Chapter 132: System Assessment
"For now?"
"Several of your proposals remain too undeveloped to become formal Quest Chains."
"The mills?"
"The mills."
"The entertainment district?"
"Also the entertainment district."
Mirabelle nodded: "That’s fair."
She walked slowly around the model, reading the translucent summaries still hovering above different regions.
At some point, the three-dimensional map before her had begun to glow.
Soft golden light spread across different parts of the miniature duchy, and tiny structures representing the projects they had discussed gradually appeared.
One by one, the miniature versions of her plans emerged across the map, as though Luchsenstein itself were already beginning to imagine its future.
The marketplace glowed over Steinstein.
A line of light traced the roads through the forest. Small golden platforms crossed the western marsh. A school icon pulsed near the castle.
A pale symbol resembling two cupped hands hovered above the proposed hospital site. Below stood a big imaginary structure.
The beacon routes formed fiery threads across the mountains.
It was overwhelming.
Utterly, completely overwhelming.
She had expected Pebbles to react.
She had even expected missions.
But seeing every casual idea transformed into a chain of concrete obligations made the future feel suddenly enormous.
Every reward came with conditions.
Every solution carried risks.
Every road could destroy something.
Every school could fail its pupils.
Every hospital could become unjust.
Every law could help one group while harming another.
She pressed her fingertips against the edge of the map.The carved stone felt cool beneath her skin.
"I thought I’d feel more triumphant."
Pebbles floated closer.
"You do not?"
"I do." She stared at the glowing miniature of Luchsenstein. "But I also feel like I’ve just volunteered to wrestle a mountain."
"Mountains rarely resist deliberately."
"Thank you. That makes it much easier..."
"You are welcome."
Mirabelle snorted. Then she smiled. Wide and bright and impossible to suppress.
The number of missions was terrifying.
The penalties were even worse.
But all of it meant one thing:
Her ideas were possible.
Not easy. Not guaranteed. But possible.
She had a starting point.
She had her mother’s support.
Her grandmother’s approval.
Her mates.
Mirabelle looked up at Pebbles:
"This is good."
Pebbles didn’t answer immediately. The little creature’s expression had changed. His tentacles drew closer to his body.
"Mirabelle."
Something in his voice made her smile fade.
"What?"
"You should not activate all of these developments at once."
She frowned:
"Why not? Some of them will take years anyway."
"That is precisely the problem." Pebbles drifted down until he hovered directly above the heart of Steinstein. "Every major development changes the behavior of the territory."
The golden roads flickered beneath him.
"A new market changes where citizens travel."
The market hall glowed.
"It changes which goods are produced."
The school icon pulsed.
"Education changes what citizens believe they are capable of becoming."
The hospital brightened.
"Improved health changes population growth, labor availability, migration, and life expectancy."
The beacon lines burned brighter.
"Improved security changes military behavior, trade confidence, settlement patterns, and the decisions of neighboring rulers."
Mirabelle’s fingers tightened against the edge of the map.
Pebbles continued.
"Each change creates further changes. Some will support one another. Some will interfere with one another. Some will produce consequences neither you nor the System intended."
The glowing symbols began connecting.
Market to road. Road to school. School to administration. Hospital to marshland village. Trade to migration. Migration to housing. Housing to food demand.
Food demand to land use.
The lines multiplied until the entire model was covered in a web of light.
Mirabelle looked at the system spirit.
"What exactly are you saying?"
"I can calculate probabilities."
Pebbles’ voice was quieter now.
"I can estimate the likely result of a single policy. Of several policies. Even of many interacting policies, if they are introduced gradually and enough information is available."
The web became denser.
"But the more changes you trigger simultaneously, the faster the number of possible outcomes grows."
A few lines turned red. Then vanished.
Others divided into a dozen new branches.
"At a certain point, the future stops behaving like a road."
Pebbles looked at her. There was somethin that look. A shiver traveled down Mirabelle’s spine despite the warmth of the sunlight.
"And you can’t see through it?"
"Not reliably." Pebbles was silent for a heartbeat too long. "Some future variables would become impossible for me to calculate."
Mirabelle looked back at the map.
At the beautiful, glowing chaos covering her duchy.
Pebbles sounded uncertain. And that frightened her a little bit.
