---
The tank lit up like a paparazzi convention.
No, not just a light. It was an event. A spectacle. The kind of explosive, radiant spectacle that makes mortals panic, cultivators pray, and shopkeepers want to go back to bed.
First the goldfish's bowl began to shimmer, trembling as if it had developed performance anxiety. The water rose in glassy, perfect globes that hovered above the rim, refusing to spill. Thin tendrils of steam curled into the air, but the shop's air conditioner only whimpered and died.
I barely had time to duck as the tank itself flexed, warped, and with a neat, pop—not so much an explosion as a resigned sigh—the glass gave way. Shards drifted down around me in slow motion, glinting like diamonds. Water sloshed out but hovered midair, swirling into a vortex above the countertop. The hamster cage rattled violently and a furry missile launched itself free, shrieking with delight as it caught the wave, surfing the length of the till with the kind of raw joy that makes you question everything you know about rodents.
The ordinary goldfish at the heart of the chaos convulsed, twisting in a writhing spiral. Its scales flickered from sunset orange to a roiling storm of blue, silver, and molten gold. The transformation was neither beautiful nor graceful; it was awkward and grand, like watching a bouncy castle inflate in a cathedral. Its tiny mouth yawned open, exhaling a plume of bubbles, then a shock of pure lightning.
"Cease and desist!" shrieked the inspector. She dove under the counter, raising her clipboard like a shield. "This is a violation of—" She flipped a soggy page. "Every regulation we have!"
The cloaked cultivator dropped to both knees, head bowed as if an emperor had walked in wearing nothing but a halo and a scowl. "A Flood Dragon… Even a juvenile!" His voice vibrated with awe and envy. "Shopkeeper, you stand upon a river of destiny—permit me to make an offering!"
Lightning sizzled through the shop. The "HAPPY PAWS" sign above the door fizzled, spat out a last spark of pink, and surrendered to its more ancient self: DAO BEAST PAVILION — ALL CONTRACTS BINDING. The gold characters glowed with a hungry, predatory light.
I clutched the counter for balance, my hair standing on end. My phone leapt into life, vibrating so hard it nearly fell into the hamster bedding.
---
[EVENT COMPLETE: Evolution Triggered] Pet: Goldfish → Juvenile Flood Dragon
Witnesses: Too many
Rewards:
+50 Spirit Energy
+5 Karma Points
+1 Shop Expansion Point
+1 Reputation Tag: "Flood Dragon in a Fishbowl"
[SHOP LEVEL UP!]
Level: 1 → 2
Unlocked Features:
— New Cage Slot (Large, rune-inscribed, highly visible)
— Shelf Expansion (x1)
— Random Mutation Chance: Low
Note: Further evolutions may attract unwanted attention. Karmic insurance premiums increased.
---
I gawked at the notifications. "Random mutation chance?! No! Absolutely not!" My heart did the Macarena. "This is how you get a hamster-chicken hybrid that bites both ways."
The hamster, blissfully unaware, spun a victory lap, trailing droplets everywhere. Its fur seemed slightly more… shimmery. I would have panicked, but there wasn't time.
The inspector pulled herself upright, soaked to the skin, eyes wild. "Unlawful exotic pet display! Unregistered meteorological event! Spontaneous arcane activity in a commercial zone!" She checked off boxes so furiously her pen snapped. She produced a backup. "You are in violation of every ordinance in the Eastern Regional Companion Animal Code. This establishment is to be shut down immediately."
The cultivator pressed a jade token to the Night Counter altar, his aura making the display screens flicker and hum. "Shopkeeper, my sect will grant you mountains, rivers, and an immortal chicken. Just let me raise this dragon!"
"Keep your immortal chicken!" I yelped. "I can't even keep my power bill under control!"
The hamster launched off the counter, performed a double backflip, and landed in the dog treat aisle. The poster-cat's smile grew disturbingly wide.
My phone pulsed again. This time the system delivered a series of rolling pop-ups, each more sarcastic than the last.
---
[SHOP SYSTEM TUTORIAL: LEVEL UP] Congratulations, Shopkeeper! You have reached Level 2.
Key metrics unlocked:
Spirit Energy: Your primary cultivation resource. Earned via successful contracts, karmic events, and occasionally by accident.
Karma Points: Used to unlock Shop Features, negate bad luck, or, in a pinch, bribe system administrators (not recommended).
