The Pale-Masked Girl

Chapter 21: Chap. 18 : Tools of the Trade


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Zoemie woke up tired still. I feel fucking awful. She shook her head, trying and failing to get her head out of the fog. With what yesterday was like, no point trying to force much out of me. At least she could take it at her own rhythm here.

If this had been back in school, nobody would've given a fuck she just had to kill someone yesterday in... well, maybe not self-defence, but considering that they had tried to enslave her, Zoemie was fairly certain it would slide in a courthouse. Then again I can teleport and am fuckoff strong. Pretty sure the cops could do nothing against me.

Zoemie shook her head and decided to close her eyes and rest for a while. She had no urgent duties at this point – Xajymzia had handled the other adventurer, and recovered her equipment before putting it in storage.

She was going to look over the stuff the bastards had on them eventually, like she had done with the bandit guy, but she had no intention of doing that until she was rested, fed, and washed at least. Zoemie turned her mind to her games, instead. Gotta have to rework the rare spawns huntings strats. Maybe look into exploits ?

Zoemie rested for a while before she was taken out of her reverie by a hunger pang, teleporting into the kitchen and serving herself breakfast as usual. Following this, once her post-breakfast routine done, she sat on her bed for a while, before opening up her computer and looking for something to do.

She ultimately decided against playing, however, simply reading downloaded guides and looking for something she might have missed. Wait, I can... Oh, that's good to know, I can get access to these demo-exclusives places for some easy rare spawns by mail abuse. Nice. She noted it on her one of her many note files, and went to look for more.

After some of this, Zoemie got a little bored and went for her bath, thinking about other games a bit, but mostly about yesterday. Urk. That sucked. I thought killing people who pissed me off was gonna be easy, but man, fuck that nonsense with a rusty spork.

Like, they... well, maybe not deserved it, but at the very least made it clear that backing out or sparing them was a bad idea, but like, I don't feel much better even knowin' that. Zoemie grumbled. She would much rather think about something else. Like how to continue her current game, or how pretty Neth was.

But there was one thing that Zoemie was sure about. I need to get... well maybe not stronger, but like, yesterday was an objectively terrible battle. If I get that kind of feeling hounding me everytime, doesn't matter how strong I am, for starters.

And even that, her sole intelligent decision had been to split them up at the beginning. The surprise effect had granted her an easy kill, which had very much put the situation in her favor, but it still felt to Zoemie messy in a way she disliked. I need to... I don't know exactly. Train ? Rework my approaches ? Urgh, I'm not good at this shit.

Zoemie grumbled as she left her bath and dried herself, wrapping the towel around her body. After dressing up, she considered. I'm tired... fine. Nap first and checking out their shit second. Zoemie teleported to her room and lied on the bed for a while, closing her eyes and drifting off.


Zoemie snarled internally as she dreamed again. At least this time it's on a short nap I guess. She was this time around looking at a plaza. The purple-haired woman was here, looking more attractive than ever, cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothes, wearing a crown, rather than her practical combat outfit.

The blonde woman wasn't here, but the armored figure was, sitting in the backline and no louder than before. They were simply staring at the crowd, and Zoemie felt an eerie feeling crawl down her spine. There was another man in fancy clothes, probably an advisor of some kind, and a copper-haired maid who glared daggers at the archer.

A large amount of commoners were looking at her, as she prepared to evidently give a speech of some kind. There were cheers among the crowd, "Hail to the queen !" sang by a thousand voices.

"Good people of this country !", the advisor started, th ecrowd cheering. "Please welcome Queen Qareva the First !" he continued, the crowd cheering louder, causing Zoemie to wince, and attempt to cover her ears, only to realize she didn't seem to have any.

As the purple-haired woman started talking however, the dream greyed out, the mechanical voice speaking again. It came off as frank, this time, almost grateful even.

"they do not know what they were spared

they never shall and cannot even imagine it

 

twisted, shattered and broken

let her name be f o r g o t t e n

 

you have our gratitude"

At this point, the dream ended, Zoemie feeling peaceful and strangely teary-eyed.


Zoemie shook her head as she woke up. This dream had been... almost pleasant, strangely. Or at least it hadn't been an horrifying scene she understood jack shit about. She did not know how she felt about receiving a dream thanking her for comitting gruesome murder, but... Well, I ain't gonna complain.

There was a sigh, and Zoemie teleported to her workshop. Like it or not, I need to do this at some point. She then teleported the adventurer's equipments, which had been cleaned, desodorized, and put in a case apart from the others. Thanks Xaj. The first item Zoemie took out was the bow. "It has no arr... Oh. Oh, that's nasty."

Zoemie felt oddly offended as she realized how the bow conjured its arrows and hijacked her dungeon's abilities to do so, complete with arrow variations. Bitch didn't have a... dammit what's the name of these arrow containers... It started with Q, right ? Quav... Quiq... fuck I forgot. Zoemie shook her head.

