boots of the Health-Strider". The knee-high boots that charge up a heal while walking. A side effect of having an enchantment on the boots was that the heel grew. Why? I have no idea. But the pair Dera was sporting had something in length around four to five centimeters. Making it the only pair of high heels in existence on Besona. At least, as far as I know.

"Hey, Lillyn."

"Dera. What brings you here?"

The adventuress gave me a shrug. "Sorry. Not to fulfill your bounty. I am low on health potions and need to stock up."

"Are the Health-Strider boots not working out?"

Well, I thought they might not. Maybe they take too long to recharge or the amount they heal is too low after all.

"Oh, no. They're fine," Dera promptly assured me. "I mean they can't beat the healing of a potion. But they charge up faster than I thought and they make for a good quick emergency heal. However, I think I like them in the evening best. Normally I walk out of a zone with scrapes and bruises too little to waste a healing potion on. Now, I just use up whatever charge I have on the boots. That's pretty nice to have. I am actually considering buying a pair when my trial of them runs out."

"Keep them," I say generously. "As payment for your feedback. I am glad they are working out and maybe I can sell them to a few others. Provided you recommend them to your friends-"

"Definitely!" Dera replied enthusiastically.

And why not? I just gifted her about one and a half thousand void-favors in merchandise. Damn, I am bleeding void-favors lately. First those I paid out to Nardare and now my gift to Dera. Well, I think both can be counted as investments. Dera will be my walking billboard. She just doesn't know it yet.

"In fact, keep me in mind if you ever need another product tested."

Did Dera just say what I think she did? Great. It might be easier to get to the next step planned for her.

"Funny that you would say that because-"

"Yes?"

"I have a new bra to be tested."

"A new bra?" Dera asks with a big grin. "Knowing your previous work, I am all in."

"Oh, don't be so sure," I tell her after leaning in. Tinging my voice in a conspirational tone. "For this bra is unlike any other."

"Come on. Show me," Dera demanded. Practically vibrating on my ramp with excitement. "Don't keep me waiting."

With a flourish, I summon a copy of my "Cross-Strap Bra Of The Shieldmaiden". Laying the garment on the counter before her.

"It's beautiful," Dera commented, but then frowned a little. "But it looks heavy. So much metal."

"Well, it is," I have to admit aloud. "But it is needed. For, you see, this bra has not one, nor two or three, but four enchantment embued into it."

"Woah. That's a lot. On a bra no less. What does it do?"

"How does a personal shield of around nine hundred points sound?"

"Not bad," Dera admitted. "I know a caster who has a bracelet with half as many points. Useful for ranged adventurers. For melee adventurers less so. Even nine hundred points won't make much of a difference to the health points we hoard. But it can soften the danger when rushing into a new room. So, it could have some use."

Interesting. I haven't actually thought of how personal shields would impact different types of adventurers.

"Well, then the second enchantment might be more useful for those with range and don't immediately get beaten up," I admit. "It reduces the decay of a shield by eleven points each bell."

Dera nodded. "My friend hesitates to activate hers regularly. Saving it for an emergency. Because if she activates it early, the decay would eat it up before even seeing action. This might give her more freedom. Not to mention nine hundred points last longer."

Before I can reveal the next enchantment, Dera gives me a sad shake of her head.

"To be honest, Lillyn, this isn't what I had expected from you. Or what a bra can do. I hoped for more along the lines of-"

Her hovering her hands above her breasts and expanding made her meaning pretty clear to me. Well, if she wants a magical boob-job then, oh-boy, I can accommodate.

"Funny that you would say that, because-"

"Yes?"

"You see, it does boost your bosom by twenty percent, but there is a catch. It only activates when a personal shield is active. And it scales. Twenty percent if your shield is at full. Less percent equals less boost."

"Aww, you meany," Dera said while lightly punching my shoulder. "For a moment you had me going there, but shrinking breasts as the shield collapses? That sounds gimmicky and your normal growth-bras do a better job at keeping me well endowed."

"Oh, but you don't know the best part," I assure her with a cat-ate-the-mouse-grin. "The last enchantment boosts all other enchantments by eighty-nine percent if worn by a woman."

"Wait. That means-" Slowly, understanding blossomed in my client's eyes. "That will be around- One thousand and seven hundred points of personal shield. And about twenty points of shield decay reduction." And then there it was. Her eyes grew wide and a mischievous grin appeared on her face. "Forty percent of growth, right?" she simply asked.

"Around thirty-eight," I correct.

"Thirty-eight. Forty. Who cares? You are brilliant, Lillyn. And I get to test it? For real?"

"Yes," I assure her. "And take these with you. Ten shield potions. To top you off when needed. So you can stay close to the max."

"Lillyn, you are the best," Dera exclaimed before giving me an enthusiastic hug. Damn that girl is strong. If she isn't careful, she might break my back.

"Just tell me in a few days how it works out. And do take care of the bra. It's worth over three thousand void-favors."

"Three thousand?" Dera exclaimed while lifting the bra up. "I've never heard of a bra this expensive. A real luxury item you created."

"It's fine. Just remember to actually test it out. Not just parade around with a big chest."

"I will. I will," Dera promised.

After a heartfelt goodbye, I am free to actually care for my other customers. The waiting line is already growing again. But before I do that, let's check on the research again.

Damn, still no success. I mean, I researched the soup just fine. Turns out it is called Borscht. Whatever that is. It failed to recolor the lipstick. So, a bust there. Turns out the can was past its best used by date by ten years. Each research cycle reduced that by two years. Maybe soon I have Borscht that is actually consumable.

But for now, let's switch up the research. Borscht isn't working out. I had hoped to surprise Myra with a new color. Wait, isn't Zitoraxs slime bright yellow? Not a traditional lipstick color, but maybe Myra likes whacky colors. Let's give it a try. At least for one research cycle or two.

...

...

Damn, it is hard to keep my face straight, as I service my last few customers of the day. Just past them, I can see Myra hovering. Practically vibrating with excitement. It's kind of cute.

But, she has to wait. I am a professional. And she can wait for a few customers to be serviced. Of course, once the last one stepped off my Little Mules ramp, Myra practically ran up to me.

Up close, I can see her wearing the blue lipstick I had revived for her. To be honest it gives her a little bit of a goth look. With her matching blue hair and black blouse and skirt. Well, not complete goth. More punkish goth if that makes sense. Not to mention that I have never seen such a bright smile on a goth before.

"My Mom wants to meet you!"

"What?"

I mean. What?! That's a strange way to start a conversation. No "Hello" or "How was your day".

"I projected to my parents a few bells ago. Showing off both of the lipsticks you researched for me. They are impressed. You are hereby courtly invited to stay at their estate in the Conturrus region. If you ever are in the area of course. They'd probably buy a lifetime's worth of products."

Well, that explains it. Myra must be hyped because of her talks with her parents. To be honest, I feel a little jealous and sad. I never was on the best terms with my parents, but the thought of never seeing them again still hurts, you know? I won't ever be returning to Earth and, even if I could, they wouldn't recognize me.

"I will," I promise aloud. "They might even see a new product. One freshly researched."

"Oh, what is it?"

Instead of answering, I summon a copy of my newest lipstick. At once, Myra reaches for it, but I pull away before she can get her fingers on it.

"Not so fast," I say with a Cheshire grin. "This is no ordinary lipstick. And I don't mean the neon yellow color. It is enchanted."

"What? Lillyn, that is amazing. What does it do?"

"See for yourself," I say handing her the lipstick.

Of course, my dear imaginary audience, I haven't forgotten about you. Take a look.

> Gel-Lipstick Of The Healing Kiss <
> This lipstick boasts not only with strange ingredients like Zitoraxs slime. It's wax and the ornate container is enchanted. Making it a new kind of fashion statement for adventurers. <
> Color: Neon Yellow <
> Enchanted: Healing Kiss <
> Active ability: Applied lipstick can be transferred to a target by touch. Draining the user of 3 points of their primary magic pool to heal the target for 69 health points. The efficiency may decrease with the deterioration of applied lipstick.<
> Enchanted: Regenerative Container <
> Passive ability: Restores 2% of the lipstick wax each day up to the original amount. Prevents drying out. <
> 207 void-favors <

Myra gasps as she read the description. "This lipstick never runs out?"

"Well, it can," I assure her. "If you use it too much at once. But still, it will regenerate. At least that is what the description implies."

"Wow," Myra simply commented. "A lipstick that lasts forever. If it only was another color." Myra is giving me a bemused grin. "I am sorry to say, but yellow isn't really my color."

"Yeah, I figured as much." It would look a little silly I have to admit. "Don't you worry. I am working on other colors. This was just a preview of what is possible."

"Lillyn, you're amazing," Myra gushed as she tried to hand me the lipstick back.

"Keep it," as I cup her soft hands with my own and push them back. "Use it as a curioso for your friends or family."

"So many gifts you have given me." Suddenly, Myra is lightly slapping the counter between us. "I nearly forgot! This time, I have a gift for you too. Well, a guard gathered it for me. But I wanted to share something with you. My favorite fruit. Maybe it will even taste better than apples to you."

Color me intrigued. I mean, I could use more variety in my kitchen. There is only so much Hushberry soup one can eat, right?

Myra starts to materialize her gift from her soul-inventory and, at once, I can see it is big. Turns out the guard picked a whole basket full of-

Are those cherries?

Well, no. They look like cherries. But they are big. Grapefruit-sized really. That and pastel pink. In fact, their color reminds me of-

"They're called Papush," Myra explained. "They taste very good, but you should see the trees. They are big and when they blossom their dark pink petals cover the ground. Like a carpet. It is magical."

So, these are Papush in their original form. Why do they look so much like cherries? And the Papush ice cream tastes like cherries too. I've got to try one. Mhm, yes. The fruit itself tastes just like cherries. But there is so much more pulp.

"I take it, you like them?"

"They taste just like fruit from Earth I know. One of my favorites. They look like them too. Well, ours are smaller and very red. In fact, we named a tone of red after them."

Are all those similarities just random chance? Maybe the item description will help.

> Papush (Sweet) <
> A type of fruit researched and cultivated by the void-trader Lucinus Lullus in the Anolia region by crossing a local fruit-tree species with a species of unknown origin. It is praised for its sweet pulp and vibrant color. <
> 15 void-favors <

Strange. It was cultivated by a void-trader? Shouldn't it be a gardener or farmer? But the description is right. It is very sweet and-

Ouch. Oh, it has a seed inside. Doesn't look like a cherry stone too. More like the seed of an Avocado.

"Thank you for this, Myra," I wholeheartedly exclaim. "They may not be the cherries I know from Earth, but at least they taste and smell like them. And now I finally know how a Papush actually looks like."

"Cherries?" Myra asked. "I think I heard that name before. Or read about it. The church stores a lot of information about other worlds in its catacombs. We priestesses are free to do research down there."

"Tell me more about that," I urge her. "But maybe over a nice walk."

"Of course."

"For that, I have to close the ramp, Myra. The one you are standing on."

"Right."

Instead of stepping off the ramp and going to the side entrance, Myra plops down on my counter and swivels over. I guess that's one way to solve the problem.

Well, time to close up shop and go for a walk.

Talk to you all tomorrow.

Bye.

---

---

Hey, Readers,

Cassy here. I know. I know. 3 weeks for a new update to TTkFMMAT.
I blame work. Or more specifically the few business trips I had.
With a little luck, I should have a few free days coming up.
Hopefully, that equals to new parts coming out on time.

Until then,

Cassy

Good morning. I hope you don't mind me eating while monologuing to you.

Damn, they might look wrong and have a stupid name, but they taste just right. Of course, I am talking about papush. They taste like cherries and have the same form. But there the similarities end. Papush are bigger than cherries. Not to mention their color is this intense pastel pink instead of red. Heck, if Myra is to be trusted, the same red that is missing is displayed on the papush blossoms. As if someone or something switched the colors of fruit and petals. Well, not completely. A dark pink, Myra had said.

What has me confused is the flavor text of the papush. It says the papush was researched and cultivated. Not by a farmer, gardener, or biologist. Nope, it was a void-trader. By crossing an unknown fruit with a local variant. Was that a cherry? Might be. Myra said she had heard the name cherries before. The description of apples was showing errors. All the names related to Earth blanked out. Not to mention, that all the apples I can summon from the void, are missing seeds. But papush does have seeds. How? I think the answer lies within the description of the papush. The void-trader crossed a local fruit with an unknown. What if I do the same? Maybe cross apples with papush. Would that localize the apple? Give them a seed? I've got to try it, right?

Well, after breakfast. One more papush can't hurt.

....

....

"Next!"

Damn, the next adventurer looks rough. Stepping onto the ramp of my Little Mule with torn armor and a lot of blood splattered all over. His hands dyed red with dried blood.

"I take it you need healing potions?"

The young man looks at me with tired eyes. It takes a moment for him to nod. "Yes. Yes, I do. But first."

He places a crystal on my counter. It was a hexagon in shape. As long as my forearm had two bronze rings clamped onto it near the tapering-off ends. Within its deep red translucent body, a light shone forth. Flickering like a campfire on a stormy night. I've seen one of those before. It's a soul-crystal. Nardare had once tried to give me one for safe-keeping. Not knowing what it was, I had made an ass of myself.

"I'll give you one hundred soul-flakes if you safe-guard it until the soul-guide arrives."

Soul-flakes. A magical currency that eluded me so far. One hundred wasn't much. Compared to what I would need to remodel my body at a soul-guide. The mages that utilized soul-flakes. They could make me male again. Provided I could pay the hefty amount of two hundred thousand soul-flakes. One hundred of them were all but a drop in the bucket towards that goal, but it appeared to be the standard courtesy tip paid to a void-trader for keeping a soul-crystal safe. At least until a soul-guide arrives and then revives a person from the soul-crystal.

"I can do that," I assure the young man. "The soul-guide should only be a few days out."

"Well, maybe that will do him good," the adventurer replied. "Fool tried to take out an automata in one strike. Missed. Got skewered good in return."

Damn. Fool indeed. He probably tried to fulfill my bounty for mostly undamaged automata bodies. As far as I know, only one person is experienced enough to accomplish that task of one-hit downing automata. And that's Nardare. The friend of this adventurer probably tried to emulate Nardare and screwed up. Literally. Well, it will be a learning experience. Once he is revived by the soul-guide.

"I'll take care of him," I tell the adventurer after he offered me the one hundred soul-flakes. "Now, health potions?"

"Yes, please."

....

....

Finally! Lunch break. Damn, my back is killing me. Actually, my whole body is. Sitting around all day isn't the best for body or posture. Maybe I should get a standing counter. Well, that would suck in the long term too.

Well, time to eat. But first, let's check what my experimental research yielded. And I got a-

What the frack is a Blupple?

> Blupple (Myralis) <
> Through reckless research by the void-trader Lillyn, this monstrosity of fruit was created by crossing an unknown species with a local fruit tree. It has the potential to yield high volumes of juice and its skin might be used for dyeing. <
> 32 void-favors <

Reckless research? That's uncalled for. I mean isn't research exactly what void-traders are supposed to do? Not much to go on except I wonder why it says monstrosity. And the little fact that there is "Myralis" in the name. Is it a coincidence that one of my close friends is called Myra? Could she have influenced the research? I doubt it. Myra wasn't anywhere close when I researched the "Blupple". Then again, it was she who summoned the apples to BEsona in the first place.

Well, time to summon a Blupple and see why the description says it is a monstrosity. Strange, the materialization is blue and there is a lot of it. Wait, how big is that gonna get?

Ufff!

That's heavy. This thing is the size of a watermelon. And blue. Like a shiny royal blue. Just let me put it down on the counter.

What the heck? It has the shape of an apple, alright. But why is it so big and blue? So much for my theory that localizing a fruit only switches colors. Well, let's check if this giant apple has at least seeds. Time to get a knife. Or a saw. Be right back.

Alright. Time to check the inside. At least the pulp is still normally colored. I feared the worst. Damn, there is a lot. If an apple a day keeps the doctor away then this blupple must keep the doctor away for a week. The skin is unusually thick too and has its own juice. Which is blue, of course. Damn, it stains too. I hope I get it washed off. One more cut and- Yes, blupples have seeds. Three the size of an avocado seed nestled closely together.

This means I have successfully localized an Earthern fruit. My name is engraved in history forever in the description of the blupple. The most stupid name in existence. Worse than papush. It sounds like someone took the words blue and apple and smushed them together.

Oh, god.

Don't tell me that's exactly it.

Who or whatever writes these descriptions got lazy, right?

I mean how stupid does one have to be-

This is so stupid.

Breath in, Lillyn.

Breath out.

Slow and steady.

Sorry, guys.

I think I need a moment.

Talk to you later. After I calmed down.

....

....

Damn, it is late.

I should go to bed.

Even Myra excused herself.

Well, she left when I got a call from Essie. It was time to catch up with her again, you know.

It is well into the night and I should be sleeping, but those stupid automata are vexing me. I just can't make progress on them. It appears that everything is there save for one component. The core. Judging by the empty slot in the chest it should be round and the size of a salt shaker. But I haven't even a damaged version of the core. So, how do I research one? There must be a way to do it.

Even without core, the automata are functional to some extent. If I summon one, I can see that they have their own soul-inventory. There is even a summonable status display. They don't have the same stats as a human has. Instead, they have closely related ones. There is no strength, but muscle efficiency. Instead of a constitution stat, automata have chassis-optimization. I even can see that they have durability points instead of health points and have limited self-repair ability.

Heck, there was an option in the head to change the designation from something with random numbers and letters to a name. If you must know, I called this one "Becky". What? Her looks remind me of a Becky I knew in high school.

But starring Becky in the flickering of the nearby soul-crystal for the last two bells revealed nothing of her secrets. I am stumped. My options on how to progress in their research have all been exhausted.

I really should go to bed.

But pushing off my stool, my eyes fall on the soul-crystal. No, that wouldn't work, right? Is that ethical?

With trembling hands, I pick up the soul-crystal. I've got to try. Or else the very possibility will keep me up for the rest of the night.

Well, Becky. This is it. Will sleeping beauty awake? Will she have the skills and memory of the unfortunate adventurer whose soul-crystal I am holding?

Alright, now I feel stupid. The crystal doesn't fit the slot. Not even close. Already the hexagonal shape of the crystal is too big to slide in. Not to mention that the crystal has two bronze rings clamped onto it. Or that the soul-crystal is as long as my forearm and the slot not even the width of my hand.

I guess I am too tired to think properly. Time to head to bed. Talk to you tomorrow.

....

....

I don't wanna get up!

Who is buzzing at my Little Mules door at such an early hour?

Shit, I overslept. It's two bells past my usual time to get up. Outside there are probably customers that grow impatient. Frustrated enough to ring my doorbell.

Alright. Alright. Stop buzzing. I am coming.

Not even time to eat something. I bet my stomach will remind me later. Angrily. At least getting dressed in Besona is easy. Just materialize clothes on you and done.

Just a few seconds later, I am stumbling down the stairs. Time to open the door and give those hooligans my piece of mind for disturbing my beauty sleep.

"Iren?"

"Morning, Lillyn," my Mentor offers while mustering me. "Rough night?"

Of course, she looks like freshly out of a wellness retreat. Polished up and clad in a dress I can only describe as practical high-fashion.

What was she doing here? Shouldn't she be busy leading her trade-hub? Maybe it has something to do with my run-in with the Church Of The Otherworldly. Or was this simply her checking in on me?

"You could say that," I admit slowly. "Oh, come in. What brings you here?"

"You are surprised?" she asks. Ignoring that I obviously was. "I told you a few days ago I would visit you."

"Right, you want details about the deal I made with the church."

"That too," Iren admits. "And to buy a few things. Did you forget my big haul?"

Scratching my head I try to remember.

Urgh, I forgot to comb my hair. Pretty sure my hair looks like a birdnest right now. Big haul. Right. Iren wanted to buy some of my enchanted bras for her harem. I can practically smell the void-favors rolling my way. If they had a corporeal form. Well, you get what I mean, right?

"The bras," I exclaim out loud. "Right. I can materialize them and then you can make your decision about which one you need."

"Don't bother. I take all of them. In every variation you have," Iren shot me down. "But first, what is this?"

What does she mean? Iren had stepped into my salesroom and then got distracted. I wonder what caught her eye.

"Oh, that. That's Becky."

Instead of gracing my comment with one of her own, she just looks at me. Right, I guess I wasn't very forthcoming with my answer.

"She's an automata. Old Maynard designed them and they run around all over the property. They act as servants and guards. I thought it might be a worthy research project to pursue."

"Interesting," Iren remarks dryly. Studying the automata up close. "Is it safe? Can she move on her own?"

"No, I got stumped. A vital component is missing. Without that, they are just expansive mannequins."

"What else have you been up to?"

"Well, where to start-"

I spare you the details of a half bell of me summarizing my research to Iren. As well as me regurgitating my encounter with the church.

"Looks like you are drifting into the fashion sector with your research," Iren remarked at the end. "I should bring you a few dresses."

"What? No. That just happened by chance. I don't think I am ready yet to wear dresses."

"I mean for enchantment," Iren corrects me. "It could do wonders for your portfolio. And a few pieces of court-appeal with defensive properties could do well sales-wise in the high society."

"I guess it might be worth looking into," I admit aloud. "But for now, let's talk business. You want every bra once and in each color version, right?"

"No, I need seventeen of each bra in each color." Iren gives me a tired sigh. "That's the drawback of a large harem, Lillyn. Especially one recruited from the high society itself. My advice: don't. It has its perks, but damn, it can sap your void-favors."

Do I hear a "ka-ching"? Poor Iren. Lucky me. Come to papa, void-favors. Wait. Come to momma.

"I hadn't planned on having one," I admit truthfully. "Though you might want to warn Essie."

"It's the one lesson she doesn't wanna hear from me," Iren admits with another sigh.

"Well, if you say every version you don't mean the 'Cross-Strap Bra Of The Shieldmaiden', right? That one is over three thousand void-favors."

"How in tarnation did you manage that?" Iren looks really disturbed by my revelation. "Maybe not those."

"Can I offer anything else? Enchanted lipsticks? Or a really special strap-on?"

I think the rest of my sales pitch is better left behind closed doors.

....

....

I am not sure if Iren can see me as I wave towards the Little Mule that is just taking off. All too soon the intricate design on Iren's ship blur together. She has this pattern of white, pink, and red lines all flowing into each other. Like a giant knot. Accented by gold that announces her status in the void-trader community. Which I am finally part of.

This time I managed to remember the guild donation. One thousand void-favors less in my pockets. Not that I mind much. Thanks to Iren's little shopping trip I am nearly eight thousand void favors richer. And that's after the donation. I even managed to sell four of my shieldmaiden bras.

As even the speck of Iren's Little Mule vanishes in the distance, I turn around. Time to service some customers. Or should I? I mean today I earned more than in a rotation. Maybe a day off will do me good.

"Lillyn!"

Is that Dera running towards me? I nearly didn't recognize her. Muss be her new endowment. Her chest is way bigger than yesterday. And why is she running around topless? Well, save for one very expensive bra.

"Dera? What's up with you?" I ask as she reaches me.

"I need more shield potions!"

"You already used them all up?" I mean they aren't supposed to be drunk like energy drinks. "And why are you running around all naked?"

"It is better if I show you," Dera said instead of answering. "I can demonstrate if you gift me two shield potions."

What is she on about? Dera also has this mischievous grin on her face. I don't think I get an answer unless I bribe her with potions. Fine. Let's summon two and see where it goes.

"Observe," Dera simply says as I hand the potions over. She uncorks both at downs them at the same time.

At once, I can see her chest swelling further outward. A little more and she might reach my category of personal endowments. While mine is larger, hers are nearly uncovered and, of course, it draws the eyes of adventurers around us.

"How is that possible?" I ask aloud. "The bra should stop the growth at thirty-eight percent."

"Wrong!" Dera immediately corrects me. "The thirty-eight percent are based on the maximum of the shield the bra can create. But you forgot that one can overcharge a personal shield. And with it, my bosom grows even larger."

"That's possible? Well, apparently it is. Let me guess, you are so proud of your new melons that you have to show them to everyone around."

"What are melons? Anyway. The reason why I am not wearing armor is simple. It doesn't fit. The bra grows when my breasts grow, but my armor doesn't. That gets uncomfortable real fast. And I don't need the armor anyway as long as the shield is up."

"Alright. That makes sense. But just a little. Aren't they distracting? The mass of it all?"

"What? No!" Dera said quickly to squash away my doubts. "For one, I can take calculated risks like never before without risking getting hurt. On the other hand, my male comrades really look out for me. The less I get hurt, the longer they get to stare at my magnificent bosom. Our group's healer is so jealous, I swear once she got the void-favors to spare, she'll get a bra from you too."

Did I just imagine it or did Dera give me a dirty wink? Anyway. I am still not fully convinced overloading one's bosom with potions and running around half-naked is practical.

"Aside from making your male compatriots horny and your female ones jealous, is there any actual improvement in combat?"

"Yes! That's why I need more potions. We nearly made it to the workshop in the Servant's Quarters."

"Well, that is probably the place old Maynard tinkered with his automata. It's on the top floor and normally hard to reach. Sometimes one can find some goodies or enchanted gear. Buried under stacks of papers, books, and blueprints."

"A workshop you say-"

I look at the Servant's Quarters in the distance. There, I might find a clue to unlocking my very own automata that work. Maybe even the key to unlocking their full potential.

"Say, Dera, are you up for a quest?"

"What type of quest?"

"The hardest type," I reveal. "An escort quest-"

This is a bad idea.

I know it is.

And even if I didn't, last evening Myra had said it often enough to me. I told her I can't let it rest. That doing this might uncover how I make my mark on this world. How to finally show Besona the middle finger.

But now, standing before the servant's quarters, I think Myra might be right. I've walked a dozen times past this building. Either with Pasus or later with Myra. But this time, I will walk into it. Explore what is inside. At least, I won't do it alone.

"Lillyn! Woah, you dressed up."

"Hey, Dera. I thought I might as well."

Yes, I am decked out the whole nine yards. The heavy version of my tunic and skirt. The one both sustaining personal shields and being able to create them. Two bracelets of shielding. As well as a belt that could create and sustain a shield. I even donned the cross-strap bra of the shieldmaiden. Yes, the monster bra that can make my breasts grow by nearly forty percent. Not that I intend to activate it. It's a mere precaution. At last, I have health-strider boots. Not the adventurer-type ones Dera is wearing. No, just the work-boots version. I doubt me stilting on high heels would be a good idea. And yes, I do count the four to five-centimeter heels as high.

"Great," Dera said. "But don't worry. My team will keep you safe. First, we have Rea. She's our healer and mage. Davan is a fighter specializing in evasion. He also looks out for traps and hidden passages. Not that there are any in the servant quarters. But the main mansion has a lot of them. And, at last, we have Balsar. He will be your bodyguard in there."

Well, just by the looks of it, I think Balsar will make a good job protecting me. Heck, the man is a giant and he lugs around a tower shield larger than most people's front door. Also, he carries a sword so broad it too might double as a shield. Not to mention it might make Maryn jealous. Not that she is here. She too would probably argue against this venture.

Davan has the typical look of a rogue. Not the most impressive body, bulk-wise, but he appeared fit and quick. But he had the looks to not just steal loot from hardened spaces, but also the hearts of women at any bar. And Rea. Well, she doesn't look like a mage or healer to me. Maybe all the fantasy films and books of earth lied to me all the time. No robes or capes. Instead, she wore tight-fitting leather armor. Just like Davan. If Dera hadn't said otherwise, I would have assumed she was a fighter too. At least the spellbook in her hands marked her as such. I could also see why Dera said Rea was interested in my special Enchant-Up bras. She didn't have much up top.

After a short meet and greet, Dera spoke up. "Everyone ready?"

Hell no, but this was my idea. Gotta stick with it, right? "Yeah."

Liar. Liar. Pants on fire. Well, skirt. But here we go. Dera was taking charge. Stemming open the large doors of the servant quarters. As she strutted in, I could see Davan looking. Not at the surroundings, but at Dera's butt. Guess high-heels and the sway that comes with them work on any male. Besonian or Earther. Not that Dera has that much of a butt. Mine are bigger. Shit, I hope Balsar isn't starring at mine instead of being cautious. Still, I better don't look back at the brute. He's right behind me and is supposed to keep me safe. Don't wanna give the wrong impression of me.

The first room was impressive. The ceiling is way up. Taking up the space of two floors. Below our feet is a carefully laid mosaic of different types of polished wood. Benches lined the room's opulent walls. I can spot two doors. Each beside a small reception.

"Through administration or storage?" Davan asked aloud. "Administration would be shorter."

"But also more cramped," Rea pointed out.

"Storage," Dera decided after a moment. "More space to fan out."

As we started walking towards the left door, Balsar must have noticed my roaming gaze. "Maynard assigned each guest a servant. If they wanted, they could come here and get theirs customized to their liking. Or pay some money to get additional ones assigned."

"Thanks," I said aloud with a nod. "What was that about administration or storage?"

"The building has two wings," Balsar rumbled from behind me, just as we walked through the door. Beyond was a large room that was roughly in the shape of an L. It also spanned several floors with parapets on each floor. It reminds me of a prison, but instead of cells, the walls were lined with alcoves. And in most of these alcoves Automata rested among stir-ups, machines, and tools.

"This is the storage," my bodyguard continued. "Don't worry, most Automata froze in the hardened space as idle. They won't react or engage unless they are disturbed. Here they were stored, maintained, or modified between assignments."

Shit. Double and triple shit! Just on this floor, I could see at least a hundred alcoves. Nearly two-thirds had occupants. This had been a stupid idea. If the other floors held as many alcoves then I could guess that there were over three hundred automata in the building. But at least there was a ray of hope. Or not, as Dera walked straight past it.

"Why aren't we taking the elevator?"

"They are broken down and hardened in that state. We have to take the stairs."

"Incoming!" Rea's shout made me turn my head forward. Just to witness a giant fireball impact with an Automata. Even as the fireball dissipated, two more Automata ran through the fading plume. One is immediately engaged by Dera who used her sword to wail on the servant. Said automata blocked with their bare arms. Not even caring that each hit by Dera carved deep gorges into their artificial flesh.

The second Automata tried to hit Davan who danced out of the way. Only striking back occasionally. I get the impression he mostly tried to hold the servant's attention, while Rea used smaller spells to dismantle the Automata step by step.

To be honest, the whole sudden clash made me stumble back. Right into Balsar, who still stood behind me.

"Don't worry, Miss Lillyn. They got this."

Right. Yeah. It looks like Dera's team has practiced working with each other. And in addition, I have Balsar to protect me and my shields to-

Oh, feakin' pile of shit. I forgot to activate my shields. Alright. For now, I guess I active those from my two bracelets and my belt. The tunic and skirt will be my reserve. Along with shield potions. And as a last resort, I still have my shieldmaiden bra. But for that, the shit really has to hit the fan.

"Rea, watch it!"

Dera's shout drew my attention back towards the battle. My friend had finished her fight. So had Davan and Rea. But the finishing strike was a spell too strong. Flinging the heavily damaged Automata into an alcove. As it sputtered the last signs of life, the one it had crashed into awoke to life. Stepping out and over its fallen comrade.

"Sorry!"

I can't tell if Dera heard her mage's apology. She and Davan lured the automata out into the open before tag-teaming in taking swipes and lunges at it. As Rea joined in with smaller strikes of her spells, the Automata quickly grumbled to the ground. Beaten and broken.

"Sorry, Rea," Dera said after taking a few deep breaths. "I know you want to help, but the last thing we want is triggering a collapse."

"I know. Sorry."

"Collapse," I ask Balsar behind me.

"If a hardened space is changed too much at once, it can trigger a collapse. Shifting it by force into a weaker state. With each collapse, the ability of a hardened space to regenerate diminishes until it vanishes completely. That would be the end of the hardened space."

"Wouldn't that be a good thing?"

"It would," Balsar agreed. "Except for us. You see, hardened spaces don't like change. If a collapse is triggered then all its residents try to stop it. To limit how much the hardened space collapses. Look around you. All those Automata around you are idle. They all would awake at once and hunt us down. Only elite teams trigger a collapse on purpose. And while the servants' quarters aren't the hardest as hardened spaces go, the sheer volume of available bodies makes a collapse a daunting task. Two groups tried so far to make it happen. Both failed."

"Stop the chit-chat," Dera yells to us. "We've got to move on."

"Wait!" I shout back. "You have a void-trader with you. The Automata you just defeated, I can void them for you. If you want. I'll even do it for free. Not taking a cut. As a bonus."

"Alright," Dera said with a grin. "Now you are talking."

What? Maybe Dera's group is taking higher risks than I thought. It is good to keep them happy.

Alright. With my part done, and my group a few hundred void-favors richer, it is time to move on. Of course, we don't come far. Just around the bend of the large room, another pair of Automatas are active. Both sweep the ground with worn-down brooms. In fact, they didn't even reach the ground anymore. The dust on the floor was only distributed by the footsteps of the automata. Not one swipe of a broom could actually be seen on the ground.

I felt a little guilty standing aside as Dera, Rea, and Davan did their work. Not to mention that the group was one fighter down as Balsar didn't even step one foot away from my side. The big guy looked like he could take on two of those Automata at once.

After voiding the latest pair of broken Automata, we moved on to the stairs. I thought now it would be a straight shot towards the top. Dera had told me we will find Maynard's workshop for everything related to Automata there. But, of course, nothing is as easy in this stupid world. Someone had barricaded the stairs from floor two to three. It looked sturdy too.

"Someone must have put up resistance as the space hardened," Dera explained. "The storage area has three stairways. We have to snake through each part of the staircases not blocked completely. It is the longer way, but overall safer."

The second floor had a lot less space than the ground floor. From the alcoves, it was maybe three meters to the parapets and the plunge below to the ground floor. A lot less space to navigate and fight. I have to trust Dera that she knows what she does.

"Hey. You!" The shout made me look towards one alcove with tools and body parts scattered around it. A man was pointing at us with a severed Automata arm. "You can't be here. This is a restricted area. Go, get them, girls!"

Just as three Automata stepped out of their alcoves, one missing an arm, a fireball exploded in the man's face. Throwing him back as charred flesh and knocked the automata back into their alcoves. Not for long. The servants got back up. As did the man who now resembled a piece of meat left too long on the grill.

