Those Who Are Left 9 (1/2)

Boxxy walked out of the Central Consortium building in an exceedingly bad mood. That absolutely ridiculous personal ‘request’ had caught it completely off guard, causing its accumulated grievances to almost literally explode. The fact that the casualties of this outburst were limited to a piece of paper and a bit of carpet was a small miracle in and of itself. Well, that and the next 30 or so minutes of the Mimic’s life. As a result of her rash actions, Keira had to sit through a pointless lecture regarding the destruction of guild property. At least she avoided having to pay a disciplinary fine and got off with just a warning by blaming her reaction on various circumstances.

Who knew playing the ‘I was raped’ card could be so effective?

As for the piece of paper that caused the whole ‘hand slip incident,’ there was no way it came from Reggie. To begin with, the whole point of making a personal request through the guild was so Keira could have a plausible excuse to be away for a while. However, there was no way that piece of hate mail would be considered something like that.

And ultimately, hate mail was all that it could be. It wasn’t all that strange for pretty female adventurers to attract that sort of harassment, which was why that nosy receptionist had opened it up in the first place. She probably wanted to protect the ‘pure and innocent Keira’ from that sort of filth, even if she risked being reprimanded for her actions. If one considered the timing of it, it would become pretty clear the person responsible was some idiotic elf that got taken in by the Doppelgangers’ bullshit demonstration from two days ago. The catgirl stood out way too much during that incident, so it was natural that she would catch the interest of at least somebody in that crowd. An interest that had manifested itself as an anonymously submitted pile of filth.

As for how such a miscreant could find her in such a short time, it was actually a rather easy thing to do. After all, as far as the Mimic knew, the number of young, cat-eared beastkin girls with crimson red hair in Azurvale was exactly one. Not to mention that Keira’s existence had become something of an urban myth in some areas of the city, growing closer to common knowledge around the places she frequented. This much was only natural considering the catgirl’s exotic appearance inevitably drew the attention of others. Standing out just enough to leave a lasting impression was what Keira was designed to do.

In short, tracking down her wherabouts based on her appearance alone would not be difficult in the slightest. One had to merely ask around for anyone fitting her description and they’d learn the catgirl was an adventurer in the Hidden Arrow guild called ‘Keira’ in a matter of hours. Which meant that if the beastkin’s actions during that verbal confrontation from two days ago caught the attention of a rather unsavory individual, then her receiving that ‘request’ with such timing wouldn’t be strange at all.

… Maybe that’s exactly why Reggie sent it?

An interesting thought popped up in Boxxy’s mind as it was mulling things over. The catgirl-shaped Mimic stopped in her tracks as she entertained that possibility. Guild officials and prying eyes would dismiss it immediately as ‘unfortunately common’ harassment. On the other hand, repeated incidents could cause them to take action, so it wasn’t exactly a re-usable messaging system. Ah, but the form did say something about 50 somethings with ‘a bonus of 25 more.’ It was possible that this was a subtle reference to the favor Boxxy had asked regarding its Warlock Job. The ‘3 days straight’ comment was also suspect, as it had indeed been the 3rd day since making contact with Reggie. Was it all a coincidence after all?

“It’s a coincidence,” stated Reggie.

The elderly Doppelganger had immediately put that question to rest when Boxxy visited him later that afternoon.

“I’m not sure exactly what that request’s contents were,” he continued, “but it’s far too early to have you help us out. After all, the ‘problem’ I need you to take care of isn’t even in the city right now.”

“I more or less expected that,” stated the Keira-shaped monster, “but I wanted to be certain.”

“Indeed. And while erring on the side of caution was not a bad call, I would appreciate it if you stopped climbing in and out of the window every time you stopped by. It puts my Facade at risk, you know.”

Granted, this was only their second meeting, but Reginald could easily see this becoming a troublesome habit.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You remember K’s appearance when you first got here?”

The catgirl’s head distorted and wriggled as if it was a piece of clay as it assumed the form of a thoroughly unremarkable male elf.

“You mean this guy?”

“...”

Despite his surreal experience from a few days ago, Reginald had still been caught slightly off-guard by the sheer speed and accuracy of this creature’s shapeshifting. Not only did it replicate his subordinate’s visage in what could be described as an instant, but it had done so in an almost excruciating detail. The face, the hair, the voice, even the dead-fish-like look in his eyes and his unmotivated manner of speech - all of it had been recreated perfectly. It was almost at the stage where even Reginald would have trouble telling the two of them apart.

“Yes, him,” he confirmed after a short while. “Just show that face to one of the guards, say you’re here to make a delivery to me and they’ll handle the rest. Oh, and do be extra careful around the secretary outside - she’s not one of us.”

“Alright, I suppose I can do that,” consented Boxxy as it shifted back into Keira and moving onto the other reason it dropped by. “Reggie, I need to speak with you about what happened two days ago.”

“I assume you’re referring to the incident where you encountered one of our ongoing operations?”

“Yeah. What’s the deal with that?”

Reggie suddenly stood up and bowed towards the seated Keira with such intensity that he practically slammed his head into his desk.

“I apologize, mister Morningwood!” he screamed. “It was an honest mistake! An oversight! I just wasn’t able to spread word of our agreement fast enough, and those men were in the middle of-”

“I didn’t come here to hear your worthless apologies or excuses!” growled the catgirl-shaped monster.

“Y-you didn’t?”

“Of course not! I can’t eat words! Besides, I wasn’t going to blame you for it in the first place! Any moron knows that it takes time for information to circulate! You think I’m stupid or something?!”

“No-no-no! I wouldn’t even think of insinuating something like that! It’s just that you asked me that question out of the blue and I just assumed-”

“That I was a gullible idiot who doesn’t know how the world works?!”

