After leaving the two terrified men behind, Charles walked along the now bustling main street. The morning air felt cool, carrying the sweet aroma from dango stalls and the scent of cherry blossoms blooming everywhere.
He arrived in front of a small shop hidden at the end of Hanamizaka Street, a place so simple it was almost invisible among the more grandiose stores.
There was no flashy signboard, only a single white paper lantern hanging in front of its sliding door, with one ancient character painted in black ink: 'Property'.
The sliding door was made of dark wood polished to a shine, and when Charles pushed it open, there was no creak at all, just a soft whisper as if he had stepped through a silk curtain.
The atmosphere inside was in stark contrast to the hustle outside. A calm and peaceful silence immediately enveloped him, all the sounds from the street seeming to vanish, swallowed by the shop's walls. The air inside was filled with a strange and intoxicating aroma—a mixture of old parchment, the sharp ozone like after a thunderstorm, and the sweet scent of unfamiliar incense, as if he had just entered a forgotten ancient temple.
The shop wasn't large, but it felt incredibly spacious. Tall wooden shelves stretched up to the ceiling, filled with impossible items: an hourglass where the sand flowed upward, an empty birdcage that continuously emitted melodious songs, a mirror that reflected not a reflection but a view of a starry ocean.
A few customers sat in dimly lit corners, their figures blurry and unreal, as if they themselves were part of the wonders in that place.
Behind a long empty wooden counter stood a man. His face was ordinary, the kind you'd forget five minutes after meeting him.
His hair was short and black, his eyes a dull brown. He wore the simple clothes of a craftsman.
However, if observed longer, occasionally there was a strange flash of purple or gold in his brown eyes, and his fingers sometimes moved on their own as if weaving invisible threads in the air.
He dried his hands, stained with something shimmering like silver dust, with a clean cloth, then lifted his head and smiled at Charles. His smile was so genuine and friendly.
"Welcome to my shop," he said, his voice calm and melodious. "Is there anything I can help you with, Masked Sir?"
Charles didn't answer. He walked slowly toward the counter, his boots making no sound at all on the perfectly polished wooden floor. His eyes, hidden behind the fox mask, scanned every detail in the room, every strange artifact, every mysterious customer.
Then, he stopped right in front of the man.
With a sudden motion that shattered the silence, he drew his revolver and pointed it straight at the shop owner's forehead.
CLICK.
The sound of the revolver's hammer being cocked was so loud and brutal amid the peaceful atmosphere.
At the same time, the other customers in the shop reacted. One of them, who looked like a noblewoman, just sighed in annoyance before her body dissolved into a puff of purple smoke and vanished.
Another, a large figure sitting in the corner, just snorted before stepping into the shadow on the wall and disappearing.
In an instant, the room became empty, leaving only Charles and the shop owner!
The man wasn't surprised at all. He didn't even blink. He just looked at the revolver's muzzle pressed against his forehead with the curiosity of a craftsman examining an intriguing work of art. His friendly smile didn't fade.
"Are you like me?" Charles hissed, his voice low and full of threat.
The shop owner chuckled softly. "Like you? I'm not sure what you mean. I'm just an ordinary craftsman."
"If you're like me," Charles continued, ignoring his answer. "What do you want here? To kill me?"
"A good idea," the man replied lightly, as if they were discussing the weather. "But unfortunately, I have no intention of doing that. I'm a businessman, not a killer."
Charles stared at him in silence for a few moments. Then, with the same sudden motion, he withdrew his revolver. He didn't unload the bullets. Instead, he placed the entire revolver on the wooden counter with a clack.
"Modify this revolver," Charles ordered. "Make it have a terrifying effect."
After that, he tossed a heavy leather pouch full of Mora coins onto the counter.
The shop owner looked at the revolver, then shifted to the Mora pouch. His smile now turned into that of a businessman who had just found an interesting customer.
"I can do it," he said. "But to transfer a 'property', I need a 'raw material'. You need something that also has its own effect to sacrifice."
Does that mean he has the ability to transfer power from one item and move it to another, merging them? Quite interesting, Charles thought.
Without hesitation, he pulled an item from his inventory: A baby's toy made of blackened silver. The object felt heavy and lifeless in his hand. The Jester's Rattle!
He placed it beside the bullets.
The shop owner took the rattle, examining it carefully. Then, he pulled out an antique monocle with a silver frame from his pocket and put it on.