Expansion Points: Earned for fulfilling fated contracts or completing Side Tasks. Used to expand cages, shelves, and "miscellaneous" shop phenomena.
Reputation Tags: Collected for memorable events (good, bad, or hamster-related). Increase customer foot traffic and narrative flavor.
Random Mutation Chance: Low (But not zero. Please do not feed after midnight.)
Tip: Unused features may attract system fines or "random auditors." Proceed with comedic caution.
---
I scrolled, mouth dry. "Karmic insurance premiums increased? That's not funny. That's terrifying." The phone added a new window:
---
[NEW QUEST: SURVIVE UNTIL CLOSING TIME]
Time Remaining: 2 hours, 17 minutes
Penalty: Shop repossessed by karmic auditors
Reward: Random Pet Egg
Optional Bonus: Do not get fined. Do not get eaten. (Not legally binding.)
---
A little hamster icon did a jig across the corner of the screen. I smacked the phone, just as another surge of energy from the Flood Dragon made the "DAO BEAST PAVILION" sign blink like a nervous tic.
The inspector took a bold step forward, slamming her clipboard onto the mortal side of the Night Counter. Her hair was plastered to her face, mascara streaking in rivulets. "You! You are under municipal arrest! I am seizing all animals, all magical items, and all unlicensed signage! And you—" she pointed a trembling pen at the hamster, who was chewing the cap off her marker, "—are in violation of section 14B: Unauthorized Use of Stationery by a Rodent!"
The cultivator bowed low, his jade token sparking on the altar. "Shopkeeper, please! If you refuse, calamity will follow. The heavens themselves yearn for this Flood Dragon's contract. Name your price! I will offer treasures, rare pills, even the Four Rivers Sect's secret cookbook—"
A fresh system window slid across my vision, smug and unhelpful.
---
[SYSTEM TIP: Customers may attempt to 'adopt' evolved beasts. Refusal increases Reputation for Stubbornness. Refusal may also increase lifespan, legal fees, or potential bounties.]
---
"Refusal may increase legal fees?!" I yelped.
The hamster took that as encouragement. It sprinted across the counter, sending the inspector's forms flying, and began scribbling on a roll of receipt paper.
The inspector shrieked, "That rodent is counterfeiting legal documents!" She snatched for the paper. The hamster dodged, printing "HAMSTER RIGHTS NOW" in block capitals before vanishing behind the register.
"Even the beasts here understand contract law!" gasped the cultivator, swaying.
Lightning cracked overhead. The Flood Dragon circled, body half-formed storm and half-scaled serpent. Its gaze burned holes in reality. The Night Counter itself began to flicker under the pressure.
On the inspector's side, the POS glitched, rapidly alternating between "SALE" and "OFFER SOUL FOR REBATE." She blinked. "Did your register just ask for my soul?"
On the cultivator's side, the altar shimmered, ink and fire coiling into the air. He murmured, "A true Shop of Duality. The Dao is present!"
"Does the Dao pay rent?" I mumbled, looking at my waterlogged shoes.
Then, in the background, a new system pop-up rolled by with a metallic chime:
---
[NEW FEATURE DEMO: Cage Slot Expansion]
Large Cage (Vacant) materialized in storage.
Description: Rune-carved, aura-dampening, "guaranteed" to hold almost any beast for at least 10 minutes.
Note: Glowing. Attracts attention.
---
I looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, a massive cage now sat against the back wall, runes glowing faintly along the iron bars, big enough to contain a full-sized Labrador or a moderately sized existential crisis. A shelf expanded sideways, quietly squashing three bags of dog food and what might have been the remains of my lunch.
The inspector gasped, voice ascending into the panic octave. "Unauthorized construction! No permit for magical cages! Section 12D: Improper Dimensional Expansion!"
The cultivator dropped to his knees again, head bowed so low his nose touched the altar. "A divine altar for the beast—this shop is a nexus of fate!"
The hamster darted toward the new cage, gave it a test gnaw, and was immediately bounced away by a pulse of golden light. It landed in the discount chew toy bin, where it began to type manifestos with the barcode scanner.
I dragged my hands down my face. The dragon let out a roar—half bubble, half thunderclap—sending a rack of collars flying and fusing two extension cords together into an ouroboros of poor wiring decisions.
The inspector waved her backup pen. "Illegal use of divine phenomena! I will see you fined until you have to barter for carrots!" She produced a fresh citation, pen scribbling so fast her handwriting warped into runes.