"What the hell?"

"That's Clovast," Balsar rumbled from behind me. "One of those poor souls trapped in the hardened space. Pity him, for he has succumbed to the madness."

I won't lie, bile threatened to come up to my mouth. It is pure horror to witness a fourth-degree burn victim stand up and charge at us again. Waving a severed limp as a weapon around.

Dera and the rest of the team already had their hands full with three Automata when Clovast joined the fray. Part of me is split. Maybe I should send Balsar to help them. Maybe then-

Freakin' heck. Clovast just threw that Automata arm at me. I barely ducked in time.

"Damn!" Balsar said moments before pushing me to the side and against the parapet. To my horror, I saw that the arm had knocked over an Automata in their alcove. One that now stirred. As it got up, it bumped one more Automata who also awoke.

Balsar was already on the move while I was still stunned with shock. A quick run and he slammed his tower shield in one Automata. Pushing it back and trapping it in an alcove. Struggling to contain it in, he used his sword to keep the second Automata at bay. Or to run past him. To me.

Fuck! If they do I am toast. How long will my shield last? Better activate one more. Just to be safe.

"Lillyn, duck!"

I barely headed Rea's command when a fireball flew over my head. It slammed into the Automata who Balsar kept at bay with his sword. While it flew apart in pieces, it was temporary relief. As some of the debris impacted with another Automata and woke that one up. Still, it gave Balsar enough time to dedicate his full attention to the Automata he had pinned to the wall with his tower shield. Finishing it off just as the newcomer joined the fray.

A moment later, Davan rushed by me. Falling to his knees, he slid past Balsar. Striking the new Automata's feet and knocking it over. Giving Balsar the opportunity to impale it with his mighty sword.

Damn, we only reached the second floor and I already was a nervous wreck. Cold sweat drenched my clothes. More so than the actual fighters who barely looked winded yet.

"Lillyn, what did you do?" Dera asked before bursting into a fit of laughter.

Turning around, I saw Rea holding back laughter as well. At least all the foes behind them lay defeated. Confused, I looked to Davan and Balsar. Both gazes deftly riveted to my bosom.

"Oh, freakin' heck!" in my panic I activated the wrong shield. My brassiere of the shield maiden was active and did its job. All of it. My breasts had ballooned out to ginormous proportions. "Those are not forty percent. Damn, the bra was supposed to be my last resort."

"I don't mind," Davan remarked. Only to get an elbow into the rips by Balsar.

"Remember," Dera said and drew my attention again. "If you overcharge the shield you overcharge the growths enchantment."

"Just great," I pressed through my teeth. "Go laugh it up, why don't cha?" Surely my bosom was now close to eighty percent larger. Damn, my puppies are heavy too. I wish I could put them on a diet. But I better keep this up. To dismiss one shield just because it was embarrassing might cost me later. With my life no less.

"Actually, it might not be a bad idea," Dera said while dematerializing her armored top. "The upper floors are harder. Time to activate my own shield."

Dera's bosom expanded to an impressive size too. Not as big as mine, mind you. Hers still looked on the natural side. I felt like a cow with mine. And I think I can see stress lines in the fabric of my top where it's close to tearing. Great. Just great.

"Now we are talking," Davan added drily.

I didn't have to look at him to know he'll wear a smirk on his face. But I heard a smack and a yelp from him. Apparently, Balsar was more a gentleman than our rogue. But I couldn't help to notice the jealous look Rea gave her friend. She tried to conceal it, but it was obvious. Rea too wanted big sweater puppies. I doubt me saying they weren't worth the trouble would sway her.

"Alright. Enough starring and joking," Dera said with a strict voice that cut off all nonsense. "Time to move on."

We continued onward. Slowly. it wasn't even the Automata's fault that we progressed at a crawl. It was mine. Those damn breasts were heavy. And my defensive tunic and skirt added their own weight. I have to stop every few dozen steps and catch my breath. Did I mention I hate Besona? Believe me, I do.

At last, we arrived. The workshop of Maynard that old bastard. The others are not much worse for wear. Thanks to the health, mana, and shield potions I crafted on the fly. But I was drenched in sweat. I feel like I have run a marathon. Well, walked one. Same difference.

But the workshop took my breath away. In an entirely different meaning. This was clearly the workplace of a mad scientist. Or a perverted one. From what I knew of Maynard, both were the case. The room was large. Most of the walls were lined with workbenches. Tables were scattered around haphazardly. They all were buried under tons of tools and paper. Schematics and blueprints not just hung from the walls, but also covered the mess around them like tarps. Even the floor had a makeshift carpet of loose paper pages thrown around. One-quarter of the room was free of such. It was taken up by a large machine of unknown purpose. Of course, it drew my curiosity.

"Alright, Lillyn," Dera spoke up. "We are here. As agreed, you get first the pick at anything. What are you looking for?"

"Everything that looks remotely like research or blueprints. I need it all."

"And how will you carry that all out?" Davan asked. "Looks like you already haul around enough."

After a short glare at him, I materialized boxes. That's the advantage of being a void-trader. I can summon as much of a thing I want as long as I have researched it. As for hauling them out-

"I will fill our soul-inventories," I said out loud. Masking my annoyance as best as I could. "Part of the deal I struck with Dera is that each of you plays mule for me. Two of your soul-inventory slots are mine for the haul."

That shouldn't be so bad. While I had only three soul-inventory slots available, Dera assured me the others had more. Apparently, a soul-guide can increase the available ones in exchange for soul-flakes. That currency was as useful as void-favors. Maybe even more so. Considering what you could buy from it. Stats increase, more inventory, and most important of all, a body remodel. Though the last one was very expensive. On top, it was used to bring people back from the dead. Or at least those reduced to soul-crystals.

"Alright," Dera said into the round. "Get packing. Stuff all those papers in the boxes. If there is anything special, bring it to Lillyn. Remember, part of the deal is that she gets first the pick at anything."

It took barely a minute until Balsar cried out: "It is here." Handing a strange device to Dera. She in turn carried it to me. It was a large wooden board covered in runes and familiar designs in silver. Or the oversized version of it. So far, I have it seen only on my heavily enchanted clothes. What stood out were four clamps. Meant to hold something.

"What is that?"

"This is what we call a stasis charger," Dera explained. "Every void-trader should have one. You see, soul-crystals only last three to four rotations before their charge is used up and the soul slips into the final death. But this device can recharge a soul-crystal indefinitely. Even if we hadn't made the deal of the first pick this would have ended up with you. Adventurers gift it to void-traders. Those, in turn, can hold soul-crystals of fallen adventurers safely until the next soul-guide arrives."

"That's powerful. Thanks."

"You have no idea," Rea remarked. Coming over to explain herself more thoroughly. "Have you ever heard of the Belial?"

Can't say I have. After shaking my head, Rea fell into an impromptu dissertation. "On the eastern continent, adventurers explored a cave. Not a hardened space, mind you. What they found was a fault. Inside, thousands of soul-crystals in similar devices to this one. When they revived one soul they learned the history of an ancient race called Belial. They prophesied the end of the world as they knew it. So, they build a shelter that holds all the souls of their entire race. No one knows how many millennia they have waited in their crypt to be revived by races that rose up long after they have left the surface behind."

"If you travel east, you will, without a doubt, stumble onto them," Balsar remarked. "There are too many to be revived by the charity of the soul-guide guild. So those that have been, choose the life of an adventurer to gather soul-flakes. All to revive their long-dead families."

"Thousands are revived by now," Rea said as she took over again. "But they say it is only a small fraction of the souls still sleeping in the crypt as soul-crystals."

"A whole race, huh?" Looking down at the device, it somehow felt heavier than before. A means to save an entire race in a manner of speaking. "The Belial, do they look like us? Like humans?"

"Mostly," Rea said while motioning with her hand that her statement was vaguely true. "Most of their body is similar to ours, but their skin is dark grey and most have white hair. They are on the slender side. At least in most places. in one regard you would fit right in. They are known to have a big-"

Rea exaggeratedly motioned over her own breasts. Got it. Those ancient Belial were well endowed too. What is up with Besona? Big breasts here. Big breasts there. Big breasts everywhere! It is as if the whole planet has a fetish for big breasts. And it wants me to enable its kink.

"So, from what I hear, I should travel east next. There I wouldn't stand out as much."

My comment, as hoped, garnered me a few chuckled. With the stasis charger stowed away in my soul-inventory, we continued to search the workshop. Gradually it got tidied up. One could even see the floor below again. Now and then, they brought me enchanted equipment that they found. It was tempting to claim them. More items and more research beckoned. Still, I was here for a reason: Automata.

If I could elicit their secrets and revive them, I might have a killer product on my hands. Literally. Heck, I might even have the means to build an army. One that could back up Maryn in her quest to overthrow the western empire. I could market them as servants or bodyguards. Robots for everyone. Surely, that would make the void-trader relevant again.

So, as much as it pained me to do so, I declined every enchanted piece of gear. Rather opting for filling my soul-inventory slots, my own or borrowed, with more boxes of research and schematics. Hoping they might boost my void-assisted research to fruition.

While my hired team picked up the last papers around me, I stepped to the large machine. It looked futuristic. Once again reminding me that Besona is not just some fantasy world. They had advanced stuff. I just rarely was around civilization to notice it. I could see robotic appendages and machinery. Even what appeared as computer terminals. It took me only a few seconds to understand what it was.

It was a factory. Miniaturized to the best ability of Maynard. Why research Automata when I could have a scaled-down factory that could build them for me? I need to have that. Still, the piece of equipment was large. I remember Myra once said the amount one could put into a soul-inventory slot was limited by their highest magical stat. I had thirteen in void-magic. That's got to be enough.

Laying my hand on the cool metal of the machine, I started the dematerialization process with my mind. It works! The machine is losing coherence. Being sucked into my soul-inventory. One moment it was there, the next moment a quarter of the room is utterly empty. Only leaving a footprint in the dust.

"Lillyn!" Dera pushed me around. Pinning me to a wall. Her eyes were wide. I saw panic in them. "What the frack did you do?"

"I-"

Dera twirls around. Not even giving me the time of the day to explain myself. "Barricade the way to the storage area. Now!"

The others headed the order while I was still stunned. What the hell is happening? Nearly half the workbenches were piled in front of the door when something crashed into it from the outside. Then more impacts shook the pile-up. Now I saw them. Arms. Legs. Pushing through whatever hole they could find in the barricade. Beyond it, I could make out dozens of Automata trying to get in. An angry mob. Frenzied beyond reasoning.

"I don't understand." Did I say that aloud? Must have, as Dera spun around to me.

"It's a collapse, Lillyn. You triggered a freakin' collapse of the hardened space. I hope you are happy." She stomped to another door. Study, but still closed. As she opened it, I heard screams from behind it. "There is no other way. We have to go through the administration wing. Now, before those Automata break through the barricade and flood us with bodies."

We are going towards the screams of anger? That's nuts! But Dera, Rea, and Davan were already through the door. Balsar gave me a shove towards it just as a workbench was pushed out of the barricade. Noisily clattering to the ground. Right. It wasn't safe here either. Fumbling for a shield potion, I hurried after them. Couldn't hurt to prepare for the worst.

We arrived in a small hallway that branched to more workshops. Smaller and they might have once been more organized. Now they looked in disrepair too. Bodies littered the hallway. Human ones. Blood everywhere. Walking forward as fast as I could, I nearly slipped on one of those puddles. Maybe that is why Dera had taken the storage route. All those trapped humans massacred threatened to upheave my stomach. Now, we had no other choice.

Stairs! I hurry towards them. Downstairs I could hear fighting. Dera and the others fighting to make a path. Just as I step on the floor, a door to my left breaks open. A middle-aged man falls out. Crazed bloodshot eyes fixating on me. Lifting a wrench to carve in my head.

A massive sword cleaved into him. Balsar. Right, he was behind me. Playing bodyguard. His one swing slicing through half the man. Blood and viscera spewing anywhere. Thankfully, none come through to me. My shield caught it. Damn, they are really a lifesaver. Gotta keep them up. One more potion can't hurt. Or two.

"In here," Balsar yelled before shoving me into a small room. Looked like an office. My last glance in the hallway was one of horror. A mass of bodies pushing up the stairs. Mostly human, but also a few Automata. Everyone was retreating, except for Rea, who stood her ground.

Dera and Davan slid inside and threw the door closed. "Now!" Dera yelled.

The world exploded. Literally. I saw the door flying inward. Along with Davan who landed heavily on Dera. They only remained disorientated for a second, then scrambled to get up and out. Balsar heaved me up before I even could stomach what had happened. The hallway outside looked like a bomb had gone off. Which might actually have happened. In a small circle of still pristine hallway was Rea. Around her, the floor, walls, and ceiling was charred beyond recognition. Half of everything was still on fire. Body parts were scattered everywhere. I can't even tell what was human or Automata.

Rea was breathing heavily. Leaning towards the side. Whatever she had cast, it must have drained her beyond measure.

"Go!" Balsar yelled from behind me.

As I stepped into the hallway, Davan was helping Rea. Pulling her arm over his shoulder and keeping her up. Dera took a glance and then looked at me. "Davan and Rea are out. I've got to take the lead. Give me all the shield potions you can give."

I managed to craft a dozen when new arrivals came up the stairs. And down. Balsar suddenly was swarmed as well. Thankfully, no one could get by the giant in the narrow hallway.

Dera intercepted the lone human stumbling towards us at the top of the stairs. Leaving me with two shield potions I hadn't handed to her yet. Well, better drink them now. Surely some of that explosion must have drained mine.

Damn, I feel tired. This was a bad idea. Heaving me around a freakin' hardened space. What have I been thinking? Myra was right. I've lost my marbles. This was nuts. I'm going to die here.

"We are nearly out!" Balsar shouted behind me. "Move!"

"I am trying!" Damn, I feel so heavy. Breathing gets hard. All that smoke is still around and all my garments weigh a ton.

The next flight of stairs down, I saw Dera fight like a berserker. Taking on one human and one Automata at the same time. Davan and Rea a step behind. Only occasionally helping. Rea's spells were faint. The mage still leaning heavily on Davan, who in turn was impaired in his actions.

This floor was obviously a cubicle farm. The irony that Besonians invented the monstrosity before us Earthlings was lost at me right now. All I saw was a small labyrinth we had to cross. I hurried as fast as I could to the others when suddenly I got stuck. Not even moving an inch anymore. Something had caught me from both sides. But there were only cubicles.

"Dera! We got a problem!" Balsar shouted from behind me. I couldn't even turn around to him to look at what the problem was.

Dera turned around as she finished off the last enemy. Downing a shield potion in one swig. Then she saw me and her eyes turned furious. Murder spoke through them. She readied her sword and charged towards me. Surely she wouldn't-

Sparks flew as her sword impacted with my shield. I stumbled back. Suddenly free. But Dera didn't stop. Wailing at me with her sword. I lost my footing. Falling to the floor. Dera placed her foot on me. No, on my shield, and kept hitting it. At last, my shield collapsed and her foot landed on my chest. Her sword arced a last time down. Burying itself inches from my face beside me.

She leaned down until I saw the fury in her eyes up close. "No more shield potions for you. None, unless we tell you to. Got it, Lillyn?"

Damn, my mouth is dry. I try to answer but no words come out. Instead, I give a feeble nod.

Dera raised up. Her feet pushing on my chest, but I doubt she cared. Spinning around and charging towards the next enemy coming up the stairs.

A strong hand is grabbing my collar lifting me. But halfway through my top gives up. With a last big tear, it gives away. Leaving Balsar with tatters in his grasp. When had that happened? Then it dawned on me. My chest was now naked, except for my brassiere of the shieldmaiden. The potions! How many have I drunk? Three? Four? More?

My bosom must have burst through my top. No wonder I got stuck between cubicles. How hadn't I noticed? At least, I get air again. And I felt lighter.

"Lillyn, move!"

Balsar's shout pulled me back from my introspective. Right, we weren't out yet. I couldn't see Dera anymore. Davan and Rea just vanishing down the stairs.

I hastened to catch up and heard Balsar's heavy steps behind me. Shit, he was now my only protection. I could activate the shields of my bracelets, but what if Dera would notice. She already had been on the brink of decapitating me.

More offices. A few cubicles. Dera breathing hard. Davan and Rea standing close. Rushing over, I craft a few shield potions. Offering them to Dera. She takes them, but only after giving me a glare that spoke of pure hatred.

The last steps to our freedom are eventless. No more enemies. At least none moving. Stumbling into the lobby, we find more destroyed Automata.

Then, finally, sunlight. We made it out. I survived. But all around us is destruction. There are piles of Automata around us. As are adventurers. One of them stepped out.

"Dera, my respect. Triggering a collapse. I didn't think you had it in you. Though maybe next time, give a heads-up."

"Shut the fuck up, Gevalt," Dera yelled back. Her gaze roaming over the gathered adventurers who had stood the tide of pouring out Automata. Until it fell on me. "Lillyn!"

Oh, shit. I only managed three steps back before she reached me. grabbing for my collar, which wasn't there anymore, and laying her hand on my neck instead.

"You-" she hissed. But then fell silent. Taking a few shaky breaths. I can see that she tries to calm down. "Our payment," she only said at last.

Right. I lift my hand. Offering sixteen thousand void-favors. She grabs it. Just long enough to finish the transaction.

"I hope this was worth it," she hisses at me. Barely audible to anyone around us. "Dump her stuff," she said aloud. Letting go of me walking to her teammates.

They each dumped their boxes with documents in front of the servant quarters. Leaving me behind as they walked away. Right. The contract was fulfilled. Was it worth it? Risking my life? Theirs? All for a bunch of documents and one piece of machinery. Not to mention that I doubt Dera considered me a friend anymore. I messed up, guys. Big time.

Gradually, most of the Adventurers dissipated. Only a few stayed behind. I am not sure if they stay behind because more Automata could pour out of the servant quarters, or because I was half-naked for the world to see.

For a moment, I looked towards the boxes. Feeling the impulse to leave them behind. No, there's got to be something in there that made all of this worth it. Beaten, I walk towards my Little Mule. More than once. First, to shift my soul inventory to the one of my Little Mule. Then, to get those blasted boxes. Three at a time.

It was on my last haul when I heard my name yelled. Myra collided with me. Pulling me in a hug. I melted into it.

"I am sorry, Myra. You were right. I messed up. This was folly. I-"

"Shush," the blue-haired priestess cut me off. "Everything will be alright. Let's get you inside. Then, you can tell me everything."

Urg, is it morning already? I don't wanna get up. Just five more minutes snuggling with my pillows and-

An arm? Why is an arm draped over me? Ah, right. Myra slept over at my place.

What? No, get your mind out of your gutter. Nothing happened. Yesterday was a disaster, okay? The raid of the Servant Quarters was a nightmare. Worst idea I ever had. I thought I'd die for sure. Let me tell you, as someone who already died once, dying sucks.

Even worse, I think I ruined my friendship with Dera. The adventureress that I hired to play protector and tour guide. Everything went fine until I had to pick up that stupid machine in the workshop. That minimized factory. All hell broke loose. It was like in a zombie flick. Rushing bodies bent on rending our flesh. And then I even got stuck because I had activated my shieldmaiden brassiere and drunken too many shield potions. How embarrassing. I hadn't even noticed. Dera wailing on me with her sword was even scarier than those crazed people and Automata rushing after us.

So, yeah. When we finally stumbled out, I wasn't in the best state of mind. Barely managing to drag back the spoils of the raid. That's when Myra found me. It was a lot, okay? And I needed a shoulder to cry on. Myra was there to provide one. Even late into the evening while I lamented my stupidity. Spreading tears and snot on Myra. Urg, I hope she doesn't mind or has spare clothes. Well, I could craft her some. That's the least I can do for her. I remember it getting late and she had dragged me to bed. Staying by my side until I fell asleep. Guess she did too. So, yeah. Nothing happened aside from Myra being a friend.

Damn, I am a mess too. I need a shower. If I am careful-

Yep, got out under Myra without waking her.

Give me a moment of privacy, will'ya. I will not describe how I shower. It is still a little awkward to talk about the details of my body. I've been a woman now for weeks. Well, rotations. But still, if I am honest, I haven't really gotten used to it.

Be right back.

---

"There you are," Myra said as I exited the bathroom. Lounging in my small dining nook."You look better."

"I feel better. Thanks for yesterday."

Without a word, Myra stood up and walked up to me. Drawing me into a hug. "That's what friends are for."

I won't lie. It felt nice. Any hug by Myra felt nice. But this one more than others. Anyway. Where was I?

"How about you take a shower and I prepare breakfast? That's the least I can do for you."

"Sure," Myra agreed. Walking towards my bathroom. "But no peeking."

I wouldn't. Dear imaginary audience. I am not that kind of guy.

Gal.

Whatever.

---

Damn, is it time for opening my store again? I wish I could take a day off, but technically I already did. I mean, no one is forcing me to open my shop, but a lot of adventurers at Maynard Mansion are depending on my potions. There'll be a longer line today. Because I took a break yesterday.

Well, before I open my ramp and let customers into my Little Mule, I guess I should start some research. But what? Right, the shelves of my Little Mule are full of boxes containing research notes by Maynard on Automatas. Right now, I don't even wanna look at them. They are such a reminder of yesterday.

And then there is the miniaturized factory. The one I hoped would produce Automata for me. How could I be so stupid? I mean picking it up caused a lot of trouble, but there is more. Where the heck did I thought I would put it? Even if I cleared out the shelves and my sales counter, it wouldn't fit into my Little Mule. So stupid. I could kick myself for my stupidity.

Then there was the stasis charger. At least one useful item. It can stop and reverse the decay of soul crystals. Currently, there is one in my protection. Waiting for the soul guide to arrive and being revived. They should arrive any day now, but still, it couldn't hurt to put the adventurer's soul into the stasis charger. It only took a moment to materialize it and place it on my counter. It is shaped perfectly to fit the soul crystal into its clamps. They latch onto the two bronze rings that circle the soul crystal. The stasis charger has four of those clamps. So, I guess I can fit one more soul-crystal there. Maybe after I got rid of this one, I can research an upgrade to the stasis charger. Maybe giving them more capacity or so. It might also sell in moderate amounts.

Still, my research bench is empty.

"What should I research, Becky?"

Yes, the Automata named Becky is still lounging around in the corner of my salesroom. Still immobile and inanimate. I've got to pose her one day. Use her at least as a mannequin. Right now, she didn't even provide me with an answer.

Alright. What do I research? An upgrade to my enchant-up bras? Urg, no. Just another reminder of my failure yesterday. My breasts expanded so much it wasn't funny anymore. What else? Lipstick? It would be nice to provide a new type to Myra as a thank you for being there for me. Alright, lipstick it is. But what do I use to combine it with?

A potion might work for enchantment, but it might not result in a new color. What else do I have? Lingerie or clothing? Better not. That leaves the "assorted goods" the priestesses of the otherworldly church had left with me. Dildos? Nope. Borscht? Might result in a new color. Wait? Did I try that before? Can't remember. What else is there? The mp3 player. Certainly, that won't result in a new color. And for enchantment-

What enchantment would an mp3-player give a lipstick? Maybe it would make the wearer's voice more musical? Or imagine every time you kiss someone with this lipstick a jingle plays. How silly would that be? Alright, I have my research project. Mp3-player and the "Gel-Lipstick Of The Healing Kiss". An absolute abomination of a research project, but you know what? I need a little silliness in my life right now. And I am kind of curious what Besona will come up with such a strange mix. Can't wait.

---

"Rea!"

Wow, I hadn't expected the mage and healer of yesterday's group to show up. To be honest, I figured out Dera and her teammates would avoid me like the plague for a few days. Or rotations.

"Hey, Lillyn."

"What brings you here? Not to blow up my shop, right?"

"Look, I am not mad at you."

"You aren't?"

She isn't? I would. Maybe there is hope salvaging it.

"It wasn't your fault," Rea admits to me. "Normally, starting adventurers are told time and time again to not cause a collapse. We told you once or twice? And in passing. It was a mistake, sure, but one we all had a hand in. Dera knows it too, but she is stubborn and a hothead sometimes. Give her a few days to calm down. She will come around."

"That's good to hear." Phew, has a weight lifted from your chest too? At least the metaphorical ones. My twins are heavy as ever. How could I have not noticed them growing so much in size yesterday? Anyway. Stop spacing out. Thank Rea for being nice. "I really hope she forgives me. And thank you for letting me know."

"Well, I am also here to buy a few things. Somehow, we burned through most of our potions yesterday. Even with you crafting new ones on the fly for us. So, I am here to pick up a few for our group."

"Well, I can certainly help with that. I'll even sell at cost this time. As an apology."

Wait. Why is Rea blushing suddenly and avoiding looking into my eyes?

"Does that count for a certain enchanted bra too? Now that I have the void-favors-"

Right. Guess the mage still has her priorities straight. What is it with Besonian's and their obsession with having big chests? Not to mention that Besonia itself appears to lean in that direction. Well, more void-favors for me. Well, not this time.

"For you, this time I make an exception."

---

Alright. Time to look into the oven and see what Besonia spat into my face this time. Granted, the combination of mp3-player and lipstick might have provoked the ire of Besona on me.

Wait, it worked? I have a new lipstick. Here, take a look.

> Gel-Lipstick Of Enhanced Whistling <
> This lipstick boosts not only strange ingredients like Zitoraxs slime. It's wax and the ornate container is enchanted. Making it a new kind of fashion statement for adventurers. <
> Color: Cream <
> Enchanted: Enhanced Whistling <
> Passive ability: Shifts and enhances whistling into a higher frequency. This might stun, confuse, or anger animals and monsters who can hear the whistle. While whistling, the applied lipstick is used up progressively.<
> Enchanted: Regenerative Container <
> Passive ability: Restores 2% of the lipstick wax each day up to the original amount. Prevents drying out. <
> 218 void-favors <

That's not what I expected. But it makes sense in a way. Not sure how useful this one will be, but it beats a lipstick that plays a jingle with each kiss. Well, to be honest, I would have liked to witness that one. Maybe I should give this combination another try. So long until Besona is granting me my silly wish.

Wait a moment. I got another blueprint. What's an Enchantment Storage Device?

> Enchantment Storage Device <
> This device made from rare and exotic metals can supplement a void-traders research bench. Placed in a slot, it can either copy enchantments to its own storage or copy one from its storage onto another item on the research bench. <
> Active ability: Switch mode between reading or writing.<
> Active ability: Selection of stored enchantment.<
> Active ability: This device can be charged with void-favors up to 1000.<
> Passive ability: If the device is in reading mode and is charged with 1000 void-favors, it reads a random enchantment stored on another object on a research bench and stores a copy within. The device can store up to 50 enchantments. <
> Passive ability: If the device is in writing mode it adds the selected enchantment to the learned blueprint of an object on the research bench. This process may fail if the object is incompatible with the enchantment or if it exceeds the limit of possible enchantments of the object. It may boost a placed enchantment if it is already present. <
> 2531 void-favors <

Holy shit. This is huge. If I read this right, I can transfer enchantments! I could even have one device store all my enchantments and hand it over to someone else. I think that's it, guys. The break I have been hoping for. Well, Iren actually. She has hoped for a way that void-traders could be competitive again against traditional crafting methods.

Remember Pasus? He spent a rotation or more to learn even one of the higher grade spellbooks his family is known for. I think this could help him learn faster. Imprint the individual enchantments of a spellbook on the device. Then take a new book and add step by step the enchantments needed. It might be quicker and you get all the steps in between as products too. Granted, transferring an enchantment to the device isn't cheap. One thousand void-favors. That hurts. But think about it. I could, for example, transfer the growth enchantment onto the device. Instead of playing random research roulette by putting an enchanted bra and a normal one on the research bench, I can transfer it straight away. No risk of random outcomes. And if it really boosts enchantments already on an object-

This is huge, guys. Real huge. I've got to experiment with that. Talk to you tomorrow. I think I'll be busy for a while.

I don't wanna get up! How late is it? It's still dark out there. Who is calling me? Damn, it must be important, or else they'd given up by now. Better see who it is who calls me on that hologram thingy.

Iren and Essie? Of course, they look impeccable. Even this early in the day. Iren has thrown on some dress in shades of red fading to pink, and Essie even has her hair done in elaborate braids and is wearing a nice green tunic. Meanwhile, my hair looks like a bird's nest and I still only wear a copy of my tunic and skirt as PJs. Life is unfair.

"What's up? Something important?"

"You are seriously asking us that?" Uh, oh. Someone is in a bad mood. Iren looks angry. "Don't pretend you are clueless."

But I am. At least Essie looks like might believe me.

"Rumor is you went into a hardened space at Maynard Mansion," Essie says for my benefit. "Don't tell me it is true."

"Oh, yeah. That's why you are calling? I am fine." Time for a nonchalant shrug and calm then down. I wanna go back to bed. "Nothing too bad happened."

Ups, I think I said something wrong. Iren looks pissed. "You call a collapse nothing? And what were you doing in there anyway? A hardened space is no place for a void-trader."

"Look, I was already chewed out plenty." I mean who are they to lecture me? "It was necessary for my research. I thought you'd understand. You told me we void-traders need an edge to stay relevant."

"Being dead won't accomplish anything. I never told you to risk your life. Nothing is worth risking that. Do you understand?"

Damn, Iren looks scary. But she isn't my mother. I can take care of myself. Or at least hire someone to take care of me in areas I don't have experience.

"Look, I know it was a mistake. In hindsight, I know better. Believe me, no words can top the experience I had. And quite a few people already had words for me. For what it's worth, I don't plan on ever going back into a hardened space again." I mean, yeah. It was a mistake. At least until I make anything from the haul worth something. "But what I do is still up to me. If I deem a risk acceptable then it is my decision. Not yours."

"Everyone is accountable!" Damn, Iren's shout had to be heard even in the next Little Mule. "You are part of the void-trader guild. Or did you forget that? There are rules. And they are there to protect you. If I have to call you in the middle of the night or come over and whoop your butt personally, believe me, I will."

"Look, it is-"

"Not another word," Iren cuts me off. "Even if you weren't part of the guild. Did you ever think about how your friends might react if you died in a hardened space? There would have been a good chance your soul-crystal might be lost. Especially in a collapse. Now I need to prepare. Explain to both, my fellow guild leaders and the adventurer's guild associate, why a void-trader was stupid enough to risk her life."

And just like that, she is gone. Ended her projection. Leaving me alone with Essie. Way to go to cut off any discussion. Not that I wanted to extend my chewing out anymore. I said I am sorry, didn't I? Way to go off on a tangent.

"How did she even find out?"

"My aunt," Essie volunteers.

Damn, right. Awyn. She is a void-trader at Maynard Mansion too. She sells weapons.

"So, Awyn told you and you snitched to-"

"Oh, get off your high Bandrasi. Do you really think Awyn doesn't have the means to contact Iren directly? We are a guild, Lillyn. And yes, if Awyn would have told me first, I would have snitched. Because, believe it or not, we are friends. And friends look out for each other. Especially if someone is chasing their own death."

"So, that's why you are angry? Because I am just a friend?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know what I mean." I roll my eyes. Just to rub it more in. "You think I haven't heard the rumors yet? Admit it, you just want me as a bed-bunny for your harem."

"Oh, sometimes you are insufferable, Lillyn!" Essie is storming up to me. Damn, she looks even angrier than Iren does. Did I hit a nerve? Good. "If I wasn't a projection right now I would slap the stupid out of you. No, I don't want you as a bed-bunny. Whatever a bunny is, I don't even know. And don't believe any rumor you hear. Yes, when I was young and discovered I was into women my pubescent self vowed to build a big and mighty harem. Guess what, people grow up from their childish notions. Sure, I held onto the dream. For as long as nothing better comes along, why not? And I thought, Lillyn, something better had come along. Of course, only you would accuse me of just thinking with my hormones."

"I am not trying to build a harem." Sex, in general, is the furthest from my mind right now. The very notion is ridiculous.

"No. Not poor little Lillyn. Who is only your friend as long as nothing better comes around," Essie shots back. "We used to talk all the time, but then Pasus came along. And you followed him around the courtyard like a lost Hounshack-puppy. What happened to him I wonder? Maybe you have him replaced too? Someone with blue hair and instead of walks around the courtyard, you snuggle up with her in your Little Mule."

"I am not having sex with her!"

"That's not what I am saying, Lillyn. I accuse you of ditching your friends as soon as someone shiny and new comes along."

"I think you better leave now," I press through gritted teeth.

"Glady."

Finally, I am alone. Essie and her judginess is gone. Can you believe her? I mean, Iren's anger I kind of get. I was acting stupid, alright. But I am not ditching friends just because someone new is there. That's insane.

Just because we don't talk to each other every day anymore doesn't mean I abandoned her. Okay. Alright. Maybe it has been a few days since we talked. And Pasus is probably busy. That's why he hasn't called.

Wait, I did give him my Little Mule ID, right? Or was it the other way around? Maybe he can't call me because-

Oh, fudge. I hate to admit it, but I think Essie might be right.

I mean, not completely. It is not like I am ignoring people on purpose. Just a lot of things happened really fast. You know how confusing my life is right now. I tell you everything. Well, nearly everything.

Shit, I guess I have to apologize to them. But not now. I'll probably end up with my foot in my mouth again and say something even worse.

Great, Lillyn. Just great. A real nice friend I make.

Well, all this wouldn't have happened if they'd called me at a better time. Seriously. It's in the middle of the night. No wonder I am not on my best behavior. It's their own fault, I am telling you.

I am going back to bed.

---

It's only noon and I already wanna close up shop and crawl back to bed. But I can't. Not before I apologize. To Iren and Essie. Even to Pasus. He'll probably wonder why I haven't even called once.

But not yet. Believe it or not, I still got a shop to run. People are waiting. In fact, the next person stepping up is- Myra?

"You are a little early for hanging out with me at my lunch break," I say with a small grin on my lips. What? I don't know why, but even just seeing her boosts my spirit.

"That's because I am here on official business, Lillyn."

"Uh, oh. What does the head-priestess want this time from me?"

"Nothing bad," Myra says with a chuckle. "Maryn is heading into the cellar of the mansion next. Her group is running low on potions, so here I am. Buying the necessary supplies. You alright? From afar you looked a bit gloomy, but I might have imagined it."

