"You...you let me go!"
The Pepeshi girl's voice came out in panicked gasps as her little feet kicked uselessly at the air.
Victor held her suspended at eye level, his expression unreadable. "Tell me what you're doing here. If you refuse..."
His gaze drifted meaningfully to the small fluff ball perched atop her head. "I'll cut off that pompom and use it as a soccer ball."
"How, how can you be so vicious?!"
The color drained from the Pepeshi's face, raw terror flooding her features.
"Cut it off! Cut it off!"
Stelle materialized beside them with a pair of scissors she'd procured from somewhere, making enthusiastic snipping motions in the air.
Markh watched the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. Despite everything, she felt a little sorry for these creatures.
"Hurry up and talk!" Victor's voice dropped to a cold growl.
Under the weight of those penetrating eyes, eyes that seemed capable of seeing straight through to her soul, the Pepeshi's resistance crumbled instantly.
The words spilled out of her in a rush. "I'm Five Hundred! We're members of the Four-Feet Hall. We weren't doing anything wrong, just gathering here to share our beliefs. We haven't done anything bad, I swear..."
Four-Feet Hall?
Victor blinked. The name struck a chord of recognition, though it took him a moment to place it.
Wait a minute.
Wasn't that the cult Stelle had encountered during her stint as a hotel manager?
"Let me ask you something," Victor said carefully. "Is your leader called Royroy?"
"Yes, yes! But it's not the Short Master, it's the Master..." The Pepeshi's voice dropped to barely a whisper as she corrected him.
"Doesn't 'short' mean, well, short?" Markh asked from the sidelines, her expression equally confused.
When Victor first mentioned the "Short Master," she'd assumed he was joking. After all, what kind of organization would actually call their leader that?
Apparently, this one did.
"Looks like these aren't the people we're looking for," Victor said, lowering the Pepeshi back to the ground. He turned to Stelle and Markh with a shrug. "They're just a cult."
"Ah?" Markh deflated like a punctured balloon. "So after all that, we were just following a bunch of cultists around?"
"It's okay. At least you tried." Victor reached out and ruffled Markh's hair in a comforting gesture.
"What about these people?" Stelle asked, still brandishing the scissors with unsettling enthusiasm. "Should we cut off those little pompoms?"
The metallic snip-snip sound sent waves of fear through every Pepeshi in the room.
"Cut your ass," Victor said, flicking Stelle lightly on the forehead.
"How can you even suggest cutting something so adorable? Obviously, we should give them a good rub instead!"
Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the fluff ball atop the nearest Pepeshi's head and began gently massaging it.
The moment his fingers made contact, Victor froze. A surge of pure vitality flowed into his body, hundreds of years of lifespan, just like that.
"Holy shit! Those joke settings from the game are actually real!"
"What settings?" Both Stelle and Markh looked at him with matching confused expressions.
Victor explained rapidly. "In the game lore, the pompom on a Pepeshi's head is considered their true body. If you cut it off, they can grow a new body from it."
"And touching the pompom can extend your lifespan. Plus, they apparently use plasma guns for daily grooming."
"The legend goes that the Aeon Xipe once tried to bless the Pepeshi, but after touching their pompom, it was Xipe who received the blessing instead, several hundred years of extra life."
"What the hell? There's actually something that good?" Stelle immediately dropped her scissors, grabbed the nearest Pepeshi, and started enthusiastically rubbing their pompom.
One wasn't enough. She moved on to the next, then the next, systematically working her way through the crowd.
"Don't come near me!"
"No! You can't do this!"
"Don't touch my pompom!"
Markh stood off to the side, palm pressed against her forehead as she watched the chaos unfold in silence.
Would cultivators even benefit from a few hundred extra years? Weren't they already practically immortal?
Several minutes later, Markh forcibly dragged Victor and a flushed, reluctant Stelle out of the store.
If she didn't intervene now, she genuinely worried these cult members might call the police and file assault charges.
"Where are we going next?" Markh asked once they were back on the street.
Victor collected himself. "Let's go find Miss Himeko and Mr. Welt first."
"I know where they are! Follow me!"
Markh grabbed both of them by the wrists and took off running.
After a few minutes of navigating through Penacony's streets, the three finally located Himeko and Welt.
"Mr. Victor, you're here," Himeko said with her characteristic warm smile. "Does this mean you've made a breakthrough?"
Welt nodded his greeting. "Congratulations on your improved strength."
Victor returned the acknowledgment. "You're not doing badly yourselves. Both of you have reached the Golden Core stage."
His gaze shifted meaningfully to Markh. "Unlike certain people who are still lingering at Foundation Establishment."
Markh stuck her tongue out at him.
Himeko laughed softly. "Haha, Markh is actually quite hardworking, she just gets a little lazy sometimes."
Sometimes? Victor thought privately. More like constantly.
"Anyway," he said, steering the conversation back on track, "I came here to help you find the Watchmaker's legacy."
Markh touched the back of her head, genuinely puzzled. "Wait, weren't we supposed to be looking for Miss Robin and whatever that pioneer left behind? Why are we suddenly talking about the Watchmaker's legacy?"
Before Victor could respond, Welt spoke up, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "If I'm not mistaken, the Watchmaker's legacy is probably what the pioneer predecessor left behind. And Miss Robin... she must be in the same location as that legacy."
"As expected of Mr. Welt," Victor said with genuine appreciation. "You pieced it together from just that one sentence."
"No, no," Welt demurred. "I actually had my suspicions before that the Watchmaker's legacy was connected to what we've been searching for. Your words just confirmed my theory."
"So where do we find this Watchmaker's legacy?" Himeko asked.
"First, we need to find a... person." Victor paused mid-sentence, his attention caught by a familiar figure in the distance. "Actually, looks like we don't need to search after all."
The others followed his gaze.
"Gallagher?" Stelle recognized him immediately.
"Yep, that's him."
Victor led the group toward the man in question.
Gallagher noticed them approaching almost immediately.
"Well, well. The unknown guests from the Astral Express. What can I do for you?"
"We're going to Dreamflux Reef," Victor stated plainly. "I'd like you to take us there."
Gallagher's eyes widened fractionally before his expression smoothed back to neutral.
"How do you know about Dreamflux Reef?"
The place was a reflection in Penacony's deep sea, somewhere most people didn't even know existed.
"Don't worry about how we know," Victor said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Just take us there."
Gallagher fell silent, weighing his options.
After a long moment, he nodded with obvious reluctance. "Alright. Seems like I don't have much choice but to take you."
"Follow me."
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