Well, that assumption wouldn’t be too far off the mark, and Boxxy understood that full well. Things like running an organization, how the government worked or the dos and don’ts of the criminal world were completely beyond the Mimic’s understanding. For the time being, at least.

“Look, Reggie, let’s just drop the act. We both know you’re not sincere anyway. Just tell me why you’re doing that stuff in the first place and I’ll steer clear of them.”

Reginald stopped his groveling and returned to his seat with a calm look on his face.

“Very well. It’s nothing that complicated, really. It’s mostly a way of helping raise the average Level of my organization’s members.”

Well, that much was obvious. Swaying a crowd with just words gave a significant amount of Doppelganger XP, something Boxxy had confirmed first-hand. In fact, if it wasn’t for that near-riot, then the Doppelganger Job would still be at Level 24.

“It also serves as a distraction, a sort of smokescreen to our actions,” he added.

“Oh? How come?”

“The commoners may try to hide it, but they are feeling the pressure of the ongoing war. It makes them fearful and distrusting, sometimes straight-up paranoid. That’s why we work to redirect those negative, potentially dangerous emotions towards an easy target like homosexuals.”

“Alienating a part of the population seems like it might be harmful in the long run.”

“It really isn’t. Commoners have very little value to us Doppelgangers to begin with, and non-breeders like those are practically worthless to our cause.”

“That’s not entirely true though, is it?” argued Boxxy. “That woman I’m using was so desperate for companionship that I had her eating out of my hand in a manner of hours. These days she’s clinging to me so much that pretty soon she might not even care if I’m outed as a fake.”

The Mimic wasn’t just saying that, either. Although its claim sounded like a mere exaggeration if one thought about it rationally, people burdened by notions such as love and trust were prone to acting irrationally. Rowana had already displayed such behavior when Boxxy attempted to create some distance between them two days ago so that it could act more freely. It showed her an unnaturally violent and merciless facet of Keira that it was sure would alienate the elf, yet she somehow ended up growing even more attached to the catgirl. It was a reaction that was as troublesome as it was unexpected, but one that proved even that extreme example was possible.

“Hmm, I suppose you may have a point,” admitted Reggie as he cupped his chin and fell into thought. “Repressed and sheltered individuals like her do make for easy targets, and infertility in a coupling like that is only to be expected. If a Doppelganger were to enter such a relationship, then ‘adopting’ a juvenile or two would potentially be beneficial…”

“That stuff aside, when can I expect for your ‘problem’ to arrive?” interrupted Boxxy.

“Either tomorrow or the day after.”

“Why not just ambush them on the way here? It’s much easier to kill someone on the road rather than in town.”

“The person in question is arriving via Forest Gate, so I doubt that would work. Also, I never said I wanted him killed.”

Boxxy’s glare immediately sharpened.

“I- I mean killing him is also a way to go about it,” he continued, “but not the best solution. You see, the man in question has been trying to prove our organization’s existence for years now. As far as we know, he has suspicions but no hard evidence. It’s not an official investigation, but he’s still got someone backing him up and providing him with funding. Simply murdering him or having him disappear would be too dangerous, yet we also cannot allow him to do as he pleases. I was hoping someone of your… particular insight would be able to do something about him.”

“I see. That’s unfortunate. I was really looking forward to ripping someone in half. A lot of someones, actually.”

“… Quite.”

“Well then, I suppose I’ll check the guild again in two days. Bye, Reggie.”

“Until we meet again.”

Keira stood up from the armchair and nonchalantly left through the same window she entered. Even if the Mimic agreed to Reggie’s demands regarding visitation, leaving through the front door was a bad idea considering nobody had been seen entering the Doppelganger’s office. The catgirl proceeded to stealthily make her way back home and spent the rest of the day slacking off with Rowana. Boxxy had decided to keep the existence of that pink gem a secret from her, at least for the moment. There was no way that shiny thing was ‘just a pretty rock,’ as that ignorant elf had claimed, and the Mimic’s intuition regarding shiny things gave it a good idea as to what was so special about it. Which was why it returned to its pet dungeon that very same night.

“Greetings, milord,” said Ambrosia as the box-shaped Doppelganger approached the core. “Does thou wish to sample of mine bosom?”

“... Might as well.”

Boxxy seriously needed something to take the edge off, and the dryad’s heavenly nectar was just the thing to do it.

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Ambrosia while clapping her hands.

Something akin to an armchair made out of vines rapidly grew out of the floor, and the dryad seated herself in it. Once she was comfortable, she patted her lap, prompting Boxxy to revert to its base form and climb onto it. It was then presented with a nipple, which it eagerly latched onto and started to suckle on with all its might.

“Oh! I see milord is quite enthusiastic tonight,” she said with a smile while gently stroking its bald head.

After about 30 minutes of greedily draining her bottomless breast, Boxxy detached itself from her nipple with a satisfied sigh. Just as expected, absorbing itself in something both tasty and filling did wonders to alleviate its stress, leaving it with a distinct feeling of contentment and satisfaction. It was just a shame that there wasn’t any meat involved. As tasty as the nectar was, it ultimately lacked something. It took more than mere flavor to make a meal truly tasty, after all, and in this case it was the unique sensation of crushing someone’s bones between its jaws and gorging on their blood. The notion of devouring something that was once alive brought with it a certain degree of enjoyment that couldn’t be found in Ambrosia’s syrupy fluids.

Then again, who said that it couldn’t enjoy both of those things at the same time?

“Claws, where are you right now?” it called out telepathically.

“Uhm… in the dungeon, about 20 meters above you, Master.”