"No. That fits." I give her a deep sigh. A little bit on the theatrical side. "I had a fight with a friend and my guild superior. Both had been furious. They didn't like my little stunt of going into the servant quarters."

"They have a point. I warned you before you even stepped a foot into it."

"Not you too, Brutus!" I say while throwing my hands up.

"You are no emperor, Lillyn. Even though your bosom looks mighty majestic to me." Myra must have seen my confused look because she continues with an explanation. "Yes, I know about Caesar and the Roman Empire. You know, sometimes history books from Earth make it over. If you think that's betrayal then you don't know about grand Partifay Chocola of the world Parlinee. His closest advisors turned on him with their teeth. Ate him up in one go."

"You are kidding, right?"

Myra is swaying from side to side. Holding her arms behind her back and giving me a mischievous smile. "Maybe."

"Alright. You got me there," I admit. I mean that can't be right. Right? "Well, you can tell me later about it. We better get down to business or else more rumors will spread."

"Rumors?"

Ah, shit. I walked right into that. Why do I have such a big mouth? Today it lands me in all kinds of trouble.

"There are a lot of witnesses around here. Some noticed you spent the other night in my Little Mule."

Myra let out a loud laugh that carries at least as far as the waiting line. "Is that what they say?"

"You don't have to make it sound so ridiculous."

"Lillyn." Myra is leaning down on the counter to grab my hands. Bringing herself close to me so she can look me straight into the eyes. "I admit, I have feelings for you. But I also know you are new to this. Not just Besona. You only have been in this body - and gender - for a short time. I know that. I would like for us to become closer in the future. But only when you are ready. I can wait. Just give me a sign when you are ready."

A sign? Damn. Why is my heart beating so fast? Her lips are so close. She is wearing the Papush lipstick I gifted her. I should kiss her, right? She always makes me feel good. Just by being around. I can't let her slip away. Fade away like Essie or Pasus. I've got to make a move now before she slips my grasp.

"Until then, how about some potions?"

Damn, I just had made up my mind when she leaned back. Now the moment is gone. Sometimes I can be so stupid. But maybe this time it is better. Am I ready for her? I know my heart beats faster with her in the same room, but she has a point. There are still aspects of being a woman I haven't gotten used to. To be honest, if someone offered me a way back to being a man I'd probably take it in a heartbeat. Well, there are ways on Besona, but not something affordable for me. Not any time soon. I don't even know if Myra would go for it. Does it in the end come down to staying with Myra and a woman or regaining my manhood? Shit. Maybe it is better if we keep it uncomplicated for now.

"Yeah, potions. What do you need?"

---

"-and that's why I am truly sorry for my words. I know I was in the wrong and I promise to do better."

Of course, my apology falls on deaf ears.

"Thanks for listening, Becky, but on the feedback and advice department, you are still lacking."

Of course, the Automata I named Becky doesn't answer. Probably because I still haven't figured out a way to repair her or any other Automata. The core is still missing. Without that, she is just a mannequin. Very lifelike, but still motionless.

I had the whole day a mannequin torso on the research bench and one of the boxes containing Maynard's research notes. Nothing. Well, no core. I keep getting upgraded versions of the torso. Not by much, but the latest model of the Automata chest has twenty percent more durability. You know, for when a visitor stares too hard at my mannequin.

So much for an army of Automata at my disposal. Could you imagine it? I'd be swimming in void-favors. Just send a bunch of Automata into a hardened space for me. They come back with loot and I get rich.

"Do you have at least advise on how to get you moving, Becky?"

No, of course not. Can't even tell if Becky counts as company right now. Myra appears to be busy. Normally I'd call Essie right about now. But I don't think I am ready yet with that apology. I know I owe her one, but I think the wording needs a little more work. Maybe more groveling too.

So, that leaves me alone for the evening. Only me, Becky, and the lone soul crystal of an adventurer. Stuck on that charger thingy. The only piece worth anything from my raid into the servants' quarters. If I can quantify it, maybe I'll make a profit after all. Got to research it once I unloaded the soul crystal when the soul-guide arrives. Maybe I even can research upgrades? Make it more portable or something like that. Well, knowing Besona, the clamps holding the soul-crystal probably turn into boobs.

"Hey Becky, how about you play pillow for a-"

Holy shit! What if I combine a soul crystal with an Automata? Yes, I tried before. But that was before I had the stasis charger. Maybe that is the missing link. It wouldn't give me an army, but at least it would get Becky working. I've got to try.

"Sorry, soul, I need the charger for a little experiment. You'll get it back soon. Promise."

Alright. Automata torso on the research bench. Stasis charger too. Wish me luck, people. Research breakthrough here we come. And Besona, don't fuck this up for me!

---

---

Hey readers,

Cassy here. I know, I haven't talked much lately.
And geez there was a big hiatus.
Don't worry. This part is only a day late. Not three months. No new hiatus in sight.

Have you noticed it? Lillyn is zooming in on Myra.
But maybe she needs a bit of help keeping her interested.
You know what they say.
The way to a woman's heart is through her ...
Stomach? Don't be ridiculous.

Her lips of course!
Maybe you want to help her there a little.
I've got a few fun lipstick ideas Lillyn can research, but how about a little competition?
Post your idea for an enchanted lipstick down below and how Lillyn might research it. Keep in mind, Lillyn also has a device that might transfer enchantments she already has researched.

I am curious if you can do worse than me.
Or better.

Until next time.
Hugs and kisses,
Cassy

"I am doing the right thing. Right?"

Of course, no one answers my question. Well, I am alone, after all. Nearly. Becky is there. But, of course, she is silent. Still missing a core. And there comes the other person into play. Well, only technically do they count as a person. Right now, he or she is only a soul-crystal I am holding in my hand.

"It is an opportunity. The ability to collect the needed soul-flakes for revival before the soul-guide needs them."

Who am I trying to convince? The soul-crystal who can't hear or talk? Or myself? I don't even know what gender the person is whose soul-crystal I am holding. Were they male or female? Because I can only offer them a female body. As far as I know, Maynard never even built male automata. That pervert. So, there is a fifty-fifty chance I might gender-bend whoever it is. And believe me, waking up in a body and gender not your own can be very uncomfortable. I should know. As you know, I have too much hands-on experience on the subject.

Still, I need to know if it works. The research of combining a soul-crystal charger and an automata chest was a success. At least that's what the description sounds like. Even installed on Becky, the torso looks ready. Instead of the small round opening where an Automata core should go, a large cavity is folded open. Looks a little bit like a chest-buster from Aliens escaped. You know. The movies with- Nevermind. The cavity should be large enough to accommodate a soul-crystal, but will the rest work?

There is more to it than just moving the Automata body. Will they remember who they are without a proper revival by a soul-guide? If they do, how angry will they be with me? Still, I have to do it. Else the trip to the servant quarters of the mansion would have been for nothing. Not to mention that I pissed off a lot of people by going in there. I still need to apologize to Iren and Essie. Not to mention that Dera is still mad at me.

"Okay. Here we go, Lillyn. Nice and easy. If they don't like it, you can still pull the crystal and hand it over to the soul-guide."

There weren't exactly clamps inside the cavity of the Automata. Like the soul-crystal charger has. Instead, it looks like a perfect mold for it. Not just for the hexagonal crystal, but for the two brass rings that circle it too. As soon as I place it in the chest it starts to close. Folding back up automatically and hiding the crystal. The seams of the cover vanished as soon as the panel closed up. How the hell am I supposed to get it out again?

Well, here goes nothing. Becky is stirring. Time to find out how badly I messed up. Hopefully she-

"Finally! Took you long enough. If I had heard one more monologue of yours. I swear I would have preferred the final death."

Okay. Color me stunned. That's a saying, right? Anyway, Becky is up and moving. Success. Well, at least she isn't jumping at my throat. That counts as one, right? Wait, what was that about-

"You heard my monologues?"

"You talk a lot. Yes, Lillyn I heard you talking to yourself. A lot. I guess no one told you that soul-crystals could see and hear?"

"They do?"

Fricking blupple-pulp on a stick. She heard everything. Well, everything in the showroom. Damn, now I am glad I haven't run around naked in here.

"Yes. That's why most traders store soul-crystals in a box. Let me tell you that's never fun. Especially on the outer fringes of settled space where soul-guides come only every half a dozen rotations. At least here, I had some entertainment."

Great. Lillyn the soap opera. Why did no one tell me?

"Glad to be of service. I am just relieved you aren't furious with me, Bec- Uhm, what do I call you?"

"We actually met a few times. Kind of ironic that I ended up in one of those automata." Not helpful dude. Come to the point. "You probably have forgotten my name. It is Becky."

"Ha, funny."

"I didn't mean to say that. I meant to say I am Becky."

Ha. I think the Automata's body is screwing with her. I named it Becky and now she is. You have no idea how glad I am. Well, I don't want 'Becky' to suffer, but damn am I glad that for once, Besona isn't messing with me.

"It appears naming the body overrides your own name in a way."

"Yeah, I figured as much." Becky looks contemplative at me for a moment. Whatever she thought of, she must have come to a conclusion. "Listen. I am the old geezer no one likes. The adventurer that should have retired years ago. I sold you those near undamaged automata bodies."

"Nadare!"

"Yes. That's me. I was Nadare. Wait, now I can say I am Becky? Nope. The present tense is still out. Looks like I can only refer to myself as Nadare in the past tense."

"Shit!" My fear came true. "Listen, dude. Sorry for genderbending you. I didn't know you were male and- Are you listening to me? Where are you staring at?"

Becky looked at me again. Or is it Nadare? This is a confusing situation.

"My stats screen. It is different from usual. Right. The genderbending. Listen, at first I was upset about the prospect. But I had a few bells time to come to terms with it. And you did make a few good points in your endless monologues. And what the heck, I walked in my old body for nearly five decades. Time for a change. And I must admit this body - while strange - feels nice."

Dude! Why are you grabbing your breasts? That's got to be a clique. Well, I did too. But I had a good reason. Mine are huge. And it wasn't appreciative.

"Are you really okay with this? I know I didn't-"

Oh, shit. Said too much. Put that car in reverse. Are there memory-erasing potions?

"You are an Automata too?" Now I am even more under scrutiny by Becky. Great. She is studying me again. "I don't see ball joints."

"I am not." Think Lillyn, think. How do I get out of this mess? Potions! "You see, I tested an experimental potion for money. It messed me up really well. Even my stats are all out of wack. Now only my void-magic is good and I came here to start over. You know. To build a new identity."

"I guess the potion's main ingredient must have been Honeyfirn," Becky muses out loud. Well, knowing that ingredient by reputation, the guess isn't half bad. "That's why I always tell the adventurers I take under my wing to never drink potions with an iffy description or unknown effect listed."

If so, I wouldn't be able to use half the stuff I researched. Wait, even knowing what it does I can't use half the stuff I got for one reason or another. I blame Besona. Really, I do.

"Yeah, well, that potion was a one-way street. And now here I am. At least you should be able to return to normal. Once you have the soul-flakes to revive yourself. Or you could go the normal way."

Hmm? Did I ever tell you how soul-guides operate in regards to revivals? Both, Pasus and Myra, had told me. You see it takes about five thousand soul-flakes to revive someone. Not cheap. I know. And when someone dies they lose all soul-flakes on them. Which makes it even harder for the people who just found themselves reduced to a soul-crystal.

So, either you have a good friend who fronts you the soul-flakes, or the soul-guide revives you on credit. With a ten percent mark-up. So, you have to pay back five thousand five hundred. And you have to pay them back. Because soul-guides aren't a charity either. If you die while being in debt, they won't front you for another loan. They rather let you die a true death. Yeah, cold, I know.

"You know what?" Becky asks me. "I think I'll stay awhile like this. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Provided you'll allow me."

I shrug. What is there to do, really? I mean it is perfect really if she volunteers. Or he?

"You are already in the Automata. I don't even know how to get you out of it."

Becky is pointing to her stats screen. Which is invisible. A kind of useless gesture that- Wait a minute. It appeared. We can show each other's screens? Now I am curious what other people's stats screens look like. I wonder if Myra will show me hers. Or is that some kind of private thing? Changing it might be very intimate. Show me yours and I show you mine.

No. Hold on a minute. I knew stat screens could be shared. Now I remember. Iren showed me how you can make a tradeable holographic card out of it. Then why can I see Becky's screen without such a card?

"Apparently-" Becky's words got me out of my musing. "This body is still owned by you. You can't see my stats screen right now, but-"

"I can." Oh boy, I can. And yes, right at the top - below the name - there was a field for the owner, and my name was listed.

"You can?"

For the first time today, Becky looked truly shocked. Time to defuse it.

"Well, I don't think I see your real stats screen. Yes, I still own the Automata body. I can see that now. But I think automata have their own stat screen. That's what I am seeing right now. Along with some options and an empty soul inventory."

"But my inventory isn't empty. Ah, I see. Automata have their own ones. Mine is inaccessible to you. But I guess you could use the one from my new body freely."

A few balls of material appear in front of Becky. Making that swirling dance that results in garments. I think it is the first time seeing someone getting dressed with it. And no, Dera donning my boots or enchanty bra doesn't count. I mean going the full nine yards. One moment Becky is naked. The next I see her decked out in leather. Some kind of armor with added metal plates on certain areas. Heavy boots, leather leggings, and armor for the shin made out of iron. I know they have a special name, but it beats me what it is right now. Further up is a belt that holds the sheath for a curved sword and pouches for potions. Rounding the outfit off are leather and metal bracers.

Holy damn. One moment I saw a naked model. Next, a badass stands there. Decked out to kick some butt. I mean Nadare looked like a warrior, but somehow Becky is more imposing. It is hard to imagine that he lost in a fight.

"That's better. Without armor, I felt naked."

Is she serious? "You were naked." Yes, I had to point that out. Even if it was obvious.

"Not that kind of naked. But, yes, that too. I don't do well in civilian clothes either."

No, her new equipment definitely was made for a hard lifestyle. Oh, should I take a peek? I probably can view what Becky is wearing. Yes, I can. Sweet. Must be because I am still her owner. Not in the slavery kind of way. Let me rephrase. The owner of her body.

Alright. Alright. That doesn't sound much better. It makes me uncomfortable too, you know. Let's say it - the body - is a rental I give Becky for some time. Yeah. That's much better. I am helping her out really. It's like charity. I am the good guy here.

"So, what now, Nadare?" I ask. "Back into the mansion? I bet you can collect the soul flakes in no time. I get my Automata back and you get your body. Gender too. And we can forget this ever happened."

"No way." Great. Now Nadare is doing some- Yoga? Stretching the automata's limbs. Maybe testing the range of motion? "Every adventurer out there would see me as an enemy. And I don't think you are ready yet to reveal your latest invention. No, people need to see me for a while. Get comfortable with me."

"What do you have in mind, Nada-"

"Call me Becky"

Huh? Why? Surely he is more comfortable with his own name. Maybe it has something to do with the setting? Naming the body made "Becky" address herself with this name. Or his name. Damn, this gets confusing. Maybe it messes with his mind in other ways too?

"Listen. Maybe I can change the setting to Nadare? Then-"

"Then I'd have a male name for a female body. And I like Becky as a name. It's strange but short and decisive. Never heard it before though. Is it from the eastern islands?"

"No?" Crap! He's onto me. Think, Lillyn. Think! "It's made up. Completely invented. Just some letters strung together."

"I see. Still, not bad. And as for blending in-" Becky straightened up. What? Nadare. Becky. If she wants to be called Becky, then Becky it is. And she is right. Female body and female name. Gotta treat her that way. Oh boy. Girl. Whatever. Where was I? Right. So, Becky is straightening up. Kind posing in a powerful way. Crossed arms and such and feet planted firmly on the ground. "I am Becky. Bodyguard of the trader Lillyn."

"Bodyguard?" Do I need a bodyguard? Well, I kinda do. Didn't Pasus mention something about abducted traders? Having a bodyguard would reduce the chance that I would disappear from one day to the next. Not to mention that one incident with the church. They kinda kidnapped me too.

"Think about it." I have. "As your bodyguard, people can get used to me. To see an Automata that isn't hostile. Maybe in a few days, they won't be shocked when I dungeon dive. I could say I was sent on an errand by you."

Huh. Guess Becky's and my reasoning are a little different. Still, it could work out for me. I get a bodyguard and maybe a test subject for my research. Not to mention that I can see how the Automata body works out. Not to mention bragging rights. If Dera sees Becky maybe she'll be more open to forgiving me.

And Becky? Well, I am not going to repeat all the advantages. Again. Hmm. Is it just me or is Becky more chatty than Nadare? Well, I can get to the bottom of that in the next few days.

"Alright. Deal. You can stay for- What the hell are you doing?"

"Jumping."

"I can see that. Why?"

"Testing this body's abilities. Pretty good, but there is a slight problem. I may not have much up top, but-" Yeah. Few have. In fact, only one. "But a brassiere might be in order. Do you sell some?"

Oh! She is clueless. Finally, a customer who isn't into my secret selection. Hmm. I could sell her something normal. Or I could have some fun.

Becky? Nah. Should have called her guinea pig.

Okay. I'll be busy for a while.

Choo!

Talk to ya later.

---

Finally time for my lunch break. Not sure if Becky even needs to eat. Or can. But she declined to join me. But before I can eat, it is time to check on my research. I thought going for another lipstick would be best. Not much can go wrong there and each one is a solid plus in my relationship with Myra.

So, I decided to get that enchantment storage device a go. See if it works as advertised. For my first try, I selected the growth enchantment. I mean, that should be able to plump up the lips, right? No need for injections. Just a little. Hopefully not full duck lips. That would be bad. Just a little boost. I imagine it could sell well with the ladies.

Alright.

Let's see what Besona throws at me this time.

Name: Transferring Lipstick of Minor Honeyfirn
Description: This dark teal lipstick helps the wearer to bestow a special gift to friends. Tastes like Honeyfirn.
Enchantment passive: Charging
Builds up a charge when worn on the lips. With an accumulation rate of 15 each bell to a maximum of 150.
Enchantment active: Transference
Kissing someone with breasts transfers the applied lipstick onto the receiver as a temporary tattoo.
Enchantment passive: Minor Honeyfirn
If the lipstick is worn anywhere besides the lips, it will use up its charge to fuel permanent growths of breasts. The result is one percent growths times the accumulated charge.

Ha! This is perfect! The ultimate weapon. Now I can bestow large breasts to everyone. They will find out what a huge pain in the ass they are. Or back. It might take a while for the charge to build up and repeated kisses to get them on my level, but mark my words, you all will regret messing with me.

Muhahaha.

I wonder if Myra would like bigger breasts. Hmm. Who else could I target? Iren? Essie? Oh, Essie got it coming. This will be perfect for revenge. This will be my secret weapon. Well, sort of. Knowing Besona - that world obsessed with large breasts - everyone will want to get lipstick like that. Imagine what this world will look like in ten years. Or twenty.

Just the-

Oh, fuck!

Someone could kiss me! I'd grow even bigger. And it would be permanent.

No way. Not on my watch. This lipstick can never get out. It is too powerful.

You know what?

What lipstick? Research failed. Got no new blueprint. Nothing to see here. All good. Over and out, or whatever.

---

This was an interesting day. A little "disappointing" in the research department. Aside from Becky coming alive nothing new. No lipstick. Don't know what you are talking about. Moving on.

Myra should be here soon. I'll be curious how she will react to Becky. The looks she got from adventurers buying from me were priceless. When I opened my shop today, she sat on the counter. Like a posed mannequin or so. Displaying her wicked armor and curved sword. A little false advertisement as the first customer asked if I now also sell armor and weapons.

Before I could answer, Becky stood up. "No, I am just her bodyguard."

You should have seen it. The dude stumbled back and then fell. Rolled down my Little Mule's ramp like a log. Then had trouble drawing his sword. A few others in the line leading to my shop drew their weapons more successfully. Their confusion and fear had been written on their faces. It was delicious to see.

Yes. Yes. I stepped in before anyone could react in a dumb way. Cleared up the misunderstanding. Mostly. I told everyone I had successfully researched Automata. The part that it needed a soul crystal to work? I conveniently forgot. That's a topic for later. Let's get them used to Becky first. An Automata among their midst is new enough for now. And who knows if Becky wants the connection between her and her old self to be known. I mean, at some point she'll return to being Nadare.

"I'll take this corner if you don't mind."

The question by Becky caught me off guard. Right. I haven't thought about where she would sleep. Do Automata sleep?

"I could offer you the eating nook in my living room."

"This is fine."

Probably is. The nook is rather cramped. Fine for eating, but not for much else. I wouldn't sleep there either. My back would probably kill me the next day.

"Sure. Go ahead," I say as I raise the ramp for the day. "I'll be going soon. Just a little walk with a friend around the courtyard."

"Will you be calling Essie and Iren before or after? Something about you going to the servant's quarters? Not a good idea for a void trader by the way."

Shit. How does Becky know about that? She must have overheard me when she still had been just a soul crystal. Someone really could have warned me.

"So, Becky, how much did you hear?"

"Well, you talk an awful lot when you think you are alone. Like, a lot. And all I could do was listen."

"Great-"

Was that the doorbell? Sounds like Myra is here. Saved by the bell indeed. Later I have to find out just how much Becky knows. Did I let something slip about Earth? I hope not. Better be careful what I say in the next few days.

Well, that is stuff to ponder for later.

"Hey, Myra. You'll never guess what- Maryn? What are you doing here?"

Not only was Maryn - chosen hero of Earth and Besona - here, but her whole entourage. But no Myra. Strange.

"Well, dear sister, I thought we should catch up."

Apparently, my confusion is evident. No, not that Maryn is calling me sister. After all, it was my idea to say we both are related. And in a way, we are. I would say we are bosom buddies. More for the joke of having the same enormous breasts than having an actual friendship. But to be honest, I hardly know her.

Before I can even react, Maryn steps forward. "Just us two. For old times sake."

"Sure?" I mean, W T F, but alright. "Let's go in."

"Mam." One of the entourage is stepping forward. Shit. It's the same creep who abducted me when the head priestess wanted to speak. "Perhaps outside is better? Protecting you inside is-"

"The inside is secure," a new voice added. Becky. I completely forgot about her, but now she is pushing past me. Just the sight makes all of Maryn's guards tense up. If Becky noticed then I couldn't tell. She has a poker face like nothing I've seen before. Better not play against her. Does Besona even have poker? Probably not. Maybe something similar.

"That's my bodyguard, Becky," I quickly say. You know. Before blood is shed. "She is a- Uhh. An Automata I managed to reconstruct."

"See? All safe," Maryn exclaims and draws everyone's gaze to her. "We'll just go in and have a little chat. You and 'Becky' can keep a lookout. Surely you don't think my sister would do me harm?"

Before dofus could reply, Maryn is on the move. Or rather, moving me. Ushering us into my own home. As the door closes behind us, I hear a big sigh from my 'sister'.

"Finally. You don't know how it is. They follow me everywhere."

"Yeah. I bet that sucks."

I mean what else am I supposed to say?

"Well, I didn't come here to bitch. Well, maybe a little. Can we sit down somewhere?"

"Sure. Up the stairs." Once we both managed to squeeze ourselves into the small seating area I couldn't wait much longer. "So, what brings you here? I mean, not that I wanna throw you out, but we ain't really sisters. Or friends."

Yeah. We couldn't be more different either. I mean we had similarities in our faces and we both had a mighty bosom. But there they ended. I was sitting here in a light tunic and skirt. Maryn meanwhile rocks leather pants and some kind of layered leather armor. Other pieces too, like vambraces and shin guards. Not to mention her giant sword. She had to unstrap her sheath for it to even sit down.

"I need someone to talk-"

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit! Girl talk? I am not ready for girl talk. I've been a woman for a little more than a few weeks. Or rotations as the Besonians call it. Did I tell Maryn that I had been a man before? I can't remember! What might she want to talk about? Fashion? I suck at fashion. Look, I might appear more stylish than her right now. But that's by random chance. And surely she isn't always rocking the warrior style. Not to mention that she is from Earth. Doubt she wore armor there.

What else? Boys? I hope not. I don't know the first thing about boys. Well, from the outside perspective. I mean I had been one for a long time. I doubt that counts as something I can use to give relationship advice.

"You are from Earth too," Maryn continued. Ignoring my whole dilemma. Wait! This is not about fashion or boys?

"Yeah-"

"Do you sometimes feel like you don't really fit in?"

"Sometimes?" Was that question for real? "Constantly! Everything is unfamiliar and everyone assumes we know stuff that is just foreign. And they either explain little or explain as if you are little. Like pre-school or so."

"Then you know." What is that expression on Maryn's face? Some kind of weird mix between despair and relief. "Everything is new and foreign. And most of the time that is fine and I am excited. I mean how cool is it to be in another world and in your dream body, right?"

Dream body? Speak for yourself.

"But other times-" Now, Maryn just looks plain sad. "A few days ago I, honest to god, cried when a priestess gifted me some apples. Real apples. From Earth. I didn't even realize I missed them until I held one. I don't even know where she got them from."

"From me." Time to show off a little. Pulling one from the void is more than easy now for me. Nearly a reflex. Tossing it to her I got big doe eyes. Hell yeah. I rock, sister. Don't cha know? "Well, actually, Myra summoned them. That is the priestess. We are kind of an- Friends. We are friends. Anyway, she summoned them and I kind of duplicated them. So, you're welcome."

"How does that work?" Maryn asked. After biting into the apple. Has no one taught her to not speak while chewing?

"I am a void trader. You know how it is. The void gives and the void takes away. Actually, the other way around. First, the void takes and then you can get stuff in return."

"Yeah. They told me about void traders. Kinda cool." You betcha! "But how did- Myra you said her name was? How did she get her hands on one in the first place?"

"I don't know," I said while shrugging my shoulders. "The usual way. She is a priestess. So, I guess by telling a prophecy."

"You know how prophecies work around here?" Yeah, I do. No need to grab my arm as if it was a big revelation. Eat your apple. "Every time I ask a priestess, they deflect."

"Well, I know what Myra told me. They kind of tell a prophecy and then reinforce it with meditation until it becomes self-fulfilling."

Maryn is nodding along but then frowns. "That's more than what they told me. But how exactly can a prophecy become self-fulfilling? What's the mechanic behind it?"

Help! How should I know? I still am trying to understand this world myself. So many mysteries still to explore. Well, I have made some progress. Maybe-

"Well, Maryn, I don't know how priestesses and prophecies work in detail. But I think I have a theory. Based on what I found out about the void. The way the void was explained to me is that it isn't empty. It's like it has matter, but without fixed form. Without realized potential. So, Besona, and everything in it, is a kind of matter that is given form. Specifically one form. The potential is narrowed to just one thing. Yeah, I know that look on your face. I got headaches too the first time it dawned on me."

"So, priestesses and prophecies," I say slowly as I tap on my chin. Now that I think about it, it kind of made sense. "I think they kind of carve potential into the matter again. Like they give Besona an idea and make sure that Besona itself accepts it. And then, the world will make it happen. I don't even think the original apple Myra summoned is from Earth. It is more like Myra specified that an apple will appear and Besona got the information what an apple is from Earth. And then just created one from the void or so."

"If that is true, are we just copies?" Maryn asks.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I had a whole experience of floating away from my body and racing through inky blackness until I stumbled out of a portal here in Besona."

"Yeah. Me too."

"So, I think our soul and attached memories are the original. Everything else comes from Besona."

"Makes sense," Maryn says before falling silent. Lost in thought? Maybe. If so, then not for long. "That explains how prophecies work that summon things from outside. But what about those that work within Besona?"

Now, it is my time to frown. "What do you mean?"

"I overheard the head priestess and one other talking about another prophecy. One about me that is still unfolding. But when I confronted them about it, they acted like I imagined things. That they aren't telling or manifesting a prophecy about me. I think they are lying."

I can only nod to that. "Aside from Myra, I don't trust the lot of them. The church is shady."

"Which church?" Maryn asks as if it wasn't obvious.

"The Church Of The Otherworldly, of course."

"Yeah, they are the only ones, right?" Why is Maryn leaning over as if she wants to share conspiracy theories? We are alone. "Except, I overheard them mentioning another church. One based in the western empire. And guess what? When I asked they denied everything."

"A second church?" Well, that changes things. Is it the same as our church? Can they summon stuff? Make prophecies? Are they working in tandem or against each other? "That could explain a few things. Maybe the church - our church - doesn't have a prophecy about you brewing. Maybe the other church has."

"Maybe. But I don't care. Lillyn, someone is running a self-fulfilling prophecy about me. They always say we make our own destiny. But not in my case. I have no clue what they have planned for me. Is there a happily ever after for me or a heroic sacrifice? Because, right now, it feels like the latter. I am being run from one training session to the next. Always as if we are running out of time. Barely any breaks. I feel like the heroine of a grand epic, but instead of joining in the first act, I am thrown in in the last act."

"That sucks." Have I told you recently how glad I am that I am not the hero? Because all I hear is that Maryn is having a rough time. Yeah, she appears to be right now in the part that is usually skipped in movies. Except for a few scenes. Yeah. Welcome to Maryn's training montage. Except it isn't cut out for her. She has to go through the hard part herself. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"There is. And I mean besides keeping your ears open for more information about prophecies. You will do that for me, right?"

"Of course, I will." I mean it is the decent thing to do. Also, I am curious too. Some of the things Maryn said had been illuminating. Maybe we can solve this crazy puzzle called Besona together. "Maybe my contacts in the void trader guild might know more. There used to be a time when the guild and church were best buddies. Though, not lately."

"That's good. Thanks. But there is something else." Maryn is holding open the palm of her hand in an all too familiar gesture by now. Above it, two transparent icons appear. One sheathed sword and a chest. "That's my backup gear. I have the feeling it is better to give it to you than to lug it around. From what I hear rumor is you are some kind of research genius. And seeing that Automata move- That gives me hope."

"I can try," I say as I agree to the trade. "Just a fair warning. Besona hates me. For every successful research, I stumble through three that are not only failures but designed to make me the center of a joke."

"Just try. Please? You are the only one I trust right now. You're from Earth too. I doubt you already have complicated machinations on Besona in play."

"Not yet." Looks like my joke fell flat. Maybe not the right time. Time for a playful jab at her rips. "Joking. I'll look into it. I promise. There are some breakthroughs in adventurer gear I have made. Come back in a few days and I probably have your gear enhanced by then. How much I can't say. We'll have to see."

"I can give you three," Maryn says while frowning. "We'll do one last deep dive into the mansion and then we'll fly to the next hardened space. One more difficult."

"I'll have something by then." I hope.

"Time to leave. Before my guards get impatient and storm your ship."

Yeah. Time to get to work. Barely managed to finish Automata and now I have a new big project. As if I hadn't a few of those already.

Wait. Is Maryn leaning in for a hug? Uff. I feel like a bumper car. Bosom pillow meeting bosom pillow. That was an ill-advised move.

Stepping out of my Little Mule reveals a tense scene. The guards are staring down Becky, who keeps them in check with her own stare. I guess that she can do that to a group speaks volumes about her.

The moment after Maryn joins her guards and walks off, Becky is turning towards me. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Just a little chat. Maybe no walk this evening. I have to call the guilt for some research of the mundane art."

"A good opportunity to make up with Iren and Essie," Becky reminds me as we step inside again.

My answer is a groan. Very verbal and heartfelt.

Yep. No avoiding it now.

Look, you don't need to witness me groveling and begging for forgiveness. Talk to you soon.

Oh, no. Not that smell again. Not the way I prefer to wake up. Becky and her stupid tea. Yeah, she drinks. And eats. Not that she has to. Something along the lines of her automata body is self-sustained and self-repairing. A real marvel of engineering. Bla. Bla. Bla.

Apparently, the real miracle is that Becky can stand that smell. I mean, don't get me wrong, the Comulussus tea tastes fine. Good even. But the smell is horrendous. Yes, the name too. But that is beside the point.

Every morning that Becky brews this tea, my Little Mule smells like licorice. And I hate licorice. It doesn't even make sense. The tea itself doesn't taste like licorice. More like mango or so. I am half-minded to ask Becky for a sample. Give it a spin on the research bench. Maybe I can get rid of that smell. But with my luck, the tea probably starts to taste like licorice too.

Ugh! I hate my life.

Speaking of research. Time to see how I failed this time. It's been half a rotation since Maryn visited me and asked for a favor. The small task of improving her backup gear to a level that is better than her primary one. So far, I got zilch. Well, not nothing, but close to it.

I mean combining her leather chest armor with a potion for health makes sense, right? Yeah, to Besona too. As in just another opportunity to tell a joke on my behalf. I doubt Maryn needs a Chestplate Of Chestbumps. No, that was no joke on my part. That's the name of my latest creation. It literally heals her if she bumps into an enemy with her rack first. Yeah, her bosom has the size to make a great deal of bludgeoning damage. Still, I doubt she'll be hyped by my research.

Time to see my latest screw-up.

> Buster Sword Of Growing Distraction <
> This heavy sword strikes a perfect balance between offensive striking power and defensive shielding due to its width. Enchanted to provide a distraction to opponents. <
> Active ability: Damaging a creature's hitpoints builds up a charge within the blade. <
> Passive ability: Converts build-up charge into a growths enchantment localized to the wielder's chest area. <
> 544 void-favors <

Oh, I hate you Besona. A sword that makes your chest grow as you strike down enemies? How does that work? Whack. Whack. Whack. Cup-size up! Whack. Whack. Whack. Sweater puppies ahoy!

Maryn, like myself, doesn't need to get any bigger. We are already massive. I mean, maybe Dera-

No, Dera is still not talking to me. Even though I paraded Becky around the courtyard. Well, Myra and I took evening walks and Becky followed a few paces behind. Same thing really.

Yeah, I don't see that sword working out. Or the rest of the crap Besona threw at me. None of the enchantments I researched before are helpful. Well, a few would be, if Besona would stop screwing with me.

Time to call for help. Okay. Sitting down first. Initiate call.

"Good morning, Lillyn. Did that sword work out?"

Ugh. Why is Pasus so cheery in the morning? As if he is looking forward to my failures. Well, it's got to be amusing to him. Damn you, Besona.

"No, it didn't. The growth enchantment took, but it is focused wrong. Body part specific again. I must be doing something wrong."

