“Shush, it’s about to start,” Le whispered. Both Xia and Ann straightened in the wooden outdoor seating of the cafe where they had set up shop, but Han Yazhu practically wanted to pull out his hair. He was thoroughly tired of this game that Le was playing.

“Please Le, let’s not-” Then Han Yazhu paused as he saw a large group approaching out of the corner of his eye. “...is that King Phirun?”

When the group from Zone 7 had arrived at Kharon proper, they had been checked in at the entrance of the city but largely left to their own devices to get to the venue for the party. Han Yazhu had been scornful when they had simply been given a map of Kharon and let to wander within the bounds of the city, but the trio that was Xiang Le had been delighted by the freedom.

It was, after all, a far cry from what they could do in Zone 7 with the recent political unrest. They had known the publics' reaction to lying about Xiang Le would be strong, but the truth was… much more disturbing than that. The three women that had exhausted themselves for the past several years guiding the Zone needed a break.

So for the last two hours they had meandered around, looking at the different districts and shops. And to the three women’s delight, no one recognized them as the now-contentious leaders of Zone 7. They were just who they were.

Han Yazhu had been tempted to remind them to be careful due to the recent assassination attempts since revealing that they were women, but couldn’t bring himself to spoil the smiles on their faces. So he had accepted the diversion and followed his leaders around. He had even been amenable to taking a break when Le had suggested taking a break at a bakery along the ‘official’ route to the venue.

But now Han cursed his own shortsightedness as he saw the extremely massive body King Phirun waddling side to side down the cleared street. It was almost four o’clock and it seemed like the other delegations were starting to arrive.

“Yes,” Le said gleefully. Then she pointed to the empty plate on their table that once housed a decadent and heavy cinnamon roll. “And you remember his love of sweets, I’m sure. It is without a doubt that this combination of factors will trigger an event.”

“Event!” Ann whispered almost reverently.

King Phirun, leader of Ifrenne the Floating City and the whole of the Great Sea Zone, had likely been a large man even before the System had arrived. And because of the System’s strange magic, he had spent the last few years transforming from fleshy to ‘shocking to look at’. Every part of his body was covered with sweat and grease, to the point that his own black hair seemed to be slicked back with by-products of his own body.

Of course, he was also extremely strong. Despite the fact that his government was the most decentralized due to the vast amount of space his Zone covered, Phirun was one of the first groups to actively adopt some of the information about images put out by the Order Ducis. Which meant that despite their small number, Phirun’s warriors could hold their heads high against the larger armies of the other Zones that had been more resistant to the Ghosthound’s teachings.

And a group of his finest warriors followed after Phirun, chests bared and covered in intricate ink tattoos that supposedly denoted their status. All of the people present seemed to have torsos that were living tapestries of bright primary colors, indicating that no one was a slouch when it came to combat.

Han Yazhu was torn between urging his leaders to greet Phirun and staying silent to avoid the man’s attention when Phirun’s bulk stopped with remarkable abruptness only a few meters away from them.

With almost comical seriousness, Phirun sniffed. “Ah… hum… that smell…”

“Cinnamon rolls from this cafe,” Le supplied helpfully, pointing toward the green awning of the building behind them. Phirun’s eyes shifted and landed on her. Le adjusted her glasses and continued to smile at the gargantuan man. The moment stretched.

Then Phirun’s aura grew slightly heavy. He rolled his shoulders and began to frown. There was a claustrophobic, suffocating wetness in the air around them suddenly. Rather than in a cool autumn day with the sun overhead, it felt like they were isolated in a cramped cave. Han Yazhu’s hands on the table tightened. Xia straightened but didn’t look up from the task of writing continued notes on the details of Kharon. Ann almost lazily began to create a series of colored lights that danced around her palm in imitation of the Moss Spirits of Kharon.

Just as abruptly as he stopped moving his body, the image Phirun pressured the group with vanished. He glanced at the four people at the table doubtfully, clearly not recognizing them even though Han Yazhu had spoken with the man twice during his trips to Ifrenne. But it seemed enough that none of them had panicked in the face of his image. “...thank you for the information. Kiruk?”

A tattooed man behind Phirun punched his fists together and bowed. Phirun gestured imperiously toward the cafe. “Bring me one of these cinnamon rolls.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Kiruk bowed again and then strode confidently into the cafe. The minions of Phirun glared at the group sitting at the table as their King dug into his ear and produced a fat, green-yellow glob of wax. Le calmly took a sip of her tea with her eyes shining. If anything, she seemed excited by drawing Phirun’s attention.

Even without System-enhanced Perception, it soon became clear that an argument was occurring within the shop. There were even reverberations from images clashing within, but Han Yazhu was surprised to find that the shop owner wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by the muscular, tattooed man that went in to talk to her.

It seems that even the average citizen in Kharon isn’t a slouch when it comes to images.

