Chapter 132: Welcome Gifts
[Sara POV] Year 5, Day 207 (Evening)
Sara woke. Slowly. Comfortably. Peacefully.
Sara stretched, savoring the moment. [Sleep was nice. Very nice. Seamstress delivered what Sara asked. Like sleeping in sea of pillows. Even when bed still same. Still massive pile of gold. Diamonds. Other valuables. But feels soft. Comfortable. Perfect. Enchantment works exactly as promised.]
After Sara got back with Dominos last night, friend had used several hours to cheer Sara up — talking, listening, understanding without judgment. And Sara ended up sleeping in Dominos's embrace, held close and safe. Hauling 200 prisoners had taken everything from Sara, but friend made it better.
[But sleep fixed it. Feel restored — ready and properly rested again. Good enchantment, very good enchantment. Worth every pain during surgery. Worth everything.]
Sara listened bit — getting her bearings and understanding the surroundings.
Rhythmic voices coming from outside, familiar and expected. Screaming. The nice snakes being good students, testing things out and finding new ways. Educational sounds mixed with professional torture practice.
[Good students and eager learners. Sara is proud. They take education seriously. Very seriously. Professional dedication.]
[Sara doesn't really want these prisoners here that much anyway—ruining Sara's happy life with friend. But snakes and friend will probably take care of them sooner or later — if not, Sara asks them to go bit harder. Then Sara can have peaceful cave again.]
And something else. From kitchen area. Cooking sounds? Dominos cooking something?
Sara was bit curious about that. Moved toward kitchen with careful, quiet steps — not wanting to disturb friend if she was concentrating.
Well, Dominos had been busy—very busy, extremely busy.
Several pots were on the fire with something cooking in the oven, steam rising and smells spreading with complex aromas mixing together.
The side of the kitchen had a large box full of cookies—many cookies, a mountain of cookies.
[Oh, friend made cookies. Lots of cookies for Sara probably. Nice friend, thoughtful friend, best friend.]
There was various food stuff in several places—ingredients, supplies, and materials. More than Sara remembered having.
[Hmm. More than we should have? Did friend bring supplies? Did friend go shopping? When? How? Sara confused but not concerned. Friend knows what doing.]
[Or maybe was Snakes — taking out some merchant supply convoy. Sara just needs to hope they listened when Sara taught them to do it far away. No need to bring problems home by hunting nearby.]
But there was also a large jar full of some kind of light pink liquid that smelled really nice with a pleasant and attractive aroma.
But Sara's instincts screamed warnings—something strange, dangerous, and poisonous about this liquid.
[Oh, that's poison. Concentrated, powerful, and probably deadly.]
Sara thought about it. [Should probably get Dominos different kitchen corner. Or Sara has alchemy equipment in Item Box. Looted more than one alchemy workshop over centuries. Professional equipment. Proper separation. Mixing poison in kitchen where make food doesn't look safe. Cross-contamination risk. Bad practice.]
Sara also noticed something else. Important detail. Significant detail.
Dominos was wearing waste management enchantment again. Sara could sense it. Recognize it. Professional identification.
[She didn't have it when left yesterday. Must have changed clothing. Got ones with enchantment equipped. Friend wants to make Sara look better. Solidarity. Support. Wearing same "improper" equipment. So Sara not alone. So Sara not only failure. Friend is best friend. Such good friend.]
Sara felt something. Warmth maybe — gratitude and belonging mixing together inside her.
[Friend wears failure equipment voluntarily. For Sara. To support Sara. To show Sara not alone. That's... that's real friendship. That's everything.]
Dominos noticed Sara, looked up, and smiled—genuine and happy as a morning greeting.
"Sit please. Would you like something to drink?"
Sara sat carefully with proper posture and polite guest behavior.
Dominos put a large cup in front of Sara—hot drink, steaming and aromatic with complex smell.
Sara looked at it strangely, both uncertain and concerned about the contents.
[There clearly poison substances in this kitchen. Is it safe to drink? Sara doesn't think Dominos would harm Sara by design. Never by design. But Sara seen how strong her poisons can be. Quite sure they can harm Sara. Even Sara. Maybe especially Sara if concentrated enough.]
Dominos noticed Sara's worry. Saw hesitation. Understood concern immediately.
"Ah, don't worry. It's not different from drink Sara gave me first night. Helps calm. Just needed to make it stronger."
Short pause. Then continued. Important explanation. Crucial information.
"Plus my poisons can't really harm you. You own my soul. All magic runs through soul. Including poison magic. This makes you immune to it."
Sara blinked. [What? Immune? Automatic immunity? From soul oath? That's... convenient. Very convenient. Unexpected benefit.]