She drew a slow breath. The fresh air tasted faintly of stone and summer grass. Then she looked out through the endless ring of windows. The real Luchsenstein stretched beyond the tower in every direction, too vast to hold in a single glance.
"I’m not going to stop changing things just because the future might become difficult to predict."
Pebbles studied her for a long moment.
Then, very slowly, one of his tentacles lifted.
"Probability of you following the recommended conservative development pace..." He paused. "...twelve percent."
Mirabelle grinned.
"That high?"
Pebbles released a tiny, long-suffering sigh.
"Sometimes," the octopus mascot said slowly, "I wonder why the Great System chose you for this job."
Her ears perked up.
"The Great System?" She frowned.
"Chose me? ...Wait. What?"
Pebbles turned toward her.
He blinked once. Twice. Then twice more.
"I didn’t say anything."
"Pebbles..."
"Hm?"
Mirabelle folded her arms.
"You know exactly what I mean."
Pebbles remained perfectly still for a long moment. Then he nodded to himself.
"Mirabelle, I believe you currently possess a sufficient quantity of responsibilities."
"...What?"
"So I’ve decided not to burden you with any additional information today."
He spun around once.
"Besides, I have... an appointment."
"You have an appointment...?"
"Yes."
"You’re a System."
"Correct."
"...With whom?"
Pebbles hesitated.
"...Other Systems."
Mirabelle raised an eyebrow.
"For what?"
Another pause.
"...Synchronization."
She stared at him.
Pebbles stared back.
"...And refreshments."
Mirabelle’s expression remained utterly unconvinced.
"What kind of refreshments?"
"...Digital refreshments."
"...Pebbles."
"Fine."
The little creature let out what sounded suspiciously like an exaggerated sigh.
"It’s a quarterly performance review."
"You have performance reviews?"
"Naturally."
"And who’s conducting them?"
"The Great System."
"So you do answer to someone!"
Pebbles froze.
"...I have already exceeded today’s recommended information quota."
Before Mirabelle could utter another word, he gave her an awkward little wave with two tentacles.
"I’ll see you later."
POOF. He vanished in a tiny cloud of white smoke.
Mirabelle could do nothing but watch as it slowly dispersed into the sunlit air of the tower. After several long seconds, she pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers.
The lynx female took a deep breath, planted both hands on her hips, and nodded decisively.
"Alright."
She glanced around the tower as though there were someone else present she could delegate work to. There wasn’t. She was alone.
A small sigh escaped her lips.
"I suppose that’s my cue."
After everything that had happened today, she had both received and shared more than enough information to keep her occupied for quite some time.
The rest could wait until whenever.
For a brief moment, she simply stood there, staring out across the miniature duchy and the endless landscape beyond the tower windows.
Then something occurred to her. The corners of her mouth slowly curled upward into a distinctly mischievous grin.
Earlier...
She had given her three mates a rather interesting assignment.
’You could use the time to decide which one of you is visiting my room tonight.’
She couldn’t help wondering how seriously they’d taken it.
Had they actually managed to reach a decision?
Or had the three emotionally unstable Beast males somehow turned choosing one person into a full-scale diplomatic crisis?
There was only one way to find out.
Still smiling to herself, Mirabelle turned toward the circular opening in the floor and began the long descent from the tower, eager to discover exactly what conclusion her mates had reached.
_____
Quite some time later, after making a detour to the kitchens to reward herself with a well-earned snack, Mirabelle pushed open the door to her bedroom with far more confidence than caution.
She stepped inside.
And froze.
Behind her, the door slammed shut with a loud bang.
In front of her stood — or rather, lounged — three very underdressed Beastmen.
Lucien lay sprawled on his stomach across her bed, his legs bent lazily at the knees. His fox tail traced slow, content circles through the air while he read a book, occasionally plucking grapes from a nearby platter and absentmindedly popping them into his mouth.
The only thing he was wearing was a pair of underwear.
Silas occupied one of the armchairs, dressed no differently. A glass filled with an amber-colored liquor rested loosely in his hand, which he gently swirled now and then without taking his eyes off the chess-like board game arranged on the small table before him.
Against his dark skin, the intricate tattoos covering his body seemed almost alive, shifting ever so slightly whenever the flickering firelight caught them from a different angle.
Opposite him, Kaelith sat in the second armchair, equally underdressed, moving another piece across the board with calm concentration.
The instant Mirabelle entered, all three Beastmen lifted their heads in unison.