The image of Ardyn Vermont, the severe silver bun, the cutting intelligence in her golden eyes, the way her suit hinted at the warrior beneath, lingered in Noctar's mind like a stubborn, high-priority process. He was so preoccupied he almost walked past the main exit.
// Boss. Ethron to Noctar. You're drooling. Metaphorically. Also, we're broke. S.A.R.A.'s voice was a welcome splash of cold logic.
// I've analyzed the local economic data. Your current financial status is 'indigent hobo.' We need capital. I have a proposal.
Five minutes later, Noctar found himself standing once again in the doorway of Ardyn's office. She looked up, one perfect silver eyebrow arched.
"Forget the way out?" she asked, her tone dry.
"I require a loan," Noctar stated, his voice flat. "A single silver coin."
Ardyn leaned back in her chair, the gesture slow and deliberate. A single silver was a pittance, the cost of a cheap meal. But coming from an S-Rank who minutes ago was asking for a penthouse, it was bizarre.
"A loan," she repeated. "For what?"
"I'm hungry."
The lie was so transparent it was almost insulting. Ardyn's eyes narrowed. This man was a puzzle, and she despised unsolved puzzles. She stood, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair. "Fine. I'll join you for lunch. My treat."
Noctar's composure cracked for a fraction of a second. She was calling his bluff. He could see the suspicion hardening in her gaze. The path of least resistance, in this case, was the truth.
"The coin isn't for food," he admitted, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. Honesty was such an inefficient strategy. "It's for the casino down the street."
That gave her pause. A gambling addict? It didn't fit. The man radiated the controlled, calculating energy of a master strategist, not the desperate hope of a dice-chaser. Her impression of him as a displaced king solidified, only now the king was apparently penniless.
Intrigued despite herself, she fished a single, gleaming silver coin from her purse. She held it up between two fingers. "Explain your plan. Now." The command in her voice was absolute, the tone of a woman used to being obeyed.
A violent, unexpected shiver of pure delight ran down Noctar's spine. The authority in her voice didn't intimidate him; it ignited something primal. A fierce, sudden fantasy flashed in his mind: of pinning her against that ruthlessly organized desk, of dominating that iron will until it melted into whimpers and pleas, of being the one to make those golden eyes lose their focus…
// WHOA! Okay! Kernel-level override! Muting inappropriate user fantasies! S.A.R.A. yelled, jolting him back to reality. // For the love of all source, focus!
Noctar cleared his throat, the ghost of the fantasy leaving him slightly flushed and uncomfortable. "I require capital to acquire private lodging. I am… unsuited for cohabitation. My personal space is my own." He met her gaze, and in a moment of either sheer brilliance or catastrophic impulsivity, added, "You would, of course, be an exception. You're the first person here who hasn't looked at me like I'm a monster."
The line was delivered with such casual, honest intensity that it bypassed Ardyn's professional defenses and struck something deeper. She didn't believe him, of course. It was a transparent manipulation. And yet, a traitorous part of her heart fluttered at the implication. She had, after all, just dropped her work to follow a handsome, mysterious man to a casino.
"Don't flatter yourself, Ville," she said, her voice cooler than she intended. "Let's go. I want to see this master plan in action."
Ardyn and Noctar took the elevator and exited through the main lobby. Whispers filled the air that the cold Rose knight had left with the mysterious S rank. Many wondered why the woman who never broke her routine suddenly went out with the man in ill-fitting gym clothes.
The walk down the street was full of analytical thinking. Ardyn wondered how Noctar new about the casino when it was deeply hidden in a basement down a narrow alleyway. She also questioned how Noctar walked like he knew the way, like he had a man in his head.
//Boss. She's noticed you know the way too well. What are you going to say if she asks?
'I'll play it off as a skill'
When they arrived at the back alley, the bodyguard saw it's the Rose Knight and simply opened the door. Inside, the casino was a temple of controlled chaos, a stark contrast to the Hunter Authority's sterile efficiency. The air was thick with smoke, hope, and despair. Noctar's eyes, and S.A.R.A.'s sensors, scanned the room.
// Analysis complete. Slot machine #B-47 on the west wall has a faulty RNG chip. It's due for a jackpot. Probability of success: 99.8%.
Noctar looked at Ardyn and stretched his hand, palm open. Ardyn looked at the palm then at the blank face and she dropped the silver coin in it. Noctar walked straight to that specific machine that was located on the 3rd row, he was a man on a mission. Ardyn watched, arms crossed, from a few feet away.
He inserted the single silver coin. He didn't pull a lever. Instead, his fingers danced over the buttons with unnatural speed and precision, a sequence that was not random, but a command. The machine whirred, lights flashed in a pattern they weren't designed for, and then, with a deafening, celebratory fanfare, it vomited a cascade of gold coins into the tray.
Twenty gleaming gold coins. A fortune from a single silver.
Ardyn didn't gasp or cheer. She just stared, her golden eyes hardening into chips of topaz. Luck wasn't a lightning strike; it was a gentle statistical curve. This was not luck.
This was a hack.
And the hacker was standing there, looking at the small fortune with the mild satisfaction of a man who had just fixed a buggy vending machine.