Rain pattered against Eldoria's rooftops, a gray curtain that turned the streets into rivers of mud and mischief. The city shivered under the deluge, its cobblestone paths glistening with water that streamed from overflowing gutters and pooled in the dips of the market square. Stalls sagged beneath sodden awnings, their wares hastily draped with tarps, while lanterns flickered weakly, their light swallowed by the mist. The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth, damp wool, and a faint whiff of smoke from struggling chimneys—a day tailor-made for staying inside, and Duke Prince Kaneki Nohara had no intention of arguing with fate.
He sprawled across a cushioned bench in the castle's grand hall, a cavernous room of stone walls and shadowed corners softened by the crackling hearth. His crimson robe spilled over the bench's edge, its gold-threaded hems brushing the floor, and a steaming mug of chamomile tea warmed his hands, its floral scent curling upward. A threadbare blanket lay draped across his lap, and his slippers peeked out, toes wiggling in the fire's glow. The Laid-Back System hummed in his mind, its voice a gentle chime: *"Task: Stay warm and dry during a storm. Reward: 15 Relaxation Points."* He sipped the tea, savoring the heat as it seeped into his bones, and smirked. Rain was his ally, a perfect excuse to do nothing at all.
The hall's oak doors creaked open, letting in a gust of damp air and Sir Grumble, who stormed in with the urgency of a man fleeing a tempest. His armor glistened with raindrops, his beard dripped onto the stone floor, and his boots tracked mud in uneven streaks. Behind him trailed a guard, clutching a soggy parchment, his face pale beneath a dripping helmet. The hearth's light danced across Grumble's stern features, deepening the lines of exasperation etched there.
"Your Grace!" Grumble barked, his voice slicing through the rain's steady drumbeat against the windows. "A merchant caravan from Valthorne is at the gates, demanding entry! They've got enchanted goods—trinkets, they claim—but the townsfolk don't trust it, and neither do I. Not after that chimera stunt. And—" he hesitated, glancing at the guard—"there's more. A visitor arrived with them. Says she's your sister."
Kaneki froze mid-sip, the mug tilting dangerously. "My what now?" He set the tea down with a clink, his brow furrowing. "Sister? I don't have a—" He paused, then groaned as a memory flickered from his reincarnation briefing, that disembodied voice mentioning "family ties adjusted for narrative convenience." Great. Just what he needed—relatives crashing his nap time. "Fine," he muttered, peeling the blanket off with a dramatic sigh. "What's the merchant want? And where's this sister?"
Grumble's jaw tightened. "The merchant—Silas of Valthorne—says he's selling rings of strength, cloaks of invisibility, charms for crops. Wants gold, lots of it. Smells like one of Reginald's tricks to me. As for the girl, she's waiting in the courtyard, soaked but stubborn. Refused to leave till she sees you."
The system pinged: *"Bonus Task: Respond to urgency with reluctance. Reward: 5 Relaxation Points."* Kaneki stood, stretching until his joints popped, and grabbed a wide-brimmed hat from a rack by the door—its feathers drooped, but it'd keep the rain off. "Alright," he said, plopping the hat on his head. "Let's deal with this mess. But if I get wet, you're drying my robe, Grumble."
The knight grunted, leading the way into the storm. Kaneki followed, slippers squishing as he stepped into the courtyard, where rain turned the flagstones into a shallow lake. At the center stood a figure—small, wiry, and drenched, her cloak plastered to her frame. She had dark hair like his, tied back in a soggy braid, and eyes that glinted with a mix of mischief and determination. A battered satchel hung at her side, and she clutched a staff—not magical, just sturdy wood. She looked about nineteen, younger than Kaneki, and grinned when she saw him.
"Big brother!" she called, her voice bright despite the downpour. "Took you long enough. I'm Hana—your sister, apparently. Got dragged here by that reincarnation nonsense, same as you."
Kaneki squinted, the hat's brim channeling water onto his shoulders. "Hana, huh? You're late to the party. What's your deal?"
"Exploring," she said, shrugging. "Heard you're some lazy duke now, figured I'd check it out. Hitched a ride with that merchant guy—Silas? He's shady, by the way. Kept muttering about 'teaching Eldoria a lesson.'"
