2026-08-25 17:22:26"The System just jammed a skill into my stats without permission!"
Marcus's voice sounded panicked from near the register. Fabian, who was reorganizing boxes of mana batteries on the back shelves, merely raised his head. A blue screen had been floating in front of both of them for the past minute.
[Coercion Protocol Level 1 Active]
[Individual: Fabian Hart]
[Coerced Skill Granted: "Critical Analysis Rank-B"]
[Warning: Rejecting the next Main Quest within 12 hours will trigger a permanent debuff to vital statistics]
[Follow-Up Quest Offered: "Secure three logistics points in Bloomsbury and register them as a Chosen Hero base chain"]
Marcus stared at his own screen, which displayed a similar warning. "I got slapped with a warning too just for being near you! Fabian, this isn't a game anymore. A permanent debuff! You could die a slow death!"
Fabian looked at the new skill appearing on his status menu. Critical Analysis Rank-B. He opened his pocket calculator and keyed in the parameters the System had just provided. "This skill increases data processing speed by 40 percent. Useful. But I'm still declining the quest."
"You're crazy!" Marcus stepped closer. "The System says it's fatal! Are you really willing to die over tea and batteries?"
"I have no intention of dying," Fabian replied calmly. He swiped his finger through the air, opening a System rules panel that was usually hidden from anyone without extreme stats. "Look. There's a clause in the 'Efficiency-Based Quest Distribution' section. If an individual with charisma over 90 is within a one-kilometer radius and actively pursuing an open quest, the System is permitted to transfer the primary burden to that individual for the sake of 'species success optimization.'"
Marcus's eyes widened. "You're... reading the System's legal code?"
"Every system has loopholes," Fabian said. "Arthur Pendleton is still within the required radius. Latest data says his group exited the station dungeon two hours ago with only four casualties. He's currently camping out at Russell Square. Close enough."
Fabian inputted a few commands into the panel. The screen flickered. The quest text before them shifted.
[Primary Target Updated: Arthur Pendleton]
[Fabian Hart Designated as Non-Mandatory Logistics Supplier for Follow-Up Quest]
[Coerced Skill Remains Active as 'Minimum Contribution']
Marcus sat down heavily on his stool. "You actually passed the buck again. Arthur is going to be even more convinced that he's a true main character."
"Let him believe it," Fabian answered. "Belief drives him forward. I just need to make sure The Ledger supplies his provisions."
Someone knocked on the glass door. The teenager who had bought a route map yesterday rushed in, out of breath. "Mr. Hart! News from Russell Square. Arthur Pendleton is rallying people again. He says the System gave him a major quest to secure three points. He's claiming to be the chosen hero!"
Fabian nodded. "How many people are with him now?"
"Around twenty. There are nobles and two mages who bought potions here yesterday. They say Arthur is the chosen one, so it's safer to follow him."
"Good," Fabian said. "Do you want to sell additional information? I need their exact campsite location and an estimate of the supplies they're carrying."
The teenager nodded quickly. "I saw it myself. They have tents and a little food, but their mana batteries are almost depleted. Arthur said he's coming to The Ledger later to 'order' official supplies as a hero."
Fabian jotted it down. "Information logged. This afternoon's edition of the safe route map is 70 pounds. Or would you like to trade for a single AA battery?"
"I'll take the battery," the teenager replied. After the transaction, he left again.
Marcus rubbed his face. "He's really going to show up demanding a discount because he thinks he's the protagonist."
"He'll get the exact same price as everyone else," Fabian said. "Or higher. Hero status doesn't reduce scarcity."
He walked over to the wall map, which was now crisscrossed with lines. "Time to expand. Node one stays here. I plan to place node two near Holborn Station. Node three on the British Museum side. I need people who can manage small supply caches over there."
Marcus stared at him in disbelief. "You want to open branch locations in the middle of this mist? There's only two of us!"
"We don't need to staff them ourselves," Fabian replied. "Survivors who repeatedly buy information can be brought on as paid couriers. They get discounts and a small commission. The Ledger doesn't need an army. The Ledger just needs people who need money and are afraid of dying."
The System screen appeared once more, this time with thicker crimson text.
[Warning: Repeated Quest Diversion Detected]
[Individual Exploiting Efficiency Loopholes]
[Level 2 Coercion Protocol Under Evaluation within 48 Hours]
[Critical Analysis Skill Rank-B Irrevocable]
Fabian stared at the text. "Evaluate away. As long as the legal loophole exists, I'll keep using it."
Marcus stood up and began assembling small boxes for preparation. "Fine. I'm in. But if Arthur shows up with twenty people and tries to bully us, don't expect me to play the rescuing hero."
"I'm not asking for a savior," Fabian said. "I'm asking for someone who can accurately count remaining stock. Now help me prepare three initial supply packs: Earl Grey tea, mana batteries, potions, and copies of the route map. We'll send them out with our first couriers tonight."
The middle-aged woman who had bought water yesterday entered again, bringing two others with her. "Mr. Hart, we heard The Ledger is opening new locations. We want to sign up as couriers. What's the pay?"
Fabian turned to them. "A ten percent commission on every transaction you bring in. A twenty percent discount on personal purchases. Conditions: report every new route and don't steal inventory. Interested?"
The three exchanged glances, then nodded. "We're in."
"Good. Marcus, log their names. Give them the test package for the Holborn site." Fabian returned to his calculator. "Arthur is more convinced than ever that he's the protagonist. The System is getting more stubborn. I'm expanding our reach. The numbers are still in our favor."
