While Bell was off on his daily adventure in the Dungeon, Luthar finally opened his shop.
No signs advertised its presence.
No shouting vendors hawked wares.
No flashy banners proclaimed its existence.
Just a clean, reinforced door and a small placard that read:
"Mechanica: Weapons and Enhancements."
Inside, he had arranged a modest selection of weapons. The standard swords, however, were relegated to a single box with a handwritten sign:
"50% Discount."
Luthar held no illusions about a customer stampede on day one. Most adventurers were creatures of habit—loyal to their preferred smiths and forges. But habits bent under the weight of a bargain. Whether they came sniffing for cheap swords, quality gear, or performance-enhancing upgrades, his money-making plan was sound.
For his own safety, he meticulously avoided selling anything that could pose a threat to him. Even the weapons he intended to release later had already been designed with built-in countermeasures.
By midday, the first curious faces trickled in.
Low-ranked adventurers, under-equipped, hunting for deals.
One group hefted a cheap blade—and stopped. The balance was perfect. Smoother than the rough-edged junk they'd overpaid for. The sword they had bought for 11,000 valis seemed like a crude toy compared to this one… now going for just 5,000.
"Boss... is there something wrong with these swords?" one asked, eyeing the discount pile.
The question lingered, thick with unspoken suspicion. The adventurer caught himself, quickly amending, "I mean… why are they priced so low? Feels off."
Luthar leaned against the counter, arms folded. His expression was unreadable behind the mask.
"Simple," he replied. A hint of a smirk slipped through. "I don't have the overhead most forges do. If I wanted to, I could produce thousands in a day."
The group exchanged looks.
"Should we buy one?" another murmured.
"Let's just test it," the leader said. "Take one into the Dungeon. If it holds up, we'll be back."
Coins changed hands. The servo-skull scanned the payment in silence. Cold, efficient. Luthar said nothing more.
His mind was already elsewhere.
I should build a simpler forge for these swords. Wasteful to run them through high-tier systems.
Then a flicker across one of the console screens interrupted his train of thought. A live feed stabilized—one of his scouting servo-skulls, patrolling the lower districts.
It zoomed in.
There she was.
Liliruca Arde.
Cornered.
Two older adventurers loomed over her in a shadowed alley. Their gear bore the faded crest of Soma Familia. One backhanded her with brutal force. The other tore the pouch from her hands.
She didn't scream.
Didn't beg.
Just curled inward like a kicked animal, waiting for it to end.
Luthar's expression didn't change.
Fortunate timing, he thought, leaving the shop in the care of the servo-skull—a poor business decision, since it lacked the capacity to conduct actual sales.
By the time he arrived, the adventurers were gone. Their laughter echoed down the alley, their pockets jingling with stolen coin.
Liliruca was on her knees, brushing dirt off her sleeves with mechanical focus. Preparing to vanish again into Orario's filth.
She didn't hear him.
Not until the heavy thud of boots made her flinch.
She spun, eyes wide.
Terror,Panic.
Fists clenched. Muscles tensed.
What she saw stopped her breath:
A featureless mask.
A single red glow where an eye should be.
"N-no—I didn't take anything from you!" she blurted, scrambling back.
"Be quiet," Luthar said.
Flat. Cold. Final.
She froze.
Her body obeyed before her mind caught up.
"I—I don't… who are you?" she whispered.
No answer.
He stepped forward, reached down, and lifted her like she weighed nothing.
"Wh-what are you—? Let me go!" she struggled, fists pounding against his arm.
He turned. His cloak swirled around them, a shroud of motion, as he walked away with clinical efficiency.
After a few useless punches and kicking, Luthar sighed.
Annoyance. Nothing more.
Then he knocked her out with a swift motion.
Carefully,he concealed her under his cloak. It wouldn't do to look like he was kidnapping a child.
---
An hour later.
Liliruca jolted upright. Breathe sharply. Eyes wide.
Cold metal pressed against her back. The air smelled sterile, tinged with disinfectant. She blinked, her vision adjusting to the pulsing lights overhead and the silhouette of unfamiliar machines. A low hum vibrated beneath her.
She panicked.
But her injuries had been treated. Cleaned. Bandaged with precision.
Where…?
Rows of mechanical limbs hung above motionless bays. A half-assembled humanoid machine stood nearby—cold, alien, and terrifying.
Then she saw him.
Luthar stood at a console. Fingers tapping commands. He didn't glance her way.
No words.
No acknowledgment.
Only the soft clicks of metal against glass.
The memories returned in a flood—the alley. The pain. The mask.
"Wh-where am I?" she croaked.
"In my lab," he replied.
Her gaze darted to the only door. Seamless. Reinforced. No handle.
"Why… did you bring me here?"
He tapped one final command. The screen dimmed. Only then did he turn.
"To add you to my new collection."
She recoiled at the word.
Collection.
He stepped closer. The servo-skull followed like a silent wraith.
"I' know about you, Liliruca Arde. You're efficient. Clever. Wasted."
Her hands clenched.
Silent.
Watching the floor.
"I want you to work for me. Unconditionally."
"What kind of work?" she asked, her voice unsteady.
"That depends on your potential. Logistics. Inventory. Fieldwork. Combat."
Her eyes flicked to the machines. "Am I… your prisoner?"
"You could call it that. After all If you attempt to flee, I could reduce you to a puppet. A direct extension of my will."
No emotion in his voice. No cruelty. Just pure, unfeeling fact.
Luthar didn't win people over with kindness. He offered control.
A cage with space to move.
Liliruca looked down at her trembling fingers. The walls buzzed with silent menace.
This is a terrible day.
"I'm just a supporter," she whispered. "I don't have anything you need."
"Then I'll make you useful," he said, already returning to his console.
He translated a weapons manual, then gestured to the terminal with a flick.
"Start by reading this. It'll give you a foundation. Tonight, we'll begin strengthening you—physically and otherwise. Nutrient packs are in the cooler."
As he reached the door, he paused.
Perhaps keeping her confined all day was unproductive.
"You may explore the church above if you wish. Don't touch anything marked. And don't try to escape."
He didn't need to say what would happen if she did.