Dominos continued explaining. Professional lecture mode. Educational information sharing.
"Even snakes are immune. The gift—mana heart—powers my magic. Makes them also immune. We actually tested it this morning with light poison that should make headache. Had no effect on snakes whatsoever."
She laughed bit. Raised hands like Sara seen people do when try to surrender. Showing harmlessness. Demonstrating helplessness.
"Monster gifts are never really free. Even when given with good wishes. Snakes neutered all my powers against them."
She let the irony settle before continuing.
"With all this mana I have now? I could probably easily kill S-rank monsters with poison storm. Or other attack-focused poison spells. But all my powers totally useless against everyone in this house."
She gestured around her, encompassing the cave, the snakes, Sara — everything in the household.
"You. Snakes. Dress probably. All of you immune to my poisons — permanently, automatically, no exceptions to it. Nothing I could do about it even if I wanted to."
Sara thought about that. Processing. Understanding implications.
[Oh. That's actually perfect. Perfect safety measure. Perfect trust mechanism. Friend can't betray Sara even if wanted to. Can't poison Sara. Can't poison snakes. Can't harm anyone here. All magic neutered against those who matter. Against family. Against home.]
[Monster gifts never free. But this price? This limitation? Actually good. Actually beneficial. Makes trust automatic. Makes safety guaranteed. Makes betrayal impossible. Perfect system. Brutal but perfect.]
Sara picked up cup. Drank. Hot and soothing, calming effect spreading immediately through her — strong mixture, expertly brewed by friend.
"This is good," Sara said — simple and honest, her direct way of showing appreciation.
Dominos smiled, relieved and happy. "I'm glad. Made it stronger because... well, yesterday was hard. For Sara. Thought you might need extra help calming and processing the day."
[Friend understands. Friend cares. Friend makes special drink to help Sara feel better. This is real friendship — the kind where someone shows up with action, not just words.]
Sara continued drinking, comfortable silence settling between them as morning peace filled the kitchen.
Then Sara remembered something important — a curious detail she needed to ask about.
"How did friend get all this food? Sara doesn't remember having so much. When did friend go shopping? Or Snakes did shopping somewhere?"
Dominos laughed. Genuine amusement. "I waited in Riverton Station several hours yesterday. While Sara handled... business. All shops were already closed by that time. Midnight and later. But various inns and pubs were still open."
She gestured at ingredients. "So I just paid some gold and bought food ingredients directly from one inn kitchen. Cooks watched bit strange. But gold is gold. They were happy to sell."
She paused with a small shrug. "Had to pay more than normal. Late night premium. But it worked out — got what we needed." She gestured toward the oven. "Oh, and made something for our guests too."
[Guests? Oh. Outside. Mr. Evil Officer and his men. Friend made food for prisoners. Considerate. Professional hospitality. Even to trash. Sara approves — no need to keep them hungry unless it's needed for some specific reason.]
Then Dominos took some cookies from the oven — fresh and hot, still steaming. Placed them on a plate with a large cup of milk and brought everything to Sara.
"Here. Try these."
Sara took cookie. Bit into it. Chewed.
Then froze.
[What. What is this. This is... this is BEST cookie Sara ever gotten. By massive margin. By impossible margin. What the hell did friend make with them? This is divine. This is perfect. This is beyond anything Sara ever tasted. Ever.]
Sara stared at the cookie, then at Dominos — her expression showing complete shock and disbelief at what she'd just tasted.
Dominos saw Sara's surprise and smiled. She picked up the large jar with light pink liquid—the one Sara had noticed before that smelled nice but dangerous.
"This thing is named Sweet Death, one of those strange things you can create with poison magic."
She held the jar up to light where the liquid glowed slightly—beautiful, deadly, and perfect.
"It's one of most pleasant tasting, sweet things in existence. Mages usually try to make it as less poisonous as possible. Then alchemists clean even more so it becomes usable as food ingredient. Still can be dangerous if not handled properly. But taste is near divine. People pay fortunes for it."
She gestured at cookies. "Used that together with Emperor bee honey in cookies Sara eats. Combination is... well, Sara can taste result."
[Oh. That explains it. Legendary poison ingredient plus legendary monster honey. Combined. In cookies. No wonder taste is impossible. No wonder divine. This is luxury beyond wealth. This is ingredient combination only monsters could use safely. Only friend could make. Only Sara could eat without worry. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.]
Sara ate more cookies. Many cookies. Best cookies. Divine cookies. Perfect cookies.
[Happy-happy. Sara is happy-happy. This is good day. Good morning. Good life. Sara is pleased.]
