"Then, give me that whip."
Sylvester hadn't forgotten about that thing—the [Queen's Little Whip], the one that could cause him social death.
"Oh? I thought you'd make a more interesting request." Jade's smile grew even more alluring, but Sylvester remained unmoved.
Not only was such a request impossible to fulfill, but even if Jade agreed, he couldn't begin to imagine what kind of relationship that would turn into.
The Interastral Peace Corporation sending a beautiful high-ranking executive to personally serve the mysterious Curio merchant of renown, just to gain his favor?
The hell? That's insane. Just thinking about it makes my brain tremble.
The three great illusions of life would feel more real than this.
And why did this scenario weirdly feel like a spy sacrificing herself to the evil boss for a noble mission?
By that logic, the noble mission's target was… trash cans?!
Hey, Exalting Sanctum Lord, I've got a fantastic movie pitch here. I think you're the only one fit to direct it!
With firm resolve, Sylvester kept his face taut and his expression serious. "Miss Jade jests. I only wish to reclaim something I nearly lost by mistake, an old keepsake of mine. I ask that you not refuse me, so that I may look upon it and remember the past."
"Since Shopkeeper Sylvester values his bond with his master so deeply, how could I possibly refuse?"
Jade agreed.
Truth be told, was she afraid Sylvester might make some indecent request?
Of course! Though she had been subtly guiding the conversation that way, it was only so that she could hold the initiative.
By leading him, even if Sylvester did harbor thoughts of her, he would likely test the waters first instead of demanding outright. That way, she could employ a host of reasons to sway him—his ties with Fu Xuan and Feixiao, or how the Company might leverage any relationship between them.
But if Sylvester himself were the one to directly demand it, that would be completely different. That would mean he was acting on pure lust, without question, leaving her with no choice but to yield. Between them, she had no right to refuse.
Yet in the end, she hadn't seized the initiative.
And more shocking—despite her deliberate guidance, Sylvester showed not the slightest interest in her.
That left her feeling uneasy, somewhat relieved… and just a touch self-conscious.
Sylvester's request was hardly demanding. The blue Curio he sought had little value on its own, except that it was tied closely to him—an item through which he remembered his master.
By all accounts, this was the perfect deal. She gave up something with little use, and received exactly what she wanted in return.
But… compared to his memories of his master, her own charm wasn't even enough to make him hesitate?!
Tch…
A subtle imbalance stirred in Jade's heart.
"Thank you, Miss Jade, for allowing me to honor the bond of master and disciple."
Sylvester's radiant smile betrayed his relief. At last, the weight on his chest was gone.
Of course, that bond was just an excuse—the real victory was escaping social death.
"There's no need to thank me. It's only so that Shopkeeper Sylvester may reminisce upon seeing it." Jade reached out and retrieved the whip.
Sylvester raised his hand to accept it, but what he received first was not the [Queen's Little Whip], but a pair of delicate ornaments—still slightly warm from her skin in places, and cool elsewhere.
Jade had removed her earrings and handed them to him.
"What is this?" Sylvester looked at Jade, troubled.
Directly giving him something from her own body… wasn't that a little intimate?
"Don't misunderstand, Shopkeeper Sylvester." Jade put away her usual smile, speaking earnestly. "That whip was originally yours. If I returned it as-is, then it would mean I spent one million Credits for just a few of your words. That would be far too petty.
"These earrings are made from the finest gems of the Silverchain Galaxy. Their monetary value is irrelevant. What matters is that they were a gift from a protégé I once invested in—one of my rough stones polished into jade. You could say they represent a teacher-disciple bond as well. Giving them to you is only fitting."
Sylvester looked suspiciously at the earrings, then at Jade. "Then I'll just give them to my disciple in the future…"
Jade's face instantly darkened.
Seriously? Is my charm so lacking? You just received a personal gift from me, and already you're thinking about passing it to someone else? Someone who doesn't even exist yet?!
"Ha, only jesting." Sylvester laughed in satisfaction. "I'll treasure them well."
So even someone as strong-willed as Jade can be a little two-faced in moments like this.
Sylvester glanced at the earrings in his hand, amused.
Who would have thought—the first woman to give him a gift in this world would be a customer.
