“This price bites, you know.”

Facing Yekase’s lion‑maw quote, the maid Ariana sprang into a haggling stance, words sharp like knives. “If we meet everything you asked, that’s beyond a standard sky‑island’s top spec.”

“That’s why I want it custom. Custom for custom, fair, right? The mech goes to the front lines. I need the best in protection and stability. And this base frame creaks like old timber—outdated, rough, all splinters.”

Yekase hid the boast she’d made last night to cheer up Liu RuoYuan, and now had to lay out the scary build like opening a storm map. Flash Energy flickered in her eyes, twin flames swaying. She cut Ariana a glance, then kicked an armor plate; it slid mid‑air and locked like a swallow turning.

“Here—complete optimization of the power structure, both arms. Is that worth a nursery plot and an empty lab?”

“Enough.”

That word came from Labyrinth City, calm as winter water.

For the Silver Demon‑God Idol, she spared nothing and met Yekase’s terms like tipping silver from a bowl.

“Here—circuit pruning, less energy bleed at the nodes. I’m removing part of the water‑cooling like shedding ballast. Worth a warp beacon and a fume hood?”

“Enough.”

“Here—ports combed and rebuilt. It should fit every common mech firearm on the market. Quick‑switch into a no‑aim auto cannon, like a squall of steel. Worth a quarter‑sphere sky‑dome?”

“Enough.”

“Here—magazine placement optimized and expanded, lowered sympathetic detonation risk. Using my team’s space‑fold tech, two‑crate standard volume now holds three, like a pocket stretched by moonlight. Worth a quarter‑sphere sky‑dome and an air circulation system?”

“Enough.”

Yekase circled the Silver Demon‑God Idol like a hawk riding thermals, pointing out fixes nonstop. Piece by piece, she slotted upgrades until her floating‑island wish list fell into place like a finished puzzle.

…

Labyrinth City finally nodded, voice steady as stone. “Your price is reasonable. I accept.”

“Master…!”

“Ariana, tell Engineering to prep materials. We’ll need them for the Idol and the sky‑island both.”

“…Yes, Master.”

The maid darted from the hangar like a sparrow off the eaves.

Yekase dropped to the floor, unclipped the safety line, and let the hook slither up to the roof like a silver snake.

“Pleasure doing business, Ms. Labyrinth City.”

“Call me ‘Silver Princess.’”

“Ms. Silver Princess—”

“Silver Princess.”

“…Silver Princess.”

“Are you tired, Miss Mechbreaker?”

What is this—couple IDs?

Yekase had zero plans to marry off to Europe to hang with vampires and werewolves. No—she couldn’t accept the word “marry” at all.

“My eyes are out. Can you hold me? Any room will do. I need a rest.”

“With pleasure, Miss Mechbreaker.”

…So cringe.

Does everyone in this city play these cringe games?

“Just call me Yekase!”

They left the hangar for the guest quarters, footsteps soft like drifting ash.

When the Flash Energy went out in Yekase’s eyes, only chip‑red pupils remained, unfocused like glass. Regret tugged like mist—she couldn’t see the castle scenery along the way. Then ease settled like warm tea—there’s time in the coming days.

Labyrinth City felt lively and kind, like Sandryon, yet she carried the whole city’s weight, steady as a mountain. She thought in terms of profit, like counting grain.

…Sandryon chases profit too. Mostly when she’s playing the sly merchant.

Maybe Yekase’s naked resistance finally made Labyrinth City drop the cringe. A sigh fell like a feather. “Fine, Miss Yekase. I’m curious—your first ask was the master‑control logic. But when we reconciled the sky‑island list, you didn’t mention it. Is it unchangeable?”

“No. That’s a free service. If you hadn’t asked, I’d be too lazy to bring it up.”

“Why?”

Yekase held her breath, then let the words flow like a stream smoothing stones.

“The Idol’s core chip has a deep‑learning loop. That’s a master‑logic that, with its pilot at its side, crossed countless battlefields and years like tree rings, then sprouted an AI seed in the core—grown naturally, like moss finding shade. It’s a myth you stumble on, not buy. First time I’ve seen one in my life.”

Excitement pulsed in her voice like a drum. “Even in two hundred years of near‑scrap, you never abandoned it. If I’m right, you still sit in the cockpit and talk to it, yeah? Those drops, again and again, became… something like a soul in your mech.”

“…Uh!”

At “you still sit and talk,” Labyrinth City’s face flared red like maple leaves. Good Yekase couldn’t see it, or she’d laugh at the worst moment. Even so, the hand holding hers warmed like a kettle.