When mostly done—still had cookies left but felt satisfied—Dominos spoke with a forming suggestion.
"Let's go share with our guests also."
[Oh, the prisoners outside. Food for them too. Let's go feed the trash before snakes kill them all.]
Dominos asked Sara to take some large heavy pots full of porridge, explaining while pointing.
"This porridge is real energy food. Keeps our guests healthy and alive — don't want them dying from hunger. Want them functional and useful for the educational sessions."
She continued explaining in her teaching voice. "Snakes helped me get some herbs. This S-rank haunt is a gold mine for those. Just took several tries using pictures from encyclopedia as our only guide until we got the right things. Lots of trial and error."
[Oh. Friend and snakes worked together. Gathered and tested until they found the right herbs. Team effort. Sara is impressed.]
Dominos took the large box of cookies — guest cookies, a special welcome gift for the prisoners.
They walked outside together, Sara carrying the pots and Dominos carrying the cookie box like proper food service.
The setup was mostly the same as yesterday—prison cave with guards inside, snakes patrolling, and security maintained.
But now also fence area. Connected to guest cave. Outdoor space with several tables where prisoners tried to learn hard, desperate to avoid their colleagues' fate of failing the tests.
There was also a large clock mounted prominently with a table showing testing times. Sara remembered friend had asked yesterday if she had any clocks, so Sara had given her one—a big one looted from a clock tower long ago. It actually looked quite nice here, functional and imposing.
Sara saw Mr. Evil Officer in one of the corners, separated from his other men. Probably already hated for selecting torture victims — isolated and despised by everyone.
He still wore the panties and dress with waste management enchantments. Still had the Fool's Box. Still collared. But clearly miserable and shunned by his former subordinates.
[Good. Fitting punishment. Leader who sacrificed his men. Now abandoned by them. Karma biting hard.]
Dominos spoke in her calm professional voice. "Snakes, please take current lesson subject and move with other guests."
Snakes obeyed immediately, lifting the test subject — a bloody mess of a person, barely alive — and carrying him toward the fence area with practiced handling.
Sara saw how the snakes healed him. But the process was bit funny — strange and unusual compared to normal healing.
[They cast clearly very powerful healing spells. Strong magic. Proper technique. But effect is quite slow. Very slow. Eventually healed though. Eventually functional. Just... takes time.]
Dominos explained in her professional lecture mode.
"Snakes can all use healing magic. But it's highly specialized — designed to heal other snakes and support the pack. A racial ability they're born with."
She gestured at the test subject being healed. "So I asked snakes to try healing guests after sessions. Allows reuse of the subjects and teaches snakes new skills at the same time. So if needed they can heal you or me one day. Practical training that builds real capability."
She paused for the significance to land. "Happily our guests are a wide mix of different races. Humans, dwarves, beastkin, gnomes — heck, they even have an elf. Perfect training range, since each race teaches different biology and requires different techniques."
Sara reasoned through that. [Friend really cares for snakes. Thinks long plan — not just torture for revenge, but education and skill-building that makes snakes more capable and valuable. Real investment in their growth. Strategic thinking.]
Dominos almost like reading Sara. Added quickly. "Artemis talked a lot about self-development and helping others do the same in your household. So I'm just trying to be helpful and supportive to those Sara cares about. Proper household management structure."
Sara thought about that. Complex thoughts. Complicated reasoning.
[This Artemis. She clearly sent friend through hell. Brainwashed her. Manipulated her. Broke her. Rebuilt her. Made her into tool. Made her into weapon disguised as servant. Seven years of nightmare. Seven years of torture. Seven years of systematic destruction.]
[But also taught useful things. Real skills. Valuable knowledge. Professional expertise. Household management. Long-term planning. Care for subordinates. Everything friend demonstrates now. Everything friend uses well. Everything friend applies professionally.]
[Not sure what to say. Not sure what to do if Sara should one day meet this Artemis. Hate her for what she did to friend? Thank her for making friend capable? Both? Neither? Complicated. Very complicated. Problem for future. Not today's problem.]
The snakes guided all the guests into the fenced area—all of them, nearly 200 prisoners, all naked, collared, and terrified, watching Dominos with growing fear, understanding, and horror.
[They see what she is, what she can do, what she's been doing, and what's coming. Understanding and fear spreading. Perfect.]
Dominos then started to talk in her clear professional presentation voice.
"Hello, kind gentlemen. We're changing rules now a bit. We don't want you all dying to hunger or anything. So—" pointed to Sara, to pots "—those pots here contain high-energy porridge. You all military men, so you've probably seen similar foods. Various energy bars and such. Standard field rations concept."