For example, trusting Besona with my research. Not that I have a choice in that matter there.

"I wish I could help you," Pasus says after chewing his last bite of breakfast.

It looks yummy. I practically can smell it- Wait, no. That's licorice. I smell it even here? Projected halfway across the continent? What bullshit is this?

Anyway, back to Pasus.

"It told you, weapon and armor enchantments aren't really my thing. That enchantment storage device you've got is intriguing, but I doubt it will help you. You might want to talk to an expert."

"Who? The traders at Maynard Mansion? Can I have your best-enchanted gear? Promise I won't be a competitor."

"Maybe Iren can do something?"

Here is a thought. Yes, Pasus is right. Technically, I could ask her. I mean she is supposed to be my mentor. Sort of. But my relationship right now is a little strained. Yes, I did apologize. But she had a kind of look in her eyes that said "don't fuck up again too soon". Not to mention that she or Essie might ask why I am inquiring about enchantments for weapons or armor. If I don't wanna lie then I have to reveal that it is a favor for the church. Well, church adjacent. I know there is a rift between the void trader guild and the church. What I don't know is how much of it is mutual. I could be stepping into the next pile of Lillyn-fucked-up-again.

"I will ask her," I promise aloud to Pasus. "But maybe as a last option. Things are complicated right now."

"If it is really urgent, then don't wait too long."

"Yeah." Time is running out. Technically, this evening. Maryn said she'd be back after three days. Right before they jet off to their next stop. "I am gonna figure something out. Thanks, Pasus. It was good talking to you, but I better go."

"Don't be a stranger."

Another bust. Well, Pasus is right. He warned me he wasn't the best person to ask. It was a long shot. But at least I could bounce ideas off him and get his input.

What's next? Time to open up my shop. Normally, I'd eat. Maybe later. Smells too much like licorice here.

As I step to the stairs, Becky is looking up. Curious. "You have a visitor."

This early? Well, I called people in the morning too, so I can't fault other people for showing up early.

"Myra?"

The priestess is standing outside. Rays of morning light fall around her. Damn, she is beautiful. Did I ever mention that? In her own way. Not the classical sense. Or supermodel or so. But cute and-

Nevermind. You don't need to hear that.

"Sorry to bother you this early, but-"

"I don't mind."

Coming closer, Myra is pulling me aside. Making sure we are alone. That not even Becky could overhear us. Now the first time they both met was funny, because- No, wait, this isn't the time to tell that story.

"I wanted to see you. Before we leave."

"What does that mean? Maryn isn't even back yet and-"

"Maryn was nearly assassinated." Myra gave a quick glance around. Making sure, again, that we were still alone. "I am not even supposed to tell you this. They came back late this night. Bloodied. Out of potions. One of her guards didn't make it. They had to leave his soul crystal behind. Now the head priestess decided we have to leave immediately."

"Now?" What is that sinking feeling in my chest? I knew I had to say goodbye to Myra today. But not yet.

"In a few bells. We have to prepare the Little Swan for our trip to the Pyramids Of Kentoshan. Maryn and I had a talk three days ago. Before she headed in. She said that you are doing research for her?"

"I am trying. Not with a lot of luck yet."

"Keep at it, please. Maryn needs all the help she can get. We all do. And something else-"

"Yes?"

"I know I said I will give you time until you are ready, but these are uncertain times and-"

And at this moment, when I am totally unprepared, she kisses me. And what a kiss. Her lips are so soft. Can this go on forever? Please?

"I am sorry," she says as she breaks contact.

"Don't be." Damn, what was I waiting on before? I like her. Do I really need more time? Is my unfamiliarity with my new body and gender really worth losing her? "We will see each other again. I promise."

"Don't promise me things you can't keep." Tears start to dwell in the corners of her eyes. But they have a steely seriousness. "We are going against the Western Empire. Lillyn, be glad that you haven't heard the stories about them that I have heard. This might be our last chance to stop them. Maryn is our last hope. If she fails- As much as I would like to stay with you, I can't. So please. Be safe, okay?"

Before I can answer, she slips my grasp. Hurrying away with tears dripping in her wake. Should I go after her? What else is there to say? I know her mind is made up. She chooses Maryn over me. No, her duty. Her world.

How could I compete? I can't even research anything useful. All boobs this and hijinks that. I guess I need to have faith. In her. And in Maryn. The good guys always win, right? I am just a trader. Fumbling around to make a mark. I guess that is all I am good for.

---

"There they go."

Becky's comment drew my attention away from my current trade interaction. Behind my customer, I can catch just a short glimpse of a Little Swan flying away. Just a few bells shy of noon. The airship of the church had left and I am stuck here. With my research going nowhere and no Myra to cheer me up.

To say my mood is in the crapper is an understatement. Not even my customer's reaction to Becky could lighten my mood. The first day was the most hilarious. The line in front of my Little Mule actually swayed to the side when Becky walked around. Giving her plenty of space. By now, most customers have gotten used to my "Automata". Mostly now only took one or two involuntary steps backward if Becky was close.

My mind definitely wasn't on trading either. It is constantly circling around one thought: should I follow? Maynard Mansion was good for business. Plenty of customers and I get a steady stream to void. By now I know why staying here is a coveted spot. Iren really did me a solid by getting me here. And there are still quite a few days left before I have to vacate it.

The void trader in me urges me to make the most out of it. Get as many void-favors as possible before moving on. Then I could follow Myra and the church. But what if they already moved on to the next spot? Would I be able to catch up? I mean, I could go now. Iren boasted that she could fill this spot within a day should I decide to leave early. To be honest, something in me knows I still have stuff to do at Maynard Mansion. Something here is still left to discover. To do. And I don't mean doing a few more trades.

But after that kiss-

My heart beats for Myra. What a fool I am for acknowledging it too late. And with each passing minute, the need to leave grows.

"Say, Becky, what do you know of the Pyramids of Kendo-uhm-shim-sham? Something like that," I ask as noon rolls around and it is time for lunch.

"The Pyramids of Kentoshan? A lot. Damn, I have lots of nice memories. Horrible ones too. They aren't like Maynard Mansion. A cakewalk in comparison. No, Kentoshin is for the veterans. For those shown they could handle it. A real challenge."

And newbie Maryn is dragged there. Does the church really have her best interest at heart? Becky's statement fans the flame of my worries. Maybe I should go. I need to probe my bodyguard more.

"Sounds like you miss the place."

"Well, yeah," Becky admits. As I hoped she would. "But my body got older, you know. Now, with this body and as Becky, I might be able to compete again. Heck, I might not even need a group."

"I am thinking of moving there for a few days. Change of scenery and all that. What is the situation there, void-trader wise? Would there be lots of competition?"

Becky gives me a chuckle in return. It might have been cute to others. But I can't help but remember that it is actually Nadare in there. Somehow, that disconnect between both feels strange to me. Thankfully, it looks like Becky is to give me more of an answer than a chuckle.

"You haven't heard much about it, I take it. The Pyramids Of Kentoshan are a challenge even for veterans. That makes for poor visitor count. I won't lie to you. There won't be much of a customer base. Sometimes a void trader stops for a day or two, but that is rare. Every few rotations. Soul keepers are even rarer. The only place close by is a tavern and inn that caters to the basic needs of adventurers."

That sounds perfect for staying below the radar. No wonder the church is going there. Not much trade, but that would leave me time to focus on research. I might even give meditation a try. That should cut down on research time. Becky can go reliving her past - well, Nadare's past - and maybe drag out something interesting. A harder area means better loot, right?

Alright. It is decided. I am following Myra! And the church. Whatever. But before I break camp here, I've got to do a few things. First, I have to call Iren and hope she won't be too mad. Then, I think I might try to speak to Awyn. Yes, Essie's aunt. I might have something that could be valuable in a trade.

"Excuse me, Becky, I need to make a call."

Once again into the breach. Well, my living room to use the projection system to reach Iren.

Again, I find myself in the reception area. Why do I always feel like a student being sent to the principal when I am here?

By now, the receptionist knows me. Probably not in a good way, but oh well. The wait is short until I am transferred. Not the meeting room this time and Essie isn't here.

But Iren is. Sitting behind her large desk. Relaxed. But I can see the suspicion in her eyes.

"Lillyn. I wish I could say it is good to see you. What did you do this time? Probably something giving me headaches later on."

That's not fair. I-

Well, it might be somewhat fair. Anyway, I came prepared. Just need the right moment to reveal itself.

"Nothing yet. But I am about to-"

"You won't be heading into a hardened space again. Right?"

Uhh. Her last word definitely had some fire to it. Time for damage control.

"No. No. I promise. I've got someone to do that for me now. You remember that I tried to get Automata working?"

As an answer, I get a frown and a shake of her head. "A foolish endeavor."

"Not for me. It worked. Sort of. It needs a soul crystal. I've got a volunteer! Yeah, before you accuse me of anything I wanted that to be said. The Automata I researched are not autonomous devices. Rather they act as an alternative body. I think there is real potential there. And that's why I am here. I need a private spot for the field test. Not Maynard Mansion. There, Becky - the volunteer - drew all the eyes. Something remote would be good."

Silence is settling over the room. No, Iren isn't giving me the cold shoulder. I hope so. She looks contemplative.

After a moment, she is giving me a nod. "If you think it is worthwhile. That leaves your spot free at Maynard's."

"You said I could do so. Boasting that you could get someone there within a day as a replacement."

"Oh, I can. It's just noon. If you leave soon I think I have someone who could be there by evening."

"I need a few more bells. One or two. Four at most." Because I still need to speak with Awyn. But Iren doesn't need to know that.

"That works," Iren agrees. "So, where to? Do you have a new spot in mind? I think there are a few secluded spots I could recommend."

"My volunteer suggested the Pyramids of Kentoshan." Well, sort of a white lie, but oh well.

I got a surprised quirk of her eyebrow. Is that a good sign? I hope so.

"That is certainly remote," Iren agrees. "Though I heard it is quite difficult. Are you sure your volunteer is up for it? Or your new product."

"Becky was there before and we both think the Automata body can handle it."

"Alright. It is settled then. Do let me know how your test fares. And when you need to relocate."

"Will do."

And sus, after a little bit more small talk that I spare you from, my call to Iren ends. But I am not done yet. Time to meet my next business partner. Sort of. And this one will be both harder and in person.

"I am out for a while," I say as I pass Becky. "One last meeting and we'll be on our way. I should be back in a bell or two. Looks like you can get reacquainted with the pyramids after all."

"I'll tell your customers," my bodyguard yells behind.

Right. There are already a few lining up. Well, they have to make due for half a day without a void trader. They should be pleased too. Iren probably won't send another newbie like me. Though I doubt they'll have a secret selection as I do.

Spotting my next target, I walk up their ramp. Which is thankfully lowered. Out of the sun, I can make out the person eating lunch. Something in a bowl with soup. Looks like thick noodles of some kind and meat I am definitely not familiar with. It is surprisingly yellow.

"I am not open yet," the person says without really glancing in my direction. Rather concentrating on her meal. She really has nearly the same facial features as Essie. This isn't surprising, as Awyn is Essie's aunt.

"Not even making an exception for a fellow trader?"

That got a reaction. Looking up, Awyn waved me over. "Lillyn. Good to see you. Come. Grab a seat. Did you eat already?"

Eyeing the unfamiliar meal, I rather cut that line of thought off. "Not yet, but I'll take the time once my Little Mule is in the air."

Having caught her attention, Awyn is pushing her meal to the side. "You are taking off? That is sudden. Can I ask why?"

"You've seen my Automata?"

Awyn gives me a snort in return. "Who hasn't?"

"It is time to test her," I lie. Because no one needs to know the truth. Not even Essie's aunt. Heck, I haven't even told Iren the truth. "Put her through the paces. Don't wanna do it here. Under everyone's eyes. I'll be going somewhere remote."

"I appreciate the courtesy of informing me, but perhaps you should first-"

"Iren already knows," I say to cut her off. "And I didn't just come here as a courtesy. I need to make a trade. One you might not like at first. I need to expand my inventory of goods to sell. Weapons. Armor. But I know it is frowned upon to build up a competitor. Hence, I am not sure if you are willing to help."

Instead of engaging in negotiations with me, Awyn leans back. Staring into the void. Now and then fishing for one of those noodle thingies and slurping them up. At last, she makes up her mind. Or I hope she did.

"I mostly trade in weapons. Though I can sell you armor too. I don't offer it around here to not step on Xerestes toes."

"Who?"

"The asshole who sells armor over there," Awyn answers with a lazy flick of her wrist vaguely in the right direction.

Urg, right. If I can avoid dealing with him, it would be better.

"But you are right," Awyn continues. "We void-trader don't build up our competition. Unless we get something worthwhile in return. For example, I hear you have a certain monopoly on a line of eccentric garments."

Her hands cupping her breasts is entirely unnecessary. I know that she is after my enchant-up bras.

"I am not ready to depart with those. Yet. And when I do, I have a different person in mind to take over. Someone we both know."

"Lillyn. I like you. You are strange. Different. In a good way. But as much as I love my niece, if that is off the table, what else can you offer me? All sympathy won't buy you this favor."

"This will," I say as I materialize a small box with a display. "This little device might help you secure your spot as one of the best, if not the best, weapon sellers in Besona. It is an enchantment storage device. Place it on a workbench along with an enchanted item, and this device will learn one of the enchantments each cycle. A different mode lets you place a targeted enchantment on a blueprint. Both actions cost a few void-favors, but the result might be more than worth it."

Thinking deeply, Awyn picks up the device just to stare at it. Probably running calculations in her mind. Her next question I anticipated. "Just one enchantment per item?"

"So far, I managed four without a problem. I do not know what the limit is as I haven't really tried yet to find it."

"I'd say you have caught my interest," Awyn finally says as she places the recorder back down. "What deal exactly are you envisioning?"

"You keep the device and use it to your fullest, but the design rights remain with me. In exchange, I get to buy weapons and armor of my choosing from you for a fair market price."

"Deal," Awyn says before I can finish. Offering her hand to make it official.

---

By the time I am ready to leave Essie's aunt, my soul inventory is loaded up with three boxes. One containing weapons and the other two various pieces of equipment. If one would look into it they might find no rime or reason for my selection. I decided based on enchantments. None are double and each is on a piece the cheapest I could find. Recording those all might take a rotation or two, but afterward, I should be able to create heavily enchanted gear for Maryn.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you," Awyn says with the last handshake.

"Likewise."

I barely walked a few steps down the ramp when Awyn addresses me one last time. "Oh, and Lillyn-"

"Yes?"

Lifting the device up she throws one last revelation at my head. "If you ever create a device for recording blueprints, let me know."

The fuck! A device for blueprints? Why haven't I thought of that? Just think of the implications. Iren told me that one of the hurdles for void-trader families was the passing along of their stock to the next generation. Heck, Pasus is still learning the staple of his family. It takes time. A lot of it. Not everyone has a void score of thirteen and can breeze through it. Such a device would change the landscape for void-traders forever.

Could I do it? How did I create the enchantment recorder in the first place? I think I used the mp3 player I got from the church and lipstick. Trying to put sound effects on the lipstick. Well, I doubt the device was inspired by the lipstick.

So, let's take it apart. What is a music player good for? Well, to store and playback music. Pretty sure the storing effect comes from that. Now for the focus on enchantments. Neither, player nor lipstick had enchantments before. So, where did it come from? Could it be just from me thinking about creating an enchantment? Well, Pasus told me our subconscious thinking might impact results. So, that's gotta be it, right?

Wow. I think this is the first time I could actually logically trace how one of Besona's crazy results came to be. So, can I replicate this? Let's see. For storing blueprints, the music player will do fine. And for blueprints? Well, I got all these diagrams from the Automata workshop. And then I have to think about what I want. No, more than that. I have to meditate on that.

Guys, this might actually work. If this works then-

What the hell is going on in front of my Little Mule? There is a crowd of people around the ramp.

"Excuse me! Let me through! What is this-"

Fuck. It is Becky. Positioned on the ramp. Her sword is drawn and she is blindfolded. Why? Now and then, someone is tossing fruit or vegetables at her. No, more like throwing. Becky isn't just dodging them gracefully. Even before the edible projectile can come near her, her slim sword arcs out and slices it apart. It was punctured by a cheer from the crowd that rises in fervor as Becky hits each half again before they hit the ground.

This is a display of strength, dexterity, and perception. Showing everyone how badass Becky is. She told me her new Automata body was nearly as good as Nadare's body in his prime. If so, Nadare must have been the boss. I mean, the level of Hercules or so.

Wait. Guys. My first research of an Automata produced something nearly as good as a human who steeled and trained their body for two decades. Holy shit. It's a shortcut. It is the motherfucking queen of shortcuts. With one of my Automata bodies, Maryn can jump ahead of the curve. Sure, it won't give her the necessary skills, but her body will be a powerhouse of prowess. And if I put a few research cycles on the Automata body, who knows how much stronger I can make it?

"Okay. The show is over!" I say stepping forward, just as Becky manages to hit two fruit thrown at the same time with a single slice of her sword.

A bunch of boos and awws. I don't have time for that. We need to get moving. I've got stuff to research. Oh man, I can't wait to tell Myra about my discoveries.

"There will be a replacement trader here within a day," I yell into the crowd. Shoo-ing them away. As soon as the ramp is clear, I have to ask Becky: "What was all that about?"

"Your customers gathered and I told them we were leaving. And because you weren't around they got curious enough to ask about my Automata body. So, I demonstrated some of the capabilities."

"I could see that. Impressive." Hopefully not too much. I mean, I want to get it to the masses. More void-favors, you know? With rezzing the body for Becky and buying stuff from Awyn, I am nearly broke. But I want to concentrate on Maryn. Heck, could you imagine if the Western Empire gets wind of my Automata? That would put a target on my back. "You didn't tell them about needing a soul crystal for the Automata body to work, right?"

"It hasn't come up yet."

That is good. Time to close the ramp and then program the autopilot. But maybe some praise is due.

"That display of capabilities was impressive, but I doubt it was all the Automata body."

"To utilize a body correctly takes skill and I learned a few things in my time adventuring." I thought Becky was done humble-bragging when she suddenly continues. "Though I have to admit, I might get more out of this body once I am more used to it. Some of the more hidden capabilities."

Say, what? Did I miss something? I had so many revelations right now, I am not sure I can stomach another one. Damn. I gotta know. Or else this might gnaw at me the whole day.

Play it nonchalant, Lillyn. Just be cool. "Such as?"

"Well, I hardly can test the 'auto-equip on death' feature," Becky says with a shrug. "As I was already dead when I was mounted in it."

"Say what now?" Did I hear correctly?

"Auto-equip on death. You don't know?" My confusion must be evident as Becky started to stare in the distance and read out loud. "Feature: if present in inventory while the owner suffers a fatal injury, this body will automatically materialize and equip emerging soul-crystal."

"That's-" Fuck! That's brilliant. Like, oh no, I am dead. But not really! Got a spare body. Or two or three. Depends on how many you carry with you. Heck, adventurers might be able to cram even more into their inventory. That's the ultimate get out of jail card. Well, out of death card. This might be exactly what Maryn needs. Even if an assassin gets through, Maryn will pop right up.

"We need to get moving," I say aloud. "But first, research."

Come on, Lillyn. What to put on the research bench? Stuff I bought from Awyn? Damn, if I am right about the Automata bodies, then this avenue of research might be useless. Curses! I might have bought all this equipment for naught.

And even if I research the weapons and armor from Awyn, is there a guarantee I will get something useful? I mean with my luck, Besona will shimmy a boob joke in there anyways. I mean the last few days have been one after another boob-related failure. Nearly as if-

Holy shit! What if this was Besona's way of saying: "Hey, Lillyn. Wrong-way. You are meant to research something different." And then I got Automata and that worked brilliantly. Until I tried to switch to equipment. Besona came back with a vengeance to put boobs literally in my way. I am driving down the big-boob interstate and Besona is like "leave at the next exit and turn on Automata avenue", but I ignored my Navi.

Okay. Weapons and armor are out for now. I don't wanna find out how a double-D cup Warhammer looks like. That leaves Automata and- Damn. I wanted to try that blueprint thingy. It could be helpful, right? Okay, Besona. One more tiny detour and then we go Automata all the way. Deal? Great.

Alright. Music player and as many blueprints I can fit in a box. Both on the bench. Now, time to program the autopilot. Alright, we are on the way. Pyramids of Kendobento, here we come.

Yes, this feels good. Like, I have a purpose. Look, I don't think I am the hero of the story. That's Maryn. But maybe it is no accident I landed here after all. Maybe I've got a role to play. No hero is truly alone. Just think about it. This world was saved by Maryn. And then an asterisk. With the fine print below: sponsored by Lillyn. You're welcome.

Puh. This was an exhausting day. And it is only early afternoon. I need a break. Talk to you all later, okay?

"Good morning, Becky."

And good morning to you, imaginary audience. How was your night? Mine was short. Way too short. I guess it is my own fault. Bothering Becky with questions about The Pyramids Of Kentoshan. I think this time, I got the name right. Becky was annoyed with the times I got it wrong yesterday.

Anyway, once Becky started, there was no stopping her. Telling tales of her days as Nadare and the things he encountered inside the pyramids. Way too many details. Not just about Nadare or the pyramids. Nope. Apparently, he ran with a tight-knit group. I now know more about them than say Iren or Pasus.

The hard part was to say no when Becky transitioned from one story to the next. Because, believe it or not, they were actually good and interesting. Heck, who knew the grumpy old Nadare had a talent as a storyteller. Now, as Becky, it sprouted out of her like a geyser.

It was entertaining.

It was also killer for my plans to go to bed on time.

Time for breakfast. No hurry though. We were still mid-flight on our way to the pyramids. No customers who stood impatiently early in the morning at your ramp and giving you the stinky eye for opening the shop past sunrise.

Maybe I should eat in the small cockpit area. Urg, Becky, and her smelly tea. Roommates. Sometimes more trouble than they are worth. Well, if Becky is heading for the pyramids, then maybe I have some mornings for myself again.

We should be close by now. The autopilot says less than half a bell. Gotta eat quickly. Well, that leaves me time to check on my little side-project. Come on Besona. Don't screw this up for me.

It worked!

Yes!

Here. Take a look.

> Portable Blueprint Library <
> This magilogical wonder of a device can store blueprints researched by a void-trader. It also can teach stored blueprints to void traders who do not have them yet. Each process needs to be helped along with a generous amount of void-favors. <
> Active ability: In exchange for 1000 void-favors a known blueprint of the users choosing is permanently inscribed into the library.<
> Active ability: By selecting a blueprint from the library a user can permanently learn it for the cost of 1000 void-favors.<
> 4823 void-favors <

This changes everything. Well, not for me. I mean, not immediately. With this, void-traders can pass on their blueprints in minutes, instead of months or even years. Or a void-trader could archive their unique blueprints and have another void-trader franchise them. I mean, Iren told me something like that happens now and then in the void-trader guild. I could gather up all those naughty and lewd undergarments and gimmicks I researched and hand it over to someone. Their responsibility then and I get a part of their profits. It's a win-win situation. Just need to find the right void-trader for that job.

But all that has to wait. I am here for Myra and Maryn. They need practical stuff. Not boob growth garments. Maryn's breasts are big enough. Believe me, I should know. We are practically twins in that regard.

Oh, I think we are landing. Time to take a peek at-

Holy shit! Those are big ones. I mean, Becky said The Pyramids Of Kentoshan are big. So are ours in Egypt. But these here are humongous. Like twice the size at least.

And now I understand what Becky meant with terraces. That part of her stories had me confused. Now, I see. The pyramids are shaped like- Yeah, you guessed it. But every few meters up, the solid structure gave way to open floor space. Around it are columns that hold up the next part of the pyramid. Like those ancient temples in Rome? Or Greece? One of those. But these columns are slanted. The same angle the pyramid has. Preserving the overall geometry of the building. The largest one has nine of these terraces and the smaller ones have four or five.

These pyramids are definitely not tombs, like the one on Earth. No. These are palaces. Built to house the ruling class of an ancient empire. Fallen apart as their very leaders had become so entrenched in their ways that their space hardened around them.

Becky assured me there was plenty of loot to be found here. Then why did barely anyone ever come here? Think about it. Here was the government of that empire. Their rulers. And in a feudal society, that power they wielded was bought with military strength and fear. These pyramids housed a small army of palace guards. The very best. Their elite.

And Maryn is heading in there.

Fuck!

At least, if I give her my Automata body, she has an extra life. A second chance to get out if all gets too hard. That should make the church happy too. If I equip Maryn and her bodyguards with Automata, they'll be less prone to assassination attempts.

Time to craft a few of-

Oh, hell-

Yeah, Automata bodies are expensive. Ten grand of void-favors. And I am broke. How am I supposed to make one for Maryn? Let alone her whole entourage. Worse, if I wanna improve the Automata body then I need a copy to put on the research bench.

I mean, I could take Becky's Automata body, but that would be cruel. Even more so now that I know soul-crystals can see and hear. With us moving into the most remote region, who knows when a soul-guide will show up.

I need void-favors, but where to get them? Well, what don't I need from my inventory? I do have a lot of blueprints from the servant quarters. Ironically, I didn't get a blueprint for the blueprints. Do I still need them? I researched Automata - kind of - and I have my new device to store and teach blueprints. To the void with them.

Damn, that wasn't a lot of void favors. Hmm. The machine for Automata fabrication? No. I might need that one. Haven't even used it for a single research. No blueprint for it either or I wouldn't hesitate to trash it. I can reduce my readily on hand of potions. That will bring me a few hundred.

What else? Guess my overly defensive outfit can go into the void too. I don't think I will take a tour of the pyramids. Or any other hardened space. We are being remote enough that being kidnapped or assassinated by the Western Empire is a smaller chance. I can live with that. I hope. Famous last words vibe.

I am close. Guess some of the equipment I got from Arwyn has to meet the void too. Before I even got a chance to copy their enchantments. Then again, I decided to go all-in on Automata. A few of the armor enchantments might be useful to transfer onto Automata. Provided that is possible. That means I can trash some weapons.

There. That should be enough. At least for one Automata. Hand it over to Maryn or use it for research? That's a hard choice. Let's connect with Maryn and decide then. Maybe the church has a few void-favors to spare. If I help them save the world, then at least they can bankroll my research a bit.

"We've landed," Becky says. Poking her head into the cockpit. "Want me to give you a tour? It will be a short one for sure."

"Why not?"

Time to head out. Well, just by stepping outside I can see what Becky means. As much as the pyramids are impressive, the area around them is disappointing. It is a desolate landscape with barely any vegetation. Now, early in the morning, it is slightly chilly too. Should have researched something warmer to wear.

Apparently, my Little Mule knew exactly where to park. Its nose and the nose of the church's Little Swan are exactly in line. The same even space between the ships that I already know from parking at Maynard Mansion. Come to think of it, the same had been true for Tsundore Fields.

Anyway, just past the church's Little Swan, I can see a building. Wooden. Two stories. Not very big.

"What's that?"

"That's the Lonesome Tavern," Becky enlightened me. "Run by my good old friend Edgiff. I wonder if the old man will recognize me like this."

"I doubt it," I mutter to myself. Then louder: "Why? Any unpaid bar taps?"

"Nah. But my pals and I are known here for - maybe - partying a little too hard."

"Wait, is that the tavern from the story where you tried to light your burps on fire and burned down the establishment instead."

"Nope. That was the Drunk Anchor in Saltmore Bay."

Well, up close, the tavern looked solid enough. Not so ramshackle and time-worn from the view of my Little Mule suggested. And it was still standing. That was a testament of some kind too.

"Ladies first," Becky says as she holds open the door for me.

Should I point out that she is a lady now too? Well, provided I can exercise some of that rowdy behavior of hers. Right now calling Becky a lady was kind of a stretch. And if even a quarter of Nadare's stories were true, then this gal knew how to party. And yet, despite all the stories, I have trouble envisioning it. Nadare outgoing and a party animal.

Pushing in didn't reveal the most promising display. The interior - while being cared for - looked worn down. A long bar and a few tables in the back. It reminds me of my dive bar touring days.

Aside from the owner - a young guy in his twenties - a dozen figures crowded the small room. All eyes fell on me. At least until they spotted Becky.

"An Automata? Here?" a fighter asks while drawing his sword.

I can see others doing the same with their weapons. Time to step in. Or step before Becky. Before something regretful happens.

"She's with me. My name is Lillyn and I am a void-trader. Becky here is my latest research breakthrough." Well, one of them. No need for them to know. "She won't attack or hurt you. But she will defend herself. So, you better sheath your weapon."

They are reluctant to do so. I can understand. Seeing Automata and especially Becky in action certainly is memorable.

"Welcome to my establishment. I am Bertoff. Proprietor of the Lonesome Tavern," the young barkeep chips in. Breaking the tense mood of the room. "A void-trader? We don't get much of yours around here."

I was about to eloquently explain myself, but then Becky is butting in. "What happened to Edgiff?"

"Pops? He retired a few years back. Wait-"

Bertoff is glancing back and forth between me and Becky. I can clearly see his thought process. If I just invented or researched this Automata, then how come she knew his old man. And with apparent familiarity.

"You might as well show him your soul-crystal," I say. But only after a loud sigh.

"Oh, right. Ups." Part of Becky's chest opened up and folded to the sides. Revealing Nadare's soul-crystal inside. Bertoff is getting a good view and I don't need to turn around to know the adventurers are craning their neck to see too. "I am an old friend of Edgriff. In fact, I had you on my lap when you were just a wee lad."

"Alright. Alright. I better explain this." Turning around, I raise my voice. "As you can see, Becky here has a soul-crystal mounted. She is a volunteer to test this body out. This is meant as a backup body if an adventurer dies out there. It should be able to gather soul-flakes too. So, you can finance your own resurrection. However, Becky here is still a prototype and we are here to test the validity of my invention. I would appreciate it if you kept this quiet for now."

One adventurer stood up. "Do we know that volunteer that-"

"Do you need more volunteers?" A woman cut the first one off by raising her voice to drown him out.

"To reveal her true identity is up to Becky." A quick glance at her and I know she is shaking her head. "As for more volunteers. No, not right now. Why, though? You don't look like you need a new body."

"Not me. But they do," she says while pointing to the far wall.

How did I miss that? There were dozens of soul-chargers mounted to the wall. Some could only hold one soul-crystal, while others could hold two or four. Many are in use too. I guess about thirty soul-crystals occupied them. Most had names written on parchment, wood, or paper attached to them.

When the woman speaks again, I am not surprised by her revelation. "I'd say quite a few would volunteer. The soul-guide rarely comes there. My best guess is four to six more rotations on the wall for these poor fellas."

Damn. About thirty? Can I even make enough Automatas for them? With a price tag of around ten thousand, I'd have to void my Little Mule to afford that. And there might still be a few unfortunate adventurers who wouldn't get one. I barely could afford to make one for Maryn.

Now, if you could talk to me my dear imaginary audience, you'd probably point out that surely those adventurers have void-favors to spare. Quite possibly. Maybe not enough to cover all of them. But then my secret would be out. Automata would become a known thing. It is quite a possibility the Western Empire would send out agents to get their hands on some. Trying to research their own version. Not to mention they would look at who created them. Me.

Damn!

"Look. I wish I could, but the product isn't ready for a larger test yet. The process of creating them is rather involved. I'll try to make them available to you all as soon as I can, but I am afraid this will take some time. A few rotations at least."

How much should I say? I've got to keep rumors to a minimum. At least for now and-

"Miss Lillyn?"

Wait. That voice came from behind me. Turning around, I see one of those g-man the church employs. In fact, it is the same one that cut me off last time from my Little Mule.

"Our mistress would like a word with you."

I bet she would. It was probably hard not to notice my arrival. Well, I did come here to talk to a few people. Maryn and Myra mostly. But maybe I can get the church to sponsor my research.

"As a matter of fact, I hoped she would." I give a slight nod to Becky before walking. "Lead the way."

I guess the adventurers here have to wait a little longer. Saved by the church bell so to speak. I just hope they don't run their mouths. Then again, the place looks desolate and far away from any other place. Who knows how long it takes to reach civilization if you don't have a flying ship.

The Little Swan is just as big as I remembered. On the outside at least. The inside is still cramped. By my count, the church must be stuffing ten to fifteen people in there. I bet my Little Mule would feel spacious to them. Even though I now have a roommate.

Stepping up some narrow steps, I am once again led to a small lounge. Of course, the head priestess is here. I am more surprised to see Myra in the background. There is that moment she tensed. As if she wanted to walk over and hug me. But instead, I barely notice a slight nod and her standing still. That is telling and I hope not a bad sign.

I take a seat opposite the head priestess. Before she can offer me a seat herself. Provided she intended to do so. Well, now that point is mood. I hear Becky taking up a position behind me. A fact that surprises me. No one challenged her when she walked in after me. They probably don't see her as a threat. A mistake I sadly have to point out soon.

"I bet you are wondering why I came here." Yep. That's me coming straight to the point. I won't pretend there is any goodwill between us.

"Our business concluded at Maynard Mansion. There is no reason to follow us here. None." If stares could kill, right? Well, though luck. I am here and the head priestess can eat a- Can of Borscht for all I care.

"Actually, there is," I say with a slight grin. Okay. Okay. Might be a full-blown smirk. "Our business is concluded for now. However, you are aware that Maryn visited me recently. I was hired by her to do some research. Improving equipment and other bits and pieces."

"The church is providing equipment." Did she just up-turn her nose to me? What a bitch. "Therefore, it won't be-"

"Therefore, I don't care. My contract is with Maryn. And I made a breakthrough. One that could shift the balance in her favor. This is-"

"A toy!" the head bitch of the church sneered at me before I could explain. "Tin soldiers can't be relied on."

Oh, man. I just about had it with her. "Listen, you arrogant piece of shit! You don't know anything!"

Well, that got me the attention I deserve. A few guards slipped out of her hiding holes. Drawing their weapons. Only to hesitate as Becky was faster. Her weapon out and ready.

"This is no tin soldier," I growl. Yes. Growl. You hear me right. "I researched a variant of the Automata body that can house a soul-crystal. Becky here is sentient. Got all her wits and memories. The body itself is strong and fast, as you just witnessed. This could be a shortcut for Maryn to bypass years, if not decades of improvements to her body. And the best part I haven't mentioned yet. If Maryn dies while having an Automata body in her soul-inventory, it automatically equips to her emerging soul-crystal. That means she got a second chance to either succeed or escape."