"This is an interesting effect, could be applied to other weapons." On a big gun or artillery battery something like that, this could be absolutely terrifying. She put it on the side for now, focusing on the archer's dress next. Hmm, this is enchanted. Like the same thing I do when I curse stuff. The manual within her head informed her that the two were very similar things. Oh, okay.

"This is for boosting stealth and agility." As if I wasn't slow enough already. Bitch. Zoemie sighed and focused. "I'm not good at sneaking around. This probably won't help." Still, good to know about, I guess. Zoemie threw the dress on the floor behind her. "Next, belt..."

Zoemie looked at the belt for a minute. "Ok. It's a leather belt. Nothing particular about it other than... Urk, gross. I mean, I get it, leaking down there sucks, but that's still gross." Zoemie put it behind, and picked up the next item. "Shoes. What is... that enchantm... how did they design... Okay, what the fuck ?"

Zoemie channeled magic within the shoe, and pushed on it. It bounced a bit. She pushed harder, the shoe bouncing higher. "They designed fucking magic-controlled spring shoes." I am stealing this. She experimented around a bit more. "It has variable power, perfect angle control... Like what the shit ?" I'll definitely need to upgrade my shoes with that.

Zoemie smiled, as she put the shoe on the side instead of behind her. She picked up the next piece of loot. "Right." she focused, her eyes narrowing. "This thing. That item they used to... try to break the wall." Man, did that spook me. It was pale blue, vaguely buckler-shaped, with four golden prongs in cardinal direction and a dark blue bump on the middle.

It had a grip on the back of the plate, Zoemie picking it up and channeling magic through it, the item trying and failing to work, since there were no dungeon walls in front of it. "Gotta have to figure out how this thing work, and why it failed. Maybe Xaj might know ?" Not complaining either way.

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She put the item down, and picked up the collar next. "Completely burned out." She shivered. That had been... terrifying. It was black, and heavy, Zoemie thought as she moved it, the metallic latch broken and charred. "... Qareva, huh ?" she said, remembering the dream. Zoemie looked at the ceiling for a short while, before closing her eyes. "Hope you're burnin'."

Zoemie gritted her teeth, suppressing tears as she put the item behind her and picked up the helmet next. "That was the armored one, who barely said anything." She looked at the helmet, unsure of the material. Probably some kind of enchanted steel ? Wait. I did make something similar while fucking around with materials making my equips.

"So they had some pretty good equipment, I guess ?" The bandit guy def didn't have the same kind of shit. "It's enchanted too. Damn. Just how weak do you have to be to get OHKO'd like that by fucking me while wearing this ?" She put the helmet behind, and picked up the armor.

"Yeah, same, pretty much." Loads of enchantment, damn. Although Zoemie could not tell it due to lacking the skill necessary, the armor she was looking at had been expertly crafted and enchanted by someone who knew exactly what they were doing and had plenty of experience.

Instead, she picked up the defender's hammer. Urgh. Heavier than it looks. "This is for... busting down heavy armor, I guess ?" It had a metallic handle and head, looking like an elongated clawhammer rather than a sledgehammer, the latter being what Zoemie expected when thinking of a combat hammer.

"That the armor-stripping enchantment is... urgh. Doesn't seem to work against me, though." Maybe it's a power thing ? Zoemie asked herself, before the feeling in her mind confirmed it. "Seems like they were a bunch of bastards, and of course they were at the very least pretty damn well-off."

She looked at the case. They still were a lot of items, but most of them were the blonde brawler's, since unlike the armored figure she had a storage artefact of some kind. If the archer had one, it had disappeared with her corpse. Zoemie didn't know what happened it such an artefact was physically destroyed.

The manual within her mind answered, telling her the content spilled out in that case instead of being lost. Zoemie went to pick up the next item, before she shook her head and stretched her arms, yawning. I'm gonna take a music break and go back to it a bit later, she decided. I'm startin' to lose focus.


After enjoying some music and walking around a bit in her dungeon, Zoemie was now back in her workshop, and picked up the first item in the case. "...A magical tent." Zoemie guessed, looking at the poles. "For sleeping outdoors, huh ?" Zoemie did not enjoy the outdoors much. And neither did her father or Neth.

Rain, cold, heat, and windproof. Can't have been cheap. It seemed to have not been used in a while, Zoemie putting it behind her. I can teleport. This is pretty damn useless to me. She picked up the next. "...Paint ?" That's... a paint container... Why is this... Zoemie, you're a fucking idiot.

"This is... warpaint ? I think this is." Zoemie raised in eyebrow in confusion. "...Strength-increasing warpaint. Only works as long as the paint is exposed to air." Pretty fucking strong, too. Even just painting my face with this stuff would give a notable boost. "If I stripped myself naked and painted mostly everything , I'd have overall more strength than with my own fucking stuff !"