She continued in clinical educational tone. "We're giving you all currently one free serving. After that you need to work for food. Help friends here—" pointed to snakes "—by helping them improve their skills. Volunteer for sessions and contribute to their learning. Then you earn meals."
An evil smile spread across her face — beautiful and dangerous. "Oh, and this porridge tastes really bad. It also acts as warmup for the session after that. Proper motivation built right into the conditioning."
She added more. "But if you're very good students yourself, there's a reward. Get ten questions right on the legal tests, and you earn an extra divine cookie and can skip helping snakes for that day."
Sara reasoned through that. [Ten questions right? That's near impossible. Even five from those random testing boards are HARD to impossible. But still a theoretical chance to avoid torture. Should make them even more motivated to learn. Very clever. Professional manipulation.]
Then Sara had a horrible idea with all the laws and rights they were forcing those guys to learn. [What if someone here starts quoting worker protection laws? Republic has so many. Then... nah, Sara can just make one new law: while they're here, what Sara says is final. Problem solved.]
Sara continued reasoning about the torture-for-food system. [Super evil. They have to volunteer for torture sessions if they want food. Self-selection. Willing participation. Makes it worse somehow. Makes it more horrible. Psychological torture before physical torture. Friend is master at this. Professional cruelty. Expert manipulation.]
Dominos continued. Voice lighter. Almost cheerful. "Oh, and as welcome gift, each one will get one cookie. It's probably most divine taste you've ever tasted. True fair warning—it has small surprise. Don't worry, it doesn't kill or anything. Just your choice if you want it or not."
Then took one cookie. Ate it. Visible pleasure. "See? No harm."
Then gave one to Sara. Sara ate. Also confirmed. "It's good."
The feeding started with porridge distribution — an efficient professional process.
The porridge got some really strong reactions — taste horror visible on every face as bodies tried to reject the food, gag reflexes triggering everywhere.
[Horrible taste, the worst taste. But they eat anyway because they need food, the alternative is starvation, and it's the only option. Professional survival forcing consumption.]
But the fact that they'd need to go through hell to get food again in future — that they'd need to volunteer for torture and earn their next meal through suffering — everyone understood. Everyone ate anyway. Survival came first.
Sara got curious. Took small taste of this porridge.
[What does it—]
Most horrible taste by large margin Sara ever eaten. Ever. Worse than anything. Worse than everything. Absolute worst. Direct opposite of divine cookies. Hell-taste. Nightmare-flavor. Impossible bad.
Spit it out instantly. Couldn't help it. Automatic rejection. Body refused. Mouth refused. Everything refused.
[How. How is this possible. How can friend make divine cookies and hell porridge. What kind of skill is that. What kind of expertise. Friend is master. True master. Of everything. Good and bad. Divine and horrible. All of it.]
Some prisoners were paranoid at first about cookies. There was warning about surprise. What surprise? Trap? Poison? Death? Hesitation visible. Fear showing.
But after first few tasted and said it was divine. And after how horrible porridge tasted. Everyone wanted something good. Everyone wanted relief. Everyone wanted divine taste to replace hell taste.
Everyone ate the cookie that was given. All of them, no exceptions or refusals — just desperate consumption of the only pleasure available, one moment of happiness before whatever came next.
Sara and Dominos returned to the cave, walking back in comfortable silence after professional completion of the task.
Sara asked the important question that had been bothering her. "What was surprise?"
Dominos explained almost casually, matter-of-fact in her clinical tone. "They'll hate themselves tomorrow — headache, nausea, diarrhea, and a few other interesting things. Nothing deadly, just bad enough to make them miserable. All recoverable though."
She continued with more details. "And this porridge is also bit special. Even one or two spoonfuls give enough energy to live for weeks. But you only feel that belly is full for one or two days after that. Then it simulates extreme hunger feeling — psychological torture paired with physical sensation, creating a desperate need to eat again. Even when you actually don't need to."
She paused for emphasis. "So they'll be very eager to help snakes after that. Hunger is an excellent teacher when you weaponize it properly."
Sara reasoned through that. [Brilliant evil. They get food. But then suffer tomorrow. Then feel extreme hunger. Then volunteer for torture just to eat again. Then eat hell porridge. Then get divine cookie with more suffering built in. The cycle keeps reinforcing itself with no escape. Friend designed perfect prison — perfect revenge for Sara, exactly what those evil guards deserve.]
Sara looked at Dominos — friend who understood, who helped Sara get perfect revenge, who made everything better.
[Sara has friend. Sara has home. Everything Sara needed.]