Administrative District, History and Culture Museum
March 7th and Stelle found Topaz admiring an exhibited painting.
"A painting from six centuries ago... Provisional valuation: 270,000... Thirty-four like this make 9.18 million..."
"She's already appraising these ancient artworks—not surprising for the [Strategic Investment Division]."
Hearing March 7th's snark, Topaz blinked in surprise. "...Whoa, you two again! What kinda divine fate is this—bumping into each other three times in one day!"
"Fate~ Full of wonders~"
For some reason, the line popped unbidden into Stelle's head.
"You seen this one? I'm no art expert, but I can kinda glean stuff from the artist's brushwork."
No choice—pivot the topic first.
Spotting Stelle and March 7th here again, Topaz half-wondered if she'd been bugged... Her private contacts didn't auto-reply either.
Finding her this quick? Trailblaze Nameless lived up to the hype—total waste not recruiting her for the Guard's Investigations Unit.
"How to put it? The whole canvas conveys... sorrow. Not the fleeting blues from everyday setbacks... Far deeper, more enduring."
"That melancholy feels like history condensed—the painter captured Belobog's suffering across generations... No, dozens of generations—in every stroke."
"Never pegged you for an art buff, Miss Topaz—color me impressed!"
Stelle cupped her hands in salute, kicking off the business back-scratching.
"Nah nah, just rambling a bit—can't hold a candle to the pros. The Astral Express has hit so many spots; you Nameless have seen it all. Bet you're way sharper on this stuff."
"More plainly: What catches my eye ain't the technique." Topaz explained:
"Say I value this at 200,000—at least 50-60k of that's for its [added value]."
To the Interastral Peace Corporation, "value" trumped all—they wouldn't delve into each piece's historical weight.
Sensing the chat veering off, March 7th piped up: "Uh... Not crashing your cultured convo or anything, but we actually came for something else..."
"Oh? Fire away. You two finally wanna talk potential business collabs?"
"Not exactly—we're here because..."
Topaz whirled, pointing ahead: "...Ah, how about we stroll and chat? This way!"
"Most stuff in this museum's kinda dull. But with a keen eye, you can unearth gems from the muck~"
"Miss Topaz, we've heard from Bronya—about Belobog's debt issue..."
"...Ah, she spilled to you two? You all must be super tight. What's up? Diving into financial tech talk?"
Three questions in a row—March 7th's brain flatlined.
"We... Ugh, Stelle, help! I'm no good at this..."
"Spit it out." Stelle prompted, then cleared her throat with a sip of milk tea: "We wanna put in a good word for Bronya. The Corporation's demands are unreasonable!"
"Hahaha~ You cut right to it—I like that!" Topaz laughed. These Nameless had humor for days—soft-then-hard approach, classic.
"I get it. From your angle, this whole thing's unfair, right?"
"Different stands mean different views—totally normal. For me, collections are the job... I've handled tougher cases than Belobog's."
Stelle's brows knit. She knew just the counter for that line.
"Most folks or groups defaulting got their sob stories, sure. But if I treat every project as a [special case]... The whole star system's economy'd crater."
"Such a cold-blooded mindset..."
"Heh~ I've heard that plenty. Debtors can't pay cash? [Strategic Investment Division]'s seen it all—we've got options beyond one."
"But Jarilo-VI's overdue by way too much—milder fixes probably won't fly anymore."
"So, what I pitched to Bronya... Whoops, almost leaked trade secrets—close call~"
Topaz trailed off tactfully, only to see March 7th rummaging around.
"March, don't flake at crunch time!"
"Hold on~ It can't be lost... Ah, found it!"
Next instant, Topaz watched March 7th pull out a box of...
Soap?
"As Miss Topaz said, different stands shift perspectives. So... What about [Eternity]?" Stelle chucked the [∞]-shaped soap bar to the floor, lips quirking up.
...
Goethe Hotel, a dimensional piggy bank sprawled before Adrian, blissfully slurping milk tea.
"Mm..."
Adrian eyed the rolling Numby, lost in thought. What kinda vibe did HE give off to lure dimensional savers?
Blink blink!
Freesna sat beside Adrian, elegantly nursing a Goethe classic pour-over coffee. "I stand at the snow country's boundary in the dawn's faint light, clutching this pitch-black chalice brimming with chaotic primal slurry."
As a proper priestess, one must master pro dubbing skills.
"Behold! The ominous vortex swirling in the cup—a curse seed from the abyss's depths, tempered a thousand degrees in the forge, birthing this light-devouring antimatter... Pfft, dark matter!"
Freesna caught herself mid-slip. Mention [antimatter], and folks jumped to the [Antimatter Legion]—no coffee deserved that guilt by association.
With that, she gulped it down fierce, pupils shrinking as visible dark-golden energy ripples burst around her!
As a proper priestess, one must master pro light pollution effects.
"Ahem... Afternoon tea's no place for dramatics—scare the others."
Adrian cautioned. HE hadn't expected Freesna in Belobog—figured she'd beaten HIM to Penacony.
Draining the last dregs of abyss (coffee), Freesna's eyes flashed brilliant! Her toe tapped light, form blurring like a mist-tearing specter, lunging at Numby.
No casual crouch—this was a predator coiled to strike: Single knee grounded, one hand phantom-pressing the floor in perfect vigil stance.
Now, her gaze wasn't mere watching! That quenched-blade-sharp stare pierced Numby's very soul!
"Ah~ Such a fine spirit pet—join our [Eternity Church]! No fees whatsoever!"
Hearing her opener, Adrian nearly spat his milk tea. The Church so short-staffed it was recruiting dimensional piggy banks?!