Teresa: Everybody Loves Large Chests (Vol.5)

by Neven Iliev

  “Yes, him,” he confirmed after a short pause. “Just show that face to one of the guards, say you’re here to make a delivery to me and they’ll handle the rest. Oh, and do be extra careful around the secretary outside – she’s not one of us.”

  “Alright, easy enough.”

  Boxxy shifted back into Keira mode then moved onto the other matter it wanted to discuss.

  “Reggie, I need to speak with you about what happened two days ago.”

  “I assume you’re referring to the incident where you encountered one of our ongoing operations?”

  “Yeah. What’s the deal with that?”

  Reggie stood up and intensely bowed towards the seated Keira, practically slamming his head into his desk.

  “I apologize, Mister Morningwood, sir!” he loudly proclaimed. “It was an honest mistake! An oversight! I failed to spread word of our agreement fast enough to reach that particular group!”

  “Shut your face-hole,” the girl-shaped monster growled. “I’m not here to hear your fake apologies and worthless excuses.”

  “Y-you’re not?” the ‘ganger capo warily looked up.

  “Of course not. I already told you, I can’t eat apologies. Besides, I wasn’t going to hold you responsible. I’m well aware that information takes time to circulate. Do you take me for a moron or something?”

  “No-no-no! I wouldn’t even think of insinuating something like that! It’s just that you asked me that question out of the blue and I just assumed-”

  “That I was a gullible idiot who has no idea how the world works?!”

  Technically speaking, this wasn’t too far from the mark, and nobody understood that better than Boxxy. The shapeshifter was largely ignorant on matters such as running an organization, how the government worked, or the unwritten rules of the criminal underground. Though it intended to broaden its knowledge on those topics and more, the most it could do at that moment was feign competence.

  “Look, Reggie, let’s just drop the act. We both know you’re not sincere anyway. Just tell me why you’re doing that stuff in the first place and I’ll steer clear of them.”

  Reginald stopped his groveling and returned to his seat with a calm face.

  “Very well. It’s nothing that complicated, really. It’s mostly a way of helping raise the average Level of my organization’s members.”

  It made sense. Swaying an entire crowd with just words was sure to give a significant amount of Doppelganger XP. Boxxy could personally attest to the method’s effectiveness since its involvement in the near-riot had catapulted its Job the rest of the way to Level 25.

  “It also serves as a distraction, a sort of smokescreen to help mask our presence,” Reggie added.

  “… Really?”

  Boxxy clearly showed its disbelief on Keira’s face. It couldn’t imagine how ostracizing people would improve the shapeshifter syndicate’s security. Thankfully, Reggie wasted no time explaining himself.

  “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the commoners are starting to feel the pressure of the ongoing war. They try to hide it and act like nothing’s wrong, but they’re steadily growing more fearful and distrusting, even full on paranoid. We don’t want those suspicions working against us, so we redirect them at an easier target like homosexuals.”

  “Ah, like that. How long have you been at it, though? I get the feeling it’s not a recent thing.”

  “No, it’s not. We’ve stepped things up a bit recently, but we’ve been doing it on and off for as long as I can remember.”

  “Isn’t systematically alienating potential XP sources bad in the long run?” Boxxy questioned.

  “It really isn’t. Random citizens aren’t of much value to us and non-breeders are practically worthless from the perspective of our species’ survival.”

  “I think you’re underestimating just how vulnerable they can be. Take that woman I’m using at the moment, for example. She’s so desperate for companionship that I had her eating out of my hand in a matter of hours. Now, she clings so tightly that pretty soon she might not even care if I’m outed as a fake.”

  Boxxy wasn’t exaggerating. It was true that no enlightened would ever knowingly engage in an intimate relationship with a violent, unfeeling, man-eating monster. However, people burdened by notions of love and trust were prone to illogical and self-destructive behavior. Rowana was a prime example. Boxxy had shown her an unnaturally violent, merciless facet of Keira in an attempt to create some distance between the two so that it could act freely. However, it somehow achieved the opposite effect, and the elf ended up growing even more attached to its Facade. Apparently, she thought that her love and affection would keep Keira’s dark side from taking over, or some other bullshit along those lines. Though the outcome was unintended and undesirable, it perfectly illustrated how people rationalized irrational behavior because of feelings.