Silence is settling over the room. Unless you count looks. The head mistress's stare towards me spoke of no love lost between us. Heck, it would incinerate me on the spot, if that was possible. But after a moment, she gives a slight wave with her hand. A signal to her guards who relax and sheath their weapons fully.

"We can't rely on an invention that is untested and might fail in a critical moment. The fate of our world hangs in the balance." Before I can interrupt her with a harsh reply, she is holding up her hand again. This time as a sign of appeasement. "But I am willing to admit it might prove useful as a backup. Further, I won't deny Maryn this option if she chooses it."

Well, as much as I hate her, that arrogant priestess has valid points. Still, there might be a thin chance for cooperation. "Yes, this technology is new. And I will improve upon it. That's my immediate goal. As for testing, Becky here agreed to do it for me. That is the second reason I followed Maryn here. The pyramids are out of the way. Not many witnesses. Hopefully, no spies either who might try to acquire it for the Western Empire. I think you came here for the same reason."

"Obviously."

"If you see potential, then there might be a chance to quicken the testing of soul-crystal powered Automata. There are a lot of perished adventurers stored at the local tavern. I am sure we could find more volunteers. The throttle is that Automata bodies are not cheap. In fact, I drained my void-favor reserves creating one more body for Maryn. If the church could sponsor a few bodies for adventurers."

"That won't be possible." For a moment, I brace for yet another verbal duel. But then, the head priestess continues and her voice is strained. Tired even. "This whole endeavor has drained the coffers of the church. This ship. The weapons, armor, and equipment. All that was expensive. We are strapped. More than I am willing to admit. This is our last chance to stop the Western Empire - to save our world - and in more ways than one. Most of the countries ignore or underestimate the value of this endeavor. They rather pump their resources into building armies. If only one- I would sponsor you. Gladly. Even though I think of it as a slim chance to improve things. But I can't."

Shit. That was a novel and a half with the title "This is why everything sucks". So, no support from the church. Not that I actually counted on it. Though I am surprised by the reason. Want to but can't. Maybe the Church Of The Otherworldly isn't as big as I thought. In my mind, I drew the comparison to the big religions of Earth. What if they aren't as big. For all I know, this ship is it. Maybe a few more priestesses in the temple where I arrived.

Maybe I should ask Myra. She should know. Then again, do I really wanna know? What if Maryn and I have been summoned not by an established religion, but a local cult? Is the hero's prophecy about Maryn even real? Well, it did get us here.

Let's table it for now. Those speculations won't bring me anywhere and won't really change a thing.

"I am sad to hear it," I say aloud. "Then there is only one last step. To give the Automata body I have with me to Maryn."

The head Priestess frowns. Not a good sign.

"I am afraid that won't be possible for a few days. She already left for the pyramids."

Brilliant. Just brilliant. And now what? No one invented mobile phones here? Well, as far as I know, that is true. Would be good to have right about now. Hmm, maybe I should try creating some. I have that old one the church handed over.

No, Lillyn. Focus. All eyes on improving the Automata body, remember?

"If she comes back, send her to me." And just to make it crystal clear: "Her having one of my Automata bodies is in both our interests."

"We will."

Well, that is probably as good as I can hope for. Time to leave. With Becky in tow-

"Lillyn!"

Right. Myra. She is catching up to us just as we arrive at the small stairs down.

"You came!"

"Well, I had a little spare time and-"

Uff. Alright. That's a tight hug. Hoped for another kiss, but I'll take it. Damn, she smells good.

Um, anyway. Where was I?

"Without you, I have no one to take a walk around the courtyard."

"Becky doesn't count?" Myra asks with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Not if she is bragging with her skills."

"I merely demonstrated my capabilities," Becky adds drily. "And Lillyn is still very guarded around me and her past. Wouldn't make for good conversations."

Yeah. Still haven't told Becky about my true origin. Maybe later. I hardly know her yet. In fact, the longer I have Becky around the more I doubt what I knew about Nadare.

"Well, I guess you have to come by later and ease my boredom."

"Oh, is it that bad?" Myra asks. Well, purred really.

Of course, Becky was having none of it. Being thrown under the bus. "I didn't know my stories bored you that much."

"They were fine. But you are being a horrible wingman right now."

Spotting an opening, Myra was quick to pounce on it. "Oh, you trying to seduce me?"

"I'll be waiting outside," Becky says as she pushes past us. I swear I saw her eyes roll.

But maybe a little privacy is a good idea. Talk to you all later.

---

A few minutes later, I once again walk into the Lonesome Tavern. Of course, with Becky in tow. It doesn't take long until all eyes are on me. Which suits me just fine.

"Hi, again. Previously I failed to properly introduce myself. My name is Lillyn and I am a void-trader. I am pretty new to the profession but have a high aptitude for it. Previously, I peddled potions at Maynard Mansion. Those, of course, I will offer for sale to you. Sadly, my stock of other wares is rather limited. But at least, I can void junk and gear you don't need anymore." After a short dramatic pause, I continue. "But not right now. I am hungry. This tavern serves food, right?"

That got a few chuckles. Well, I need them in good spirits. And to be raiding the hardened space outside again. I need their business. Their void-favors. Somehow, I got the feeling I will need a lot of those very soon.

Well, to say it has been boring is an understatement. We have been here three days and I hardly saw any business. I mean, the first day was busy. Turns out all the adventurers here stopped raiding the hardened space because they had full soul inventories. That meant, the first day I got to void a lot of junk.

How much? Well, I made about ten grand in void favors. And now you say: "Hey, Lillyn. That's enough for a new Automata body."

Yeah. Would be. If it wasn't for the fact that each time I research an upgrade for the Automata body, the result was not just more powerful. It got more expensive too. And each time I have to switch out the old version to the new version on the research bench. Because that gives the best chances to research more improvements.

So, I have to void the old version and materialize the new one. Which is more, again, more expensive. In the past days, I got four upgrades and the price tag rose from close to ten grand to just above sixteen thousand void-favors. If this goes on, I might run out of void-favors. Which would stop my advancement on better Automata bodies. Not to mention when Maryn finally comes out of the pyramids, handing over my best Automata body to her will leave me broke and unable to continue research.

"Becky is back," Myra is pointing out from beside me.

Yes, most of the time, Myra is joining me these days in my shop. There isn't much to do for her over at the church's Little Swan. Not much to do for me either. Either waiting for customers or meditation. Yeah, I am giving it a try. I think it helps. Well, so far I haven't researched a big boob version of the Automata. Either that means I am on the right track or it helps that I research upgrades to the whole body. If this exponential increase of void-favor value continues, I may need to split the Automata body into its compound parts and research those individually.

Wanna bet that Besona will be tempted to give me a big boob version if I have just the chest on the research bench?

No?

Smart.

"Becky. Welcome back. What bounties do you bring me this time?"

Yeah, Becky is my top supplier. Not going far in, but being fast and deadly, she can acquire stuff easily. Coming back as soon as her soul inventory is full. Grabbing everything that isn't nailed down. Those items and furniture are in surprisingly good condition. I mean Maynard Mansion had been a hardened Space for what? A century or two? And its interior is a mess. The pyramids? A millennia or more. It is hard to guess. Myra tried to explain, but after the third calendar change, I lost the plot. Anyway, the Pyramids Of Kentoshan are old but got caught at the height of their prestige. And no decay so to speak of in the many years.

"I entered the third ancillary pyramid from the south-"

Oh, boy. This might take a while. Did I mention Becky is awfully chatty sometimes? Like the exact opposite of what Nadare used to be? I am interested in the items she brings to void. But no, Becky has to tell a story, describe every hallway and room. Describe in bloody details the foes she took down and-

"Oh, Lillyn. Don't void that one. I wanna try it on."

"What?" I ask as Myra interrupted Becky's story. And my line of thought. "Try what?"

"Weren't you listening? Becky found a complete set of an Orochni Servant Outfit. I dressed up in replicas at the Night Of The Forefathers more than once. But to wear an original. That would be so cool."

Yeah. Don't look at me. I have no clue what Myra is talking about. More Besona weirdness I guess. And why am I always getting offered servant outfits? Can't they, for once, hand me some normal civilian clothes. As in casual and non-descript. That be the dream.

"Fine. I won't void it immediately."

But the expecting look of Myra told me she couldn't wait to the end of Becky's story. With a sigh, I offered my hand to Becky for a single trade.

Holy shit. Eight-hundred void-favors? What's this outfit made of? Spun gold? Or is it normal fabric and it is loaded with enchantments? Maybe a closer look might be worth it. But for now, I hand it over to Myra.

"Thanks. I've got to try it on immediately!" A quick kiss on the cheek is all I get before Myra is practically running up the stairs.

"Someone is getting lucky tonight," Becky says with a smirk.

Wait, what?

"What makes you say that?"

"You've never seen ancient Orochni garb before? I doubt you'll be sleeping much tonight. I know you share a bed-"

"It is not like that."

Listen. Yes, Myra is sleeping over. In my bed. No, we are not- You know. It is just- I told you how cramped the church's Little Swan is, right? Well, turns out Myra has to hot-bunk too. Even my bed used up by two is more spacious. So, it is all harmless. A sleepover. That's what it is. Nothing more.

"Are you sure?" Becky asks with a nod to something behind me.

Looks like Myra is back and-

Oh.

My.

Gosh!

Is that-

I think I've found Besona's equivalent to the Slave Leia outfit. I mean, holy cow, that is explicit. My guess of spun gold was close. Bands of gold circle her. Twist and turn. Split and merge. All arranged to highlight every feminine aspect of Myra. Starting at her neck like an elaborate collar and slowly snaking downward. Mimicking lingerie with filigree details that are still solid enough to hold their position. Encompassing every limb of hers down to fingers and toes.

"How do I look?"

I mean, how can words describe her beauty right now. This is beyond what I expected.

You know what?

I think I need time to process this.

Talk to you all later.

---

"Ouch!"

"Don't be a baby," Myra says with a giggle. Yes, a giggle. She is enjoying this. The little sadist.

"I am not," I say with barely a pout. "But you don't have to pull that hard."

"I wouldn't have to if you took more care of it," Myara says just as I feel the dreaded comb dive back into my hair.

I don't who of us is more bored. Myra or myself. Her, to even offer to tame my hair or me accepting her offer.

"I do comb my hair."

"Once in a rotation?" Myra guessed. Damn, she hit bullseye too.

"It is such a hassle."

"It wouldn't be if you combed daily." To puncture her statement, Myra is even tapping on my head with the comb. As if it was a ruler, me a student, and her my teacher. "You have such nice hair. Thick and luscious. Silky too if you combed it a bit more."

"Fine. I'll try." I mean, Myra is right. I could make a little better effort.

"You know," Myra starts while running the comb again. "If it comes too much in your way, you can always braid it. I could show you a few styles."

"Braids?" Oh, no. "And what secret messages would you hide in it?"

"What?" Apparently, Myra is confused enough to turn me around and look at me as if I grew a second head. Well, Myra probably wouldn't mind that. A second head would mean more hair to comb.

"Well, Essie said braids are a language of their own. She always wears elaborate braided updos and I once asked her about it."

"Maybe where she comes from," Myra says with a shrug. "There are many different regions and kingdoms. Each with their own traditions."

Myra is right. Probably. Or Essie was having a joke at my expense. "If that is true I doubt it would take me long to run into someone who would interpret any braid I have the wrong way. Besona is like that."

"Ah, yes. There is the paranoid Lillyn I know and love. Always thinking a whole planet is out to get her." I mean it is, right? Not imagining that. But before I can voice it out loud, Myra has another suggestion. "How about dyeing it? I mean I don't have a hair color potion here right now, but I think some color might stand you good."

"Want to spread the reign of blue hair?" I accuse her. Jokingly.

"I was thinking more like green? Or wait-" Myra is giving me a wolfish grin. "What about Papush? I bet it would suit you well."

My groan in reply has her in giggles. That deserves punishment. She wants to giggle? Fine. Tickle attack!

Oh, no. She is retaliating. Help. Do something. Shit, why are you imaginary. I could really use some time here.

Wait, who is that?

"I have a customer!" I shout out between gulps of air and laughing. "Myra. Customer."

"Oh, don't stop on my account," the perv says as Myra and I collect ourselves.

Damn, this little tickle fight probably messed my hair up again. More combing it. A win for Myra.

Anyway. I got a customer. One smiling quite silly.

Talk to you later. After dealing with him.

And Myra.

I already can smell Tickle Wars - The Lillyn Strikes Back.

---

"Come on," Myra said with a pout. "I wanna see how you look in it. You got to see me in it."

"I put it on the research bench. Like you asked. So, it is not like I can do it right now."

Yeah, this has been going on for a few bells. Apparently, me seeing Myra in the Orochni Servant Outfit was a down-payment for me doing the same later for her. So far, I could avoid it. I mean, Besona threw enough sexualized garbs at me to grow a bit weary.

Heck, with my luck, the outfit becomes even more revealing. There is not one shred of fabric on it. Just this golden metal. It wasn't even solid for the most part. Thin strands had been carefully interwoven. The resulting braid was surprisingly smooth to the touch. Only in strategic places, it changed to solid pieces. Like joints and connectors.

No. I am not interrupting my Automata research to pander to Myra's whims. My research bench has two slots, remember? One had been taken up by the Automata body. The other? Gear from Awyn. I hoped that maybe some attributes of armor or weapons could have been transferred to the Automata body. So far, nothing. At least, not that I can tell.

At least my catalog of sellable items grows. It resulted in a few sales, but not many. Anyways. I hope putting on the Orochni Servant Outfit on the research bench won't weirdly impact the Automata body. I don't need a more sexualized version of the Automata. It is lewd enough. Did I mention Maynard must have been a pervert? Yeah, looking at Orochni garb I think it is a requirement for wealthy people to be pervy.

Speaking of research. Looks like another level for the Automata came through. Minor increase to the physical attributes and-

Damn!

This new version costs twenty-five thousand void-favors. I wonder how much further I can push it. The increase in power lessens with each level, but the void-favor cost grows exponentially. Still, what I now have should be way above the level of a normal human. And every little bit counts. I need more void-favors.

The junk the adventurers - but mostly Becky - are dragging out is very valuable. Steadily increasing my void-favors. Still, I am not making progress. Whatever I make is consumed by my research. And once I have handed over a version of the Automata body to Maryn, I'd be down close to zero. To absolute bankruptcy. It will be a while before I can hope to continue my research.

It is nuts. Despite having fewer clients now than before, I make more void-favors. Just by the quality of items they drag out the pyramids. But it still isn't enough. I need to come up with a way to boost my income. Maybe I should make the Automata available to the adventurers after all. Get a few of those soul-crystals off the tavern wall and working again. But the increase in revenue might not warrant it.

Apparently, Myra had enough of my contemplating solutions. "Well, how about you model a few other things for me? I'd return the favor."

Nice try, Myra. I am not that desperate. Besides, I don't have a lot to dress up in that is revealing. A few bras and-

A skimpy jumpsuit.

Okay, see in Myra in one of these might make it retroactively worthwhile to have researched them.

"I think we have a bargain."

And I think I'll talk to you later.

---

Good morning.

Why is my chest so heavy?

No. Don't say that is because of my massive breasts. I can't believe I am saying this, but I've gotten used to them. So, that doesn't explain it. Time to pry my eyes open.

Ah, figures. Myra rolled over from her side of the bed. Again. And again, she is using my tits as pillows. Well, it is morning. Her favorite pillow provider has to get up. Check on research and stuff. And food.

Wait, what is that smell?

Licorice.

Guess Becky is back.

"Come on, sleepy-head," I say as I shrug Myra off. "We've got to get up."

"Really?" Stretching her limbs with eyes closed reminds me of cats. "Hmm, something smells good."

Smells good? Becky's tea. Betrail! Oh, Myra. How could you break my heart like that? Well, I guess no one is perfect. Even Myra has to have a flaw.

A yawn escapes me as I enter my living room. And the reception, dining room, and kitchen. Damn, it would be nice to have a bigger ship. Especially since now more or less three people live here.

"Got more junk for you," Becky says while rising her blasted cup of tea in salute.

"I hardly would call it junk."

I mean they drag out table silver. Or gold. Statues and other pieces of art. I sometimes feel bad to void these masterpieces of the ancient past. I could probably sell them for more money in any city. But not for void-favors I guess. And the difference wouldn't be worth leaving. Even for a short trip.

"Do you use any of it?" Becky asks nonchalantly before sipping her tea.

"Well- No. Fine. It is junk for now." Conceding the point hurts, but I better cut my losses. Time to grab something to eat.

Oh, Myra is already pulling out stuff for both of us. My savior.

"Say, Becky," I start to ask just as Myra joins me on the small bench. "I only see you carrying out the small stuff. Why not go for something bigger."

Apparently, I asked something stupid, as Becky is quirking an eyebrow. Looking at me as if I had grown a second head. Still, at least she provides an answer. "My aptitudes are rather small and that's why my limit for placing things into a soul-inventory slot is rather small too."

It has limits? I mean aside from the fact that there are slots. What goes in them has a capacity too? "I didn't know there was a stat for it. I mean I fit a small automatic factory in mine."

Now, Becky is looking downright bewildered at me. Thankfully, Myra is quick to jump in. "It is tied to the largest magical aptitude one has. With a void aptitude of thirteen and your sheltered upbringing, it probably never became relevant to you."

Well, that sounds logical. And my upbringing really was sheltered from all things Besona. After all, Earth isn't right around the corner.

"Right. So, with thirteen, what is my limit?"

Becky gave me a hard shrug. "I couldn't even guess. My highest magical aptitude is two."

"That's not much," Myra said. Before taking a stab at it herself. "Mine is four. I can stow small furniture. A friend of mine has a seven as their highest. He could place automatic carriages into his inventory. I think I heard somewhere that a level nine aptitude might allow you to store a not upgraded Little Mule or Little Swan in its entirety. But for thirteen- That would be pure speculation."

A whole ship she says. Interesting. If I ever don't find a parking space I just can pick up my Little Mule. Just gotta make sure to not void it by accident.

Damn. If I place my Little Mule on the research bench, I could research the blueprint to it. Except my research bench is inside of the Little Mule. If I had a second…

"Becky, I have an idea." Let's pretend I didn't see the worried look Myra and Becky threw at each other. "You know Maynard Mansion pretty well. What would I need to organize a raid?"

Becky is giving me a pointed look. "Haven't you learned anything from your last debacle?"

"I have. Theoretically speaking, if I go back in, I'd hire more people. Like a lot of them."

"Then you need lots of void-favors. Adventurers don't come cheap. Depending on the area you might pay from a few hundred void-favors a head to a thousand."

"Lillyn." Myra is grabbing my arm. A little too forceful. Her knuckles white. But her worried look tells me even more. "Is this really necessary?"

"I think so. My research on Automata is steadily getting more expensive. The last Automata body I put on there were thirty-five thousand void-favors. If this price increase continues, I won't be able to continue it soon. Heck, once Maryn comes out of her deep dive into the pyramids, she'll need a copy of my best version. Leaving me close to broke."

"I think I can help with that," Becky says with a grin on her face. "It is time I stop free-loading this body and upgrade too. I'll buy your most expensive Automata version. Is it still thirty-five or did you research another one overnight?"

"Let me check." Let's see. Two new blueprints are available. "Oh, boy. Yes, there is. Becky, are you sure? Because this one will set you back sixty-three thousand void-favors."

I mean the price tag is sixty. But I am a void trader. I got to put a few percent on top. Just five for Becky instead of the usual ten. I am not a completely greedy asshole.

"Lillyn, I've been dragging junk out of that hardened space for days now for you. Remember, I get to keep ninety percent of those void-favors. Not to mention I didn't exactly start at zero."

Damn. Just how loaded is Becky? Maybe I should have asked her to be my sponsor.

"Alright. If you have it, shake hands with me. I ain't got the void-favors laying around to first summon a copy for you."

"I know," she simply says as we shake hands. Transfering the void-favors.

And just like that, I am kind of rich. Well, for a moment at least. Just a few weeks ago I was happy to make deals for a few hundred favors. With a net gain in the two digits. Now, I sold my first product in the five-digit range. With a cool net gain of three thousand. And I think this might be the future for me. Deals like this. Once the Western Empire is gone, I can peddle my Automata's to every adventurer out there. The market is huge.

"Here you go," I say a moment later. "Your very own Automata body. This one you even get to name yourself."

"I actually like being Becky," she says before bursting into smoke. It swirled around. Mixing and mingling. Now and then Nadare's slash Becky's soul-crystal could be seen. Then the cloud becomes solid again. Materializing as a new Automata. Apparently, one can change bodies without outside help.

The upgraded version looks much the same. The limbs are maybe slightly bulkier. But even her face is the same. Gotta write that down. Research different faces. I doubt everyone wants to look the same.

I wonder where the other body went? Ah, yes. In my inventory. Because, technically, I still own this one.

"Aright. If I void the old body and the one on the research bench, I come to around forty-five thousand void favors. Plus spare change. Fifty. Not enough to start the next research phase. But I can hire a small army."

"Are you sure this is what you've got to do?" Myra asks. I nod and Myra looks sad. "I wish I could go with you. But I am a priestess and my place is with the church. I hope you understand."

"I do. And it will be fine," I say as I place my hand on hers. "Just a quick trip down. Hire a bunch of people. I'd be literally surrounded by a bunch of bodyguards. One small walk into a hardened space and then I come back. I should be gone no more than three days. Becky, you in?"

"Sure."

"Myra." Looking into her eyes, I still see worries. "I will come back. But in the meantime, I need something from you. Maryn should be coming out soon again. Convince your superiors in the church that they should wait to head back in until I am back. Maryn shouldn't leave without an Automata body."

"I'll try. Can't promise anything. You remember that I am just a freshly baked priestess, right?"

"I do."

---

Once again, my Little Mule is on its way. After a short but heartfelt goodbye. Well, I won't be gone for long. But I had a feeling I wasn't done with Maynard Mansion. As if there still had been something left for me to do. Old perv Maynard better brace himself, because I'll collapse his world for sure.

But for now, I need to decide what to research. Can't do the Automata body. Not unless I split it into compound parts. And-

Oh, right. There was a second blueprint finished. I wonder what it is. Ah, that's right. I forgot to remove that ridiculously lewd Orochni Servant Outfit Myra asked me to research.

Alright, Besona. You got me. A new variant of something lewd. You've got to be waiting on that one, right? It has been a few days since the last time you played a joke on me. Let's see what is in store for me this time.

Well-

Interesting.

> Orochni Styled Exoskeleton <
> Fusing modern body enhancement with an antique style yields this extravagant garment. However, this many benefits comes with limitations as it need complete contact to the wearers skin and can't be worn over defensive armor made of leather or metal. The sturdy nature of the Orochni Styled Exoskeleton grants its wearer limited damage resistance. As the exoskeleton relies on a soul for its enhancement features, it requires the wearer to have one.<
> Passive Ability: Strenght Boost. Facilitates and boosts the co-ordination of muscles by the soul. Resulting in an increase in physical prowess equal to an increase of the strength attribute by two. <
> Passive Ability: Endurance Boost. Raises the ability of the soul to replenish and nurture their body. Resulting in an increase to physical endurance equal to an increased constitution attribute by one. <

An Orochni Styled Exoskeleton. Not something I have expected. Must be the influence of the Automata body. Not functioning with leather to metal armor. But provides partial defense in itself and stat boosts. I didn't even know that was possible.

It also says it needs a body with a soul to be working. Not just stating a human body. That means it includes Automatas. Interesting. That implies a few things. The exoskeleton isn't cheap but might be a nice addition. Heck, Maryn might even like the look. Despite being very inappropriate.

Alright.

Research.

I am curious about that exoskeleton. Maybe an upgrade would be nice? And the head of the Automata. Gotta research variants of it sooner or later, right.

Okay. Not much to do until we arrive at Maynards. Talk to you all then.

Bye.

Can my Little Mule's ramp lower any slower? Alright. Maybe I am being impatient. We are back at Maynard Mansion. It feels like I haven't been gone long. But, overall, over a rotation has passed since I left. Now I am back. Not for good. Just to run a little errand.

As I step out, I can see my welcome committee is already waiting. Awyn is standing there with a bemused look on her face. I wanted to talk to her, but I didn't know the need was mutual.

"Awyn. Good to see you."

"Lillyn. What are you doing here?" Maybe it sounded a little harsh to Awyn because she continues in a softer voice. "Listen. It is nice to see you, but did you clear coming back with the guild? Your spot is now taken up by Pa'Ulec. You can't just return and expect they make space."

"Relax, Awyn. I am not here to open up shop." Maybe my disarming smile is not disarming enough. Well, it is not like I practiced in front of the mirror. "Just here as a visitor. A little errand. Oh, and by the way. I've got this for you."

I still see the suspicion in her eyes as she takes a small device from me. But now, it is joined by confusion. "What is this?"

"Me paying tribute to a great idea. Remember your idea to create a device to store and share blueprints? That's it. And it works."

"It really is?"

Now my little portable blueprint library has all her attention. I can practically hear the gears in her head spin, clank, and compute. Time to ruin it. Just a little.

"I still claim ownership of the blueprint to it and expect you to honor it. Also, I'd like you to keep it a secret for now. At least, until I distributed it to the right people. This tech is not to be monopolized. I will give it to Iren, who then can distribute it to anyone in the guild. For a small tribute fee to me, of course."

"Lillyn, this is genius. It will change everything!"

"I hope it does," I say. Not boastful. Normally. Maybe a little relieved. "Iren asked me to find a way to make void-traders relevant again. Able to compete with traditional crafting. I hope this is it."

"It might. Together with that enchantment storage device." Awyn taps the device against her other hand. Lost in thought. But I get clued into her thought process a moment later. "You didn't just come all the way here to hand this to me, right? And if you ain't trading then what is it?"

"Right. Time for an announcement."

Leaving her standing, I march into the small village of tents. There are still many adventurers here. Resting before their next deep dive into one of the areas of Maynard Mansion. A pedestal that might have supported a statue is perfect for what I have in mind. The act of Becky giving me a hand climbing it already draws a few curious stares.

Alright. Time for my announcement.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please? My name is Lillyn and many of you know me. Today, I am not here to trade. My goal is to finance an excursion into Maynard's Wharf. I need forty-five adventurers. Each gets paid a thousand void-favors."

Well, that certainly got everyone's attention. Among the sea of adventurers are faces I know well.

"Lillyn. Lillyn. Lillyn," Dera intones as she steps forward while shaking her head. "I thought last time you learned it is better for void-traders to stay outside of hardened spaces. Granted, more people playing bodyguard is a wise choice, but that many might be overkill."

"Let me be clear about one thing," I say aloud in the campground. Addressing everyone and not just Dera. "I want just one item out of the wharf. Everything else you can split among yourselves. But be warned. My goal of this expedition will trigger a collapse. That's right. All hell will break loose. That is why I need so many of you. I won't leave with less than forty. One thousand void-favors for each of you and the spoils you find."

"This is nuts," Dera says after stepping to the pedestal. "You really got a death wish, Lillyn."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Becky teases her while leaning against the pedestal beneath my feet.

The glare Dera throws Becky is just shy of a killing spell. "Like hell, I will. Can't leave her to a hunk of junk like you, little puppet."

Becky is just giving her a knowing smirk. Well, they have to work on their animosity later. "So, you are in, Dera?"

Shaking her head once more, Dera gives a resigned sigh. "Yeah. Sometimes, you really act like you are all boobs and no brains, Lillyn."

"Wait until you find out what I want from the wharf."

Already, groups are forming up. Arranging in a waiting line. Excellent. Everything's coming together.

---

A bell and a half later, we are on our way. Marching like a little army towards the wharf. Around the mansion and towards a large gaping maw.

"So, what is that item?" Dera asks me before throwing a cautious glance back. Towards Becky who is tailing me. "Has it to do with Automata? Wasn't the miniature factory enough?"

"Indirectly. But, no. I need cash, Dera, and I know how to get it fast." Time to deflect a little. I don't want the real goal of this expedition to be known yet. "And I haven't gotten around to researching the factory. As you see, I managed to get my Automata moving anyway."

"In a manner of speaking," Becky chips in from behind. Startling me and Dera both.

"What does it mean by that?"

"She," I correct Dera. "I might have found a way to work around needing a core for them."

"She substituted it with a soul crystal."

"You did what?" Dera practically shouted before lowering her voice. "Lillyn, you can't just experiment on people."

"She is a volunteer," I say. But the look on Dera tells me she is not convinced. Well, technically Becky volunteered after the fact. "Tell her Becky."

"It was horrible!" Those words make me spin around to the Automata. Color me stunned. But the betrayal isn't ending. "First, she forced me into this body. Now, I am her dress-up doll for all kinds of lewd outfits."

"Lillyn!"

"I did not. Do not. Becky!"

Apparently, my embarrassment is comedy gold. To Becky at least. She is laughing up a storm. At last, she sets things straight. "I volunteered. And no, Lillyn didn't dress me up."

"Just wait until we get back to my Little Mule," I promise aloud. Shaking my fist at her. "Oh, I have some garments for you that you'll just love."

"I think you forgot that I own this body now," Becky says just to irritate me further. "Your chance to dress me up has passed."

"Are you sure you succeeded?" Dera asks with a playful jab in my rips. "Her routine for manners might be broken. Or I could adjust it for you."

Becky, of course, wasn't impressed. "You can try, little Deary."

"No one calls me that!" Sounds like Becky pushed a button with Dera. "Only- Some old guy who isn't here and probably took a hike. Like I told him a thousand times."

Uh oh. Do Nadare and Dera have a past? This might escalate quickly if I don't find something to-

"We are here!"

The shout from the front has the perfect timing. Pushing through people, I catch the first good view of the wharf. Damn, what a sight. The whole complex is like a maw. A cavern that goes straight down. It is roughly twice the size of a football field. The walls are covered in gangways and scaffolds. Beams and girders jut out everywhere and brace, lift or support random things.

From up here, the wharf is a hive of activity. I see the sparks fly of grinders or wielders at a few dozen places. Mechanics run around with material or tools in a confusing way. Like ants in their hill. For me, there is no rhyme or reason to it.

I can see a few projects in half-completed stages scattered throughout the wharf. None as impressive as the large ship that rests in a bay at the bottom of the structure. It is at least a hundred meters long and just about thirty wide. Dwarfing any Little Mule or Little Swan I have seen so far. The behemoth is tall too. From up here, I guess about five stories high. About half the height that the wharf cuts down into the earth.

According to the history told, this is the prototype for the final version of the Little Mule. What the void-traders are using is just a preview handed to the guild by Maynard. Just before the whole area turned into a giant hardened space.

The prototype was never completed and I doubt it will be. If the wharf has roofs, then I don't see them. Over the decades the ship was left open to the elements. And despite being in a hardened space, rain and other phenomena had their will with the ship. What once may have been shiny metal, is now covered in rust. Here and there are parts that had never been finished. Giving the elements ways to spread decay deep inside the bowels of the ship.

This prototype will never fly out of here. But for my plan, it doesn't have to.

"My goal is on the lowest level."

"You heard her!" Dera bellows beside me. Damn, she can be loud. "Cut a way down. The groups take turns. The two vanguards secure a level and then cover the sides until the raid has passed. Then it is up to the next two groups and so forths."

"Who made you leader, little Deary?" I can hear Becky ask from behind me.

Dera was having none of it. "Want me to challenge for the position?" Her question is underlined by her hand resting now on the hilt of her sword.

Before Becky can escalate, I better do something. "Becky. Behave. Lead the way, Dera."

A last glare at Becky and Dera turns around to instruct the groups further. I ignore the chuckle from behind me and get moving. Nine flights of stairs downward don't sound that bad. However, this wharf was probably designed by Maynard. I doubt we can take the straightforward way of one staircase that leads from top to bottom.

And I am proven right just two levels lower. The spiraling staircase we took down had rusted away. Leaving a gap of three floors down. Most of the adventurers probably could make the jump down without too much hassle. Well, not me. I'd probably get skewered on the debris below and die in a heartbeat. Contrary to all these adventurers I only have about five thousand and a little bit of spare change on top as health points.

Nope. The long way it is. Well, I am paying them all a thousand void-favors. They can work for it, right? The next path down is a quarter around the wharf and then we step on a large freight elevator. Not all the way down mind you. Apparently, the contraption is damaged at the top and bottom. And slow to boot.

Gotta wait until the first two loads get down. And while I wait for the elevator to move up again I can hear the sound of fighting below. Behind me too. Actually, all around me. But with forty-five adventurers - and Becky - I am cordoned off well far away from any fighting.

And by the time I am down, all the fighting is done. At least, close by. Two groups are still here. Guarding the elevator and looting whatever they find. As much as I wish to continue right away, Dera is making us wait for the last quarter of our raid to arrive. At least I can spy a bit of fighting in the distance. If that is all the action I will see today, I'd be happy. But I doubt it.

Once our raid is complete again, we move backward again. Just a few levels deeper. Our goal is the same staircase as before. But now we have bypassed the damaged part.

At last, the ground floor. Well, the wharf's ground floor. Nine levels below ground. And here I am again surprised. Stabbing into the rock from all sides are hangars I hadn't noticed from higher up. Plenty of workspace for all kinds of strange experiments. A lot of workers too. Barely any Automata. A good thing as our crowd quickly accumulates aggression from those poor souls trapped in the hardened space.

"Make a perimeter!"

The shout by Dera brings order to the chaos of our raid. Most of the groups line up as a half-circle around me. The wharf's citizens crashing against it like a wave against the shore's cliff. A weak wave. One or two workers for every group of five adventurers.

At last, I am free to move around. Not that there is much space. Most of the floor area is taken up by the large ship. Rusting away in its moorings. Standing close to it - and from below - it looks even more impressive. A behemoth of a forgotten time.

Strange. This one has eight landing gears. The Little Mule or Little Swan only have four. Even the larger versions. What other secrets does this mountain of rusting scrap hide? I doubt I will find out.

As luck will have it, the point we emerged from is close to the nose of the ship. It dips down. I can see that here is the ramp that could be lowered. It is also low enough for me to touch it without straining myself.

