Yanlu stared, wide-eyed, at the creature hovering before her. The bee—if it could still be called that—was massive, its golden wings thrumming with power, each beat stirring the air like a living storm. The glint of its stinger was long enough to pierce through armor.

"This…?" she breathed, unable to find words. "This thing just—grew?"

"Impressive, isn't it?" Alina said softly, her pink eyes bright with childlike wonder. "That's Luciel's ability. You'll get used to seeing impossible things around here."

Yanlu blinked, half in awe, half in disbelief. "Used to it? I doubt I ever will."

Luciel stood beside the open window, watching the Queen Bee's wings shimmer in the sunlight. "Go," he said calmly. "There's a cliff on the far side of the turtle's shell—build your hive there."

The golden creature hummed once, a resonant sound that vibrated through the study, then darted out the window in a blur of light. The air trembled in her wake.

Luciel exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Well… that takes care of one problem," he murmured. But his mind was already moving elsewhere, gears turning behind his calm eyes.

The Queen Bee Contract—that was what the system had called it. The ability was unlike any other he'd inherited so far. It wasn't raw strength or elemental power—it was control. Command. A binding force that could anchor loyalty itself.

At its current level, the contract could hold five people—or beasts—at a time, for as little as a year, or as long as half a century. The longer the duration, the lighter the restrictions became. But a willing participant could accept any term freely, with no side effects or backlash.

For Luciel, it was more than just a magical tool—it was a solution. He could finally trust people with crucial responsibilities without fearing betrayal. He could grant power without losing sleep wondering if it would be turned against him.

"Five slots…" he murmured, folding his hands over the desk. "Not many. But enough—for now."

He was already thinking of candidates.

The mercenaries? The thieves? Those who had sworn loyalty only because they had nowhere else to go? He could bind them, ensure their faithfulness. Yet, that wasn't what he wanted long-term. Trust born of fear was brittle. Still—he couldn't deny the practical value.

"Luciel?"

Alina's soft voice broke his train of thought. She stood near the desk, pointing to a bundle of tanned hides on the floor. "What should I do with these?"

Luciel blinked, pulling himself back to the moment. "Ah. Leave them there. I'll have Qinlan sort them later."

He paused, then his gaze sharpened. "Actually… before that, I have another task for you. For both of you."

Elara, standing with arms folded near the window, lifted an eyebrow. "We're listening."

"Do you remember a woman named Liyi Yi?" Luciel asked, his tone low, deliberate. "The one we traded with in the Tenth-Floor City."

Both women exchanged a glance. Alina nodded first. "Of course. Hard to forget her."

Elara's expression softened slightly. "You want us to find her?"

"Yes. In Amestris City," Luciel said. "We need someone to promote the new trade district. She has connections, influence, and a way with people. If anyone can draw attention, it's her."

Alina stretched, yawning lightly. "Guess we're heading back to Amestris again. Feels like we were just there."

Luciel chuckled quietly. "That's because you were."

Then, turning to Yanlu, his voice gentled. "You, however, should rest. Take some time to learn the city—understand how things work here before you rush into another mission."

Yanlu shook her head. "No. I can work now." Her voice was steady, her amethyst eyes clear. "I don't want to stay behind."

Luciel studied her for a moment. "You've just joined us," he said softly. "You don't have to prove anything yet."

"Luciel," Elara interjected, a faint smile touching her lips. "Let her come. She's not the type to sit still—and she's more useful beside us than pacing the halls."

Luciel considered her words, then nodded. "All right. But make sure she's equipped. Take her to the armory—get her a set of Ghost Armor. She'll need it."

Elara's silver eyes glinted. "Understood."

She turned, motioning for Yanlu to follow. Alina trailed after them, humming lightly as the three women left the study.

The halls of the City Lord's mansion were quiet as they walked. The distant hum of machinery and the faint smell of polished stone filled the air.

"You didn't need to be so quick to volunteer," Elara said, glancing sideways at Yanlu.