"Hmph." Jade snorted, displeased. But soon her expression clouded with thought.
Am I really like this too? Seems I really am getting old—my ambition is weakening.
She had to focus on verifying the Curio's abilities.
Her eyes fell to the Devil Fruit cradled in her arms and the plain-looking Truth Chair beside it.
Without wasting words, she handed the whip to Sylvester.
Then she stood, giving a polite half-bow. "I wish Shopkeeper Sylvester a prosperous business. My quota is used up, so I'll trouble you no longer."
Sylvester replied with a professional smile. "As you wish."
…
Interastral Peace Corporation's Delegation Residence.
"How odd."
Jade descended from her starskiff, frowning at the sight before the door.
The entrance was spotless, yet the security detail had vanished without a trace.
But the attendants this time were confidants of the Ten Stonehearts. There was no way they would dare abandon their posts.
What was going on? She'd only been gone for a few hours—yet something happened?
No, impossible. Aventurine and Topaz were still here. With the two of them around, even if an incident occurred, it wouldn't be this quiet.
But then again… the Company wouldn't just pull everyone back and leave her behind, right?
I'm the leader of this operation.
Puzzled, Jade pushed open the door.
She walked the corridors, passed through the gardens—still not a soul in sight.
The eerie atmosphere weighed heavier on her chest. She even began to quietly channel the power of her Path.
Could something really have happened?
It wasn't until she neared the rear hall that she finally heard faint noises—crack crack crack.
Just before she entered, there was a sudden smack! followed by a shriek: "No! Please, Lord Aventurine!!"
She lashed her whip, blasting the doors to splinters. Using the dust for cover, she slipped inside like a swift serpent.
A fierce battle was inevitable!
And then—
Jade froze mid-motion, her perfect opening attack wasted.
Aventurine sat at a table with three employees, a spread of green-and-white tiles scattered across the surface before him.
The three looked pale as death, despair etched on their faces.
The rest of the dozen employees sat slumped on couches or crouched in corners, silent and lifeless—not like survivors of an enemy attack, but like refugees after the collapse of their company, their boss absconding with the funds, preparing to jump into the void.
The noise of the door drew their empty gazes toward her.
"Oh, Miss Jade, you're back." Aventurine looked like a new man, beaming with confidence, utterly unlike the gloomy figure he had been when she left.
Whip raised high, Jade suddenly felt completely out of place.
"What are you all doing here? You had me on edge—almost made me go to the Seat of Divine Foresight to ask the Luofu for help. Go and fix the door." She calmly stowed her weapon and strode over to Aventurine.
"What happened here?" she demanded, glancing at the despondent employees. How am I supposed to run operations with morale this low?
Topaz stepped forward with a helpless sigh. "Lord Aventurine wanted to test his luck, so he gambled with 100 Credits. Just now, he managed to win every last Credit from all the employees."
"That's right." Aventurine grinned brightly, snapping his fingers. "All, or nothing at all!"
Assured that his luck had not left him, Aventurine struck a pose.
Then, with a dramatic sweep, he tossed the gambling ledger—stamped with the employees' handprints—to one of them. "Here, take it. Tear it up, burn it, do whatever you like. Your money is still yours!"
"Thank you, Lord Aventurine!" They had thought they were doomed to hell, but in the blink of an eye, their savior—no, Lord Aventurine—had lifted them back to heaven.
The employees were practically ready to kowtow in gratitude.
Topaz just stared blankly at Aventurine. "Wouldn't it be easier if you didn't gamble at all?"
Aventurine shook his head smugly. "Without stakes, without risk, what kind of game would that be? This thrill—you can't possibly imagine."
"I see." Jade finally understood, chuckling lightly.
A false alarm, nothing more.
The employees thought the same, their relief clear as they began to disperse.
But Jade suddenly stopped them. "Wait."
She produced a strange fruit and an ordinary chair. "We're holding a team-building exercise today. Truth or Dare. Winner gets a prize."
The employees looked at their superior's smile, then at the chair—and a chill ran down their spines.
"This is what you gained today?" Aventurine asked curiously, eyeing the items.
"Indeed." Jade nodded. "Aventurine, this fruit is for you. Eat it, and then… we'll conduct an experiment."