The scent of aged paper and incense lingered in the newly constructed archive hall—one of the latest additions to the headquarters rising within the Master's secret world. A structure of elegant grace, it resembled a fusion of a scholar's temple and a strategist's war room. Its walls whispered with the presence of knowledge—scrolls containing intelligence reports, mercantile trends, celestial anomalies, and cultivation secrets not even the gods dared utter aloud.
At the far end of the hall, illuminated by a soft glow that came not from torches, but from floating orbs of stable qi, the Master sat. Reclined in his usual position, half-lidded eyes studied a parchment hovering in front of him. His fingers, long and relaxed, drummed lazily on the edge of the table while koi swam silently in the ethereal pond outside, just within view.
The world was quiet here. But his mind was not.
"Progress?" he asked calmly, his voice low, like a breeze sliding through bamboo leaves.
A shadow flickered beside him, resolving into Eira, clad in loose silks of smoky gray that barely rustled when she moved. "Sects are beginning to notice the changes in market flow. We've undercut enough core materials that even the Immortal Market Association has started to send out feelers."
"Good," the Master murmured. "And their conclusion?"
"They suspect a coalition of merchants trying to dismantle their monopoly. They haven't even begun to consider a central figure."
"Let them squabble over shadows."
Eira inclined her head and stepped back into the dark corners of the room.
From another hallway, Thorne stomped in. Unlike the others, he didn't mask his presence. His boots echoed heavily on the polished stone, and a blade larger than most men rested against his back. He looked as if he'd fought his way through an army just to deliver a report.
"They challenged the 'Heaven's Pulse' convoy," he said without preamble. "Thirty attackers, some in the late stages of Soul Rebirth. They thought they could steal the goods."
The Master raised a brow, not out of surprise, but amusement. "And?"
"They're dead." Thorne smirked. "The convoy barely broke a sweat."
"Perfect. Their deaths will send a message," the Master said, reaching for a cup of tea Eira had placed beside him earlier. He took a sip and closed his eyes. "But messages are only useful if someone's listening."
A moment of silence passed.
From the ceiling, upside-down and humming to herself, the third subordinate dropped down like a spider descending a thread. She flipped midair and landed soundlessly, tucking a strand of black hair behind one ear.
"I've planted the rumors in three major sects. Two already sent spies. One got caught. The other... well, he's got a new name, a new face, and he's unknowingly working for us now."
"Very good, Arin," the Master said with a faint smile. "I trust you didn't make it too easy for them?"
"Oh no. I let them sweat. One almost caught me." She giggled. "Poor thing thought he had me cornered. He even pulled out a Heaven-Severing Talisman."
Thorne snorted. "You're too reckless."
"And you're too stiff," she said, sticking out her tongue before hopping up to perch on the railing like a bird.
The Master let the banter wash over him. They were efficient, loyal—and entertaining. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself companions, even longer since he'd allowed them to speak freely in his presence.
But something about their quirks… their individuality… kept the loneliness of eternity at bay.
The system's voice crackled to life in his mind.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: THREAD #001 ESTABLISHED — GLOBAL MERCANTILE DISRUPTION]
[EFFECT: Celestial Markets have entered a destabilized state. Five factions will retaliate. Influence +4%. Mastermind Rating: C+]
The Master raised an eyebrow. "C+?"
[You're new to playing puppet master. Let's not inflate your ego yet.]
A slight chuckle escaped him. "We'll see how long that rating lasts."
[Careful now, Master. Confidence is admirable. Hubris is a genre cliché.]
"Then I suppose I'll just have to rewrite the genre."