Yanlu's expression was calm, but her hands were clenched at her sides. "I want to see Nijisha," she said. "And the others. I need to tell them what's happened."

Elara's steps slowed. "You mean about the Angel Wings?"

"Yes," Yanlu said quietly. "They deserve to know."

Elara frowned, the silver strands of her hair catching the torchlight. "Why? They betrayed you once already. And you think sharing that secret will make them change?"

"They're still my comrades," Yanlu answered. "And they're dying. You know what the virtual ghost infection does. Nijisha's been fighting it for years—so have the others. They don't have much time left."

Her voice softened, a trace of pain threading through her tone. "If they knew Angel Wings could suppress the infection… they might finally have hope."

Elara's gaze lingered on her for a moment before she sighed. "Hope is dangerous, Yanlu. It makes people desperate. Desperate people can't always be trusted."

"Maybe," Yanlu admitted. "But I can't just abandon them."

A beat of silence passed before Elara's expression shifted—cold calculation flickering beneath the surface. "Fine," she said at last. "Tell them. Convince them. And if you can persuade them to join Black Tortoise City, I'll make sure Luciel gives them the Angel Wings himself."

Yanlu stopped walking, eyes wide. "You'd really do that?"

"Of course," Elara said simply. "Black Tortoise needs strength. If they're willing to stand with us, they'll earn it."

Behind them, Alina gave a small, amused whistle. "You're awfully good at recruiting, Elara."

Elara smirked. "I'm practical."

They reached the inner arsenal—a heavy steel door set into the stone corridor. A soft bleating sound came from behind it.

Alina grinned. "Ah, our mighty gatekeeper."

Elara pushed open the door. Inside, a large six-horned goat was pacing lazily before the racks of armor. Its coat was glossy, its expression almost smug as it chewed lazily on a pile of green vines.

Yanlu blinked. "Is… that eating vegetables?"

"Yes," Alina said seriously. "Don't underestimate it. That's the Hexagon Sheep. Looks harmless, but it can reflect any attack it takes. Even mine." She rubbed her arm, remembering the bruises. "Learned that the hard way."

The goat gave a loud bleat, as if proud of its reputation.

Elara stepped forward and held out an identity tag. The goat sniffed it, then trotted aside obediently to make room. "See?" she said dryly. "Perfect guard."

Yanlu's eyes followed the vines the goat was eating—fresh, bright green leaves. "Wait… are those sweet potato vines?"

Elara glanced back. "Mm. Yes. We grow plenty. If you want some, tell Sophia to fry a batch for you tonight."

Yanlu's mouth opened slightly. "…You fry vegetables for dinner?"

"Of course. They're delicious." Alina leaned closer with a teasing grin. "You'll learn—everything in Black Tortoise tastes better than it should."

Yanlu didn't respond. Her world had been constant struggle—cold rations, survival scraps, death around every corner. Seeing livestock fed on greens and people casually discussing fried vegetables felt… surreal.

This place really doesn't follow common sense, she thought, dazed.

The inner arsenal gleamed with faint lamplight. Rows of armor hung along the walls—each piece sleek, black, and faintly translucent, like solidified shadow. The faint hum of spirit energy filled the room.

"Come in," Elara said, motioning Yanlu forward. "Let's get your measurements."

Yanlu stepped inside, still scanning everything with a soldier's caution. "All of this… for one city?" she murmured.

"For one dream," Elara corrected. "Black Tortoise isn't just a city—it's a promise. Remember that."

Yanlu fell silent as Elara adjusted the armor's fit around her shoulders, the soft whisper of fabric and metal filling the quiet room. Alina leaned against a rack, smiling faintly.

In less than a day, Yanlu had gone from fugitive to ally, from disbelief to awe. And even now, as the realization

settled in, she could only think one thing—

Nothing about Black Tortoise City made sense.

But maybe, just maybe, that was why it worked.

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