Zero reluctantly stopped dancing and picked up the pouch. He poured the contents into his palm: three heavy, silver coins, each stamped with the profile of a sun and the number '10'. Ten Sol. Thirty Sol in total. He walked over to the old-fashioned cash register, the one that doubled as the Gacha machine, and with a sense of ceremony, he dropped the coins into the slot.
They vanished instantly. Not with a clatter, but with a soft shimmer of light. The drawer didn't open. The coins were just... gone.
"Ahh! My first earnings!" Zero screamed, clutching his head in mock despair.
Just then, the small screen on the register lit up with a soft ding.
[+30 Gacha Points Added]
[Current Balance: 30]
Zero froze. He stared at the screen, his panic melting away into dawning comprehension. The Gacha. The points. He'd been so caught up in the reality of his new life—the food, the neighbors, the simple joy of a curse-free morning—that he'd completely forgotten about the system humming just beneath the surface.
"Oh," he breathed, a slow smile returning to his face. "So that's how you get the points." One Sol for one point. It was a direct conversion. His new life and his strange, divine power were linked by the simple act of commerce.
This new fact landed in their shared consciousness with the weight of a divine revelation. The path forward, which had been a hazy, undefined stretch of "living a new life," suddenly snapped into sharp focus. A progress bar had appeared in their world. A clear, quantifiable goal.
"Let's gooo!" Soma pumped a fist in the air, his eyes blazing with the familiar fire of a gamer who just discovered the fastest way to grind. "Gacha here we come! I want to see what other crazy characters we can pull!"
Zero mirrored Soma's excitement, throwing his hands up with a whoop. "Wooooo! Ultimate power, here we—wait." He froze mid-cheer, his brain catching up to the logistics. "We don't have a price list. And I have no idea what thirty Sol is actually worth. Is that a lot? A little? Is it enough for a candy bar or a down payment on a small castle?"
Soma's celebratory pose deflated. "Oh. Yeah." He scratched his cheek, the giddiness draining from his face. "Right. I guess we both got a little caught up in the excitement."
He began to pace, tapping a finger against his chin. Then, an idea lit up his face. "Okay, new plan! How about we go around town? You know, do a little recon. This is basically magitech New York City! Aren't you curious what their Times Square looks like? Do they have giant rune-screens advertising enchanted potions?"
"Naahh," Zero said with a dismissive shrug, a phantom memory of sun and salt water surfacing from his past life. "As an LA resident, I'll always take the beach over a crowded city square. We can't exactly go surfing in this 'new' New York."
"Fine, fine, beach bum," Soma shot back. "Then let's at least grab a book on local commerce or a city map. On the way, we can take a detour to a few other cafés. See their pricing, check out their menus. Market research!"
"Good idea," Zero agreed, nodding. "But I think it will be better if you're the one doing it."
Soma was about to protest when Zero held up a hand, his expression turning serious. "It's not that I don't want to go with you," he said calmly, his voice losing its playful edge. "But we need someone to hold down the fort here. And more importantly... if I go outside, we still don't know what kind of trouble I'll run into. I could potentially get kicked out of other cafés before I even get a look at the menu. It's not smart for an Archdemon to go asking for the price of a latte in a city that's afraid of them."
Soma sighed, the logic undeniable. The injustice of it hung in the air, but he was pragmatic enough to see the truth in Zero's words. "Okay," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly. "You're right." He immediately perked back up, pointing a stern finger at his original self. "Just make sure if anyone else comes in, you plate the congee right. A sprinkle of scallions in the center and exactly three quail eggs. Three. Got it?"
Zero chuckled, gently pushing Soma toward the front door. "Okay, okay, I got it, Chef. Don't worry, I won't ruin your culinary masterpiece."
With a final, confident nod, Soma turned and walked out into the world to do their intelligence gathering. The bell above the door chimed, its ding signaling the start of their first real operation. Zero was left alone once more, the quiet café his to command.
…
Soma pulled on a simple, dark work jacket he found in the closet, something durable and anonymous. He stepped out of the warm, comforting aroma of LeBlanc and into the alley. The moment he reached the main thoroughfare, the city hit him like a physical force.
The quiet sanctuary of their little side street gave way to a cacophony of life. The architecture was a dizzying mix of old-world stone and intricate ironwork, with buildings that clawed at the sky like Victorian titans. But instead of simple glass, many windows were enchanted, shimmering with passive spells, and glowing runes flickered like neon signs on the sides of shops, advertising everything from "Glimmer-weave Tailors" to "Griselda's Guaranteed Potions." The vibe was uncanny; it was the gritty, energetic, steam-billowing 1980s New York he'd only ever seen in old movies, a world of ambition and concrete canyons, but reimagined through a lens of magic.
Transportation was a chaotic symphony of the old and the new. Ornate carriages, drawn by creatures both familiar and bizarre—sturdy horses, broad-shouldered bulls, and even a placid, six-legged reptilian beast that blinked slowly as it pulled a cart of vegetables—clattered over the cobblestones. Weaving between them were automobiles that looked like they'd rolled out of the 1920s, with brass headlamps and running boards. But no smoke plumed from their rears. Instead, a network of glowing copper pipes ran along their chassis, humming with a soft, magical thrum—a perfect, impossible blend of antique tech and arcane power.