  “Then again, I guess I have you to thank for that,” Boxxy shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been so easy if your smokescreen agenda didn’t make her repressed and desperate.”

  “Hmm, that’s an interesting perspective,” Reginald cupped his chin in thought. “Such individuals are indeed easy to manipulate, now that you mention it. Nobody would question why a same-sex couple can’t produce children of their own, either. Actually, the lack of offspring can be used to our advantage. We can raise and educate our youngest under the pretext of ‘adoption’ without any hassle.”

  “Worry about that later,” Boxxy interrupted. “When do you expect your ‘problem’ to arrive?”

  “Can’t say for certain. Best as we can tell, he was drafted into service for the war. Barring special circumstances, he won’t be back until the fighting dies down in winter.”

  “Why not just find out where he’s stationed and kill him in the field, make it look like the Empire did him in?”

  “My agents are instructed to stay as far away from the military as possible. Too much security, not enough benefits. Plus, I never said I wanted him killed.”

  Keira’s eyes narrowed to a murderous glare.

  “Why not?”

  “I- I mean killing him is an option, but it’s a bad solution,” Reggie hurriedly added. “You see, the man in question has been trying to find proof of our organization’s existence for years now. As far as we know, he has suspicions but no hard evidence. It’s not an official investigation, but he’s still got someone backing him up with funding. Simply murdering him or having him disappear would be too suspicious, yet we also cannot allow him to do as he pleases. I was hoping your… unorthodox methods might provide us with a good solution.”

  Reginald had gotten news from the western front last night through a mix of official and unofficial sources from both within and outside the Republic. Though he didn’t have the specifics, he knew that both the Sandman and Keira Morgana had played pivotal roles in the Empire’s total defeat at Fort Yimin. It wasn’t the sort of thing that Boxxy could accomplish with brute force alone. Actually, no, it could. In Reginald’s flawed opinion, that Butcher of Humanity was likely capable of single-handedly wiping out the entire human army. However, such an uninspired and conspicuous method would have surely outed Boxxy’s monstrous nature. The young shapeshifter had clearly employed a cunning and unprecedented strategy that resulted in its alter-egos gaining tremendous achievements without putting its identity at risk.

  In short, if the abnormal creature in front of Reginald could bamboozle two nations at once, then it was surely capable of discretely silencing an annoying rat.

  “I see. That’s unfortunate,” Boxxy relaxed its gaze. “I was really looking forward to ripping someone in half. A lot of someones, actually.”

  “… Quite.”

  “Well, then, I suppose I’ll check the guild again in two days. Bye, Reggie.”

  “Until we meet again.”

  Keira stood from the armchair and nonchalantly left through the same window she entered. Boxxy might have agreed to Reggie’s proposal regarding its entry and exit ro
ute, but it couldn’t leave through the front door since nobody had seen it enter the building. The shapeshifter stealthily made its way back to Rowana’s place before spending the rest of the day doing a whole lot of nothing. Incidentally, Boxxy decided to keep the pink gem’s existence a secret from the elf for the moment. This was more than ‘just a pretty rock,’ as Faehorn’s ignorant niece had claimed. The former mimic had an intuition when it came to shiny things, and it had a hunch as to what was so special about that pink gem. It needed to confirm its suspicions, which was why it returned to its dungeon lair as soon as Rowana was asleep.

  “Greetings, milord,” Ambrosia greeted it like usual. “Does thou wish to sample of mine bosom?”

  “Sure, might as well.”

  Boxxy hadn’t planned on it, but it couldn’t say ‘no’ to a few dozen mouthfuls of delicious dryad nectar. The tree-woman herself was more than happy to oblige. She clapped her hands, prompting an armchair made out of vines to grow out of the bark-covered floor. She sat in it, patting her lap. Boxxy took the invitation and sat in it, though it had to reduce its size to that of its base child-like shape. The shapeshifter then eagerly latched onto the nipple it was presented with and started sucking with all its might.