As he looked at the rattle through the monocle's lens, the lens suddenly glowed with a dim white light.
The man then began to work. He didn't use any tools. He just extended his hand over the rattle.
With full concentration, he seemed to pull something invisible.
Charles couldn't see anything, perhaps it was just his imagination, but he saw a faint gray essence, looking like silent screaming smoke, forcibly pulled out from the rattle.
The rattle vibrated violently for a moment before finally going still, its color becoming duller and its aura vanishing.
As the gray essence floated in the craftsman's palm, a small drop of the essence suddenly "dripped" and seeped into his skin.
For a split second, the smile on the man's face wavered, replaced by an expression of deep sorrow, and he nearly laughed with an empty laugh before managing to hold it back.
Charles watched all of it in silence, his eyes behind the mask narrowing.
The craftsman then placed his palm containing the essence over Charles's revolver. He pressed his palm onto the revolver, and the gray essence began to seep into the metal with a soft hiss.
The revolver started vibrating intensely, and slowly, its once clean and pitch-black metal began to be adorned with fine crack patterns like a spider's web, emitting a cold and terrifying pale blue glow.
The faint inscription on its barrel, which originally read "Time will fill the empty," began to fade, replaced by a new inscription that seemed to carve itself: "Time only repeats the empty."
The process only lasted a few minutes, but it felt so intense.
The craftsman withdrew his hand, his breath slightly ragged. "It's done," he said, pushing the revolver toward Charles.
Quite fast, Charles muttered while taking both items. The revolver now felt colder in his hand. He could feel a dark and sorrowful power pulsing within it. He stroked the glowing blue cracks with his thumb.
"This revolver has now absorbed the effect from the other item," the shop owner explained, his voice back to that of a salesman describing his product. "So, every bullet fired will now have the same effect. The target hit by the bullet will be trapped in a mental cycle, forced to repeatedly relive their greatest regret or failure in life, which will trigger symptoms of depression and suicidal urges.
"Each additional shot will intensify that mental cycle to an unbearable level, even for the toughest individuals." He paused for a moment. "Meanwhile, that baby's rattle is now just an ordinary toy. It no longer has any effect. It's up to you whether to throw it away or not."
Charles listened intently, muttering, So if I fire this and hit someone, they'll have suicidal urges, and if the bullets hit the target continuously, it can increase those urges to an unbearable level, unavoidable even if their will to live is strong enough... this can be combined with Frailty's Kiss which requires the target's mental state to be fragile.
He stored the revolver in his inventory, then looked at the man who had also removed his monocle. "What do you see with that monocle?"
The man smiled, this time his smile tinged with a faint weariness. "I see intricate weaves of light threads on every object. I see the soul of everything."
"Thank you," Charles said. He turned and walked toward the door.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Masked Sir. Come back if you need anything else."
...
After finishing his business at the mysterious shop, Charles stepped back onto the bustling streets of Inazuma City. The air that had felt cold and calculating inside the shop was now replaced by the warmth and hustle of life.
However, after observing his surroundings in a flash, he realized something was different. The people around him were no longer walking with their usual busyness; they now moved with the same purpose, their steps faster, their faces adorned with expressions of anticipation and overflowing excitement.
The energy in the city had changed!
Charles stopped near a wooden bridge, his tall body leaning against the railing, his expressionless fox mask seemingly observing the sea of people flowing before him. He could hear excited whispers from all directions, carried by the wind that also brought the scent of cherry blossoms.
"Hurry, hurry! We won't get a spot in front otherwise!" a young woman exclaimed to her husband, her hand impatiently pulling his arm.
"I can't believe this is really happening," an old merchant said to his friend, his usually tired eyes now sparkling. "After all these years, Her Excellency the Raiden Shogun is finally showing herself to the public!"
At that moment, Charles froze. His entire body, which had been relaxed, now tensed. He slowly straightened his back, his head tilting slightly, his sharp ears behind the mask now fully focused on every conversation around him, filtering the city's noise to catch every fragment of information.
The Raiden Shogun... Ei... appearing in public? he thought, a genuine shock running through him. After secluding herself for so long in the Plane of Euthymia, what made her decide to come out now?
A strange and dark wave of enthusiasm began to surge within him. This wasn't just curiosity. It was something deeper, more primal. A desire to see firsthand the figure at the center of all the chaos in this nation, the figure that was his main goal!
