The Seawave Guild wasn't one group.
It was a bunch of idiots pretending to be united.
Everyone had factions:
The Spice Wing.
The Iron Route.
The Shipping Circle.
The Coin Counters.
The Warehouse Mammoths.
The "I-Do-Nothing-But-Yell" Committee.
And every single one of them believed they were the backbone of the guild.
Funny how fragile backbones become when you kick them.
So that was my new plan:
Not to sabotage departments.
Not to ruin income.
Not to mess with papers.
But to make every faction believe another faction was trying to destroy them.
Start one rumor.
Watch a fire spread across six floors.
I got to work.
Light the First Match
The first faction I targeted was the Spice Wing — hot-tempered merchants, always screaming, always dramatic. Perfect.
I slipped a tiny note under their leader's door:
"Iron Route is lobbying for higher trade priority.
You will lose access to morning market spots."
Signed: A friend.
Simple.
Straightforward.
Enough to piss them off.
The next morning?
I heard fireworks.
"What does Iron Route think they're doing!?"
"They want to steal OUR customers!"
"They think they're stronger? Let's show them!"
Beautiful.
Then I hit the Iron Route with the opposite rumor:
"Spice Wing plans to undercut your bulk shipments next week."
By noon:
"Those spice idiots are plotting behind our backs!"
"They have no idea who they're messing with!"
"Prepare the manifests — we'll cut THEM first!"
I casually drank tea at my desk while two large factions prepared for war.
"Lovely weather today," I murmured.
Then Stir the Middle Groups
Next, I whispered to the Shipping Circle:
"The Warehouse Mammoths are blaming you for recent losses."
And to the Warehouse Mammoths:
"Shipping Circle wants new storage rights. They say you're obsolete."
Within hours:
Warehouse chiefs were demanding meetings
Shipping representatives were screaming in the hall
Accusations flew like broken arrows
Someone threw a ledger at someone
Someone else threatened to quit
A third person broke down crying
And not a single soul wondered who started it.
Humans really are predictable.
The Butterfly Effect of Bullshit
By evening, the guild looked like a festival of panic.
People rushed everywhere.
Papers flew.
Meetings erupted like volcanoes.
The funniest part?
Nobody had real evidence.
Just rumors.
Rumors whispered by one teenager who couldn't even afford decent shoes.
I leaned back in my little office, hands behind my head.
"This is nice," I said to myself. "Very relaxing."
Risenne burst through the door.
"WHAT DID YOU DO!?"
"Good evening to you too," I said.
"Don't play dumb," she snapped. "Every faction is at each other's throats! Half the guild is screaming! Merchants are threatening to pull out!"
"Interesting," I said, sipping tea.
"INTERESTING!? Montig, the guild is imploding! AGAIN!"
I shrugged. "Sounds like a leadership problem."
She pointed at me.
"It's a YOU problem!"
I smirked.
"Even if it is… you can't prove it."
She growled, actually growled, then stormed out muttering curses.
Guilt?
None.
Regret?
Zero.
Entertainment value?
10/10.
But fun wasn't the point.
This was phase two of consuming the guild.
Chaos breeds opportunity.
Opportunity breeds control.
If the guild couldn't trust itself, someone else had to guide them.
That someone would be me.
A Rope Around Their Necks
The next morning, the guildmaster called an emergency meeting.
ALL officers.
ALL faction heads.
ALL major merchants.
They filled the hall like scared chickens during a thunderstorm.
The guildmaster slammed a gavel.
"ENOUGH!"
Everyone fell silent.
"I don't know who is spreading these lies," he said, voice calm but furious, "but if we keep fighting, we die."
Spice Wing shouted, "Iron Route started it!"
Iron Route shouted back, "Lies!"
Shipping Circle yelled, "Warehouse Mammoths challenged us!"
Mammoths roared, "YOU challenged US!"
It was adorable.
Watching grown adults scream like toddlers fighting over a cookie.
The guildmaster pinched the bridge of his nose.
Then he said the words I'd been waiting for:
"We need someone neutral. Someone trustworthy. Someone outside faction influence."
And then—
His eyes scanned the room…
…and landed on me.
"Montig."
The room froze.
Risenne almost fell out of her chair.
I blinked.
"Yes?" I said innocently.
"I want you," the guildmaster said, "to observe the factions and report directly to me."
Risenne hissed, "Sir, he's a child!"
"He's the only one who hasn't joined a faction," the guildmaster snapped. "And he has sharp eyes."
Oh, he had no idea how sharp.
I bowed politely.
"I'll do my best."
Murmurs erupted.
"Why him?"
"This kid again!"
"He's suspicious!"
"He's good at paperwork, I guess."
"He's dangerous, I heard."
"That tea thief!?"
I ignored all of it.
Because I wasn't being asked to help the guild.
I was being handed the authority to observe every faction.
To walk anywhere.
To see everything.
To poke anyone.
It was a leash around their necks…
…but I was the one holding the other end.
A Major Moment — The System Speaks
As the meeting ended and I walked back to my office—
The system chimed.
A cold, quiet message:
Ping.
[Major Achievement: Guild Manipulation Phase Complete]
Faction Trust Level: Broken.
Your influence rises unnoticed.]
Then a final line:
[Begin Phase Three: Consume Leadership.]
I exhaled slowly.
"Oh," I whispered.
So now we were going for the leaders themselves.
The heads.
The powerful ones.
The ones who thought they were safe.
A slow grin crept across my face.
"Alright then," I murmured.
"Let's eat the top."