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

CHAPTER 225: The Siren's Lair

Zurrel smiled, then handed her a pair of baskets filled with vials. "Since you're headed that way, could you drop these off at the Kaelmonts? It's the Lucid Vitae elixir and the formula. Now that we're certain it's stable, we want all apothecaries in the city to distribute it."

Silvestia hesitated but quickly masked it with an enthusiastic nod. "Of course! No problem at all!"

Zurrel handed over the second basket filled with neatly packed vials. "Don't dawdle on the way," he said, giving both girls a firm but kind look. "Get the errand done, and don't go wandering off."

Lefahne nodded in agreement, wiping her hands on a linen cloth. "And be careful. Don't let anyone bump into those baskets, okay?"

"And be back before dusk," Zurrel added. "The streets change when the sun goes down. We don't want to come looking for you."

Silvestia smiled and nodded quickly. "Got it! We'll be quick. Promise."

Then she tugged Fay by the wrist and made for the door.

***

The quaint apothecary door creaked open and the bell above it chimed. The scent of dried herbs and polished wood wafted through the air.

"Oh, my stars!" Lugene exclaimed with a smile, wiping her hands on her apron. "Had I known you two were stopping by, I would've whipped up a fresh batch of my honey-cinnamon cookies."

Silvestia returned a warm smile.

"Oh, what a nice surprise," Rue called from behind the counter, his spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. "It's good to see you again, Fay. What brings you girls by?"

Silvestia stepped forward, carefully balancing a basket in her arm. "We're just making a delivery, per my parents' request. It's the finalized batch of the Lucid Vitae elixir along with the formula."

Lugene and Rue exchanged a subtle glance—too brief to draw attention.

"It stabilizes withdrawals and reverses the long-term effects of pixie crystal exposure," Silvestia continued. "We've confirmed it's safe and effective for widespread use. Mother and Father want every apothecary in the city to distribute it at a reasonable price. They said what matters most is saving those in need, not profit."

A quiet moment passed before Lugene stepped forward with a bright expression, voice smooth and warm. "Oh, how wonderful! It's a blessing that your parents synthesized this elixir. They're truly remarkable. If only more apothecaries had such selfless hearts. You're lucky to be raised under such gifted hands, my dear."

"Yes, yes," Rue added. "Their name will live on in this city. What they've achieved—it's nothing short of miraculous."

But Silvestia barely heard them.

The moment Lugene reached for the baskets, a sudden sharp pain lanced through her skull and a whirlwind of fragmented memories surged forward:

—Carl's gaunt face twisted in agony.

—The vendor's hand trembling as she accepted a pouch under the cover of darkness.

—A wealthy man gasping his last breath as his most valued asset—his life—was wrenched from his grasp.

—A pair of devilish eyes burning into hers as she was caught spying through the window.

—A dark figure looming over her, pinning her down.

—A bitter liquid forced down her throat. The sensation of choking. Dying.

Silvestia's breath hitched. The storm of images sharpened, the faceless silhouette solidifying, aligning—merging—with the woman before her.

She gasped, her whole body freezing.

It was her.

Lugene Kaelmont.

Her fingers went numb.

The basket almost slipped from her grasp.

Lugene had poisoned her.

Her heart pounded so violently it felt like it might burst from her ribs. How? Why? They were like grandparents to her. How could they?

Silvestia fought to mask her horror, but the way Lugene's sharp gaze locked onto hers told her it was too late—she had been seen. The woman's kind face twisted beneath the weight of recognition. For a split second, there was a flicker—something cold and hard behind her smile. She exchanged a glance with Rue whose jaw set ever so slightly.

Fay's cheerful expression faltered as she glanced between them, sensing the tension hanging heavy in the air.

"Oh! Before you two scurry off," Lugene said, her voice honey-sweet, "why don't you sit for a while? I'll put on a kettle and make those cookies. Won't take a moment."

"Yes," Rue added with a chuckle. "It's not every day we get visits from young rays of sunshine like you. Stay, stay!"

Silvestia swallowed hard.

Her pulse raced.

She forced a nervous smile, her skin damp with sweat. "Actually, we can't today. We still need to stop by the market. We're making supper for my parents tonight—Fay's helping me cook their favorite dish, so we'll need plenty of time to prepare."

Lugene's smile stiffened. "That's sweet of you both. Shame, though. I was hoping to catch up. It's been so long, hasn't it?"

"We'll visit again soon," Silvestia said, quickly grabbing the other basket and setting both down on a nearby table. Her hand found Fay's and clutched it tight, her steps angled subtly toward the front door.

"Why the rush?" Lugene said, still smiling, but her tone grew firmer. "We insist you stay. Really."

"We insist we go," Silvestia answered, her voice polite but iron-clad.

Rue gave a light chuckle, but there was no warmth in it. "Before you run off, do you mind helping us fetch some tools from the basement? Old bones, you know. Can't lift like we used to."

"Maybe tomorrow morning," Silvestia said quickly, already reaching for the door. "We've got to run now."

Without waiting for another word, she opened the door and slipped outside. Fay followed close behind, their hands still clasped tightly.

The bustling street swallowed them whole. Silvestia's boots beat a panicked rhythm against the cobblestones as she led them through the crowd with urgency, not once looking back.

Fay stumbled slightly, breathless. "Silvie... what was that all about?"

She didn't answer.

Her eyes were wide.

Her thoughts a blur.

Her heart pounding with betrayal.

And fear.