Chapter 110: Terrible Price

The monocle felt heavier in his hand now, as though the knowledge it had revealed added more weight to the artifact.

He stared at it, at the swirling mist trapped within the dark glass, and wondered what the king had seen in his final moments. Had he realized, too late, that vision beyond the veil was not enlightenment but damnation?

Ishiki shook his head and dismissed the artifact with disappointment.

Why was he always getting vestiges that had to do something with self harm. This was the second artifact that he had received and just like the last one, this one too hade side effects of using.

But that was not the main problem right now, the main problem was that if what he concluded is true than how were they going to kill the Emperor and complete the Scenario? And if somehow they do kill him, will they e dooming all these people, that live in their little paradise surrounded by death and decay?

That thought for some reason, was harsh and did not make Ishiki even a bit happy, instead it made his stomach twist.

But then another thought found its way to his mind… what did it even matter, what happened to this place. He just needed to be sure that the people living here were not real.

By all means that should be true, as this place existed inside a scenario that was created by the Neural Matrix system to test them… on another thought, why was the System even testing them?

What was the end goal of all this? and will they ever be free? Will there be more trials and Scenario’s after this?

Ishiki vigorously shook his head. ’What the hell? Why am i suddenly thinking so many questions?’

Actually, if he looked at the trail of his thoughts. Weren’t they all somewhat concerning and demanded something close to… truth?

He gritted his teeth, that was it. He used the Truth Seeker ability of the [Eye of Ruin] and that had effects on his mind.

’Goddamn it, that was fast.’ Ishiki tried to distract himself by looking around and found it increasingly hard to concentrate on anything.

The wretched Monocle was already trying to claw at his mind after using it for just a fleeting moment.

But it indeed showed him something… something that can change a lot of things, or can it? What would change? Nothing actually, they still have to kill the Emperor to return home.

The only change that could happen is, if that those lines did not connect to the Emperor and rather something else.

’I need to meet Yuki, at any cost.’ He left the park, stepping back into the labyrinthine streets of the Secondary Ring.

The crowds had returned—or perhaps they had always been there, and he simply hadn’t noticed. Merchants hawked wares in their shiny shops. Nobles strolled arm in arm. Children chased each other in elaborate games of tag.

It was as lovely as ever and at the same time, as clean as ever.

He was moving through the crowd, drowned in deep thoughts. He didn’t notice when did he end up in front of a passing carriage.

“Sir… Respected Sir!”

A voice called to him from behind. Ishiki blinked once, coming back to his senses and then turned around.

He saw a black carriage rounded the corner, drawn by four humans wearing rugged leather jackets. The carriage itself was ornate—lacquered wood reinforced with iron bands, windows curtained in heavy velvet. It bore the insignia of a prominent merchant stamped on its side: a golden scale balanced by coin and grain.

“Please set aside, we are getting late.” One of them spoke as he looked at Ishiki with eyes of a broken man.

Ishiki nodded and stepped aside. But as he did another voice came from behind and a stern man in mid thirties with receding hairlines jumped out from behind the carriage.

“Why did you stop!” He lashed out at the four humans. The carriers apologized and then continued after the stern man settled back.

Ishiki had no interest in it, but it was the cargo that caught Ishiki’s attention.

Strapped to the rear of the carriage were six large wooden crates, each marked with a branded label: “Perishable Goods – Handle With Care.”

As the carriage hit a bump in the road, one of the crates shook.

It was not from the impact, but from inside.

Ishiki’s eyes narrowed. He activated [Ghost Blade], just enough to enhance his perception without fully disappearing.

The world sharpened as sounds became crisper. And through the wooden slats of the crates, he sensed living things, trembling and crying.

They were children. One in each one of the crates.

“Perishable goods,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The carriage continued down the street, followed by three burly men in armor, merchants, or slavers masquerading as such.

They walked with the confidence of those who believed themselves untouchable, chatting amongst themselves, occasionally glancing at their “cargo” with proprietary satisfaction.

He slipped into the shadows of a nearby alley, following the carriage from a parallel street. His footsteps were silent and his presence was a whisper in the crowd.

The [Ghost Blade] skill layered over his movements, making him difficult to notice, a trick of the light that passersby dismissed without thought.

The carriage turned into a narrower thoroughfare, away from the main plaza. The buildings here were older, utilitarian—warehouses and storage depots rather than elegant estates.

There were fewer people and less eyes to see anything.

Perfect for something illicit.

Ishiki climbed onto a low rooftop, crouching behind a stone gargoyle as he watched the carriage slow to a stop in front of a nondescript warehouse. The merchant dismounted, stretching and laughing about something vulgar.

He then made the four man who were earlier drawing the carriage to unload the cargo. On of the crates moved a little too much and so the stern guy kicked it. “Quiet in there! You’ll fetch a good price if you behave.”

A muffled whimper answered.

Ishiki’s hand opened to summon his invisible tachi. The urge to descend and carve these men into pieces, was almost overwhelming.

’Huh? What am I thinking and doing?’

Wasn’t he supposed to be not effected by the matters of this world and especially the people he did not believe to be real.

Or had the look in that man’s eyes shifted something in his heart. How could those eyes filled with pain and will to live be fake?

He covered his face with a hand and almost laughed. He really was going insane…

He turned around and moved to leave here, but before he could move, the world shifted.

A figure dropped from the sky.

No—not dropped. It descended, like a shadow peeling itself from the night and taking form.

Cloaked entirely in black, face obscured by a featureless hood, the figure landed in the center of the merchants without a sound.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then the figure’s hands blurred.

Shing. Shing. Shing.

Three strokes and three flashes of steel catching the lamplight.

The ropes binding the crates snapped simultaneously and they opened like origami boxes.

Children spilled out from them, dirty, wide-eyed and gasping for air. There were six of them, ranging from perhaps six to twelve years old, their clothes torn and their faces were smudged with grime.

The cloaked figure moved among them like smoke, shepherding them toward a nearby sewer grate that had been pried open.

“What the—THIEVE!” one of the armored figures roared as he looked at the dead body of the stern merchant, finally breaking from their shock. They drew a cudgel from their belt. “Stop him!”

As Ishiki, blinked he could not believe his eyes. The figure was already gone. Vanished without a trace. The last child disappeared into the sewer, and the grate slammed shut with a metallic clang.

The three armored guards bellowed for backup, and from the shadows of the warehouse, four more figures emerged. These men looked just like earlier three, trained fighters and their eyes instantly shot up to scan the rooftops and the alleys.

One of them—a woman with short-cropped hair and a scar across her cheek—had a different look in her eyes… she was an awakened of this world.

Her eyes swept across the rooftops and locked directly onto Ishiki.

“There!” she shouted, pointing. “Intruder on the roof! Accomplice!”

Ishiki’s blood ran cold.

’Shit.’

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