No sense of safety.
No sense of ownership.
Not even the most basic of arousal.
"Quite a fraud you are, Guildmaster." Clench. "My relatives comforted me better than this."
Her aunt's knock on the door.
Her uncle's undeterred smile.
She'd been a loser in her past life.
"And I felt... more secure. Loved. As the worst person that could ever live."
Mochi's head hung.
Ah... this irritation.
She really hated this.
Terrible. Empty.
As if her soul had been chiseled out.
"Little Thief."
"Shut it."
Her hand loosened. "Just tell me why you're here."
She stared into the Guildmaster's abyss, exhausted. "You couldn't even provide basic food and water earlier. Hurry up before I skip your dialogue, Quest Giver."
A role. Pixels clustered together.
This Guildmaster, in the end, was no different.
Unpredictable? Irrelevant.
World-bending magic? Irrelevant.
An exchange of benefits. A quest and a reward.
That's all she amounted to.
"..."
Silence festered. One shadow stilled; the other faltered.
Mochi just... stared. Not at the Guildmaster's eyes as usual.
It was as if the woman existed, yet didn't.
"Hm..." The Guildmaster tapped her chin, blood dripping onto the floorboards. "Bored?"
"Don't know."
Mochi drank the blood-milk.
Hm... sourer than before.
Not even as tasty as the one from Rosemary.
"Maybe I'm jealous. Or frustrated."
Of not being an exception? Hardly.
But just as the Guildmaster saw her as a pawn...
She'd treat her as just another quest-giving NPC.
Simple.
"I won't deny I want something... familiar."
She gulped the last drop. "Maybe give-and-take isn't for me."
A speedrunner would abandon even rewards that didn't shorten the timer.
"And you're no exception."
"...I've been a poor Master, it seems."
No regret—just amusement in that curved gaze.
"And you're unusually talkative. Quest. Now."
"Very well."
The Guildmaster retreated—the first time she'd ever stepped back from prey.
Fine. Mochi was her first true obsession anyway.
"Earlier..."
That "exception" claim? A lie.
Mochi had always been special to her.
An obsession to kill. To own even her death.
Hatred grew sweeter the more unpredictable her prey became.
"I'll await your embrace regardless. Now then—"
A purple portal materialized.
The woman's hand emerged, clutching a maid outfit trimmed in gold lace.
Mochi crossed her arms. "I'm not cosplaying until properly fed."
"No need. This is for your... assassination."
Mochi took it. "Marquis Amberstone's mansion?"
"Indeed. But don't kill the Marquis yet." The Guildmaster glanced at Sheryl. "I need three targets removed with absolute stealth."
Agent 47-style. And Diane's a time-bending bastard.
"Names."
"Elodie Briarwood. Ballas Vaelmont. Silas Gravesford."
"Head Maid. Knight Captain. Head Butler."
Mochi frowned. "Corpses?"
"Unnecessary. Just ensure the mansion remains unaware of their deaths."
"Reason?" She stored the outfit.
"They'll be replaced by my subordinates."
Face-mimicry skills. How terrifying. "Time limit?"
"One hour. Less, ideally." The Guildmaster chuckled. "Sheryl and others will handle the rest."
A finger-snap.
She vanished.
The only trace left—the blood-milk—was already consumed.
Mochi's heart chilled further.
<...>
"Not for you." She eyed the meter. "Did you interfere again?"
<...We didn't.>
Silence.
"I see." Mochi sighed. "Forget something?"
<...loading...>
"Didn't see my kidnapper as the innocent type." She glared at the thorny UI.
<...>
"Duties like what? You're a knight from before?"
The Guildmaster's warning tugged at her mind.
<...>
"Free to be lost again, huh?"
"Free... what, Miss?"
Sheryl trembled as Mochi deadpanned at her.
"Ah! S-sorry!" Sheryl hung her head. "Brother said never to interrupt people talking to themselves. Too dangerous."
"..."
"But you're my savior! I'd never judge! Mm! I'll always be grateful—even if you're, uh, not quite right in the head."
"..."
Mochi stretched out her arm.
"E-eh? Savior, don't pinch my—mmph!"
"Stay still unless you want your neck snapped."
Sheryl's whimpers continued.
Mochi didn't ask about her deal with the Guildmaster.
Or why she was here.
Unnecessary.
She just needed to break another record. That's all.
That's how...it always has been.
...
"Did I wish..." The hand loosened.
Did I truly...wish for something different?
The thoughts lingered in her lips like forgotten prayers.
In this World where she was casted alone?
In this World she willingly embraced madness in?
Or... did the Guildmaster's madness draw her in, like a beast to another?
"Sa-savior..."
Mochi squinted at Sheryl.
"Are you perhaps...feeling down? I-I can uh-"
"Just stay still."
Sheryl's cheek was never let go that day.
-------------------------
After much cheek-pinching, sleep, and travel...
They reached Ashvein's gates.
"Masks on."
Hans' advice. Sheryl donned silk; Mochi adjusted her Thief Guild Mask (mouthless, but Hans had modified it).
The masked guards checked documents, nodded, and let them pass.
The town reeked of piss and decay. Mice scurried in alleys. Sunlight gleamed obliviously.
"Short buildings... just like vanilla."
"Um... Miss Savior?"
"Be quick." Mochi turned.
"I still don't... know your name. It's been a day and a half."
"Deal with it."
A yell faded as Mochi leapt from the carriage.
"System."
"Mm." She grappled a rooftop. "Buy
Basic vanilla thief skills. Quaint.
Acquired:
• Swift Grasp: +50% pickpocket success rate.
• Lure: Create noises/tremors for distractions.
"Savior!"
"Ugh. What?"
Sheryl sprinted toward her, Hans' carriage behind.
"We're supposed to arrive together! Then I introduce you as a maid—"
"Ah. So you did deal with the Guildmaster."
"It's not a secret! Just—"
"Enough." Mochi walked away. "Start the timer."
<...>
"Five minutes." The targets' locations hadn't changed. After a day and a half of boredom, her plan was prepared airtight.
"Alright..."
"Miss Savior! Come on!"
"Let's begin."
A grapple. Then a dash-grapple.
The townsfolk saw only a blur—and Sheryl stomping in frustration.