"So, Lillyn, we are down here," Dera stated the obvious. "What is the item you want to get or are you just here for sightseeing?"

"I am standing right beside it."

As I turn towards the ship, I hear Dera say "You can't mean-' and not much more. It is time to concentrate on putting this rustbucket of wannabe ship into my inventory.

Putting both my hands on the large ship, I start to concentrate. At once, I feel resistance. One that I haven't felt before. Even when I dematerialized the miniature factory. The ship is resisting me. Worse. I start to get a headache and my limbs start to feel tired.

"What are you doing to my baby!"

The roar breaks my concentration. That and the stomp of metal against metal. Something large is heading towards us. A moment later, a hulking figure rounds a corner. No, that isn't right. A giant construct. But not like the Automatas. More exoskeleton than anything else. I can see some old guy in it. Flint and steel hair and an impressive beard. Dressed in a fine tailored suit like a gentleman, but it was worn down and filthy. Splattered with oil and other fluids. The leather apron worn over it clearly had failed its duty.

The monstrous construct stopped a few meters before our defensive line. "Intruders! How dare you lay hands on my Little Bear! You will pay for it with your life."

To mark his words, the man lifted his arms up and twin tongues of napalm shot up in the air. Just the passive heat rolling over us has some adventurers take involuntary steps back.

"Stay back everyone. This one is mine!" Becky shouted while taking off into a sprint towards that steel abomination. "I always wanted to kick Maynard's ass."

I only follow the fight for a few moments. Becky got this. Hopefully. At least she is drawing Maynard away from us. And now I can finally put a face to the pervert. What? He is one. Have you seen the Automatas? Oh, right. You can't.

Anyway, back to the ship. Once again, I lay my hands on the prototype. What Maynard called his Little Bear. Doesn't look like a bear to me. More like a chunky centipede with a deficit in legs.

Of course, the ship is still resisting me. It shouldn't. My void aptitude should be high enough. With all my willpower I urge it to dematerialize and it just doesn't want to budge.

"Lillyn. Lillyn!" The shouts belong to Dera.

How long did she call out to me? Exhausted, I pause. Looking at her. "What?"

"Are you nuts? It is impossible to itemize the whole wharf."

What was she talking about? I am only going for the ship.

The fuck-

Behind her, I see chunks of gangway manifest again. As if something had chewed it up and now spitting it out again. No, not something. Me. Damn. Why? I only target the ship. Why does Besona think I want the wharf too? It should count as separate, right? But they are locked together as far as Besona is concerned.

Locked.

Damn, I am stupid.

"Dera, I need all the pipes and cables disconnected. And those clamps on the landing gear. I need them gone too."

Kudos to Dera. She doesn't take long to think my request through. "Alfir, Komena, Igbeda, and Lerofsky. Take your groups and decouple the landing gear clamps. Start with the furthest away and work your way backward. Mehsin and Beroll. Each of your groups takes a side. Have your mages blast away those pipes and cables from afar. Stay close, Everyone else, brace for incoming. I doubt the wharf will take this lightly."

The group leaders reacted at once. Gathering their companions and splitting off. Heading towards their respective objectives. With four groups jogging away along the landing gear and two groups starting to blast random bits that connected the ship to the wharf, only three groups remained around me. Hopefully, that was enough. The raid now was spread pretty thin. Something I hadn't planned for. Even Becky was off somewhere. We still hear her fighting, but she must have lured Maynard and his mecha-exoskeleton into one of the hangars.

"The first clamp is off," Dera remarks, just as an unholy scream echoes through the wharf. It is hard to pinpoint where it is coming from. Sounds like it comes from all around us.

Movement suddenly comes into the levels above us. The parts we didn't clear on our way down. Hundreds of mechanics and technicians must have been trapped here as the place became hardened space. Now, all those poor souls are on the move. Enraged. Screaming for blood. It is them, with a voice as one, who make their displeasure known.

"Told you it would cause a collapse."

"I know," Dera snaps at me, before turning back to her fellow adventurers. "Stand firm. Don't let them break through."

As the enemies stream downstairs and gangways, I am reminded of zombie movies. The masses that flood malls and other popular spaces of showdowns. Except these weren't undead. Neither were they slow. The first crashed into those adventurers standing ready with shields. Even they had to step a pace back or two.

Now the massacre is starting. Most of these poor lads had never been strong. Just civilians caught at the wrong place at the wrong time. But there are many of them. For each slain by my raiders in bloody gore, two more arrive.

All that violence is a little bit much for me. I turn to look at those groups who were going for the landing gear, but the view isn't better. The furthest pair of landing gear had been freed. The groups are working on the next pair, but the progress is slow. They too are besieged by enraged workers. Just how many had Maynard employed?

Yes, they managed to decouple the second pair. And the two independent groups are returning. Hopefully, because they disconnected everything. With their number back at the main group, I feel slightly better. Damn, I have known a collapse would happen, but this is more opposition than I have anticipated.

Still, it doesn't look bad. As far as I can tell, none of my adventurers has died yet. A good sign, I hope.

"Two more."

Dera's comment made me glance back and sigh in relief. Six landing gears had been freed. Now, only one pair remains. And this one is close to the main raid. That means both groups can support each other.

It is hard to see because of all the fighting around them, but I think they managed one more.

Come on.

Come on.

Yes.

"Lillyn, do your thing," Dera says. A little too late. My hands are already on the ship. Time for another try.

With all my willpower I command this ship to collapse. To turn immaterial and part of my inventory.

As it starts to dematerialize, I nearly shout in triumph. But it is not done yet. The ship is large and the strain to itemize it is even stronger.

Just a little more.

You can do it, Lillyn.

Uh, oh. I am starting to get tunnel view.

My body starts to hurt.

Come on. Just a bit more.

Nearly done.

I just need to-

---

Ouch.

My head is killing me.

Where am I?

My Little Mule?

How did I get here?

"She's awake!"

The shout is fuel to my headache. Damn you Dera.

Ah, there she is. Beside my bed.

And I guess the shout was for Becky?

"Take it slow."

I still push myself up. "What happened?"

"We were at the wharf, remember? You tried to put that giant ship into your inventory."

"Tried to?" Fuck. I didn't succeed?

"Well, it is gone," Becky says as she comes into my bedroom. Suddenly it is very crowded. "We don't know if you succeeded or not."

Alright. Time to check my inventory.

It is there!

'Little Bear Prototype - Severely Damaged'

"Yes!" I shout out as I sink down in my bed again. "I got it. It wasn't all for nothing."

"Great. I hope it was worth it," Dera says while patting my shoulder. "You gave us all quite the scare."

"How long was I out?"

"About twenty bells," Becky answered instead. "They had to carry you up while all hell broke loose. Even some of the industrial robots tore themselves from their anchored places to hunt you down."

"Twenty bells? We've got to get moving. Maryn might be out by now."

"First, you might want to pay the adventurers that risk their lives for you."

"Right, Dera. Right."

---

Two bells later, all forty-five adventurers are paid. My Little Mule is up in the air and on the way back towards the pyramids.

"Well, now I am nearly broke," I say before taking a sip of tea.

Yes, the horrible one from Becky. It smells bad, but it tastes good. Not like licorice at all.

"That piece of junk better be worth a lot or this might still have been for nothing," Becky added. But then grinned. "Well, not for nothing. I finally kicked Maynard's ass. He'll think twice before respawning again."

"I don't think he has a choice in that regard." But Becky was right. This trip had better be worth it. "Let's see."

> Little Bear Prototype - Severely Damaged <
> This ship was commissioned by a wealthy void-trader family and designed by the legendary inventor Maynard. However, before this prototype saw completion, it was caught within a hardened space. Progress slowed and eventually reversed as the weather took its toll on the ship. What remains is only useful for a scrap yard or a foolhardy void-trader. <
> 1.217.793 void favors <

"One million and-" Becky is eyeing me for my sudden outburst. I mean, I knew a ship of that size was worth a lot. Even as scrap. But this? Way past my estimate.

I'm rich, baby! Got the motherload. This should fuel my research needs for a while. Heck, I might go for a few luxuries. A bigger Little Mule might be nice.

Foolhardy, ha! Whoever came up with that description is a fool. Over a million void favors. Suck it, Besona. This round goes to me!

What was that? A shudder went through my Little Mule. Nearly threw me out of my seat.

"Does that happen often?"

"No, Becky. Not as far as I know."

Something is wrong. Even my instinctive connection to the ship is muted. Alright, Besona. I am sorry. Didn't mean to rub my victory under your nose.

"Maybe there are answers in the cockpit?" Becky suggests.

Seconds later, I am more confused than ever. "The auto-pilot has changed destinations and I can get it to reboot. Wherever we are flying, it is two days away. Shit! Do you think it's the Western Empire? Did they hijack my ship?"

"I doubt it," Becky says after a moment of contemplation. "See the sun outside? We are flying southeast. Away from the Western Empire."

"It's got to be something else then. Got it. I can call someone. Maybe Iren? She is the guild leader of the town I started in." But a quick check dashed that hope. "Blocked."

"What is still functioning?"

We checked everything and the answer is not promising. Everything in my living space - kitchen and bath - and my research bench. We are trapped and hauling somewhere else. Away from Maryn. And more importantly Myra.

The only thing I can do is put something on the research bench and wait.

I guess I will talk to you all once we arrive.

Wherever that is.

Wish me luck.

Or pray.

I think I'll be needing it.

"I think I know where we are going."

Becky's comment was enough to pull me out of my meditation. Yes, I meditate now. Sort of. I mean I concentrate really hard on what research outcome I want. It kinda works. I think it is faster. Not sure if that exactly counts as meditation. For one, there is no way I can get my legs into that pretzel form and for two, you won't hear me make that "ohm" sound.

It's been nearly two days since my Little Mule had been hijacked and we are hurling along an unknown course. With me being shut out of the auto pilot's controls. We know it wasn't by the Western Empire, as our flight takes us roughly southeast.

"Enlighten me," I say as I join Becky in the cockpit.

"Well, that skyline is familiar."

Holy shit! We are flying over a city.

Yes, I visited Tsundore Fields and such. But compared to this, they are small towns. Settlements even. Heck, New York City doesn't even compare. This is wildly different from all the rural areas I have seen so far. Hundreds of skyscrapers stab into the sky. Even more impressive as they are covered in greens. Plants and trees. Besonians really have mastered the blend of artificial with nature.

Right now we are flying casually over the suburbs of this metropolis. Well, maybe the description doesn't really fit. There are parks everywhere and each house - two to three stories high - has extensive gardens surrounding it. I would have guessed we are flying over the district for the rich, but as far as I can see, this style of urban building continues for miles.

"We are in the greater Brocoflour Area," Becky says and then points to the skyline. "Which makes this Brocoflour City. I've never been here before, but the skyline is iconic."

Skyline? It is more like a solid wall of skyscrapers that stretch from the ground to the clouds.

"Impressive, but what are we doing here?"

"I guess that is our target," Becky says while indicating a particular building. It was shaped like someone cut out the lower third of a dozen pyramids, flipped them around, and stacked them. Giving the building large terraces.

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, if I am not mistaken, that is the headquarters of the void-trader guilt."

The what?

Fuck. If they summoned me then I am in trouble. I mean more than just being kidnapped by my own Little Mule. Someone did get out of their way to summon me here. Was that because I raided Maynard's Wharf? It's got to be. But if so, whoever got pissed off at me had to react fast. It's been just a few bells after my raid that my Little Mule was redirected.

Someone tattled on me. I don't think it was Awyn. Maybe the armor trader. Xerestes or what he was called. My replacement at Maynard Mansion is also a possibility. But why throw a monkey wrench after I leave? Not that any of those speculations matter. I am here now, aren't I?

For a moment, I could swear Becky is wrong. My Little Mule aiming to fly past that HQ skyscraper. But a sudden turn dashes my hopes. Now I know why they constructed the building as they did. The terraces are landing decks. Each floor offers space for hundreds of Little Mules. Of course, there is one spot free between the parked ships. The one my own Little Mule is aiming for.

"Well, let's see what trouble I am in," I say with a sigh. Making for the exit. "You can stay or come with me."

"I'll be right behind you." The prospect of Becky following me lost its assuring nature as she added: "This ought to be interesting."

Stepping outside is a mistake. The building might offer hundreds of ships space, but this high up, it also leaves plenty of avenues for the wind to get through. Damn, I should have tied my hair in a ponytail or so. Long hair is such a hassle. At least I don't have to have fights while managing it. How does Maryn handle it? Or Becky?

"Lillyn!"

Wait. I know that voice.

Iren. Of course, she is here. Who better to chew me out. But why drag me all the way to the headquarters? At least she has to fight the wind too as she comes over.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Iren asks as she is close enough to speak without yelling. She even looks confused.

"You don't know?"

"I got an urgent summon from the void-trader assembly. I thought it was because of the rumors around the Western Empire and their latest advances." For a moment, I thought I was saved. But then I can see Iren process the implications that I am here. "It appears my guess was wrong. What did you do, Lillyn?"

Maybe if I downplay it a little-

"Nothing much," I say with a shrug. "I financed an expedition. Everything else you already know."

"I doubt that is all," Iren remarks before continuing. "Let's get inside and find out what predicament you got yourself into this time."

Which is easier said than done. Heading for the entrance meant leaving the safety of the Little Mules behind. Without them acting as windbreakers, it was worse. At last, we make it in. Hopefully, I won't catch a cold because of that.

My hair is a mess and my outfit is thoroughly tussled. Iren looks better. She has some carefully styled braided updo and a tight-fitting outfit. Iren probably knew of the harsh winds at this tower. Of all of us, Becky looks the best. Her armor is tight and sturdy enough to don't offer the wind much surface to attack. But how her open hair is still perfect is beyond me.

Just a few steps in, an attendee is waiting for us. How do I know that? She launches immediately into words. So many words.

"Void-trader Iren? Iren Agastine Levio Langstan? Previously of and born into the void-trader family Benovia. Current guild mistress of trade hub number five in the kingdom of Wexwood. Also known as the town Demole. A donation streak of level three for one hundred and sixty-four rotations and a peak donation of level six."

Apparently, this novel of a greeting was expected by Iren. "That is correct."

Now the attendee is fixing her gaze on me. "Void- trader Lillyn? No known familiar connection. Sponsored by guild mistress Iren. Only one donation of level one."

"I haven't been active for very long." Why isn't she reacting? Oh, right. "That's me."

"And what is that?" the attendee asks as she eyes Becky like a turd she stepped into.

"That is Becky. My bodyguard."

"I am afraid your 'toy' has to wait outside."

"First, Becky is neither mine nor a toy. She is sentient. And very deadly. One might do well not to offend her. And she stays with me. As my bodyguard, she goes where I go."

Swallowing hard, the attendee plasters a fake smile on her face. A pity. With a real smile, she might look pretty. She says "follow me" before turning around and walking ahead at a brisk pace.

Following in step, Iren takes a moment to whisper to me. "She is sentient?"

"Becky's body is that of an Automata. But her core is a soul-crystal. She has all her memories and mental faculties. For now, she is my only volunteer for my alternative Automata bodies. A product I see great potential in."

"Maybe that is why we are summoned?" If Iren expected an answer then she didn't give me time for it. Instead, she addresses the attendee who is hurrying ahead of us. "What is exactly the nature of our summon?"

"Void-trader Lillyn stands accused of infringing onto a hereditary product exclusivity of a prominent void-trader family. As sponsor and guild-mistress it obliges you, void-trader Iren, to provide counsel and defense in front of the assembly."

"That doesn't sound good," Iren remarks to herself. Then, she addresses me again. "Do you have an idea which product they speak of?"

"No," I say lying through my teeth. I mean, I have my suspicion. "I researched quite a few new products. Some with wide-reaching implications. Like Becky's Automata body. But most of these, I haven't even sold yet. A few of them are so strange I'd be surprised if anyone would sell these. Not every research of mine was useful."

After a long hard look, Iren is nodding her head. "We'll find out soon enough."

---

A bell later, we are sitting in a waiting room. According to Iren, one of several. Any moment now, we will be called into the grand assembly. A place where the most powerful void-traders gather to resolve internal disputes. Usually, all prominent families have at least one representative here.

I tried to bridge the waiting time by telling Iren what I researched recently, but she hushed me. Apparently, we couldn't talk without being overheard. Despite being alone in the waiting room. Becky remarked that even with a cursory glance, she had spotted a few listening devices too.

All I got was a quick summary by Iren about the grand assembly. The void-trader guild operates over hundreds of country lines and different laws. That makes finding common ground difficult. That's why they operate on an honor-based system.

The worst they could do is kick me out of the guild. Doesn't sound so bad, right? According to Iren, the guild does a lot for me in the background. They have treaties in place with most countries. Through those, void-traders pay very little or no tax at all. They also regulate who can park at which hardened space.

If they kick me out, not just those perks would go away. Every void-trader would be free to steal my products. As their honor system doesn't include those outside of the guild. As they are viewed as having no honor at all. But probably the worst part is that those void-traders that have been banished, and fail to take it as a hint to retire, usually end up dead in 'accidents'.

"The grand assembly will see you now."

Finally! I don't have time for that crap. Let's get this over with so I can return to Myra and Maryn.

Alright. This is grand. Following the attendee in, we are led into a large hall. Reminds me of the opera. With multiple tiers of large balconies. I would guess maybe three to four hundred people can be seated here. Maybe a hundred showed up. Still, it is a little impressive.

The focal point of the hall is not a stage, but a large podium. Seated behind it are even more people. In the front of it are tables and chairs. Much of it reminds me of courtrooms. I hope that isn't a bad sign.

Iren and I take our seats at a plain wooden desk and hard chairs. Behind us, Becky is leaning against a rail that separates us from the audience. If anyone minds that she remains standing, then they at least don't speak up.

Before heading out again, the attendee has a few last words for us. "The official speaker of the assembly in this rotation is the representative of the void-trader family Macrawes. He will introduce himself first, then the party who called this assembly. Followed by introducing your party. Despite reciting the grievance the speaker is neutral. He will indicate which party can speak and for how long. It is also within his right to give voice to the audience."

I couldn't even nod before she walked away. Anyway, it looks like the judge was down here on the floor with us. Then who are those guys on the podium? The jury? Or maybe just important people in the guild?

The murmur of a hundred people quiets down as a man walks into the room. He isn't much to look at. Certainly not dressed up for the gig. Hopefully, he isn't as long-winded as everyone else around here.

"Welcome to the grand assembly," he starts once arriving in the middle. "My name is Leodd Macrawes. Chosen speaker for this rotation. Fellow void-traders, we have gathered here as the trader-family Ashgan lays its grievance before us. While the family is well known, allow me to refresh their accomplishments."

So much for short. I spare you the details. Apparently, the Ashgan's are the descendants of those who ordered the Little Mule from Maynard. They hold exclusive rights to it. Somehow they also napped the rights to the Little Swan. So, anything that flies is pretty much controlled by them. I've got a feeling I know why I am here.

"The family Ashgan lays the accusation of a breach of honor. A fellow void-trader aims to learn and distribute the plans of the Little Mule ships. The accused in question is the void-trader Lillyn. A recent newcomer to the guild. Her sponsor is Iren Agastine Levio Langstan. Formerly of the void-trader family Benovia. Current guild mistress of trade hub number five - the town Demole - within the kingdom of Wexwood."

Before either of us can say anything, the speaker twirls around. Indicating that a person on the podium with a raised hand was free to speak.

"You call us here for this nonsense?" the older man spoke up while staring at a rather ugly hag to his left. My right. "Why waste our time? She's a baby void-trader. Probably skipped apprenticeship because- Well, we know guild mistress Iren's taste in women."

What an asshole! There was no need for such a snide remark. Just wait you-

Before I can stand up, I feel Iren's hand on my arm. A quick glance shows me a barely perceptible shake of her head. Well, if Iren can stomach such underhanded tactics, then so can I. Just you wait until it is my turn.

"The speaker asks the honorable lady Ashgan to elaborate."

"Gladly," my new enemy number one said, before standing up. "Don't be fooled by her honeyfirn enhanced figure. Behind that lies a void-trader with an aptitude of thirteen! She used this very fact to organize a raid into the wharf of the Maynard estate and stole the Little Mule prototype ship. A clear indicator to subvert my family's claim as the only steward of the Little Mule blueprint."

"You did what?" Iren asked from beside me sharply. Apparently, this was indeed news to her.

Iren isn't the only one agitated. A murmur goes through the ranks of the audience. Taking its sweet time to settle down.

"The grievance has been heard," the speaker Macrawes now speaks up. "It is time to hear the side of the accused."

That probably means Iren as my counsel, but she looks a little shocked. Well, I can fight my own battles. And I think I have just the right idea to turn this around.

"I, the void-trader Lillyn, am indeed of an aptitude of thirteen." And now for the Uno reverse card. "And I accuse house Ashgan of fabricating this accusation in order to evict me from the guild, so they can acquire my blueprints without recompense or loss of honor."

"The hell we did," lady Ashgan shouts out while standing up. Her angered face clearly shows that my plan is working.

"Lady Ashgan. Please be seated and wait your turn," speaker Macrawes says aloud. Then turns to me again. "Those are grave accusations. Do you have any proof?"

"As much as 'lady' Ashgan has," I reply with a generous smile. "Perhaps if I may present my past accomplishments, then the situation becomes clearer."

Again, Ashgan is standing up. Frothing with anger. Good. But this time she has more control. Waiting for the speaker to let her speak. "Lies and deception. Nothing she says will change the facts. Void-trader Lillyn raided the wharf and acquired the prototype. There were plenty of witnesses."

Come on, speaker. Give me my turn. I wanna pummel that hag into the dirt. I have enough of being a bouncing ball for Besona. I have finally someone who wants to square up with me and I am ready to tango.

"The speaker acknowledges Lady Perphin of the void-trader family Antesec."

Wait. Where did I hear that family name before? An older lady - more refined-looking - stands up far to the left of the podium.

"My grandchild Pasus had dealings with the void-trader Lillyn in the past. He attributed her as smart, innovative, and curious. Even if a little naive. In confidence he described some of her earlier products and research focuses. If void-trader Lillyn suspects sinister intent behind the accusation brought against her, then I, for one, am eager to hear what products might warrant such a theory."

Pasus' grandma? Heck, yeah. Without even knowing my plan she played right into it. Remind me to thank her. And Pasus of course.

With granny on my side, more void-traders call out for me to explain. Not loud enough that the speaker has to step in, but the overall murmur of the crowd swells up to be noticeable.

"Void-trader Lillyn. Please elaborate on your claims."

Yes. Time to give the crowd a show. I am not sure if it is allowed to do so, but it is time I step into the limelight. The space between the table and podium. So that everyone can see me and what I am about to present.

"When guild mistress Iren sponsored me, she did so with a hope. That I, with my aptitude of thirteen, could find a way to make void-traders relevant again. With each generation, it gets harder to compete with traditional crafting. Void-trader families struggle to pass their blueprints off to their children and to find time to improve their products. Today, I can announce that I succeeded."

By now it is easy to summon something from the void. Even to have it materialize in my hand without looking at my game-like menu. With a proud smile towards Iren, I show the crowd my portable blueprint library. Turning around so everyone can see.

"This device lets void-traders register and store their blueprints in physical form. The device can be shared. Handed over to a child of yours or a sponsored protege. Allowing them to learn said blueprints in a fraction of the time normally needed. It is called the portable blueprint library and this will change everything for void-traders."

Silence envelopes me. Are they stunned? Do they doubt my claim? Maybe I have to demonstrate-

Nope. Damn, now everyone is shouting. I think I hear offers for exclusive rights to it or requests for licenses. A bit premature if you ask me. For I am not done.

"This second device," I shout into the hall. Everyone falls silent again as I hold up something new. "It is called an enchantment storage device. Placed alongside an item on the research workbench it can either learn enchantments or be used to place learned enchantments on the other item. I haven't tested out how many enchantments one can layer, but I managed to do five quite easily."

A short dramatic break and now for the finishing move.

"Both of these devices require void-favor to use. Not paid to me, but to the void. For myself, I wanted to gift these devices to the void-trader guild. So that everyone could have access to them. As a gesture to Iren - my sponsor - that her faith in me was warranted. But now, I find myself accused. I still intend to share these devices with you. With all of the guild. But now, I am afraid I must ask for a price."

With the hall silent, all eyes fall not upon me, but on the speaker. There is no doubt what he has to ask. As in-between for all of the void-trader guild.

Ah, here it comes.

"Void-trader Lillyn." The speaker falls silent again. I can see him hunting for the right words. He knows today history is written. "If these devices work as advertised then they are of great value. What price do you have in mind?"

"Honor." My word echoes through the hall. Damn, I feel so powerful right now. "I want to register one line of product within the guild. It will be mine exclusively. To sell or license. Honor my rights to this product and the devices are yours."

"You will not get the rights to the Little Mule from us!" Of course, the hag is accusing me again. Standing. Pointing. Sprewing spittle. Even talking out of turn.

"I don't care for your measly monopoly!" I throw at her. No. Don't be like that, Lillyn. Keep your cool. Remain calm. "Speaker. May I present the product?"

"By all means."

"Becky. Please step forward." The smirk on Becky's face is probably enough to know she is behind me on this one. "Some of you might recognize this as an Automata from Maynard Mansion. If that is the case, you are wrong. Only slightly. This Automata body can house a soul-crystal. In fact, it does so right now."

Yes, Becky and I are on the same wavelength. She has opened up her chest and slowly turns around. Giving them a good view of her soul-crystal.

"This body is very durable and can act as an alternative or reserve to the normal human body. What do I mean by reserve? It has the ability to automatically equip if your current body dies. Provided you carry it within your soul inventory. Now, for people like you and me, that is less of a concern. We are not at a constant threat of dying. Adventurers, however, are."

"And that's why I don't care for your monopoly on Little Mules," I now address Ashgan directly. "Your product is expensive and nets you a hefty profit. But your customer base is tiny. At least compared to mine. The Automata has the potential to be a must-have item for every adventurer. And they outnumber us void-traders by a large margin."

Time to direct my audience back to Becky. "My volunteer here currently models an Automata body worth forty-five thousand. And as experienced void-traders know, each progression in grade has the potential for exponential growths in value. That is the real reason I raided the wharf. That ship lady Ashgan is so protective of? Just a piece of junk. But one worth over one point two million void-favors."

That got a good gasp out of them. Ha! Let's see how Ashgan reacts to that.

But my eager anticipation has to wait. It is the speaker Macrawes who speaks up. "Indeed I see why void-trader Lillyn values her product so much. Before we settle Lady Ashgan's grievance, I say we vote for void-trader Lillyn's proposal. The two devices mentioned previously for the exclusive right to research, sell, and license Automata bodies. Everyone in favor, please show your hands."

Yes. Good. Very good. Everyone is in agreement. Even Ashgan. I think this might be over soon. Then I can get back to really important things.

"The assembly voted in unison," Macrawes announces a moment later. "Void-trader Lillyn, the deal is struck. Automata bodies are from here on out yours to govern. By the honor of the guild, so be it."

Time to hold up my end of the deal. Handing over the portable blueprint library. "On it are the plans for both devices. May they both bring prosperity to the guild."

"I am sure it will," the speaker says to me before turning towards the podium. "Lady Ashgan. We heard void-trader Lillyn's reason for the raid. Is it satisfying enough to put grievance aside?"

"If the only reason was to gain void-favors, then yes. It is. But only if void-trader Lillyn sells the prototype ship to us. We pay the baseline plus a generous twenty percent."

Twenty? Damn. If I had known-

"I am afraid I can't do that. The reason was to get funds to continue my research. I had to void the ship to do so. There was no reason for me to hold onto it. At least, none that I knew. If I had known of the possibility of your generous offer I might have held onto it."

"Then my grievance stands," Lady Ashgan says with a smug smile. One I wish I could wipe off her face. "Without handing over the prototype what assurance or proof do we have that you indeed voided it? You could hold onto it and still research it later."

More murmuring fills the hall. Damn, I am losing my audience. I think me handing over the devices buys me enough goodwill that they won't kick me out. But if I don't put these accusations to rest then the guild might still put fines or punishments on me. Not to mention that Ashgan might send assassins after me.

A loud clearing of his throat got Macrawes my attention. "Void-trader Lillyn, what is your reply?"

"I cannot procure the prototype ship as I have voided it. It is not within my possibilities to recreate it, as I do not have the blueprint. I swear on my honor that I don't. I further swear that I do not have the blueprint for the Little Mule ship or any designs to acquire them."

What else can I give them? "The evidence I can show for is not much. I can prove that I have the void-favors of the sale. The one million that are left. Mind you I already used up ninety thousand for two Automata bodies to put them on my research bench. I also spent quite a few void-favors setting up those devices for the guild. But more importantly, I filled one device with much of my earlier designs. It is my intent to repay the favor guild-mistress Iren gave me by sponsoring another void-trader apprentice. Giving her license to sell my early products, but more importantly, buying her a ship."

Turning to Ashgan, I hold up my hands in a non-threatening way. "I know your trust in me is non-existent right now. I suggest I transfer the two hundred fifty-thousand void-favors to guild-mistress Iren, so she can procure the required Little Mule for the apprentice I have in mind."

I look at Ashgan and I am not the only one. Everyone can see that I am as honest and forthcoming as I can be. But will it be enough?

"Lady Ashgan?" the speaker finally asks. Prompting her to make up her damn mind.

The hag's hard gaze switches for a fake smile. "The Ashgan family withdraws its grievance. If substantial evidence comes to light we might renew it."

In other words, they'll be watching me like a hawk. Probably jumping on me the moment I make a single mistake. Ah, to hell with them. I don't care. This battle has been won, but it also was entirely unnecessary.

"Void-trader Lillyn." Oh, what does the speaker want from me now? "You laid grievance in return. Do you still accuse the Ashgan family or is the matter settled?"

"With the assembly witnessing and granting my claim to the Automata bodies, I lay my grievance to rest." Hmm. Should I be petty? Probably not. Maybe a little bit though? "I reserve the right to renew it if new substantial evidence comes to light."

Ha! Two can play this game. You watch me. I watch you. A stalemate is fine enough for me. But if they try anything, they might find out just what I am capable of.

"In that case the assembly is closed," the speaker proclaims aloud. Turning towards me afterward. "Please remain for a moment so we can sketch out the details of your claims and products."

---

Two bells later, I am finally out. Close to my Little Mule too. Just out through the double doors and through the wind. Not something I look forward to. But not yet. I have a few details to take care of myself.

"This device contains all my blueprints for enchanted undergarments and shielded casual wear," I say. Handing it over to Iren. "Once Essie agrees to my proposal, you can give it to her."

"I doubt she will hesitate," Iren says with a generous smile. "Getting a Little Mule and a product line to sell that no one else has? That's the dream. I wish I had the advantage when I started out."

"Well, I can't change the past. But I can pay it forward. Like you did."

"Are you sure you can't stay awhile? It sounds like there is a lot of catching up to do."

"I am already late." Time to come clean to Iren. "I aligned myself with a group opposing the Western Empire. In part, I developed my Automata version to support them. This detour has cost me a lot of time and was entirely unnecessary."

"I doubt it," Iren says while holding up my blueprint library. "These devices change everything. Lillyn, you might not be the hero the church wanted to summon, but certainly, you are what the void-trader guild needed."

"I am just repaying the favor," I wave her off. Yes. I can be humble. Don't act so shocked. "There is one more thing I need to discuss with you. But not here."

I see the frown when I point outside. But after a moment she gives me a knowing nod. She gets what I am about. Out in the wind, no one can overhear us. Not unless they are very close.

Damn, the wind is worse. Feels more like a storm brewing. Even some drizzle is mixed in. Time to get this over with so I can be on my way.

Outside, we hurdle up right where the wind is strongest. "Inside, I didn't lie," I half shout so Iren can even hear me. "I do not have a prototype for a Little Mule or the blueprints for a final version for it. But in the wharf, there never was a prototype of the Little Mule. That ship was of the Little Bear class. I threw it on the research bench. Just for one cycle, because I thought maybe I could research the ship class later. When I regained the funds to do so. But Besona was generous for once."

Now for my second ace up my sleeve. Summoning a blueprint library that I had set aside. "I got it, Iren. The complete functional blueprint and two types of upgrades. And it is yours. Just in case you ever want to dethrone that Ashgan asshole."

"Lillyn, you are really playing with fire here." But after a moment of hesitation, Iren grabs the device. It looks like she is ready to play it a little dangerously too.

When she stares down too long on the blueprint library in her hand, I can't help but add a few wise words. "It is probably best if you mail copies and spread them far and wide. Then reveal it all at the same time. They can't assassinate everyone."

"Oh, Lillyn," Iren says to me with a rather devious smile. "I am way ahead of you."

Looks like I chose the right woman for the job. Her mind is already reeling with plans and designs.

"I have to go now. Time is of the essence. Give Essie my regards."

"I will. Oh, and Lillyn?"

"Yes."

"You are really something else, you know that?"

I give her a nonchalant shrug. "One could say I am out of this world."

After a shared chuckle, we part ways. Iren to her Little Mule and Becky and I to mine.

Once inside, I turn to Becky. "Thanks for your help. Without you, I- Wait. Why are you pouting?"

"Because I could have done so much more!" Becky explodes. "I was waiting for you to say I should demonstrate my prowess a bit. Maybe do some acrobatics or I could have trashed some furniture."

"Show-off," I mutter while rolling my eyes.

I guess I won't live it down that easily. Denying Becky to boast and brag in front of another large audience. But there is no time. We need to head back to the pyramids. Back to Myra and Maryn. And pronto.

And if anyone dares to intervene again-

Well, I think I have enough void-favors for an assassin or two.

"Lillyn. Lillyn!"

"What?"

Can't a void-trader nap in peace? Did I say nap? I meant to meditate. Yeah. Accelerate my research. All that inner peace and stuff.

Becky even dares to answer me. "Something is blinking in the cockpit. I think it is a communication request."

Oh, what is it this time? I already lost over three days because Lady Ashgan had to accuse me of stuff. We aren't even back to the pyramids yet. Close, but not quite.

I thought Besona and I had an understanding now. Ever since I started researching Automata, I don't get these random outcomes anymore. Those that leave me cursing the very earth beneath me. But now there was the detour to the void-trader guild headquarters and it looks like fate is about to throw me another monkey wrench in my path.

