The Corpse-Kin Token was a very special type of auxiliary potion.

For a set duration, it granted the drinker a false aura resembling that of a zombie, allowing them to move through hordes without triggering attacks. It also interfered with enemies or beasts that tracked by scent.

For anyone operating in the Dead City, a Corpse-Kin Token was a lifesaving weapon.

But its function wasn’t the remarkable part. The remarkable part was how difficult it was to make.

Especially one of this quality—with that metallic sheen shifting across the surface. That was exceptionally rare.

For a moment, Aurora felt genuine shock.

But then she thought about the reputation Pandora had carved out from the Ascension Road alone. The seemingly limitless scope of My Lady’s abilities.

The shock settled into calm.

For My Lady, this was probably just something she’d thrown together in her spare time.

The thought passed quickly.

Because Aurora’s mind had already moved on to the next problem.

The Corpse-Kin Token would perfectly mask their scent, letting them walk through low-level zombies without issue.

But My Lady’s extreme physical weakness couldn’t be solved by a potion.

In her current state, Pandora could barely stand. Long-distance sprinting or stealth movement was out of the question.

Which meant the responsibility fell on the knight.

No hesitation.

Aurora stepped forward, her black boots making a faint scrape against the ground.

She looked at the girl before her—weak, but still composed—and asked quietly:

“My Lady, please allow me...”

Their eyes met in the air between them.

Pandora said nothing. She simply nodded. Small. Slight.

Permission granted.

Aurora bent forward, gentle and careful, one arm sliding beneath Pandora’s knees, the other wrapping around her back. She lifted her into a princess carry, steady and sure.

Those long arms were strong. The warmth that passed through their clothes was the kind that settled the nerves.

Both of them uncorked the leaden-gray vials at the same time and tilted their heads back, swallowing the dim, muted liquid.

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Gulp.

It hit their throats.

A strange sensation flooded through them instantly.

Like an invisible membrane had wrapped around them, carrying the faint rot of decay, sealing them off from the world. Their presence went quiet. Dead quiet. Their warmth and vitality faded, blending into the cold, gray environment around them—becoming unremarkable. Undetectable.

A second passed.

“Then, My Lady... we go.”

Aurora murmured, eyes sweeping the rooftop’s edge, quickly mapping a route.

She stepped back. Adjusted her breathing. Adjusted her stance.

A short running start.

She planted her toe on the railing and launched herself into the air.

Wind roared.

Her figure cut a clean, precise arc through the sky and landed silently on the rooftop of the shorter building across the gap. Barely a sound.

Without pausing, she leaped again.

Her agile silhouette weaved through the Dead City’s broken skyline, silent as a bird in flight.

Two figures dissolved into the city’s gray atmosphere and vanished.

..................

Elsewhere in the Dead City, around the same time.

Poppy was on the rooftop of a residential building.

It had clearly been a lovingly tended rooftop garden once. It was long abandoned now, withered vines crawling over the railings, but you could still make out the care that had gone into it.

Poppy had picked this spot because the view was wide, the environment was decent, and it wasn’t far from the area her client had specified, keeping her within easy response range.

She was sprawled in a wicker lounger that had somehow survived, her long legs crossed loosely.

A slender pipe dangled from her fingers, unlit, spinning idly.

The wind was getting cold. She was weighing whether to find a more sheltered spot, or just find a ruin corner and take a nap.

Then a faint vibration came from her sleeve.

“Squeak squeak.”

The Palmfiend tucked inside made several quick, quiet chirps.

Poppy paused and held out her hand, letting the little creature crawl onto her palm.

In the pale yellow afternoon light, she read the message that had just come through from the contact known as The Snow.

Brief, clear, and radiating a distinctly good-natured energy:

“Commission complete. Payment will be delivered within three to seven days. Thank you for your effort, Poppy.”

“This is... done already?”

Poppy stared at the message. She muttered under her breath, mildly disbelieving.

“This client is actually this generous?!”

The deadline hadn’t even arrived yet. She hadn’t lifted a finger, hadn’t done a single thing.

She’d just... taken a trip.

A trip practically right outside her front door, at that!

And that was it? Already over?

The disbelief lasted about three seconds before it was drowned out by a wave of pure, unadulterated delight.

Because it meant she had done essentially nothing—no sweat, no fighting for her life—and she was still going to receive four high-quality potions that had made her heart sing when she first heard about them.

This was money literally falling from the sky.

“May good people be blessed with a good life!” Poppy laughed softly into the open air, voice full of genuine sincerity—and the very specific relief of getting paid without doing any work.

“I really hope there’s more cooperation like this in the future!”

In an excellent mood, her fingers flew across the Palmfiend, sending The Snow a short and breezy confirmation.

Then she rolled off the lounger, stretched her arms wide, and listened to several satisfying pops from her joints.

“Wrapped up~”

Poppy snapped her fingers. A satisfied curve sat on her lips.

Around her, the air thickened. A dense, faintly sweet smoke bloomed out of nowhere.

A massive fox tail woven from smoke materialized and curled around her, lifting her gently.

Humming something light and tuneless, she stepped off the rooftop’s edge and dropped into the vast urban landscape below.

The wind held a trace of her presence for a moment after she was gone.

..................

Nearly an hour later.

“This is...”

Pandora’s weak voice carried unmistakable surprise—and a note of outright disbelief.

Her gaze traveled over Aurora’s shoulder toward the building in front of them.

The place Aurora had brought her to was not the discreet apartment building she had imagined.

Not even a secluded abandoned villa.

It was a large, grand hotel.

One that, even by the lavish standards of the old civilization at its peak, could only be described as luxurious.