Beast Gacha System: All Mine

"So." Ivy asked. "Will you accept the commission?"

The river murmured beside them, weaving its eternal path through the frozen wood. A bird called somewhere in the distance, the first brave soul to break the winter silence.

Roarke narrowed his eyes.

Even without explicit instruction, he understood what was required of him. Lady Sees had said she would follow and she would most likely watch.

He could not determine where that woman had positioned herself, nor could he sense her presence, but it was better to assume that she was here. Somewhere. That woman could be a dragon, after all.

And Lady Sees was the person who held the key to everything he wanted.

The chance. The barely-there possibility of returning to Arkai Dawnoro’s side. Of becoming his son’s father in more than blood. Of standing in the same room as Rinne and not seeing that sky-collapsing horror reflected back at him.

It was a mirage, perhaps. A faraway illusion shimmering on a horizon he might never reach. But Roarke had decided that he would walk that desert and climb that sand hill forever if he had to.

So he would do whatever served Lady Sees’s best interest. He would extract every piece of information the Dragon Physician might find useful in whatever game she was playing. He would be useful and necessary. He would make himself indispensable enough that she would keep her promise.

"Now?" He asked, trying to prod without sounding as if he was prodding. "Just after the assassination of the Emperor?"

Ivy’s eyes widened innocently.

"Oh." her voice had shifted. Still light, but with a new edge beneath it. "This is the first time you have asked questions, Master Roarke."

Well.

True.

Roarke’s usual approach to commissions was simple to the point of being mechanical. Yes, or no. If yes, listen to the instructions. Execute them perfectly. Disappear. He did not ask for clarification nor would he express concern.

Until now.

"Are you worried?" Ivy asked.

"You said to make it look like an accident." Roarke said, flat and uninflected. "You mean to make it appear that her death has nothing to do with the Emperor’s death?"

"Yes." Ivy’s smile returned. "If you have not yet developed a suggestion for how to achieve this, I will provide mine."

Roarke’s mind raced behind the careful neutrality of his expression.

The next piece of information Lady Sees would want, or needed, was the why. Why did the Cassian Twins want the Saintess dead? What had Ruby Vaiva done to warrant a blade in the dark from two foreign princesses who, by all accounts, had no direct stake in Iondora’s spiritual politics?

But asking would be suspicious.

Roarke had never asked why. Not once. Not in all the years he had worked for the Cassian Twins, accepting their commissions with their exorbitant payments and their peculiar brand of well-meaning manipulation.

And the Cassian Twins were special customers. They paid better than anyone and treated him with something that bordered on respect. Asking why now, after all this time, after a question he had already pushed further than he ever had before...

No. Too dangerous.

"Please give me suggestions, then." He said.

At least this way, he would know what they were planning. And if Lady Sees wanted it sabotaged, he would know exactly where to apply pressure to make the whole thing collapse.

Ivy looked at him.

And there was something in her eyes now. A strange glint.

"How did you know it was me who ordered the Emperor’s assassination?"

Ah.

Roarke’s eyes faltered.

He had not known. Not before Lady Sees had read that message aloud in the reception room, laughing like it was the funniest thing she had heard in years.

But perhaps his earlier question had implied knowledge. Just that he shouldn’t have had enough information to connect the dots together.

"You never made these kinds of remarks before." Ivy said thoughtfully. "You are also never worried about close time-window incidents. That was always for us to worry about, Master Roarke."

Shit.

Roarke’s mind worked furiously.

"It was because I was short on money." Roarke said the excuse smoothly. "So I never questioned anything. I took what was offered and did not ask for details that might complicate the transaction."

"Did you kill the Emperor? Really?"

Roarke asked, the tone just skeptical enough, like he had just had an inkling and now it was all confirmed.

"And you are not short on money now, Master Roarke?" Ivy asked gently, probing, but had not quite decided whether to believe him.

"Circumstances, my Lady." Roarke said simply.

Ivy considered him for two heartbeats and chuckled. "Alright."

"Since you have brought up the Emperor..." Her smile widened, bright and cheerful. "How about you take credit for it?"

Huh—?!

"I will even pay you double your usual price!" Ivy said as if she was cheering. "Think of it as hazard pay. Compensation for the additional... notoriety?"

So she had killed the Emperor.

She had just admitted it, not in so many words, perhaps. A lawyer could argue that she had merely implied. No direct confession had been made. But Roarke was not a lawyer, and Ivy Cassia was not on trial.

She had killed the Emperor of Iondora, and she was offering to pay him double to claim responsibility for it.

Would... Lady Sees find this useful?

Roarke felt the strange sensation of being a double agent.

This woman and her twin sister, Isla, who was undoubtedly somewhere nearby or at least complicit in every word being spoken, had helped him through his darkest days.

Yes, it had been through commission, and yes, it had been transactional, but the money they had paid him, with how exorbitant, reliable, and how on time it was, had kept him alive.

He still felt a bit of a sense of loyalty to them.

But now he had a new purpose. A new reason to keep walking through the desert, climbing that endless sand hill toward a horizon that might never get closer.

Lady Sees.

Lady Sees held the key to everything Roarke wanted, and Roarke would do whatever was necessary to turn that key.

Even if it meant betraying the women who had once saved him.

No, he corrected himself. Not betraying. Just observing and reporting. Serving a different master, temporarily, until he could return to the one he should never have left.

"Tell me the details." He said. "What do you mean, take credit? Who was sending me? Surely not you, if you want me to reveal myself."

Ivy’s smile widened, pleased by his acceptance.

"Just post codes on the assassin guilds. Announce that you have completed the job and that the commissioner owes you the second half of the payment." She waved a hand.

"That is enough. The guilds will handle the rest. The rumors will spread. And you, Master Roarke, will become the man who killed an emperor."

Ah.

Roarke understood.

It was, in fact, something he already did. A trick he had pioneered himself. After completing a commission, especially if the commissioner, whoever they were, showed signs of reluctance to pay the second half of the agreed-upon fee, he would post a message to the guild networks.

A public announcement, of sorts.

I finished the job. Pay me, or you will be my next target.

It was remarkably effective. Fear of death was a powerful motivator. Fear of exposure, even more so. The trick did two things simultaneously, it forced the commissioner to pay what they owed, and it reminded everyone else in the underworld that Roarke was not a blade to be borrowed and discarded.

Other assassins had started doing it too. Imitation, flattery, etcetera.

But this—this—was different.

Ivy Cassia was offering him double his usual fee to become the official killer of Emperor Zircon Iondora.

And he didn’t even know who would be the commissioner.

Wait.

If she did want to frame someone, then he must know.

Who? What if it was the people he cared about?

What if it was Arkai Dawno—