The cultivator's voice rose with rapture. "The Flood Dragon is destiny incarnate! I must—must—contract with it, or my ancestors will haunt me!"
"Your ancestors can get in line," I said, as a fresh notification blinked.
---
[EMERGENCY NOTICE: Juvenile Flood Dragon attempting to ascend ceiling tile territory.]
Risk: Collapse, fatalities, sect-wide rumors.
Advice: Do something, anything. Even dance.
---
"Do something?! What do you want me to do—offer it a mop?!" I scrambled around the counter, only to trip on a stack of hamster manifestos.
The hamster, sensing opportunity, sprinted up the Night Counter and leapt at the inspector's purse. With a triumphant squeak, it yanked out a pack of sticky notes and plastered one to its own forehead.
The inspector screamed. "IS THAT HAMSTER BRANDISHING A PERMIT?!"
The cultivator gasped. "Truly, this establishment is blessed by the Dao."
The dragon spun in midair, filling the room with the scent of ozone, wet fur, and legal paperwork. Its eyes found me, and I felt the full weight of a mythic creature's attention. The room blurred around the edges. Everything faded except for the heavy, storm-wrapped, impossible dragon and me. For a moment, I could see my own reflection in its eyes—small, scruffy, outnumbered by rodents and bureaucracy, and in no way ready to handle any of this.
The world snapped back. The inspector and cultivator were arguing over who had jurisdiction. The hamster wrote slogans on the walls in purple marker.
The shop phone buzzed in my pocket with new advice.
---
[SHOPKEEPER ADVICE: Deep breaths. Smile. Try not to let anyone get incinerated.]
---
I gave the Flood Dragon my best customer service smile. "Hi there, please don't eat anyone. We're running a two-for-one on chew toys."
The dragon blinked, paused, and with terrifying delicacy, licked a strip of water off the hamster's fur.
The hamster shrieked, streaked into the pet food shelves, and triggered a small landslide of kibble.
The inspector was now issuing citations at a rate of two per minute, alternating between me, the cultivator, and the hamster. Her hair had begun to curl from static. "If anyone breathes on my paperwork again, I will file an injunction against air!"
The cultivator was now composing poetry to the Flood Dragon:
> "O beast of thunder, O scale of fate,
Grant my sect a single look,
Open the gate—"
The phone dinged as a new line of system text scrolled by, this time in all-caps.
---
[ATTENTION: High karmic density detected. Shop attracting "Fated Customers." Probability of narrative hijinks: 99.8%.]
---
I moaned. "If a talking raccoon walks in next, I'm closing forever."
As if on cue, the bell over the door dinged.
A hush fell. Even the dragon paused mid-glow. Even the hamster stopped to listen.
The door creaked open.
A boy entered, maybe eight, skinny as a broomstick, wearing a school jumper two sizes too big and trailing a faint smell of glue sticks and after-school snacks. In his arms, clutched tightly, was a fishbowl containing a single, heroic guppy. Its tiny fins beat the water with tragic dignity.
He froze just inside the door, taking in the flooded floor, the staticky air, the inspector's red-faced scowl, the cultivator's melodramatic bow, and the Flood Dragon coiling like a thunderstorm over the counter.
He swallowed, throat bobbing. "Um… my mum said if my fish died I could trade it in. Do you… have any goldfish?"
The inspector shrieked. The cultivator collapsed, head in hands. The hamster fainted dead away, rolling gently into a pile of receipts.
And the juvenile Flood Dragon, with all the inevitability of a falling government, descended from the stormcloud ceiling, eyes locked on the new arrival's guppy bowl.
My phone buzzed again.
---
[FATED CUSTOMER DETECTED]
Name: Charlie Greaves (Mortal, Age 8)
Wallet: $4.70 in coins, one slightly chewed coupon for free ice cream
Request: "A goldfish."
Fate Thread: Unbreakable
Risk: Variable
Side Task: "Match the fated with the legendary."
Reward: ???
Penalty: Dragon tantrum.
---
I stared at the system text, then at Charlie, then at the Flood Dragon, who was licking its lips. The inspector began a fresh stack of citations, the cultivator knelt in prayer, and the hamster—well, the hamster rolled over and played dead.
I braced myself.
"Welcome," I said, voice cracking. "To Happy Paws. Or Dao Beast Pavilion. Or… whatever this is."
The dragon leaned in, breath making the water in Charlie's bowl ripple. The system pinged, sounding suspiciously like a drumroll.
---