Outside, the mist drifted slowly beneath the emergency streetlights. At Russell Square, Arthur Pendleton stood in the center of his group, raising his hand and announcing the new quest he had received as if destiny itself had chosen him. In the underground convenience store, Fabian closed the Ledger notebook after recording the names of three new couriers. System pressure was escalating. The legal loopholes remained open. And the network he was building had just gained two new points on the map of London.
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Chapter 126: The First Breach at Dawn
The northern perimeter of the settlement woke not to the gentle chirping of morning birds or the quiet rustle of autumn leaves, but to the cold, unforgiving bite of a winter frost and the sudden, violent shudder of frozen earth. At first light, breath pluming in the freezing air like thick white smoke, a heavy, muffled thud vibrated upward through the hard-packed soil. It was the kind of deep, concussive impact that did not merely rattle the ears; it settled directly into the bones of everyone standing near the barricades.Before the reverberation could even fully fade into the gray morning mist, it was followed immediately by the sharp, splintering crack of stressed pine. The sound was distinct, ugly, and entirely unmistakable—the unmistakable shriek of wood fibers tearing apart under immense, unnatural pressure.Vance’s advance guard had initiated their surprise dawn strike against the newly patched northern gate. They were not knocking politely, nor were they waiting for the mornin
Chapter 125: Preparing for the Siege
"If anyone else tries to requisition extra timber without my direct, written authorization, I’m personally nailing their boots to the floorboards of the command hall," Fabian roared, slamming his heavy brass paperweight down onto a stack of requisition forms with a force that rattled the inkwell."Stop shouting at the carpenters, Fabian, or you'll be the one building the wall when Vance's advance guard crests the northern ridge," Evelyn snapped back, marching past his outdoor desk without breaking her stride. Her boots crunched sharply over the scattered wood shavings that carpeted the central square. "We don't have time for your administrative tantrums. Miller needs every available hand at the western gate right now.""My tantrums are the only thing keeping this settlement from collapsing into a disorderly pile of kindling and debt!" Fabian shouted after her, jabbing his quill into a fresh sheet of parchment with venomous precision. "A settlement without an accurate log of its timber
Chapter 124: The Unseen Watcher
"If you drop that strap in the mud, Kael, I'm going to charge you administrative fees for soiling municipal evidence," Fabian muttered, not looking up from his endless columns of grain distribution figures as the scout kicked the command hall door wide open.Kael didn’t apologize. He tossed a heavy, oil-darkened strip of supple calfskin directly onto the center of the clerk’s freshly inked ledger, the wet mud splattering across the pristine margins with a soft, offensive thwack."Save your ledgers, Fabian," Kael said, his voice flat and dangerously low. He leaned his palms against the edge of the desk, his dark eyes locking onto the administrator's round spectacles. "Look at the buckle. Standard-issue brass plating, double-stitched with waxed hemp. That didn't fall off a stray merchant mule."Fabian dropped his quill, his face turning an alarming shade of mottled crimson as he stared at the soiled parchment. "Do you have any absolute conception of the bureaucratic damage you have just
Chapter 123: Lily’s Bargain
"If you think a basket of wilted root vegetables entitles you to priority water rights during a municipal drought, Lily, you fundamentally misunderstand the statutory boundaries of the agricultural ledger," Fabian snapped, his quill scratching an aggressive line across the parchment.Lily did not flinch. She set a heavy, woven wicker hamper directly on top of the administrator’s open accounts, her fingers stained deep with dried loam and crushed dandelion stems."They aren't wilted, Fabian; they are winter-hardy feverfew and iron-root leaf, freshly harvested from the southern beds before the morning frost locked the soil," Lily said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, measured cadence. "And you know damn well that without those herbs, half your clerical staff will be coughing up black lung from the workshop dust before the week is out."Fabian’s quill froze half an inch above a new column. He stared at the woven rim of the hamper, his jaw working as his mind calculated the precise e
Chapter 122: The Carpenter’s Blueprint
"If you spill a single drop of ink on these charcoal lines, Fabian, I'll staple your collar to the outer gatehouse and let the crows settle the administrative dispute," Miller growled, sliding a massive, dirt-smudged scroll across the scarred oak workbench with a heavy thud.Fabian didn't even flinch. He adjusted his round spectacles, peering down at the crude, dark streaks smeared across the rough-cut parchment. "Threatening an administrator with avian-inflicted property damage is a Class Four infraction under the municipal charter, Miller, but given the appalling lack of straight edges on this draft, I'd say the wind is going to ruin your fortifications long before the crows arrive.""Straight edges don't stop a Westminster battering ram," Miller snapped, planting both thick, calloused palms on the edge of the wood and leaning aggressively across the table. "Look at the angle. Thirty degrees off-center. Any iron ball or heavy timber they hurl from the ridge hits this shield and glan
Chapter 121: Dawn Logistics
"If another apprentice brings me lukewarm chicory instead of true leaf tea before the first ledger entry is balanced, I am locking the rations bin and throwing the iron key directly down the dry latrine," Fabian snarled, slamming his brass-weighted ruler against the edge of the weathered crate with a crack that sounded like a dry pistol shot.The trembling young boy standing opposite the makeshift desk flinched so violently he nearly dropped the steaming tin cup onto the ink-stained parchment. "The kettle wouldn't draw, sir. The damp got into the peat stacks behind the northern wall during the night fog.""Damp is an environmental variable, boy, not a legal defense for administrative incompetence," Fabian snapped, snatching the tin cup from the youth's blistered fingers and glaring into the murky brown liquid. "Look at this film on the surface. It tastes like stagnant ditch water boiled over charred fence posts. Go back to the quartermaster and tell him if he issues me another pound o
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