"Great," Kaneki muttered, rubbing his temples. "Another problem. Come on, let's sort this at the gates." He waved her along, and she fell in step, splashing through puddles with annoying cheerfulness.
The gates loomed ahead, slick and shining, and beyond them waited the caravan—wagons draped in oilcloth, their wheels sunk in mud. Horses snorted, cloaked figures milled about, and at the front stood Silas—tall, wiry, with a hooked nose and a smile too slick to trust. His green cloak shimmered with silver thread, and a staff topped with a glowing gem rested in his hand. The guards stood tense, spears lowered, while townsfolk huddled under eaves, their murmurs sharp with suspicion.
"Open the gates!" Silas shouted, his voice cutting through the rain. "I am Silas of Valthorne, bearer of wonders! Enchanted goods—rings, cloaks, charms to make your lives golden! Let me in, and prosper!"
Kaneki sauntered forward, Hana at his side, and leaned against the gate. "What's the catch, Silas? Nobody from Valthorne's that nice, especially not Reginald's crew."
Silas's smile widened, his eyes glinting. "No catch, Your Grace! Gold for goods—a fair trade. I've heard of your… unique style. Surely you appreciate a deal."
"Appreciate a nap," Kaneki shot back, yawning. "Why's Reginald sending you? Last time, I got a chimera. Now what—cursed junk?"
Hana snickered, nudging him. "Told you he's shady. Bet those rings explode or something."
Silas's smile twitched. "A gesture of goodwill, nothing more. Refuse, and I'll take my wares elsewhere—your loss."
Grumble growled, hand on his sword. "Goodwill? From Reginald? Your Grace, this is a trap—those trinkets'll ruin us. Let me send them packing."
"Nah," Kaneki said, waving him off. "Too wet for fighting. Let's see the goods." He nodded to the guards. "Open up. Keep him watched."
The portcullis rattled upward, and Silas strode in, his caravan squelching behind. The townsfolk pressed closer, curiosity battling wariness, and Silas unveiled his wares—rings glowing faintly, cloaks shimmering like mist, amulets pulsing with light. He named prices—ten gold for a ring, twenty for a cloak—sums that'd drain Eldoria dry. Kaneki saw the play: bankrupt the city, pave the way for Reginald's "rescue." Clever, but too much effort for his taste.
"Nice," he said, scratching his chin. "But I've got a better plan. How about a bazaar—my kind? No gold, just trades. Snacks, stuff, whatever."
Silas blinked. "A… bazaar?"
"Yeah," Kaneki grinned. "Keeps it chill." He turned to the crowd. "Who's in? Bring what you've got—I'll kick it off." He pulled a bag of dried fruit from his robe and tossed it onto a crate. Hana laughed, digging a chipped mug from her satchel and adding it to the pile.
The townsfolk hesitated, then bolted through the rain, returning with odds and ends—a scarf, a bundle of herbs, a dented pan. The goblins scampered in, offering pebbles and a bent fork, while the devil dropped a blackened coin, grinning. Silas's face reddened, his staff sparking, but Kaneki flopped onto a stool under a tarp, trading his fruit for a damp pillow and propping it behind his head.
"This isn't trade!" Silas snapped. "My goods are worth—"
"Relax," Kaneki cut in, sipping tea a maid fetched. "Watch."
The bazaar exploded into soggy chaos—trades flew with laughter and shrugs, a loaf for a pebble, a scarf for the coin. Hana swapped her mug for a goblin's fork, grinning at Kaneki. "You're ridiculous," she said. "Love it."
Silas's wares sat untouched, his prices laughable next to the freewheeling swaps. By noon, the rain eased, and the square buzzed with chatter, his caravan forgotten. "Fine!" he snarled, slamming his staff down. "Keep your trash—I'm done!" He stormed off, wagons creaking behind, leaving Eldoria unscathed.
The system chimed: *"Task: Thwart a scheme with minimal effort. Reward: 30 Relaxation Points."* Kaneki stretched, glancing at Hana. "You sticking around?"
"Yep," she said, plopping beside him. "This place is fun. Plus, you need someone to keep you awake."
Grumble groaned, but his lips twitched. "You're a menace, Your Grace. Both of you."
"Family trait," Kaneki quipped, closing his eyes as the clouds parted. Reginald's gambit drowned in rain and trades, and with Hana here, things just got lazier—and livelier.
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