  “Oh! I see milord is quite enthusiastic tonight,” Ambrosia smiled while gently stroking its bald head. “Please, indulge thyself for as long as thou wishes.”

  Boxxy did just that for a solid half hour before it felt it was about to burst. It let go of the dryad’s teat with a satisfied sigh. Gulping down so much of that tasty and filling stuff left it feeling relaxed and content, but also slightly unsatisfied. As delicious as the nectar was, it was woefully lacking in something. After all, it took more than flavor to make a meal truly tasty. Texture was important, and the sticky, thick fluid of Ambrosia’s bosom was sorely lacking in that regard. Boxxy longed for the visceral feeling of ripping a human limb from limb, the satisfying crunch of their skull, and the hot sensation of fresh blood gushing down its gullet as its teeth pierced their still-beating heart. Ripping a person’s life away before immediately devouring their flesh brought it a sense of primal fulfillment that Ambrosia’s sickeningly sweet nectar could never evoke.

  While pondering this predicament, Boxxy had an epiphany – who said that the two were mutually exclusive?

  “Claws, where are you right now?” it called out telepathically.

  “Uhm… in the dungeon, about twenty meters above you, Master.”

  As per usual, the stalker was stalking the target of her ‘affections.’ It was what she usually did whenever she didn’t have other standing orders.

  “I need you to go find me a meal,” it proclaimed. “Not a beggar or vagrant, though. I want someone of superior suppleness. A real prime specimen.”

  “Oh, oh! You mean the type that’s really fun to chew, right?”

  “Yes, exactly!”

  “I know just the guy! I spotted this construction site that had a bunch of human laborers, and one of them was really tall and well-built. He was swinging tree trunks around like they were twigs.”

  In other words, he was likely to have a strong, healthy, and positively delicious heart.

  “He’s perfect! Do you know where he is?”

  “Yeah, I followed him back to his house yesterday. He has a wife and kid, but they looked scrawny and chewy. Not in the fun way, either. Honestly, he’s too good for that skinny tramp.”

  The fact that Claws had gone out of her way to investigate his household implied she had developed powerful feelings for this random laborer. This was promising because the only ‘powerful feelings’ stalkers usually harbored towards mortals were along the lines of ‘I’d love to eat his face and drink his blood.’ Either that or the standard bout of murderous intentions common to all demons, but this case seemed like the former. And if Claws thought that guy was an absolute snack, then there was a good chance Boxxy would, too.

  “Okay, then go catch him and bring him to Ambrosia at once. Alive, mind you.”

  “At once, Master!”

  “So, Ambrosia,” it spoke aloud. “Claws will be bringing you a fresh ingredient. Make sure you prepare breakfast for me.”

  “… Is mine nectar no longer to thy liking?” she asked, more concerned than angry.

  “Not at all. I just want some variety so I don’t grow tired of it.”

  “Milord speaks wisely. In such case I shall prepare thy breakfast with utmost care.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Boxxy intended to Rank Up later that night, and a gourmet serving of man-flesh with a side order of nectar sounded like the best thing to wake up to afterwards. The monster then considered that it hadn’t had the chance to sample Ambrosia’s cooking yet, which was somewhat worrisome. Dryads didn’t eat meat, so it was doubtful whether she was able to satisfy the former mimic’s carnivorous preferences. That was fine though. Boxxy could just eat what was left of the human raw in the event that Ambrosia’s cooking was absolutely atrocious with no hope of redemption. With that in mind, it made sure to temper its expectations without worrying too much.

  Breakfast matters settled, the monster moved onto the next item on the evening’s agenda. It reached into its Storage and retrieved the mysterious pink gem it had inherited from Faehorn. As before, it was a total blind spot in its mana-based perception. It wasn’t as if no magic came from it, but that there was no magic in that spot at all. That couldn’t be the case considering the dungeon – and indeed the entirety of Ambrosia’s trunk cavity – was overflowing with ambient magic. A ‘hole’ in this mystically charged space was as normal as a patch of beach that remained dry no matter how many waves washed over it.