Maybe. Before I panic, I should make sure it is indeed urgent. Maybe it is Pasus calling in for a chat? It would be good timing. I have to thank him for talking me up to his grandma who came to my aid at the assembly. Or it could be Essie.

Time to find out.

And the project appearing in my Little Mule is-

Drum roll, please.

And-

Who is this dude? Older guy. Has a bit of gentleman in him. A little bit of Santa Clause too. Minus the big belly. White hair and beard. Both are neatly styled. His clothing looks business style.

"My name is Renbell Afton. The acting guild master of trade hub Demole in absence of mistress Iren."

"Hi, I am-"

"This is an urgent message to all void-traders in the area." Oh, so a recording. No wonder he is ignoring me. "Two days ago, the Western Empire made a surprise attack on the Fiefdom Of The Emerald Vale."

The projection is dabbing a handkerchief against his face. Damn, the dude is sweating like crazy.

"They didn't stop there. As of ten bells ago, they pushed into the Kingdom of Wexwood. I was informed that the Wexwood army is in retreat and the front might reach Demole in as little as a day."

Damn. That's my home town. Sort of. But it is Essie's and Iren's home. The void-trader hub where I started my career as a trader is located there.

"As by prior standing orders by mistress Iren, I ordered the evacuation of trade hub number five of the Wexwood Kingdom. I further urge every void-trader to stay away. From what our army contact says, the chance of a win is slim. Rumor is that warlord Bradford is heading the push personally. Please remember that the Western Empire kidnaps and incarcerates void-traders. Wexwood is lost. Stay away and stay safe."

And with those words, the projection of Renbell Afton is gone. Damn. Should I call Iren? Essie? Iren was on the way back to Demole and is probably busy now. Hopefully, Essie is evacuating. I mean the trade hub had some Little Mules parked in front. Hopefully, that is enough.

Demole is also the home of the Church Of The Otherworldly. Maybe I should call them. Make sure they don't do anything stupid.

Damn and double damn.

I don't have the contact information of the Little Swan they use. All I can do is fly on and hope they are still at the pyramids. How am I supposed to meditate while everything is fucked up? I Gotta try though.

---

"Curse them, they are gone."

My Little Mule is already maneuvering to bring us down. Not that this will do us any good. The church's Little Swan has already left.

"Look. There," Becky says to my right. Pointing through the cockpit window. "I think that is Bertoff."

Right. The owner of The Lonesome Tavern. For a welcome party, this was a little underwhelming. Part of me wants to lift off again immediately. To catch up with the church. But them flying to Demole is just a hunch. What if they flew somewhere else. To be honest, I hope they did.

"Let's see what he wants."

Scrambling outside, Bertoff is already shouting the obvious. "You missed them by a few bells. They waited as long as they could."

"Do you know where they went, Bertoff?"

"No. But they left this with me."

Is that a scroll? Like paper wrapped around a wooden rod? I'll never get used to it. On one hand, Besona has flying ships and skyscrapers. On the other it still has adventurers running around in medieval garb and they use freaking scrolls.

Alright. No time to curse Besona out, Lillyn. Let's see what they left behind for us.

###

Dear Lillyn,

we haven't heard from you in days.
Where were you?
We reached out to our contacts and know that you reached Maynard Mansion and left it again.
However, since then we can't locate you.
I hope you are well and returned here unharmed.

I do not know if you have heard, but the Western Empire is pushing for Demole.
Their goal is the original church of our order.
We can't let it fall into their hands.
I am afraid we have no time to spare for waiting.

If you are reading this and we haven't succeeded, then run, Lillyn.
Run for your life.
Don't let the empire get their hands on you.

Stay safe.

With love,
Myra.

Little Swan #1701

###

I knew it. They have left for Demole. But why is it so important? One old church or temple can't be it, right? Then again, the Western Empire seems to be heading right for it. Cutting their path right through kingdoms left and right.

If it just hadn't been for that stupid greedy and paranoid void-trader family. Damn those Ashgans. Without them, I could have been back in time. Could have given Maryn a copy of the Automata body. And maybe I could have managed to get Myra to stay with me. To fly somewhere safe.

"They're flying to Demole," I say to Becky as I walk past her to the ship. "There is no time to spare."

I am nearly at my Little Mule when I turn back and see that Becky hasn't moved an inch.

"Becky? Are you coming?"

Slowly, she starts walking towards me. But just when I want to shout she should hurry up, she speaks up. "I am sorry, but I am not."

"You aren't?"

"I am an adventurer, Lillyn. Always have been. Always will be. Battlefields are the place for soldiers. I am afraid I can't follow you there."

Right. I see now. It was so easy to take Becky for granted. But I do not own her. Never did. Well, her body at some point, but not even that anymore. She is her own person. With her own interests.

"I understand," I say. Walking back to her. "You don't owe me anything. To be honest, I am surprised how far you have followed me."

"It is interesting and surprisingly fun to be around you. Doesn't really get boring. I would have liked to stay with you. To follow you into new terrain. I bet you have plenty of surprises still up your sleeve. But I can't. Though, if you get through this, I might show up on your doorstep again."

"I hope." But if Becky isn't coming with me- "There is one last favor I have to ask of you. I even pay for it."

Becky gives me a bemused shake of her head. "Of course. Name it."

Another blueprint library materializes in my hand. One I hoped never to pass on. It contains every blueprint I researched so far. "There is a void-trader far up in the northeast. Goes by the name of Pasus. He is of the Antesec family. Please find him and give this to him. Tell him that if I don't make it out alive, then it is his to keep."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Becky says as she takes it. Then it vanishes as she puts it into her inventory. "Stay safe out there."

"You too."

And with those words, our paths split. It is strange how far we have come in such a short time. By now, I can hardly see Becky as Nardare. The grumpy warrior that showed up on my ramp hoping to stash a friend's soul-crystal. Then the awakening as Becky. She really blossomed to life then. Telling me so many stories. Later backing me up in some dangerous situations.

But not this one. I have to do this on my own.

Alright.

Alright.

Sounds a bit more dramatic than it is. Just got to catch up to the church. Hand over an Automata body or two. Then skedaddle out of there. Hopefully with Myra in tow.

Easy peasy, right?

---

Alright. Autopilot is programmed and we are on the way. Time to get in touch with Myra and the church. Maybe I can get them to make a short stop. Give me time to catch up.

How am I gonna make contact you ask? Well, thankfully Myra included the serial number of the Little Swan. That should be enough.

Time to sit down and initialize!

Alright.

Might take a moment.

Come on.

Pick up.

Ah there! Yep, I am in the little reception room where the head priestess spoke with me the last few times. And she is here too. Of course, she is. However, Myra isn't there. Neither is Maryn.

"Void-trader Lillyn."

As welcomes go, this one isn't friendly. But it isn't as hostile anymore as it used to be. It is nearly - what is a fitting word - cordial.

"Head priestess."

"I know why you are calling. We waited as long as we could, but time is of the essence. Before you ask. We can not stop for you, just to give you time to catch up."

Well, that saves me the breath for a few words. Still, it doesn't sit right with me.

"I know the Western Empire is on the move. They want Demole for a reason. What is it? And why does Maryn have to be there?"

Moments pass as the head priestess is just staring at me. Finally, she opens her mouth again. "I can't tell you. Some details are confidential."

"Confidential? Really?" I have enough of this crap. Always staying on the sidelines. Never getting told what is really going on. Maybe if they had been open from the start I could have avoided some huddles. "Listen to me. I have something that can change the equation. To make Maryn immensely more powerful. And to give it to her, I have to follow you into a warzone. And you start with confidential? I want to know. Everything! Or else I turn my Little Mule around and then you are really fucked. Because we both know that Maryn isn't ready yet. Not on her own. And whatever prophecy is surrounding her won't matter a damn. So, what will it be? Come clean or we part ways. Right here. Right now."

Come on.

Don't call my bluff.

Just spill already.

"It is complicated."

Damn her. "Then uncomplicate it for me," I say as I cross my arms. Staring her down. Backing down not even an inch.

She stares back at me. Then to the side. Lost in thought I guess? Her face looks pained. As if she is remembering something bad. Just when I am about to lose my last pinch of patience, she starts talking. Not even looking at me.

"It all started about fifty-five to sixty years ago. Your time scale. That of Earth. Far in the west are the jungles of Ickban. It always was scarcely settled. Mostly tribes. Very traditional. I think that was their downfall. A hardened space formed. At first, hardly anyone noticed. But it spread and at a rate no one could foresee. Within a few years, it nearly swallowed up a third of the country."

I was just about to ask what this has to do with anything when the head priestess fixes on me with her gaze.

"And this is where James Bradford comes in. The biggest mistake the Church Of The Otherworldly ever had made. There are so many other worlds one could summon heroes from, but no, fate gave us someone from Earth. We had summoned heroes now and then. But he was the first we ever got from Earth."

I still don't see the connection. Do you? Then again, there must be a connection. Bradford. I heard that name before. In the emergency message. He was named as a warlord and is closely tied to the Western Empire. But, why?

"Why him? There must be a reason Besona chose him, right?"

"The jungles of Ickban are covered densely in giant fern. Their stems resemble something you have on Earth called Bamboo. Fighting within this environment is tricky. We needed someone who could deal with it. Worse, we needed someone to deal with a whole nation plunged into madness as the hardened space swallowed them up. That's what we ask of Besona and that's what we got."

The last words of her are spat out with vengeance but also regret. Right now, she looks older. As if the weight of the world has rested on her shoulders for a long time.

"Bradford. We celebrated him as a hero," she continues. "He told us that he just came back from a war. That he knew how to fight. To shape adventurers scared to even enter the expanding hardened space into an army."

"Doesn't sound like it worked out."

"It did. Frighteningly so. I was just a handful of summers old when I joined the church. He was praised at every corner from every mouth. Bradford reclaimed half the country of Ickban by that time. Casualties were down to an all-time low. We were winning. But it wasn't enough for him. He ordered the church to get guns from Earth. At that time the weapon was unknown to us and we complied. With those - learned and distributed by void-traders - Bradford claimed victory after victory. But to him, it was too slow. So, he asked us to summon a new weapon from Earth. Something called a hydrogen bomb."

"A nuclear weapon?" Holy shit. Has he lost his marbles? Well, he probably did. Judging by the outcome. Atomic bombs would be absolute overkill on Besona. He could tear through the countries with ease. Yet, he hasn't. Why? Oh. "It wouldn't work. Not on Besona. There are no atoms to split."

"At that time, we didn't know that. Bradford didn't either. He promised us to wipe away the hardened space in one strike. It didn't. Despite having no atoms, the bomb worked. In a way."

"Because the concept worked?" I guess aloud. Truly disturbed I might add. "A hydrogen bomb is one with a large blast radius. Besona translated the concept and spat out an equivalent?"

"Thankfully, Besona didn't translate the concept one to one. The explosion was large. But not on the scale you call megatons. Bradford was furious. He demanded explanations. And even worse, that some void-trader should fix it. That was the wake-up call the church needed. But only a few heard it. My mentor did. A few others."

"What you see here," the head priestess continues while waving at the interior of the Little Swan. "The Church Of The Otherworldly you know is but a fraction. A splinter of the whole. The traditionalists remembered that our church was supposed to protect Besona from outside influences. Not plunge it into them. We acted in desperation. Assassinated some key void-traders - those with the worst blueprint already learned - and fell back to Demole. Where we claimed the first temple and kept it safe since then."

"Why is that temple so important? Its value can't be that high for you to risk Maryn when she isn't even ready yet."

"To the contrary, the temple is the single most important building in Besona. A fortress against outside influences. Besona used to be unprotected. It was like a sponge. Sucking up anything floating around the multiverse that was close enough. Then the church was formed. The first and most important prophecy we ever created limited what can enter Besona. We couldn't cut it off for good, but we could bottle Besona. Create a single entrance."

"The temple." Where not only I arrived, but Maryn too.

"Without the temple, a priestess can - at most - summon handheld items. Everything larger has to come through the portal in the first temple."

"That's why the Empire wants the temple. To summon larger stuff. If the main body of the Church Of The Otherworldly is with the Western Empire, why aren't they undoing the prophecy? Or shift the entrance to a territory they control?"

"They can't." The head priestess gives me a wry smile. "The Church Of The Prophet - as they renamed themselves - are probably trying. But this prophecy was strengthened all the way back from the conception to today. Generations worked to reinforce it and now they will need generations to undo it. Even altering it slightly will take some time."

So, the church created a bottleneck a long time ago. A single entrance to Besona. Then made it hard to undo. The flipside is that the church can't just move the entrance. Else they would have shifted it as far east as they could manage. Now it is clear why Bradford and his empire want to take the temple. But is it worth risking everything?

"I understand the importance of the temple, but maybe it would still make sense to fall back. Maryn isn't ready yet. A delay of a few bells might not make much of a difference."

"Wouldn't it?" the head priestess asks with steel in her voice. "Before we could retake it they could summon things larger than handheld that they still need. Machine guns. Rocket launchers. Flamethrowers. And any number of other things. You Earthers have become very proficient in killing each other. Every item they can get their hands on will be given over to void-traders who research it and then mass-distribute it to their army. And what if we can't take it back? Larger war machines could be summoned in parts and then assembled here. I know of tanks, artillery, and bombers. Each method of destruction they extract will multiply the strength of the Western Empire. Of Bradford."

Shit. She has a point. Individual adventurers might grow strong. Superhuman even. But even they would be near useless against machines of war. A rather bleak outlook for the future. That begs the question, how can one person change everything?

"What about Maryn? How can she take on a whole empire? This isn't some story tale. Even if she gets to Bradford and kills him, it wouldn't undo the empire."

"No. Maybe not. But it would give us a chance." Before I can say anything, she holds up a hand. "I told you that the Church Of The Prophet couldn't summon more than handheld items. But that only counts for prophecies for summoning. They could still influence Besona with prophecies that act here. Directly. It is harder to do, but they have the numbers and dedication."

"They have a prophecy about Maryn?"

"No. They have a prophecy running about Bradford." A deep sigh escapes her. "We couldn't stop it. Counteract it. The details are hazy to make out. But we know this. Bradford can only be defeated by a hero originating from Earth."

I nod. That's why Maryn is here. It probably also explains the animosity I got from the head priestess. An Earther came and started to wreck stuff. That probably makes her hate Earth and everyone from it quite a lot. There is a certain irony. In order to defeat Bradford, she has to entrust all her hopes to another person from Earth.

"Sounds like Maryn can't lose."

"She can. The prophecy says that Bradford can only be defeated by a hero coming from Earth. It doesn't mean Maryn is the one. She isn't our first attempt. Three heroes came before her. They all failed. She has to succeed. If she doesn't, we will lose the temple and with it the ability to summon new heroes from Earth. Then, Bradford will be invincible. And with him, his army. Because to Besona, the army under his command is part of him. He beat impossible odds before. Once, he was outnumbered by twenty to one. Still, he claimed victory."

Now I get it. The church can't back down. The temple is their last line of defense. Without it, everything is lost. Sending in Maryn now is a suicide run. But withdrawing would give Bradford the means to equip his army with even deadlier weapons. Then, Maryn would have an even worse task ahead of her. That doesn't sound like a scenario she can win.

"Does Maryn know any of this? That you are sending her on a suicide mission."

"As of yesterday evening." Tired, the priestess pinches the bridge of her nose. "She chose to go now, instead of later. After explaining everything, we asked her what she wanted to do. Because you are right. It is suicide. The odds of her winning are slim. We brainstormed different strategies, but it came down to the fact that we couldn't let Bradford get control of the temple. With stronger weapons, the empire will continue to expand. In the same bloody way as before. Hundreds of thousands will die. Probably even in the millions."

"I understand." I do. And that's what sucks. I have something in my possession that could change the tide. Give Maryn a fighting chance. If that summons from the void-trader guild hadn't been-

I have a decision to make. One that is similar to Maryn's. Flee or charge headfirst right in.

Part of me wants to run. I don't owe the church anything. Maryn isn't really my sister. We just look like it. I have no responsibility. No obligation.

But Myra-

She was there for me from the first steps I took on Besona. Through her I got compassion. A purpose even. She showed me that my stats weren't complete junk. That I had a promising future as a void-trader.

I owe her everything. And maybe most surprising, I owe her my heart. I didn't come to Besona to fall in love. Didn't expect to. But now, I can't imagine a life without her.

If Myra is standing by Maryn's side, then so will I.

"I'll be in Demole as fast as I can."

"You are a worthy ally, Lillyn. One I failed to recognize in time. For what it is worth, I apologize."

Well, that was unexpected. How should I react to it? Make a big deal out of it? Goat her a little?

Nah.

I give her a nod. One she returns.

And with that, I cut the connection.

There is nothing I can do now. Except maybe research another upgrade to the Automata body. Could be close, but I think there might be enough time left for it.

That means I have to meditate the shit out of that research.

It means I can't spare my attention to you. I know you probably have a million questions right now. Your heads are full of information and worries. So is mine.

Gotta push that down.

Alright. Talk to you all later.

I got shit to research.

Hey, my imaginary audience. Hope you are doing good. Me? I am fine. Peachy. Couldn't be better. Not nervous at all. Why would I be?

That dark grey cloud on the horizon? The one I am steadily flying closer to? Oh, yeah. Nothing to worry about. That's Demole. Yeah, the target of my autopilot. A bell at most and I am there.

Oh, who am I kidding? It freakin' sucks guys. Out there looks like a warzone. Because - let me venture a wild guess here - it is one. I see explosions in the distance and the surrounding countryside looks chewed up by a meteor storm.

What the heck was I thinking? I am a void-trader. This is nuts. I should be far away. Doing a bit of trading. A little research. Mundane stuff. Boring stuff. And most importantly, safe stuff. Maybe Becky had the right idea. The battlefield is no place for an adventurer. And even less for a void-trader.

Calm down Lillyn. It is not like you have to fight. Just find Maryn and hand over the Automata body. Then skedaddle as fast as you can. You can do it. Doesn't matter that you tried calling the church's Little Swan and no one answered. Don't even know where to go. But it is all okay. No need to panic.

Maybe I should go to the toilet. Again. I mean, I already was three times. One more can't hurt, right? No, focus. Here we go. There is the trade hub. Looks abandoned. No Little Mules out on the field. It appears their evacuation had been successful. This means at least Essie should be safe. Iren probably turned her ship around a long time ago. Pasus is safe far away to the north and far east.

That means only Myra and Maryn are left here. Shouldn't be too hard to find them. Right? Right? Sometimes I wish our talks wouldn't be so one-sided. I mean I get that you are my imaginary audience. You listen. Bear witness. Still, some encouraging words right now would be nice.

Okay. Nearly down. Let's talk load out. Not going for my heavy personal stuff. I mean, the tunic and skirt that can make shields are nice but slow. And freakin' heavy. No, the simple version with sustaining enchantments must be enough. Belt and two bracelets for creating shields. I also can summon shield potions on the fly. Shouldn't run out of them anytime soon. Not with over eight hundred void-favors to my name.

Damn, I wish Becky was here. Or Dera and her group. But this time I have to go into the danger zone without help. At least, it is no hardened space. Can't trigger a collapse here. I mean, I ought to do one more sometime. All good things come in threes, right?

No, Lillyn. Focus.

Can't get distracted.

Not now.

Okay. I successfully landed.

Time to sneak out.

No one is around. Good. Might be because of the ash cloud in the sky. Fueled by hundreds of fires in the town. Could be that my landing was overlooked because no one saw my Little Mule. Well, I am not sticking around until someone comes. If so, they better not scratch my paint.

The closest building is the void-trader hub. It looks surprisingly intact. Maybe the Western Empire spared it? They are intent on kidnapping void-traders after all. Good, the doors aren't locked. I was worried for a second. That would be just my luck to run into closed doors, but Besona is smiling at me. At least for now. I hope it lasts a while.

Hmm. I can't remember this hallway. Not that I have seen much of the hub. The last time I was here, I was squirreled upstairs to Iren and then out to my Little Mule. No time for sightseeing. Technically, I don't have time now either. A shame. There is a fresco lining the hallway. I think it depicts the history of the void-traders.

First, I think those are caravans. I see mules, horse-pulled carts, camels, and- Not sure what that is. Some kind of elongated mammal with four pairs of legs. All of these animals are packed with goods and wares.

Hmm, this must be the point they discovered how to trade with the void. A swirling mosaic depicts materialization left of a barrier and dematerialization on the right side of a barrier.

Halfway down the hallway. Artful carving of traders and adventurers. A little further is a void-trader shaking hands with a priest? I guess it is true. The church had been on good terms with the trader once. There is the point where Little Mules were introduced. And I am through. I remember now. This is the foyer I was ushered through on my way to Iren. That means over there is the entrance that leads to the town.

Alright. The town is in sight. And it looks worse for wear. As if someone shelled it with artillery. No, that wouldn't make sense. The head-priestess had insisted they don't have war machines like that yet. Also, the roofs look mostly fine. The destruction is down at the street level. Maybe grenades? Possibly. Or mages. I know all too well how destructive they can be.

Time to decide where to go. Well, not really. I have no idea where the church's Little Swan landed. But I know one feature of Demole. The temple I arrived at. Surely that would be where the church - and Maryn - would make their last stand. Where was it again? Damn, I wish I hadn't voided the map Myra had given me. God, that feels like an eternity ago. Not roughly one and a half months.

They really did a number on this town. It looked so nice. Like the old districts of a European city. The buildings of a century or two old, but modernized with new technologies. Demole had been picturesque once. Now I regret rushing through it. Back then I had been angry at the church. Now I am heading back to save them. Well, maybe not that. But to give them a fighting chance.

I think I remember that park from-

Shit. Soldiers!

I guess from the Western Empire. Wait, why do those olive uniforms look so familiar. Like I have seen them before. They could have been from Earth. That's for sure. Only those leather panels on their chest and tights pay tribute to the fact that they go to freaking war against sword wielders and other melee participants.

What are they doing? Are those soul-chargers? Makes sense. They store their fallen until they can be revived later. That must cost a fortune in soul-flakes. They might have about a hundred of those soul-chargers and a good chunk is filled. And beyond is-

Holy shit. It is a mountain. A mountain of soul-crystals. There must be thousands of them. Even more are arriving. Soldiers carelessly throw new ones on the pile. Those can't be all from defenders of Demole. Which means- Civilians. A lot of them. I doubt the empire will revive them. They have to helplessly watch as their town is ransacked while their own crystals run out of energy. And at the end, they expire. Not a nice way to go.

Bastards. Those goons from the Western Empire can rot in hell. If only I could do something. Maryn can. Provided she wins. Yeah, I should get a move on.

Be stealthy Lillyn. Down this alley. Good. No one here. Quiet like a cat stalking its prey. Let's turn that way. Gotta keep quiet. I am invisible and- No, not really. And I know I am rambling, okay? This is stressful. You have no idea how much. And I don't dare make a sound out loud. So, internally it is. Which means you, my dear audience.

God damn, what is that smell? Are those corpses? I am pretty sure this is the street to take to the temple. A bad sign then that it looks like it was heavily fought over. If no one remains, but corpses, does that mean the defenders or attackers won?

No soul-crystals. They probably have been gathered. Everything else is still here. Even guns. A lot of them. Should I take one or a pair? I mean I suck at fighting. Don't get me wrong. But squeezing a trigger I might do.

Alright. I'll grab- Those over there. They still look functional. Should I continue as is? If there are still defenders out there, they might mistake me for an empire loyalist or so. Better put them in my soul-inventory until I need them. Please, Besona. Please. Please. Please. Don't make me need them.

Time to move on. Ducking low and sprinting forward. Hopefully, I don't fall over the hem of my own skirt. It shouldn't be far from the temple now. I think that spire behind that building belongs to-

"Freeze!"

Darn it. Whoever shouted that got exactly what they wished for. I don't think moving would do me any good. Can't even see whoever caught me.

"Stand up and turn around slowly."

I do as told. What else is there to do? Darn it, soldiers from the Western Empire. I asked you for a favor Besona and this is what I got? Can't you - for once - be on my side?

"Damn, boys. What a prime catch. Let me guess. You worked at the local brothel. Couldn't wait for the victors to visit you so you came out?"

"I'm not-" Shit! Think, Lillyn. Think. Can't tell them I am from a brothel to throw them off track. Who knows what they would do to me. Can't say I am a civilian either. I've seen what they do to bystanders. They'll throw my soul-crystal to the rest on the pile in the park. I guess there is no other choice. "I am a void-trader."

"A void-trader? You?" That stupid asshole and his gang of thugs are laughing in my face. Asshole. "I don't think so."

"You think just about anyone could afford as much honeyfirn as I have?" Cupping my assets to emphasize my point. Yes, I hate to do so. But what else do you want me to do here? "Listen. I just partied hard a little. Lost track of time with the help of some substances. Didn't know there would be a full-blown invasion going on while I was out. Can't you let me slip out? I'll give you good deals later. Promise."

"You really are a void-trader?" Head goon asks. Scratching the stubble of his crew cut under his helmet. I guess militaries are all the same no matter from what world. Or- Right. Supervillain Bradford is from the military on Earth. Guess he dragged a few habits to this new world.

"Pretty much all my life here on Besona." Hey, not even a lie.

"Oh, pretty. You are really breaking our hearts here, babe. We wanted to have some fun." For a moment, I am relieved. Dud is turning around. But then motions for his subordinates. "Grab her. All persons of interest - that includes void-traders - are to be taken to the theater. Orders by lord commander Bradford personally."

The troop is mewling their displeasure. Lucky them, for I dare not to voice mine. This is not going according to plan. None of this. If the empire is sweeping up, I am probably too late. Has Maryn already lost? Revealing myself as a void-trader was a risk. Yeah, I didn't think they would let me go. But I suspect they had orders like these. Live to fight another day, right?

"Cheer up, men. There is a bounty for every trader bring in alive."

---

So much for reaching the temple for a simple little delivery job. Should have known it all turns to shit. Now I am herded to the theater. On any other day, I might have appreciated the building. Sort of like an amphitheater, but with intricate girders that act as roof and hold up canvases.

The room is lit with hundreds of torches. Giving it an oddly medieval feel. Strange, as I can see normal lamps placed throughout. About half of the seating is already filled. Civilians in all kinds of colorful garb. The stairs and stage are lined with more military goons.

Wait.

There.

In the front row. I know those robes. It's the church. Where is Myra? Come on. Where are you hiding? Please be there. Not on a pile outside. Show yourself, Myra.

Is that-

Blue hair poking out of a hood. Yes, she is alright. As far as one can count being taken hostage by an egomaniac and his army. I need to get to her. Maybe she knows where Maryn is. If she isn't dead already. Still, if I can get my hand on her soul-crystal, things could turn out alright.

"Not down there, doll," my captor says before shoving me into one of the upper rows. Taking a seat beside me. "Believe me, you don't wanna be down there."

If my glare of death and utter loathing perturbs him, then he doesn't let it show. Yeah. I know. I am not the most imposing person. What can I do now? I have automatic pistols in my soul-inventory. Not that they could do me any good there. There have to be over a hundred soldiers in the theater.

Some ass down there blows in a god-damn trumpet. Asshole. It was so sudden it made me twitch.

"Stand for our glorious leader! Lord Commander James Bradford."

I have no choice as the jerk beside me pulls me up with him. Below me, a few of the civilians do the same. But many remain seated. All from the church too.

"I said stand up!" Oh, no. He wouldn't. The man has pulled his gun out and- He's firing. Into the crowd. Just blindly in. How sick can someone be?

Some of the soldiers now go through the ranks of terrified spectators. Now and then tossing something to the middle. Soul-crystals. They all land on or around a small pile of other soul-crystals. As messages go, this one is loud and clear. Though all I can get out of it is that the Western Empire is a bunch of assholes.

"See?" a smarmy voice from my right reminds me of my captor. "Aren't you glad you don't sit down there?"

"Better!" the man down on the stage shouts while reloading his gun. "Now, behold! The lord commander!"

What the fuck is that abomination? That dude is nearly two and a half meters tall. Brimming with muscles any bodybuilder would be jealous of. Dressed in an olive green dress uniform with way too many medals and ribbons on. Somehow the head doesn't quite fit. He looks handsome. Even to me and I am not into dudes. And somehow he even makes the buzz-cut working for him. Black hair and salt and pepper beard stubble. And through it shines the youth of a twenty-something.

But if that is Bradford, he must be close to seventy or eighty. The bulk, youth, and sheer physical charisma. It can only mean one thing. Lots and lots of soul-flakes were spent at a soul-guide. How else can this be explained?

Shouts fill the room. All the soldiers are voicing their enthusiasm. Most of all, the dick beside me. As if he wants to deafen me with his shouts. They rattle their weapons too. At least those few that don't carry pistols and holding swords or spears instead.

"Soldiers! Brothers in arms! We are victorious!" Just a few words by Bradford and the crowd goes wild. Well, his Western Empire goons. Me, personally, I wanna gag. I doubt I am the only one.

"Demole is ours and with it, our church returns to its rightful home!" Just to underline his words, Bradford is pointing to- Are those priests in a camouflage pattern? What? That doesn't even make sense. How nuts is this? I feel like I slipped, hit my head, and woke up in a cheesy B-movie of the eighties. I mean, come on. I can't even blame Besona. It's all the dictator parading around on the theater stage. Puffing up his chest as if the world belonged to him.

"The heretics are defeated!" He is pointing at the priests and priestesses in the first row. No surprise there.

"But there is one last detail to attend to. The last feeble attempt of the heretics to stop us. Their champion. A so-called hero."

There is Maryn. She looks bloodied. Tired too. Bound in ropes and iron. Dragged onto the stage like a caught animal. But she doesn't look beaten. I can see the fury in her eyes. Even from up here. If I can get to her and-

"Sit back down!" I hear from beside me as I get yanked down again. My subconscious act of standing up rudely interrupted. "The heretics' champion is not worthy of praise or honor."

Damn. I need to get to her, but there is no way. Not just the rude asshole beside me, but dozens of soldiers line the path down. I'll never make it down there.

"Set her free!" Bradford commands. Loud enough that his voice is booming even on the upper ranks. "Give her health potions and her gear."

What is he up to? The soldiers are obeying at least. Freeing Maryn. Yeah, she looks conflicted. Hesitant too. This has got to be a trap. Then again, Bradford could have executed her on the spot. Why didn't he? Maryn looks cautious. Still downs the health potions. I can understand her reasoning. Whatever Bradford has planned, it probably wouldn't involve poisoned potions. Her gear looks alright too. Damn, for all my talk, I didn't provide a single piece of enhanced gear to Maryn. Not even something from my older research. Shit. Should have given her what I had when I had the chance. Now, it might be too late.

"Let's see how well she fares against me!" Bradford shouts. Then points to a banner carrier. No, wait, that is no banner. Those are soul-chargers on a pole. There are already three soul-crystals on it and space for one more. "Or will she end up like the champions before her?"

Wait. Those are the heroes summoned before her? But they have been summoned with roughly a decade between each of them. Does that mean they have spent all the time on that pole? Reduced to a state of seeing and hearing, but utter helplessness. For decades? They are even denied the true death. What a maniac. This isn't humane. If he is capable of such cruelty, what else has he done?

Woah. Maryn lost not a single moment. As soon as she had her sword in hand, she cut down the soldiers framing her in one strike and lunged for Bradford with the next. Cutting whatever theatrics Bradford had in mind before their duel short.

But she missed. Somehow Bradford still managed to evade. Despite the surprise on the side of Maryn. Or the bulk of flesh he has to move. Dancing away from Maryn and evading each strike. Laughing like a maniac. Maryn is good. That much I can tell. That Bradford can dodge like that- His stats must be high. Like way up there. Myra said stats for heroes usually start at sixteen and reach up to twenty. But that was before Bradford had spent decades on Besona. How high is he now? Above twenty? Probably. That is not a good sign for Maryn.

Maryn is swinging her buster sword like crazy. That thing must weigh a ton as wide as the edge is. Maybe a slimmer blade would have been better for her. Maybe there are enchantments on it that require the bulk and material? I certainly hope so. Still, Bradford manages to escape time and time again. Sidestepping, ducking, or even freakin' jumping over Maryn's blade.

He is playing with her. I have no doubts about it. Maryn probably neither. But what can she do? Yes. She is falling back. Reevaluating. Catching her breath.

"A nice warm-up round, right?" Bradford gives her a nasty grin.

For a moment, his arms blur. Shots ring out throughout the theater. He is dual-wielding pistols. Where did they come from? He couldn't have summoned them from inventory. That takes longer. A hidden holster?

Thankfully, Maryn had turned her sword to the side just in time. Now I see why the blade is so thick. The side profile makes for a nice shield. Every shot ricocheting away.

Asshole can't even use Besonian weaponry. Has to cheat by using pistols.

Now Maryn is on the move again. She has no choice. Bradford is on the offense. Every time Maryn settles in a defensive position, he tries to sidestep her sword. Giving off single calculated shots.

There. Maryn stumbles but catches herself. I can see her wince from up here. Is that blood on the ground? Bradford scored a hit. Maryn is recovering quickly. Stepping back. Swinging around. More blood. Another hit by Bradford.

A slight stumble is all it takes. Bradford is using it for two quick shots. Maryn's blade tumbling to the ground. Just a second later, Bradford has a gun trained against Maryn's temple.

"I expected more," Bradford gloats. "And now the heretics' champion falls."

Maryn's hateful glare abruptly cuts off as a single shot rings out. No matter how many health points one got on Besona, it looks like getting their brain blown out is instant death.

Now what? With Maryn dead, what hope is there? What am I supposed to do now?

Meanwhile, Maryn's soul-crystal emerges. Only to be picked up by Bradford. "Not much of a trophy, but I guess that completes the set. Put her to the others." And with that, he throws the soul-crystal to the bearer who parades the soul-crystals of previous Earthern heroes around.

This makes me angry. The hubris. The sheer disregard for an enemy. The complete lack of honor. I barely knew Bradford before, yet I already want to strangle him with my own hands.

"Now you see," the herald of before proclaims as he steps onto the stage. "The champion has fallen. You placed all your hopes and dreams in the smoke and mirrors of heretics. But the lord commander is merciful. Repent and reject your false ideology and you will be spared. Bring forth the first sinner."

