Chapter 55: No Choice of Rejection.
Following the female staff’s lead, Suna and Skoll reached a room. As she opened the door, they saw a stark contrast to the wasteland-style bar below.
The room was luxurious: patterned carpets, wallpapered walls, and elegant furniture reminiscent of a high-end hotel. Yet, clashing with the classical sofas, low tables, cabinets, and wall lamps was a sleek alloy desk at the room’s center.
Skoll frowned, puzzled, noting no one was present except a black cat grooming itself on the desk.
After they entered, the staff bowed respectfully. “Please wait here. Someone will discuss business with you shortly.”
She closed the door softly.
The moment it shut, outside noise vanished, as if severed by an isolation barrier. Skoll tensed, asking, “Su, there’s no one here. Do we wait as she said?”
Suna sat on a sofa, patted the spot beside her, and pointed forward. “They’re already here. Right in front of you.”
“What? That’s just…” Skoll began, sitting as directed, but stopped mid-sentence.
The black cat leaped from the desk toward a sofa chair, its body swelling mid-air. Its glossy fur morphed into clothing fibers, and its animal form shifted into another creature.
Within seconds, it became a black-haired, blue-eyed woman in a witch hat and a fitted black gown.
Seated gracefully, she propped her cheek on one hand, eyeing Suna with playful admiration. “Spotting my disguise at a glance—impressive, Faceless Saintess.”
Suna paused at the title, then chuckled. “Faceless Saintess? Quite the nickname.”
After a brief compliment, she pointed out a flaw. “Your transformation magic is flawless, mimicking animals perfectly. But even without magic, daily habits give you away. Cats don’t like smooth, reflective metal desks, let alone sit comfortably on them.”
The witch’s eyes widened slightly. “True, I missed that detail. But, Faceless Saintess, so familiar with cats—do you keep one?”
Suna brushed off the probing. “Never owned one, just seen plenty. Let’s get to business—time for a deal.”
Skoll whispered, “Su, is this an intel trading hub?”
The witch smirked. “Clueless and dragged here? The Faceless Saintess has a cruel streak.”
Suna pouted. “It’s training for this kid who insisted on following. And yes, Kur, this is a branch of the Twelve Serpent Scales, an empire intel network.”
Curious about growing stronger, Skoll asked, “Su, how will you train me?”
Suna grinned, revealing her plan. “Guess my purpose based on the intel I’m trading for. Get it right, and I’ll pay for you to buy one piece of intel here. Get it wrong, and stop tailing me.”
Suna seized the chance to deter Skoll’s tracking. Though his personality had twisted, she trusted he’d honor his word.
As they spoke, the witch watched with a predatory glint in her blue eyes. “Interesting. I thought he was your lackey, not a tagalong.”
Pausing, she joined the “training.” “What’s in it for me to play along?”
Skoll, realizing the exercise targeted his rhetoric and reasoning, hesitated briefly before accepting. “Training my speech and thinking? Fine, I’m in.”
He clearly craved specific intel—likely about “Suna” the saintess’s death and her killer.
Though Skoll focused on growing stronger, he hadn’t forgotten his quest for justice. Lacking resources and influence, he couldn’t reinvestigate the months-old incident—until Suna’s “training” offered a chance. The penalty was bearable, so refusal was never an option.