Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended [Part One]

CHAPTER 169: No Cauldron, No Cackle - The Witch That Wasn't

[You were subjected to a corporeal attack. Αφινίτη's Blessing has countered the threat and preserved the sanctity of your physical form.]

"Who's there?!" Daisuke bellowed, twirling around like a started Lipanthyer, daggers drawn, eyes wild and smoldering.

"Fascinating," murmured an elderly woman, her figure peeling away from the wall like a Nyssylis shedding its camouflage. "To think you would be able to negate my spell, and at such a young age at that. My, my... it seems there's a first time for everything."

Daisuke swiftly raised an arm, halting Lumielle's advance. His gaze sharpened, anger lacing his words. "Who are you?" he demanded, bristling at the way she studied him, as though he were nothing more than a long-overdue experiment awaiting dissection.

The woman chuckled softly, her calm tone coated with an air of superiority. "Shouldn't I be the one asking that question, child? You barged into my home uninvited, poking around as though you owned the place. Did no one ever teach you basic manners?"

Her gaze then shifted to Lumielle, her expression twisting into a light scowl. "And you, Princess Lumielle... under normal circumstances, I'd turn you into a flea for daring to bring this insolent boy into my sanctuary. However," her lips curled into a sly smile, "since it's been quite some time since I witnessed something truly fascinating, I'll offer my forgiveness—provided you pay one hundred thousand gold in reparations."

Daisuke's eyes widened in alarm. "O-One hundred thousand?! You can't be serious?!"

The princess bowed her head repentantly. "Very well."

"Wait, what?!"

Sinister Granny allowed a crafty smirk, and Daisuke frowned. He had braced himself for the sight of a cookie-cutter witch straight out of the common trope: long, gnarled fingers capped with cracked, yellowed nails; a sagging face riddled with wrinkles, crowned by a large, pointed hat; and, of course, a bulbous nose with a prominent wart. Yet the reality of Sinister Granny shattered every expectation, just like her dwelling.

The woman's snow-white hair fell in sleek waves to her shoulders, glinting with a luster that belied her age. Her skin, while marked by the years, was smooth and radiant with a timeless grace rather than the haggard visage he had imagined. Perfectly manicured nails gleamed like polished ivory. Her attire was nothing short of luxurious—a flowing gown trimmed with gold filigree, more suited to a noblewoman hosting a grand ball than a reclusive witch dwelling in an enchanted forest.

Daisuke's frown deepened. No, Sinister Granny wasn't a witch or even a noblewoman, she was just a clever con artist.

***

"So?" Sinister Granny prompted, her tone poised yet edged with irritation. She took a measured sip of her tea, the delicate clink of porcelain following as she set the cup on its saucer. "To what do I owe the displeasure of this rather unwelcome intrusion?"

Daisuke winced at the woman's refined table etiquette.

"I need your help," Lumielle stated firmly, ignoring the palpable tension in the room.

"Oh? With the Mhaledictus prowling as they are," the woman remarked, "I must admit, I'm rather astonished you'd venture so far without your precious escorts. Or was it your intention to offer yourself up to them on a silver platter?"

"You know about the Mhaledictus?" Daisuke asked.

"Of course," the woman replied smoothly, a cool grin playing on her lips. "My darling familiars ensure I have eyes and ears everywhere."

"Now where have I heard that one before," Daisuke muttered wearily as he recalled Guildmaster Baldin's similarly grandiose claim. "Alright then, what can you tell us about them? Any idea where they're based?"

"Who's to say?" the woman replied, her tone so casual it felt like a slap in the face.

Daisuke let out a long, exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Figures. Why did I even bother."

Sinister Granny took a slow, deliberate sip from her teacup, her gaze steady as she peered over the rim. "There's a reason this crime syndicate has earned such a notorious reputation on an international scale."

"International?" Daisuke repeated with surprise.

The woman gave a single, knowing nod. "Indeed. The ones at the top are exceptionally clever. They pull the strings, orchestrating everything with chilling precision. The people beneath them? Mere tools—carefully controlled, given only what they need to know. They operate like the tentacles of a squid: expendable, interchangeable. If one gets caught or compromised, it's discarded and replaced without hesitation. Casimir was simply one such casualty."

"You even know about Casimir?"

The woman's expression tightened, a trace of frustration darkening her features. "I've known for some time that the royal palace has been infiltrated by their ranks. But every time I manage to get a lead, it slips through my fingers, leading to nothing. I considered letting you know, but I feared they would become even more alert if I did."

"...They are masters at concealing their movements," Lumielle murmured, her voice heavy with dejection.

The witch nodded thoughtfully. "This leads me to believe they don't maintain a local base of operations. The truth is, they're highly meticulous and inventive in managing their communications. Information is encrypted in code and relayed through several intermediaries—strangers who remain unaware and have no connection to the syndicate. Goods are transported in a similar manner.

As a result, despite my familiars' far-reaching abilities, I lack the necessary insight to predict their movements or devise an effective plan to track them."

Daisuke's fingers clenched into tight fists as he snarled. "Those slimy bastards."

A subtle frown tugged at the woman's brow as she raised the porcelain teapot, only to find it empty. She set it down with a soft clink, her patience clearly wearing thin. "You've lingered long enough," she remarked, her voice turning cold. "State your business, or leave."

Unperturbed by the sudden shift in her demeanor, Lumielle's voice remained calm as she spoke. "I was hoping... you might know a way to turn Haxks into a woman."

Daisuke couldn't say he was at all thrilled about this whole situation, and his masculinity paled at the verbalization of the blasphemous idea. However, his curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself keen to hear what the old woman would say. He tilted his head slightly, his attention piqued as she raised a curious eyebrow.