Beast Gacha System: All Mine

No. Of course it would not be Arkai Dawnoro.

Arkai Dawnoro would not be a viable option. First, Arkai had no visible reason to want the Emperor dead. The Emperor’s death gained him nothing. No territory or political advantage. No long-awaited revenge against a man who had wronged him.

There was no grudge or feud. Arkai Dawnoro and Zircon Iondora had been, well, not friends, but at least colleagues of a sort. Rulers of neighboring powers who had learned to coexist without stepping on each other’s tails.

Even if the Cassian Twins wanted to frame someone, and framing someone was clearly part of their plan, given the way they were asking him to claim credit and let the guild networks spread rumors, they would choose a target who made sense.

Arkai Dawnoro’s name would not slot neatly. It would catch on the edges, snag and tear and leave everyone asking the same obvious question. But why would he?

And second... Well.

Second was simply that Arkai Dawnoro was Arkai Dawnoro.

It was one thing to meddle with the human empire, like, for example, to kill its emperor. But Arkai Dawnoro was something else entirely.

The Cassian Twins were bold, as evidenced by the fact that they had killed an emperor and were now planning to kill a Saintess, but they were not stupid. They would think dozens of times before touching Arkai Dawnoro.

Also, the Twins were kind. And Arkai was kind too. They were neither of them the sort of people who would do evil to one another. Truly.

What had made him think of Arkai being framed at all was the Saintess situation. If the Twins wanted him to take credit for Ruby Vaiva’s death, then Arkai might become a consideration. Because Arkai would want the Saintess dead.

First, there had been the false prophecy. Ruby Vaiva had announced to the world that Arkai Dawnoro was dead.

Then, after that, there was the matter of Mount Saede. Ruby Vaiva’s husband, that bastard Nikolas, had intercepted the former Saintess’s prophecy. The war didn’t happen without a reason.

But the Twins’ intention was to make the Saintess’s death look like an accident. If it was an accident, there was no one to blame.

So there should not be any connection to Arkai Dawnoro.

Right?

Roarke was still turning this over in his mind when Ivy spoke again.

"You look like you want to ask another question, Master Roarke."

Ivy’s head was tilted. There was something almost fond in her expression.

"How about you just ask?"

She invited generously, sounding like she would answer.

So Roarke decided to bite the bullet.

"Why?"

Ivy blinked. "Why what?"

"Why..." Roarke paused and measured his words. "Why all of this? I want to know what I am involved in."

There. He had asked.

Ahhh—It was a trap, right? Obviously it was a trap. This woman had been suspicious of him not five minutes ago.

She had noted his unusual questions, his strange concern with timing, his deviation from years of professional silence, and he had walked directly into her open hands like a mouse volunteering for the cat’s mouth.

Stupid, stupid Roarke. You had one job!

But then—

"Eh? Hehehe." Ivy laughed. "Does the Saintess and the Emperor have things to do with you, Master? Could it be... they were sensitive targets for you?"

Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"I truly cannot understand what the problem is here."

Roarke’s brain stuttered to a halt.

"But I will answer you anyway, alright?" Ivy’s smile softened. "For old time’s sake."

Ah.

Ahhh.

Was he... safe?

Perhaps they considered him one of their people, after all?

"I was annoyed, you see?" Ivy’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "Like, really annoyed. That Saintess is shit. The Emperor was shit. My bestie had his life ruined because that little shit married a little bitch."

"Also, a righteous saintess was killed because of a different bitch, the one we are planning to kill. See? Makes sense?"

Roarke blinked.

"Eh?"

Ivy reached out and tapped his arm.

"Master Roarke. I am telling you this because we are close, alright?" Her eyes met his. "But if you are shit, we will definitely find a way to execute you. What do you mean you are getting away with murder? That pink-haired saintess should eat shit."

Roarke’s head tilted and it was completely involuntarily. A physical manifestation of the complete bewilderment consuming his higher functions.

"Huh?"