That'd be far too fucking dangerous, though. "Why didn't they use a trump card with that level of power ? Because they didn't have the time, I guess ?", said Zoemie. "Catching them wrongfooted really played in my favor, but... Why not come with the paint set up to begin with ?" Were they that fucking stupid ?

Zoemie shook her head as she put the paint container to the side and picked up another item. "An earring for... quick outfit-swapping." I'm stealin' this too. Although not as an earring. Zoemie's ears weren't even pierced to begin with. This is gonna be convenient. Zoemie suppressed a yawn, and decided to check out the next item.

"That chick's combat gloves." These look menacing. Zoemie definitely felt an unpleasant feeling still staring at the items. These were heavy and weighted, delivering powerful blows at close range. Could easily break limbs. "What was the name of this type of gloves Neth told me about once ? The ones with powdered metal in pouches ?"

As Zoemie considered, she had an idea. "Hmm. That could be an interesting weapon to make..." She crossed her arms, thinking out loud. "The sword hits like a truck, but for pure melee it's not that good. Still gonna be useful, but having something to make fists stronger could help..." But at the same time, do I need it ? "Not right now, but maybe later, yeah. Better have it and not need it..."

She shook her head, and picked up the woman's clothes next. "Hmph." Enchanted as well. I am not sure about the fabric. Don't think it's leather, though. "Makes the wearer tougher and stronger, huh. That makes sense, I guess." Channeling mana through their bodies to reinforce them. Seems pretty common among this stuff.

Zoemie looked at the items. Those behind her, who would be sent back into storage, and those on the side who she would look at further later. She sighed, stretching her arms again. "...Enough for today." she decided, and got up form her chair before teleporting in her room again.

"Catching them wrongfooted really played in my favor." Zoemie concluded. "Still probably gonna have to train a bit ?" Urgh. That sounds like a pain. Zoemie sighed. She decided to call it a day, teleported back into her room, booting up a game and starting to play.


Dinner this night was roasted honey chicken and potato cubes. That stuff is good. The sauce is really good, Zoemie thought as she served herself more sauce on the chicken. Xaj is a boss at this, damn.

She focused, eating her food in peace as she thought about her games. The exploits are working really well. It alleviates the grinding a bunch by making some recruits easy. Gonna have to figure out a few things, but it'll help.

Once Zoemie's post-dinner routine was over, she teleported back into her room, having found herself thinking about what she could use and would have to make. "Definitely gonna want to fuse a pair of these spring shoes things, yeah. These are busted."

Zoemie didn't think she had fused shoes, so she would have to do them now. That mostly went to the fact Zoemie had a perennial repulsion towards anything to do with feet, so she had picked something quick and easy to conjure in steel-toes sport shoes so she wouldn't have to think about it further.

She shook her head, and booted up her game. "Let's roll." She spent a few hours playing, before quitting and booting up another game, playing absent-mindedly while thinking about her other games.

Gaming did a wonderful job at calming down Zoemie's nerves. The day hadn't been too awful, but she still disliked having to think about this kind of things. Peace and quiet shouldn't have to be this hard to get, dammit... Still, could've been worse. I could've gotten caught by the archer, or fought them in a 1v3...

It was at around 4 AM that Zoemie went to bed, having trouble falling asleep due to her mind working pretty intensely still. Zoemie never knew when she fell asleep – she never looked at the time once in bed. It avoided the "six hours remaining... five hours remaining..." thing her mind did otherwise.


Duke Vosvelz took a deep breath, trying to refrain from slamming his desk. The magical item had been unequivocal. So that woman is dead. To be expected from an adventurer. The problem the duke had was different. I should have acquired ownership of her... properties.

There had been an agreement between the two, at her idea no less, and both the duke and the adventurer had been there as it was implemented, of her... properties to be inherited by the duke where she to fall in battle.

At least Qareva was an useful ally, the duke thought. He did not like dealing with adventurers much, for the most part. They were unpredictable, disloyal fellows who regularly disrespected his position and only worshipped strength. At least the greedy ones weren't an issue, but those with quote-unquote "principles" ? He couldn't stand them.

Qareva, however, had been an exception. She had been a bit expensive in upkeep, but otherwise loyal, reliable and competent, whether it was for guarding him in situation his guards couldn't be trusted, removing nuisances to his business, suppressing witnesses and collecting debts without leaving tracks back to him.

I will have to have some investigations done, the duke decided, the middle-aged, brown-haired, balding man thought as he looked out the window. Said properties were pretty expensive, and she had quite a lot of them. It had been a most certainly worthwhile investment that had given great returns, so he did not regret doing so.

If things had worked as they should, he would've promptly resold the properties, recouping his losses, but it seemed things weren't going to be that easy. Of course, doing those investigations quietly wasn't going to be easy, but he was a duke. Whomever was responsible was going to have to pay... starting by reimbursing the investigations costs.

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