While Bradford takes a seat in what I only can describe as a throne, two soldiers drag forth a victim. I know her. It's the head priestess of the church.

"Do you repent?"

The head priestess spits at the herald and then turns to glare at Bradford. "Never. Your so-called lord commander is cancer that eats at Besona and-"

A single shot from behind and she falls. I never liked her. Probably because we got off on the wrong foot. Now, I understand her more. Still, she could have been nicer. But despite all that, she didn't deserve the end she now got. Her emerging soul-crystal carelessly tossed onto the pile of other rejects.

"Next!"

The next priestess is dragged forward. I think I know where this is going. Shit! Myra. Just a few more and it will be her turn. How will she react? Will she bow before them and live or stand firm and die?

I know one thing: I don't want to find out.

"I challenge you to a-"

I don't come further in my declaration as I am being yanked back down. Damn, I have enough of that asshole beside me. A pompous ass with the same overinflated ego as the dictator they worship. Time to end this. It only takes a few seconds. To materialize one of the two guns from my soul-inventory. Behind my back, of course, so mister shit-for-brains won't see it coming.

My stats might be shit compared to others, but even I can't miss on this distance. The dude has barely time to widen his eyes in shocked recognition when I blow his freaking brains out.

If my half-finished shout didn't draw everyone's gaze, then the shot that echoed through the hall has done the trick. Now, before anyone of those peons of soldiers can do something stupid, I have to act.

"I. Said. I challenge you to a duel."

Apparently, me staring Bradford down lacks a bit of intimidation. But has that dude to laugh? Urg, hate that guy.

"Ah, yes. The decoy sister." More laughter. This time picked up by the soldiers around me. "And why should I humor a little void-trader like you? I admit the church and you had some of my subordinates fooled by your deception. Not me. I saw right through it."

"Did you?" Now it is time to bluff the shit out of this. "Your overconfidence led you to believe something fundamentally wrong. Maryn isn't the only one from Earth. I arrived before her. Why summon one hero from Earth when you can go for two."

More laughter. Can't that asshole take anything seriously?

"I did not see that coming. Bravo. So, not a void-trader I take it?"

"Oh, I am a void-trader, alright." Time to get down there. Not to my right. Don't wanna crawl over dead dude. Might even slip and fall. No can do. To the left it is. Down the stairs. But I got to keep Bradford off balance. Time for a sick burn. I hope. "As a void-trader I got pretty good at sending trash to the void. And that's all that you are to me. Trash."

No applause? Wasn't my burn that sick? No, must be the audience. Not you, the imaginary, but the real one here. I doubt the soldiers are rooting for me and the gathered civilians look too cowed to act on it. A shame.

"Brave words." Bradford is giving me an insincere smile that I want to wipe off his face. "But you all still just a trader. What can you do?"

"I guess you have to accept to find out," as I step off the stairs. Making for the stage that only Bradford and his loud-mouth goon occupy. Maryn's and the priestess's body already dragged out by soldiers. Only their spilled blood remains. This makes me so angry. Luckily for me, I am about to act on my anger.

"You know what? Fine." Bradford gives me a shrug and turns to his audience as if he told a joke. He doesn't get it yet. But soon he will. Jokes on him. But first, I guess he has to finish his monologue.

"I mean, you surprised me once. Maybe you do it twice and give me an actual challenge. Take you best-"

A shot rings out. Mine. Yeah, don't know about you, but I got tired of his pompous speech real quick. Figured a quick shot might be worth it. Right between the eyes. Except, I missed. Damn, that bastard is fast.

Time to summon my second pistol and do some damage. What do you reckon? Bullet storm from afar? I doubt that will work. He'll just evade again and I will run out of bullets sooner than later. No, I have to get close. Get him in a position he can't escape.

I might be able to do so. His ego is too big for his own good. Bradford hasn't even lifted his own guns up. He will be playing with me. Just like with Maryn. That will be his downfall. The hubris of his. All I need is to get close.

I take a shot with my right gun. Bradford evades left. As I expected him too. With my left, I already aimed ahead. Leading my next shot. Which misses. Of course. For being a mountain of a man, Bradford is surprisingly nimble. Was the quick exchange for nothing? Nope. I got three steps closer.

"Ah, not bad."

Three more shots. Left first. I thought he would evade right. Didn't. One bullet wasted. And my quickly send after shot to the left missed too. Still, four steps closer.

"Good thinking. But I am too quick for that."

Oh, shut up dude. I am trying to kill you here. Need him back to the wall. Not left. I shot again. Left gun. Right gun. Repeat. Aiming at purpose slightly to the left. He evades right and has to keep going as I send shot after shot. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

"That won't help you."

Didn't it? I got him in the center of the stage. Also got five steps closer.

More shots. He dances back. Pirouetting. As if this was a dance. Maybe it is to him.

"There is potential, I admit."

He tries to break out to the left. I cut him off with two quick shots.

Two steps closer.

"But there is something-"

Breakout to the right. Averted by three more shots.

Another two steps.

"That I teach my soldiers early on."

It takes more shots to stifle his next attempt. Which is fine. I am closer.

In fact, I am right before him. My right gun only a handspan away from his face. Time to end this.

"To count bullets, my dear."

I pull the trigger and know what to expect. Yet, there is only empty clicking. He is right. I am out of ammo. But I have two guns.

As I bring my second gun to bear on him, the pit in my stomach deepens. I pull. It clicks.

"This has been fun."

Bradfords arm shots up. Grabbing me by the throat and lifting me up.

"But as amusing as it had been, it is time to end this."

"Lillyn!" The shout makes me look to the side. Myra has stood up. Trying to push towards me, but she is held back by her fellow sisters of the cloth.
"Don't worry." I give her the best reassuring smile I can manage. "It is impossible for me to lose."

Then I hear bones breaking.

A sharp pain in my neck.

And this is how I died. Again.

Did I mention that dying sucks? No? Well, it does. I mean, this is only my second time, but I can see a trend forming. There was pain, yes. Nearly unbearable. But what makes my death suck this time more is not the death itself. It is to see Myra collapsing close by. Sobbing uncontrollably. My death caused her pain and for that, I am truly sorry.

I can see her. As I am floating disembodied over my tossed aside corpse. Helpless and unable to do anything. For example, I'd wish to wipe that smirk off Bradford's face. Or that of his herald, as he steps to my body. I know what he is waiting for here. And there it is. My soul-crystal emerges.

"What should we do with this one?" he asks the overblown meatbag in charge as he grabs my crystal.

"She wasn't even worth calling a champion." Bradford looks honestly disappointed. "Fierce for a void-trader, but she still is just that. A trader. Toss her to the rest of the rejects. I doubt we can win her to our cause."

"As you wish, Lord Commander." Casually, the herald tosses my soul-crystal past his boss. To the pile of other civilians who defied the empire.

Yet my crystal never arrives there. Mid-flight, it suddenly stops. Starts to float higher. Material appears around it. Manifesting into a body, clothes, armor, and a big ass sword.

"My lord-"

The words of the herald cut off. As if the world around me freezes in time. No, that is not quite right. Everything is slowed down as I am reborn in an Automata body. My movement feels like being stuck in thick molasses. Barely making any progress.

But I don't need much. I am still close to Bradford. There is still a chance. What? You think I only wanted to get close to him to sink a bullet in his skull. I have to admit, it would have been nice. But I knew my chances were slim for it to happen. And let's be real here, my fleshy body has garbage stats. At least for every physical aspect.

The Automata body is the ace up my sleeve and I had one kitted out for Maryn. All the armor of her backup kit she left with me. And, of course, the buster sword. Becky mentioned an equip-on-death feature and I later looked it up. It was really there. At least, in theory. I couldn't really test it out before. So, it was a gamble to rely on it for my plan.

Speaking off. I shouldn't zone out. Bradford is within reach. Luckily, my body is already in the right position to cleave into mister wannabe-dictator right here. All I have to do is aim the blade a little more and split that asshole's skull.

Oh, no. No. No!

How is he reacting? Bradford's eyes spotted me. Even in slow-mo or bullet-time or whatever that is. And he is on the move. My blade is barely a handspan now away and Bradford is evading. Come on. Just a little more.

Missed his head. The blade is barely going past the ear. But not all is lost. I might have missed the skull, but it looks like I can still hit him.

There! The edge of my sword caught him in the shoulder. Slowly sinking deeper despite the sudden resistance. Down. Further down. My sword exits just below the armpit. Neatly cutting of Bradford's left arm. It is not an instant win, but heck, I'll take it.

Still falling, it is too late to adjust my swing with the sword any further. Making me miss his legs and impact with the ground. Wow. My blade left a surprisingly deep cut on the stone floor.

Time to pull my sword up and push my attack. That is getting easier as time speeds up again. Whatever this was that had me live in slow motion is disappearing.

Ouch. Bradford is fast. A quick kick to the rips makes me stumble a few steps back. Opening up the space between us. It gives me a brief moment to see what I have done. A severed arm on the ground and blood spatter around it. Bradford clutching the wound where once, only a few seconds ago, had been a limb. Strange. It doesn't bleed as much as I had anticipated. In fact, I can see it slowly dying off. Is Bradford's healing ability that good?

There is only one solution.

I lunge for Bradford again. Taking a wide swing. To my surprise, a body jumps in the way. The herald. For a moment, I had forgotten that ass existed. No matter. My blade cuts neatly through his body. Not even stopping for the spine. Damn, either this sword is sharp as heck or my Automata body is really freakin' strong.

Of course, the damage is done. Delaying my blade enough so Bradford could evade. Nearly. I still caught him. The tip of my blade slicing an inch deep into his belly. As I turn my sword around, Bradford takes a few steps back. Or tries at least. Guess who's back is against the wall now? That's right. I love it when a plan comes together.

Shit. Jumped over my blade. Why does Bradford have to be this god-damn mobile? Well, nothing another well-placed swing with my sword can't fix.

Damn. Got to retreat a few steps and deflect bullets. I don't understand. One moment Bradford is clutching his grievous wound and the next he has a pistol in hand again. Squeezing off shots so fast that I have barely time to react. No doubt this display of skill would have made my original body an imitation of swiss cheese.

But my Automata body is fast. All physical stats between twenty-two to twenty-five. Giving me the edge I need to turn my blade and deflect his shots. Despite my successful counter, I can't say we are evenly matched. Just the speed Bradford acts hints at even higher stats.

There. He stopped shooting. Time to go into the offense again and-

Oh, that sucker held a bullet back. Caught me in the stomach. It hurts a lot. Even though I have an Automata body now. Nevertheless, I am not out of this match. This is but a scratch.

Raising my blade high, I go for a downward sweeping attack. Just like the on strike that lost Bradford his arm. I expected him to evade, but he surprises me with a kick against my sword which deflects it to the side. What he didn't expect is me letting go of it and bridging the space to him in a split second.

Time to pummel him with my fists. Alright. Bradford is good. Avoiding most of my strikes, but I still hit plenty. Feeling his flesh dent under the impact of my fists. Even hearing his rips fracturing or breaking.

There. He stops trying to deflect my blows with his one remaining arm. I think I know what comes now. Time to retreat and summon.

Just in time. Materialized a new copy of the buster sword barely before the first shots ring out. I even deflected most of them, but burning pain in my left thigh and right biceps tell me I didn't escape unscathed.

When he stops raining bullets, I fake leaving my defense. Just to armor up and catch two more bullets with my wide sword. Did he really think he could catch me with the same trick twice?

Time to advance. Sword held like a tower shield. Blocking most of my body like a tower shield. Yet ready to swing. Slowly inching closer again.

There. Bradford is trying to break out to the left. Time to-

Shit, it was a feint. Reversing direction and breaking out to the right. Worse, he got two more bullets into my side. Damn, that hurts. Then again, he is throwing his gun aside. What? Out of bullets?

Before I can intercept him, Bradford rushes to the soldiers who line the stage. Now, I've lost him. I had my chance and-

What's that? Ha! The soldiers won't let him pass. Aww. Did mister dictator create a warrior society with honor-based ritualized combat? Is he now trapped in a situation of his own making? He probably could break out by force, but then what? The invincible lord commander fleeing from a single woman? That's gotta be a chip in his armor of honor and prestige.

No, instead, he steals a pistol and twirls around again. Sending more lead my way. Shit. He got my left leg good. Don't even know how many times. Hurts like hell though.

Worse, with my leg damaged like this, he has the advantage again. Dancing around me. More shots ring out. Until I have to drop my sword as my arm loses integrity.

"I admit, I didn't see that coming," Bradford says as he walks closer. Feeling safe as I am now disarmed. "But this round goes to me too."

I stare him down. Showing him my resolve. "I heard no bell ring."

"Let me remedy that." With those words, he places another round right between my eyes.

Death number three. But don't count me out yet. Of course, I made a new Automata body. Oh, the look on Bradford's face. As my Automata body's chest suddenly opens up. The barely noticeable widening of his eyes as my soul-crystal starts to float up and twirling material starts to manifest around it.

And I am back. Once again stuck in time flowing like syrup. Well, I don't mind. It gives me time to figure things out. Namely, what do I equip? I only had one Automata body prepped for Maryn. Rezzed, dressed and then stowed away. This new one is naked.

Summoning a new sword is a no-brainer. I admit it isn't my preferred weapon, as I swing it around like a brute without much finesse. But the ability to turn it sideways and use the width of the blade is invaluable.

Should I summon Maryn's armor again too? I mean, I barely feel it with the Automata body strengths as it is. And its thick leather does fuck all to stop bullets. So, I might as well forget about it. That means I either go naked or for my shielding garments. Which, depending on which variant, might slow me down even more.

Hmm, I think I have a better idea.

Golden mist starts appearing around me as an Orochni Styled Exoskeleton takes form around my body. While some kind of golden metal, it is overall pretty light and shouldn't slow me down. I should have researched a version to boost speed. but then again I didn't know I would need this full-body gizmo. Still, the increased strength and stamina might give me the edge I need.

As my latest slow-motion experience ends, I failed to launch an attack. My time was taken up by materializing my gear. But now I am ready.

To my surprise, Bradford didn't even attempt to attack. Not even a snide comment about my revealing outfit. Guess he is taking me now seriously. Finally! Then again, being underestimated had its advantages.

Well, while he ponders how to get rid of me, I can do the same. A small breather before we go at it again.

Wait. No!

Bradford is playing for time. Holy shit, his arm is growing back. Not very fast. But I can already see the shoulder I cut off reforming and parts of his biceps. If I don't end it quickly, he might regain his second arm and I have no doubt, that would spell my doom. No doubt, if he can wield two guns again, Bradford will be deadlier.

Time to recklessly head in. Swinging wildly while trying to catch him. What else is there to do? He has mobility and ranged weapons on his side. If I am not careful, he can kite me forever. And what do I have? One thick-ass sword that should be way heavier than it is.

Huh?

Is my Automata body so strong that this chunk of shaped metal feels light? Especially with the exoskeleton helping. Wait! That gives me an idea.

"Hey Bradford," I call out as I stop mid-movement. Coming to a halt in the center of the stage. "Don't you know guns are lame? Here, try my sword."

And with those wise words, I lob my sword at him. Barely missed him. He must be some kind of limbo dance master. Else he would be in two parts now.

No matter. I am already summoning another sword in my left hand and crafting another with a quick thought. Once ready, I throw my new sword, while summoning another one in my other hand and already crafting a replacement once more in my inventory. I may have run out of bullets, but I doubt I will run out of swords any time soon. Call it an unfair advantage for void-traders. Not to mention, why shoot tiny projectiles of lead when you can hurl sharp steel of forty or so pounds that is over half the length of my body?

So far, my new tactic barely bears fruit. Got a few nicks and cuts on Bradford. But he is running out of space. I actually hurl the swords strong enough for about every second of them to bury into the stone. Jutting dangerously out and reducing where he can evade to.

Ups. One of my swords plowed into the soldiers ringing the open side of the stage. Well, as long as I don't hit one of the unwilling audience members I don't care if a spinning blade decapitates three soldiers in one strike.

Yes! A nice long cut on Bradfords back. Not fatal, but if I have to kill him by a thousand cuts, then so be it. By now his uniform is in tatters too. Too many cuts starting to overwhelm his-

Damn. Wait a moment. Unfair. Alright. I taunted Bradford that he should try using a sword. But I didn't mean for him to actually do it. It was a stupid one-liner. Not combat advice.

Urg. He is good with a sword too. Of course, he is. Now I have to evade! How unfair. Duck. Side-step. Twirl. Oh shit, can't evade-

Ha! His blade glanced off my exoskeleton. I think it said something about partially acting as a defensive garment. Heck, with so much skin shown I thought of it as a joke. But guess what. All those swirls of gold circling my body do a good job of deflecting his blade. It's too wide to penetrate the gaps. However, a slimmer blade or bullets could do the trick.

Oh, no. Bradford had the same idea. Dual-wielding sword and gun. Shit, what do I do now?

It is over before I know what happened. My legs buckle with pain. The sword I wielded clattering to the ground as I lose control of my hand. My forearm was nearly cut off by bullets slipping through my defenses.

And once again, I find myself at Bradford's mercy. Not that there is any to expect.

"This time, stay down."

As if. There is still plenty of fight left in me. And glaring up I make it known. "Don't count on it."

Another death. Once again my soul-crystal is ejected. Time to craft yet another Automata body. Neat thing, right? I can still craft things while being reduced to soul-crystal form.

"But what now?" I ponder while being stuck once again in slow motion. Being mounted in a fresh Automata body is giving me once again time to ponder the question. I tried going close. Bradford still evades me good. If only I had cut off a leg instead of an arm. Going ranged by throwing swords unbalanced him, but not for long. So, what now?

Think Lillyn, think. What would Becky do? Or Dera. Neither faced an opponent like this. Fast, skilled, and strong. Not to mention proficient in melee and ranged. And what do I know? I was part of only two delves into hardened space. The second time I didn't participate at all. And the first time I nearly got us killed because-

Huh.

Because I got myself stuck.

Oh, no. Not that tactic. I'll never live that down. People will make fun of me for generations. I don't even know if it will work with an Automata body. But even without, it might buy me some time to figure things out.

Alright. Time to summon my "Heavy Skirt Of Sustained Shielding", "Belt Of Shielding", and two "Bracelets Of Shielding". Not my heavy tunic. No sense in bursting another one as my main weapon will be the "Cross-Strap Bra Of The Shieldmaiden". That's right. You are probably laughing now. Look, I have no choice, okay?

"I think you missed dressing up a part," Bradford says with mirth in his voice and a smirk on his face. One I intend to wipe of his stupid ass face.

I activate all my shields at once. Making the air between us glimmer with a barely visible force field. And, for the first time ever, I am relieved as my breasts grow. So, it works with Automata. I was worried it wouldn't.

Crafting and summoning two potions of shielding and- "Bottoms up!"

I drink two at a time while crafting and summoning even more potions. Twenty. Thirty. I keep going. Reaching the chest size of my original body. Let me tell you it is a strange feeling to fight for regaining my comically large breast size again. But I am not done. More potions. Ever more go down my throat. As fast as I can craft and summon them. The progress hindered that my original size on the Automata body is way less than that of my fleshy body. With the growths enchantment working in percentage, there is no helping it.

It gets hard to stand when my breasts reach the size of beanbag chairs. Time to take a short break and-

"Are you intending to fight me like that?" Bradford laughs. His right arm propped on his hip and his left- Damn, it has regenerated down to his elbow. Time is running out.

"What?" I ask innocently before drinking two more potions. "Never heard of the saying 'if you can't fight it out, hug it out'?"

Before Bradford can react, I accelerate with surprising speed. I might be big, but my body is still a freakishly strong Automata. When Bradford finally starts to react, I have already bridged half the distance. It is too late.

I catch him with my left breast. A sentence I never thought I would say. The sheer force of the impact pushed him back and is flinging him against the wall behind. But I don't stop. Colliding with Bradford and smashing him against the wall again. A spidery web of cracks is created around him. Giving judgment to the force of the impact. But I am not done. Stemming against his attempts to break free while happily chucking more potions.

It takes a good half minute for Bradford to push his legs between us and then shove me off. Making me stumble and fall. No matter. Standing up, I see that my attack did damage. He looks beaten up and coughing blood. Oh my! Did I cause internal bleeding? I am so, so sorry. Not.

Now realizing the danger I pose, Bradford is squeezing off the last shots he got in his pistol. I don't even feel them. All caught by my enormous personal shield. It makes a dent. Robbing me of tens of thousands of shield points. Even managing to shrink my breasts by a considerable amount again.

"You think that will do you any good?" I ask before starting to chuck back shield potions again.

If looks could kill I'd probably still standing. Thanks to my personal shield. But the venom in Bradford's eyes is palatable. "What kind of monster are you?"

"Monster? No. Void-trader. Come on. Say it with me. Void. Trader. Void-trader."

"Soldier!" Bradford shouts out. Fear coloring his voice. Or am I just imagining it? He is pointing at me with his good arm too. "Kill this monstrosity. She can't be allowed to live!"

Silence settles over the theater. Not a sound can be heard. Even crickets are quiet. Wait. Does Besona have crickets? Looking around I see the soldiers hesitant. They are here to bask in the glory of their lord commander. Witness how he dispatches his enemies in an honorable duel. All to fan his ego. But the tides have turned. And now, he asks going against all he ever taught them.

One single soldier steps up. Aims his pistol at me. But his hand is shaking. The finger failing to pull the trigger.

Is he scared? Of little old me?

"Go ahead," I taunt him. "My shield can handle it. And even if you manage to kill me, you know I won't stay dead. Then, you'll be sorry."

My words are heard. The little tin soldier stumbling back. He isn't the only one. Others take an involuntary step back too.

"Now." I drink another set of potions. "Where were we?"

"Cowards!" Bradford bellows. Followed by a stream of not child-friendly content that I won't repeat. He cuts off as I once again rush him like a steam engine run wild.

This time, he manages to evade me. Which is a shame. Could have used him as an airbag to dampen my impact against the wall. There go another few thousand shield points. Not that it matters. I just have to drink more.

Now. Where is-

Ha! Bradford stumbled over one of my swords I hurled and buried in the floor. This is my opportunity!

"Bodyslam!"

Got'him. He is buried beneath my tit flesh. I think. It is hard to tell. I mean there still is my personal shield between us. But I can feel something rowdy beneath me trying to throw me off.

Well, there is only one solution. I've got to drink more. Ten. Twenty. Thir-

Heck, I lost count.

But it is working. I feel the struggle getting less. It seems Bradford's strength does have its limits after all. And his mobility is done for. Just as I planned.

"Hey, Bradford. You okay down there?"

"Get. Off. Me. You. Abomination."

How rude. I thought it was every guy's dream to motorboat a girl's big tits. Okay. Probably not everyone. Not me. When I was a teenager - and still a boy - I had no such dirty thoughts. I swear.

Oh, no. My feet just left the ground. Guess there goes my mobility too. I swear if anyone photographs me with these giant tits, I will- Does Besona even have photographs. Maybe an equivalent.

Wait. I am rolling. Forward? Ah, I stopped. Hey, look. I can see Bradford's face. I wonder. Time to summon a sword and get it over with. Don't you think so too? This has been going on long enough.

A final swing and-

Oh. My. Gosh. Darn it. My breasts are so big I can't even reach Bradford. The tip of my sword is just a handspan away from his nose.

"Bradford. It is over. Any last words?"

"I will-"

Ups.

Sword slipped my grasp.

Split a skull.

Cut a man's last words rudely off.

I am so sorry.

Nah, not really.

Hey. Guess what. The void-trader won. Who'd see that coming? Honestly, I wouldn't have said I had it in me. At least, until Maryn died. Then I had to win. I mean, there is a prophecy after all, right.

Anyway. Time to get off this piece of shit. Wait. Can't move. Not even roll. I guess I have to dismiss my personal shield. Hold on. Woah, that feels strange. Let me tell you, going from the size of two cars to apple-sized in the span of a few seconds is not pleasurable.

Hey, look. Someone dropped a soul-crystal. Bradford? That you?

Hehe.

"Look!" I shout as I hold up the crystal. "There is your unbeatable Lord Commander. Defeat by a void-trader."

Silence. They all stare at me. Caught civilians and soldiers alike. Cowed and afraid by little old me. That's funny. Well, to me at least. At least they didn't start shooting now that Bradford's and my duel is over. Hmm, what do I do now?

"You want him back?" Look. I might defeat them all one on one. But not if they all rush me at once. Worse, they could blast me from afar. "Who is man enough to challenge me?"

Hushed whispers all around me. Frightened glances to and fro. Who will be the first to dare to attack me.

There. A soldier steps forward and-

Takes a knee? He is bowing his head. Others follow his example. Just a few seconds later, they all bow in submission. That's not what I wanted. I mean I don't want to fight. But what do they think happens now? Me taking over for Bradford? Think again, idiots!

"So, that's your answer? Surrender?" My gaze roams over the soldiers. There. The banner carrier. Walking over I motion for him to hand it over.

Urg. Idiot hands me his pistol instead. "The banner," I say as I toss the weapon over my shoulder.

As he hands me it over, I hold four previous heroes from Earth in my grasp. They each tried to defeat Bradford. They all failed where I succeeded. Still, I think they'll be up for a fight.

It only takes a few seconds to spawn a new Automata body. As I grab Maryn's soul-crystal, the cavity in the chest opens up. "You can all surrender, provided my negotiator Maryn lets you."

With those words, I insert Maryn's soul-crystal. Her eyes flutter then focus on me. Smiling, I hand her one of the swords. "I think you need this for negotiations."

"I promise the negotiations will be short," she says as she grabs the weapon.

Most already guessed what comes now. The soldiers slowly retreating backward. But as Maryn takes her first step, they all flee. Letting whatever weapons they carry fall.

"Lillyn!"

A body impacts with me. Lips find mine. And for a moment, I am back in slow motion. The world standing still. Just for Myra and me.

---

This has been a long day. Too much excitement for my taste. Heck, I am supposed to be a trader. Lazing around in my Little Mule and peddling wares. Not taking on crazed dictators with their own personal cult and army of fanatics.

But it is over now. I even got my body. As strange as it sounds, I missed it. All of it. Even my oversized breasts. I know. I know. I always complain about them. But honestly, I made my peace with them. Heck, they might helped me land Myra as my girlfriend. Not that she would admit out loud.

How?

Oh, right. Let me catch you up on what happened in the last few bells. Sorry, I was a little emotionally drained to narrate that all in detail. So, it turns out that attached to the Demole's militia was a soul-guide. One that was captured when the fighting was over. He was more than willing to perform his job for us. Resurrecting not just me, but all of those that died in the theater. Even a few dozens outside of it.

Now, you might point out that that requires a lot of soul-flakes. Five thousand a head. Well, guess who carried a shit ton of soul-flakes with him. That's right. Bradford was loaded to the brim with the stuff. Why? I guess upgrades to stats get more expansive as they progress. With him already way past normal bounds, I might need millions to raise a single stat. The moment I killed him, all those soul-flakes got shaken loose. Showering the audience. I got over one hundred thousand myself.

No, I didn't squirrel those away to save for a male body. Don't get me wrong. I was tempted. But I have gotten used to this one. Not to mention, I think Myra would be a little turned off if I switched suddenly genders.

Not to mention it would be egoistically. Who knows how many civilians of Demole died. While Maryn and the previous heroes from Earth - yes, I gave them Automata bodies - started hunting down soldiers, I was busy the last few bells crafting soul-chargers. Not a lot. With so many Automata bodies rezzed, swords summoned, and potions drunk, I was scraping at the bottom of my void-favor purse. Thankfully the people of Demole pitched in. Those resurrected at least. Whatever void-favors they have they handed over. More than that. They all are running to and from their homes. Collecting valuables just for me to void. So I can craft a few more soul-chargers and save a few more soul-crystals from expiring in the long term.

I fear Demole won't recover from this ordeal for quite some time. It is one thing to stabilize thousands of soul-crystals. An entirely different task will be to resurrect all of them. To gather the soul-flakes for it will be a monumental task. Well, once all soul-crystals are secured, maybe we can scratch up enough void-favors for a few basic Automata bodies.

Speaking of volunteer groups. There is Myra coming back with some of the civilians we rescued from the theater. Bringing more items to void. An is that Maryn? In her human form no less. I guess the fighting must have concluded. Finally. It had been many bells. Soon the sun will set. Damn, I can't wait to get to bed.

"How goes the war?" I ask as Maryn sits down beside me.

"We drove the soldiers back a few hours back," Maryn says with a sigh. "It was the Church Of The Prophet that gave us more trouble."

A few priests? Really? "How so. There couldn't have been many of them."

"There were," Maryn corrects me while pinching the bridge of her nose. Then giving me a tired shake of her head. She looks just as exhausted as I feel. "Over a thousand of them. While Bradford was busy playing theatrics, they were up to no good in the first temple."

"Summoning who knows what," Myra pitches in. "The head-priestess is really concerned. This is what she feared. With so many priests and priestesses connected to the Otherworldy, they could have fast-tracked any summoning prophecy."

"We found no evidence that they got anything out of the gate," Maryn now adds. "But that doesn't mean anything. We could have just arrived late."

"That's a problem for another day," I say. Sounds to me, at least for now, the fighting is over.

"Here," Maryn says while holding out her hand. A familiar icon of an Automata body floating over her palm. "It was very helpful, but I don't need it anymore. At least, for now."

"Keep it," I say while waving her off. "It was meant for you anyways and it is good to have a backup."

"True. And I'd love to keep it." But contrary to her words, she pushes her hand even closer to mine. "But it is better used by you. If you void it, how many more soul-chargers can you craft?"

Shit. She has a point. "A lot," I admit out loud. Taking the offered item and voiding it a moment later. "What will you do now?"

"There still is a Western Empire." Steel returns into the eyes of Maryn. Her exhaustion gone for the moment. "The abomination Bradford built. They won't retreat for long and they can't remain to stand. We need to tear it down. The others summoned from Earth and I spoke. We agree. That's where we can do the most good. We ain't the prophecized heroes that put an end to Bradford, but we can still end what he left behind."

"The prophecy. Yeah. Listen." How do I explain it best? "It was a double-edged sword from the start. The second Bradford and his fanatics took over the temple was the very moment he doomed himself. Do you understand? Bradford and his church created a prophecy that he could only be defeated by a hero originating from Earth. Thinking that if he cut us off from Earth, he would be undefeatable forever. But everything has to end. And I think Besona on some level knows it. The moment they captured the temple the prophecy worked against Bradford. Making Besona enforce that the last viable candidate has to win. If I hadn't been there as a backup for you, then you, Maryn, would have succeeded. I don't know how, but you would have."

"Is that why you said to me you can't lose as Bradford had you in his grip?" Uh, oh. Myra sounds angry. She even punched me in the shoulder. Ouch. "That logic is shoddy at best. There are hundreds of other scenarios. You can't narrow it down like that. Prophecies are vague. And what we told you was reverse-engineered from what we found written in the fabric of Besona. We could have made a mistake."

"You are right," I tell her. Holding my hands up in a sign of giving concessions. "Then again, I thought path of least resistance. All the other scenarios would be much more a headache for Besona to realize."

"This isn't over," Myra decrees. "We will talk about that more later."

"Thanks for trying to spare my feelings," Maryn cuts in before I can dig my own grave any deeper. "But maybe this way has been for the best. Turns out being a hero isn't what books and movies on Earth led me to believe. I had my doubts for a while."

After patting me on the shoulder, Maryn stands up. "See you later. And thanks, Lillyn, hero of Besona."

Oh, god. I hope that title won't follow me around. Can I now get back to being a trader? I rather prefer a quiet life. Being a hero is too much drama. It is exhausting.

After crafting whatever soul-chargers I can, the volunteers leave again. With only Myra and me remaining, it is time to call it a night. But there is one thing left to do.

"Myra, why don't you wait upstairs. I'll join you in a moment, but there is something I have to do. It won't take long."

"You better," she says before giving me a kiss on the cheek. I can tell she is exhausted too. We all are. This was a long day.

Listen, my imaginary audience. We need to talk. I thought about it for a while now. I always say you are imaginary, right? But what if you aren't? What if you are out there? Not on Besona. Like, really really far away. Playing witness to my life. Maybe in the form of a movie, series, book, or podcast. Heck, it might be written down in a niche of the internet.

So, what if. What if my life is a story for you. What are the implications? Every story needs a main protagonist, right? That would be me. There is a journey, drama, and a final hurdle to overcome. Doesn't that fit my life perfectly? At least, ever since I arrived in Besona.

And who better to narrate my tale than myself, right? And here lies the problem. I told you that I narrate my life in times of stress. But never this much. Ever since coming to Besona, the need to narrate my life got out of hand. I can only reason that it is Besona that awakened the urge. But how did it know? Right from the start, Besona must have known that I am the main protagonist. At least, for this story. Freaky, right? It also means I can't have landed here by a freak accident. I guess that white Truck was meant to kill me after all. Well, after all the ups and downs, I kinda like the outcome. So, thanks Truck-kun for bringing me here. For making me a trader. Meeting the love of my life. Giving me a purpose.

But there is one last implication, dear audience, then it is that every story needs an ending. A happy end. And I get it. There are still a lot of things to do for me. Building a trading empire based on Automata bodies. Or I could research in other avenues. I started on so many projects and I finished so few. With my aptitude for void-magic, who knows what I will be stumbling on next? Not to mention that there is the rebuilding of Demole. With my Automata bodies and soul-chargers, I am a good fit to help out. And you probably want to witness it. All of it.

But what if I am right and Besona really makes a story out of my life? I couldn't just continue to narrate my life. That would be boring. No, a story needs hurdles. Problems to overcome. And I think Besona would be just too eager to make that a possibility.

If I want a happy end, then I have to resign from being the hero of this story. I have to stop narrating. Believe me, it will be hard. Narrating to you has become a part of my life. But it is necessary. Upstairs in my Little Mule is Myra. I love her. Of that, I have no doubt anymore. And I never want to risk her again.

A quiet life.

A happy end.

For that, I have to stop narrating. So, this is goodbye. Thank you for following me. Sorry for all the mad ramblings in between. The many tangents I had. Thank you for walking this path of adventure with me.

But this is where we part ways.

Goodbye.