Soma felt a wave of sensory overload wash over him. Café LeBlanc was tucked away in a quiet corner of this sprawling, roaring beast of a city. Out here, the sheer scale of it was overwhelming. He took a deep breath, calming the frantic buzz in his mind. Focus. Information. His goal was simple: find out where and what kind of world they were now living in. He spotted a man in a simple tunic hurrying past and stepped into his path.
"Hey, excuse me," Soma called out. "Do you know where the library is?"
The man, a harried-looking human with a leather satchel, paused. "A library? To buy a book, or to read on-site?"
Soma blinked. "Is there a difference?"
"Of course," the man said, adjusting his bag. "If you want to buy, I can point you to a dozen good bookstores. But if you want to read, and you want the biggest selection, you'll need a branch of the Royal Library."
"The Royal Library would be suited for me, I think," Soma replied.
The man gave him a quick, efficient set of directions, pointing down the wide avenue. "Just head that way, past the Golem Workers' Union hall, and you'll see the marble steps. Can't miss it."
"Thanks," Soma said gratefully.
As he walked, Soma's thoughts drifted. 'The Royal Library sounds promising. If I just wanted a bookstore... my neighbor is a bookstore.' He pictured the slammed door, the barked insult. 'Though I doubt he would have opened up.' A grim certainty settled in his mind. 'Who am I kidding? He slammed the door because he saw Zero's horns. It's definitely because he's a demon.'
That thought became a filter through which he now saw the city. On the way to the library, the world's casual cruelty came into sharp focus. He saw an elven woman in fine clothes wrinkle her nose and pull her velvet skirts aside as a demon street-sweeper passed, the demon keeping his eyes fixed on the ground as if apologizing for his own existence. He passed a bakery with a freshly painted sign hanging by the main entrance: "Good Folk Welcome," and a smaller, cruder sign pointing to the back alley that simply read, "Deliveries and Taintedkind."
Further on, he watched a human mother physically pull her young son behind her as a demon family—a father holding his young daughter's hand—walked by, their own quiet conversation ceasing as they endured the silent, public judgment. They were seen as something less than the ground they all walked on, a stain on the beautiful, magical city. And Soma, a human-looking clone born from demon blood, felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. This wasn't just a new life; it was a battlefield, and their cozy little café was the only safe place in it.
The directions led Soma to a wide, open plaza, and there, dominating the skyline, was a building so grand it made him stop in his tracks. It was a masterpiece of white marble and polished granite, with towering columns and a facade accented with intricate gold leaf that gleamed in the afternoon sun. High above, near the impossibly tall windows of the upper floors, two demons were diligently wiping the glass, standing on floating stone platforms that hovered silently in the air. They worked with a practiced, steady rhythm, oblivious to the grandeur beneath them.
All Soma could say, his voice a breathy whisper, was, "Wooww..." He was utterly in awe, a small figure craning his neck to take in the sheer scale and opulence of it all.
"You're new here, huh?"
The voice was smooth and calm, appearing so suddenly beside him that Soma flinched. He turned to see a tall, slender elf in an impeccably tailored dark suit, his silver hair neatly combed back. The elf wasn't looking at him with suspicion, but with a gentle, knowing amusement in his eyes.
"Ah," Soma said, startled. "Yeah, I'm new. To the city."
The suited man smiled, a polite and welcoming expression. "Well then, welcome to the Royal Library, Evercrest branch. It can be a bit imposing from the outside. Come, I'll show you around."
He gestured toward the massive bronze doors. Soma hesitated. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
The elf gave a soft chuckle, a flicker of embarrassment in his professional demeanor. "Ah, forgive me. A terrible habit of mine. I'm Belkas," he said, giving a slight bow of his head. "I'm the director of this branch."
Soma's eyes widened. A director. "Oh! Director, I'm so sorry for my rude way of speaking."
"No worries at all," Belkas said, his warmth seeming entirely genuine. "I was about to head in myself when I saw the look on your face. I must admit, I love guiding newcomers. It reminds me of the magic of seeing it for the first time. Come, I'll help you in any way I can."
Soma, still a bit stunned, could only nod and follow as the director led him toward the entrance. As they walked through the towering doors and into the vast, hushed interior of the library, a new thought, cold and sharp, cut through Soma's awe.
'This is a complete 180-degree difference from what Zero experienced,' he thought, his eyes scanning the cathedral-like space. He was being personally welcomed by the director of one of the city's most important institutions. But the welcome wasn't for him. It was for the human face he wore. 'If I were Zero right now, with his horns and his Taintedkind status, would this powerful man even look at me? Or would he just see another demon to be ignored?' The answer felt heavy and obvious. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him, that Director Belkas would have never approached him at all.
**A/N**
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**A/N**