“So I’ll abandon the full rebuild and keep the seed. I’ll still optimize the boundary logic. As for payment—let me witness what a mech can be.”

“…Thank you, Miss Yekase. The Idol is my… most important comrade. As ‘Goddess Aruru’ is to Sandryon.”

“I’ve got a mech too—B‑666 Luciferin. It’s fun to pilot, but my own style gets shackled. Often I feel weaker in the cockpit, and that stings. Silver Princess, your body’s strong on its own. How do you handle it?”

“I cast through the mech.”

“Huh?”

“I use the mech like a staff to cast.”

“That’s a thing?!”

“As for other styles—mech war isn’t the same as body‑scale combat. If you force the same frame of mind, you’ll bind your hands. For example, I use a great axe or twin blades up close when I go myself. In the Idol, I hold the line in the ranks and play a proper artillery tower.”

“I see…”

What is Luciferin to Yekase?

The question rose like fog. She’d never truly thought about it.

A tool? A weapon? With Heavenly Divide, my long‑range AOE flaw is patched. I cover near and far, land and air. I burst when I push, sustain when I pull, and with time I’m solid senior cadre.

She didn’t even need a mech to fight mechs. So what’s the mech for?

Yekase fell into a mismatch, like a step missing on a bridge.

What am I seeking from Luciferin?

What did I once seek?

“—The Silver Demon‑God Idol is my closest partner. Piloting it needs no reason. The day we stood with it against a whole regiment of Church knights—it’s right there, like a banner in the wind.” Labyrinth City’s voice tasted of iron and old sun.

“…!”

Right. Yekase once chased a mech for only one reason:

Because the mech was there.

First sketch stroke in the quarry hangar, like a swallow’s tail. First sight of Luciferin in its shipping crate, like dawn cracking a lid. She didn’t think, “Now I can beat enemies.” She felt pure joy—like saving allowance for three months and finally buying a new toy.

She doesn’t need a mech for full combat output. In the cockpit, she feels weaker. But the mech’s not weaker than her; what’s missing is time spent to shape a new way of fighting, and she’s refused that time like pushing away a cup of water.

When did I start judging only by quick utility?

Keep walking like this—ten years, fifty… I may have a hundred more. When I lose those who keep me here, what will I become? The thought chilled like a night wind through pine.

Yekase trembled, a shiver like a leaf.

“Bro, don’t sink too deep,” a voice echoed like a pebble flicked across a lake.

Fa’ai, Liu RuoYuan, Labyrinth City… in the end, it was Yekase the mechanic who got reminded what a mech means to her.

“…Ha.”

“What’s that smile? I thought you were dead‑set on the sky‑island.”

“My next project’s set. I’ll coax a deep‑learning loop from Luciferin. Grow a natural AI.”

Labyrinth City didn’t know Yekase had just stepped back from a cliff of pure utility. She only gave the courteous wish like tipping a cup. “Then may you succeed.”

…

…

That night, Ariana guided sight‑restored Yekase through the Silver City. Lamps bloomed like soft moons.

“This is the Forced Ejection Device,” she said, pointing at a springboard‑like plate coiled like a frog.

“Oh…”

“This is Torrent Burial,” she said, pointing at a humble drain, a throat where water might roar.

“Very unexpected.”

“This is the Demon’s Inner Technique,” she said, pointing to a statue by the wall, a face that was hers like a mirror.

“Wait, that doesn’t sound like an item’s name.”

“When an intruder steps in, the speakers auto‑play my and my sister’s ASMR, like warm honey. If their will’s wobbly, the statue ambushes them…”

“A dirty off‑board trick!” Yekase paused, grin crooked. “Can I hear that track? No hidden meaning. I just want to see.”

“Of course, yo.”

Ariana crouched by her statue. From the base, she pulled a tiny drawer. Inside lay rows of early‑21st‑century plastic CD cases like a fossil shelf. She picked one and handed it to Yekase.

“Falling Into the Trap ❤ The Devil Sisters’ Service.”

“…Doesn’t look very proper. I’ll listen at home.”

They walked on, left the tower, and entered a skyway, a corridor hanging like a ribbon. Yekase glanced down through a window. The buildings that looked like residences now glowed with warm amber light. Silver’s flashy sheen drew back like a tide; it felt like any normal city.

“Among us monsters, some must eat human flesh and drink human blood to live,” Ariana said, voice level as rain. “It isn’t a bodily defect. It’s a concept our ancestors set, or a curse kind of thing.”

“Then find that old ghost and beat him, force him to lift it.”

“…You’re always confident, guest.”

“Am I?”

Yekase smiled, sheepish and bright, like a lantern under snow.

“Someone told me to believe in miracles—because wave functions spread.”