  Boxxy worked out an explanation for this phenomenon while training its Doppelganger Job with Rowana. Its Mana Locator Gland functioned by releasing weak pulses of mana into its surroundings. These waves would then provide near-instantaneous feedback whenever they bounced off or passed through anything, including normally intangible things. This allowed the organ to detect both physical objects and magical disturbances within its effective range of slightly over ten meters. However, if something disrupted or erased that pulse, then the MLG would interpret the absence of feedback as ‘nothing.’ Boxxy speculated that the Spymaster that once held it prisoner used such means to evade its magical perception. It wasn’t unreasonable given his occupation that he would have an item or Skill that interfered with magical detection. Such things were likely quite rare considering Boxxy hadn’t encountered the phenomenon since.

  At least it hadn’t until it first laid eyes upon the pink gem in its grasp. Its working theory was that the shiny thing was neither magical nor non-magical, but anti-magical. Its suspicions were strengthened when it waved the thing around and noted the gaps it created in the ambient mana. Magically charged air rushed to fill in the empty space almost immediately, making it difficult to spot the gaps. Using those movements as a hint, Boxxy focused its MLG on the area surrounding the gem. It noticed a nearly imperceptible but nevertheless constant flow of magic being drawn towards the object. The monster amended its hypothesis – the gemstone wasn’t erasing or nullifying the ambient mana, but absorbing it.

  That was the extent of what Boxxy could learn through magical observation, so it moved onto physical inspection. In terms of tactile feedback, the pink gem was as smooth as it looked, albeit somewhat cold to the touch. Gripping it tightly or putting it in its mouth had no discernable effect on the creature’s body, nor did it prompt any bizarre notifications. It gave up this line of inquiry. It figured that if the item’s secrets could be discovered by such primitive methods, then the people what’s-her-face brought it to would have figured them out already.

  Boxxy then had an unpleasant thought. What if Faehorn’s niece knew exactly what it did, but kept quiet about it? Perhaps it was cursed or had some adverse effect on whoever carried it, so she dumped it on some random girl under the pretext of satisfying her late uncle’s will. The shapeshifter felt like a c
omplete fool for not considering these things before blindly accepting the shiny. Then again, it was a pretty exceptional shiny, so it forgave itself. After all, it would have done the same if it were in its own place.

  “Ugh, this is getting me nowhere.”

  The monster forced itself to stop thinking of pointless things and directed its attention back towards figuring out what the pink gem’s deal was. It tried invoking the dungeon core’s Item Appraisal function, but the results were… inconclusive. Since the object absorbed any magic aimed at it, the Appraisal proved just as useless as its MLG. This knowledge somewhat supported the niece’s claims. Anyone who tried to study the gem through conventional means would fail, and, not knowing why, would conclude that it was ‘remarkably un-magical.’ Therefore, if Boxxy hoped to crack this mystery, it would have to do what it did best. It would come up with something that no sane person would even consider doing, then do that.

  Boxxy retrieved Keira’s lighter-type wand. It was a common tool it had bought at some point, and also the same one it used to burn that dumb message from ‘Hugh Mungus.’ It fed a tiny bit of MP into it, and a tiny, stable plume of fire appeared from its pointy end. It then subjected the pink gem to the flame, which was the magical equivalent of poking it with a stick. It considered using a Spell instead, but was worried what would happen to the fragile-looking thing if it couldn’t absorb the destructive energies quickly enough.

  The gem sucked in the flame the instant they made contact, causing the lighter to fail. Intrigued, Boxxy repeated the experiment with the same result. It then pumped enough MP into the wand to the point the item was about to burst from magical overload. It was enough energy to keep it lit for four whole days, yet its entire charge was depleted the instant the flame touched the pink gem for the third time. Lastly, it tried to subject the gem to the light of a basic, mundane torch. It failed to react. Boxxy wasn’t sure where it was going with this sequence of experiments, but it was definitely getting somewhere.