"Okay, okay." Ivy waved a hand as though clearing smoke from the air. "How about this? You tell us if you have people like these shits, people you want to kill. Tell us the reasons, and we will pay you to do the job. We will sponsor you!"

Her smile widened, completely unhinged.

"You have done a good job so far, and you are a good person. Sooooo?" She extended the invitation with lightning speed. "What do you say? Anyone you want dead? Anyone who wronged you? Anyone who deserves a blade in the dark and a convenient accident?"

And Roarke... was still... processing...

Ivy chuckled. She was not, in truth, as suspicious of him as she had seemed. Or rather, she had been suspicious, but suspicion was not the same as distrust.

The fact that Roarke had started asking questions, after all these years of silent, mechanical obedience, might simply mean that he cared. For whatever reasons, about whatever targets. He was finally engaging, and engagement was interesting.

A talent was a talent.

Roarke was an assassin with the best success rate on the continent. He did reject commissions sometimes, but it only added to his mystique. A man who could afford to say no was a man who was very, very good at saying yes.

Ivy knew he killed people for money. She also knew that some of those people were, by certain standards, righteous. Good men, honorable lords, beloved leaders. Until you dug deeper and found the corpses they had buried and the lives they had ruined.

Who knew? Roarke might.

Also, if Roarke was only doing this work to sustain himself, he would be rich by now. The Cassian Twins paid him a fortune each time, after all. More than his going rate and anyone else would offer.

So, where did the money go?

Strange, because it simply vanished! Not into vaults, or properties, or investments or the usual trappings of accumulated wealth.

Guess what? It went to orphanages. Small ones, in small towns, scattered across the continent like seeds thrown by a careless hand.

Everywhere Roarke passed, he left gold behind as a ghost, anonymous and untraceable, filling the coffers of places that took in children who had no one else.

Ivy and Isla had found this fascinating.

So no. She was not truly suspicious of him. She was curious. And if Roarke was finally curious enough to ask questions, if he cared enough about why to break years of professional silence, then perhaps it was time to recruit him.

To guide him toward a better path, so to speak. A path where he could use his talents for something other than... whatever purposeless path he was taking.

How fun would that be?

Especially if the southern beast lords, the ones he had killed without hesitation, had been truly righteous. Then they could help him realize the kind of mistakes he made. See?

Ivy smiled at him, waiting for him to finish processing and respond to her generous offer. Yet Roarke only looked at her.

His eyes had turned complicated. Somehow he looked guilty.

Huh?

Guilty? Why would he look...?

Well, because Roarke had just realized that Ivy Cassia had pure intentions toward him.

And he had been standing here, the entire time, acting as Lady Sees’s eyes and ears, extracting information. He was betraying her.

"Sorry, Princess." He said roughly. "I can’t do this to you after all."

He sighed. He just made a choice he knew would cost him everything he wanted.

And then he did something unexpected.

He turned and looked around at the frozen river, the skeletal trees and the grey winter sky. Then, he raised his voice.

"Lady!" The word echoed across the water, startling a flock of crows from a nearby oak. "I don’t think I can do this. I will prove myself in another way. Please give me another chance."

He was speaking to the sky, as though a dragon might descend at any moment.

"Please." He pleaded. "Wherever you are watching from, come out. I will... I will take responsibility."

Ivy’s eyes widened.

Someone... was here?

Someone had been here the entire time?

Her head whipped around, scanning the treeline, the riverbank, the shadows between the bare branches. She had sensed nothing and she was good at sensing things.

But there was nothing.

No one.

Just Roarke, shouting at the sky like a man calling down judgment.

Until—

"Hehehehehe."

The laugh came from right beside them.

Ivy spun and Lady Sees stood there.

She materialized—manifested there, just like that. As though she had been standing in that exact spot the entire time and Ivy’s eyes had simply... refused to see her?

The black veil was in place, obscuring her features, and the red lips curved upwards.

"What an interesting conversation you had there~"