He couldn't hold back the smile that slowly curved his lips behind the mask.
However, as he was about to start moving with the crowd, he suddenly caught another snippet of conversation.
"It's a shame, the speech at the square will only last a short while," a woman said. "I heard after that, she'll head straight back to Tenshukaku."
Charles's expression behind the mask changed instantly. His lips, which had been smiling, now tightened into a thin line. His brows furrowed.
Damn it! He couldn't help cursing inwardly.
He looked toward the crowd moving to the main square, then estimated the distance.
Too far. Damn it! If I run to the square now, it'll all be over by the time I arrive, he thought, a cold frustration creeping within him. I won't get a chance to see her up close... Let's think the other way; if I can't see her up close, I just need to see her from afar. I need a high place!
At least let me see her face!
Without wasting any more time, he turned and quickly left the place, moving against the flow of the crowd. He no longer walked leisurely. He now moved swiftly, slipping into narrow empty alleys, searching for shortcuts to the higher ground behind the city.
His steps were fast and almost silent, his ronin cloak fluttering behind him as he jumped over low fences and climbed steep stone stairs.
After a few minutes that felt like forever, with slightly ragged breath, he finally reached his destination: the peak of a small hill overlooking the entire Inazuma City.
From there, the view was breathtaking. He could see the main square now packed with a sea of people, and in the distance, the majestic Tenshukaku palace towering high into the sky like a giant spear.
However, as he focused his gaze on the main stage in the square, his heart sank.
There were only a few officials from the Tenryou Commission, and no sign of the Electro Archon!
The crowd below was starting to disperse slowly, their faces adorned with satisfied smiles.
Don't tell me I'm late? He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The bitterness of swallowing saliva lingered in his throat, leaving a deep trace of disappointment.
After all this effort, do I have to fail?
No, of course not!
He wouldn't give up.
Instantly, his sharp eyes scanned the entire city again, searching, hoping.
And at that moment, his gaze stopped on the main road stretching straight from the square to the Tenshukaku gate.
There, he saw a woman wearing a kind of luxurious and intricate kimono. Her extremely long and wide sleeves, typical of a furisode, had asymmetrical cuts, with an inner layer of deep red contrasting the dark purple outer.
Under the kimono, she wore tight dark purple clothing that hugged her body perfectly, with a cut at the chest adorned with gleaming gold accents. Her short skirt in light purple had a high slit on the right side, revealing her slender thigh wrapped in asymmetrical stockings.
Her slim waist was tied with a wide red obi, bearing the Inazuma emblem. Her long purple hair was beautifully braided, adorned with fan-shaped hairpins and sparkling flowers.
It was the Raiden Shogun!
She moved gracefully and slowly. And in the midst of the procession, she was surrounded by samurai guards.
Charles's heart felt like it stopped beating.
From afar, he could only see her back.
However, even from her back alone, he could feel an unmatched aura of majesty and power. Every step was measured and full of authority, every movement of her arms so graceful and perfect.
Her purple kimono suddenly fluttered gently in the wind, her long dark braid dancing on her back.
Charles's entire being was now focused on that one figure, his breath held in his throat, his body frozen in place. At the same time, his heart pounded hard, as if a long-extinguished flame now blazed again, burning every cell with a desire so strong it felt piercing.
As the procession almost reached the main gate of Tenshukaku, the woman's figure suddenly stopped. Then, with a slow motion full of eternal calm, she turned, as if she could sense the burning gaze from afar.
For the first time, Charles saw her face clearly.
And the world around him seemed to vanish.
That face was a divine masterpiece. Her skin as pale as the finest porcelain, her large eyes deep purple with light blue pupils that seemed to hold galaxies within, and under her right eye, a small mole that only added to her inhuman beauty. Her long hair was dark violet, but at the ends, the color lightened and shone with a soft Electro glow.
Charles was transfixed from afar, his eyes blazing with an unstoppable fire. His breath ragged, his blood surging hot through his body. Unconsciously, his hands clenched tightly, driven by a burning desire to possess, conquer, and stand equal.
The divine beauty and aura of authority emanating from the Archon shackled every sense of his.
This awakened a primal lust that had long been buried!
...
A/N: It's getting closer to the end!
Btw, I'm still expecting comments!
If you want to read the 7 advanced chapters with a faster update frequency than the webnovel, you can read it on my patreon whose link is below:
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