And in fact, thirty seconds later, Kiruk stomped out with red face but no cinnamon roll to show for his time inside the cafe. He hesitated for several seconds while Phirun’s face warped in fury. “Ah… your honorable highness… the merchant within demands payment before she is willing to-”

“WHAT?!?”

Han Yazhu was genuinely surprised that when Phirun’s image blasted out this time, its power was enough to make the surrounding air seem to shiver in fear. It seemed the past pressure he released wasn’t all he could manage. Han also noted that there suddenly seemed to be quite a concentration of moss spirits floating overhead. In addition, he didn’t miss how delighted Le’s face became.

Before Phirun could expand on exactly why it was so unbelievable that the owner would ask for payment for goods and services, the woman in question walked out of the cafe with her hands folded behind her back. The old woman didn’t falter at all in the face of Phirun’s ominously powerful image and simply looked mildly out at the people from Ifrenne gathered in front of her shop. “If you aren’t going to pay, leave. You are bothering actual customers.”

“You dare?!?!” Kiruk snarled. But even when he stepped forward and blasted out his own image of violence and the furious power of the sea in storm, it didn’t do much to shake the sway of Phirun’s dominant and claustrophobic image on the street. For all that the man appeared foolish for demanding to be called a King, his power was very real.

Yet the cafe owner didn't even blink when pressured by the two images. Nor did she mobilize her own image. Which had Han Yazhu narrowing his gaze as he looked over at her. “Do you think you can intimidate me? You are a child and likely-”

“Now, now, now,” Suddenly a harried-looking man in a police uniform interposed himself between the two groups. He looked around and winced at what he saw. Because all the windows of the upper floors of the nearby buildings had people pressing their noses to the glass to see what the fuss was about. “How about we take a step back, yea? Audrey, I’ll gladly pay for this man’s food-”

“I don’t want her poorly made dirt,” Phirun said frostily. At the same time as the shopowner snorted and said. “I won’t give it to him.”

Both glared at each other. Phirun raised a fat finger and jabbed it at the older woman. “You would do well to watch your tone around me. Do you think that this city can protect you? My kingdom-”

Something changed in the air before anyone could react.

All sounds became muffled for a second. Han Yazhu’s breath hissed out through his teeth. It felt like there was a beast lurking directly behind him, jaws dripping with saliva poised to snap closed on his spine if he were to earn its ire. And from the jerky movements at everyone in the area, it wasn’t just him that was subjected to the sensation.

There was one clear sound: the sound of the monster’s breathing. Then the smell of musk and dried blood and death wafted forward, carried on the humid breath that those invisible jaws behind Han released.

In terms of images, it was the most horrifyingly powerful that Han Yazhu had ever experienced. His mouth was dry; his instincts continued to scream at him to not move, lest he attracted this predator’s attention. One of the guards behind Phirun collapsed into a heap while whimpering in fear.

The beast closed its ground and the air was filled with the mocking cackle of a hyena. Then the image was gone, and a man with animalistic features was smiling at the police officer. “Commissioner Arrietti, is everything alright here?”

The police officer seemed frozen stiff. It took a few seconds for him to work his lips and tongue into speaking shape. “...of course, Shifloo. Everything is fine here.”

“Of course,” Shifloo said smoothly. He glanced sideways at King Phirun and his group.

Phirun, to his credit, recovered quickly. Acting like nothing had happened, he began walking down the street with his chin raised. After a few shaky steps, his dozen or so guards followed in his wake.

After they had gone, Audrey bowed to Shifloo. “Thank you, sir Visitor. Would you like anything?”

“How could I possibly take something for just passing by?” The monster in partially human form waved his hand lightly. Audrey bowed again and then Shifloo sighed. “Well… if you insist… some of those eclairs I tried the other day-”

“Of course.” Audrey returned to within her shop and came quickly back out with a small bag in hand. Shifloo took the package, nodded, and walked away with his arm around the policeman’s shoulders. “So, Commissioner Arrietti, have you heard about what Myomb did to the recently constructed Premier Lane…”

After the partially animalistic man left, Han Yazhu gradually recovered his ability to breathe. His skin still tickled from the brief exposure to Shifloo’s image. Another few minutes passed before Han could force his hands to loosen from the instinctual grip on the wrought iron table. “That… how…”

“That was the most powerful image that I’ve ever felt,” Xia said quietly. Although she was still looking down at her notebook, her pen was completely still. “And… I suppose it would be foolish to assume that Randidly Ghosthound isn’t more powerful even than that…”

“Could our Zone survive if that man attacked?” Ann asked with an uncharacteristically serious expression on her face. Han Yazhu did some mental calculations on that question and didn’t like the answers at which he arrived. Mutely, he went pale and shook his head.

"We... should perhaps make some changes to our defensive scheme when we return..." Han said heavily.

Next to him, Le held her chin with both hands and blushed like a schoolgirl who encountered her crush. “Yes… this is exactly right… mmm….! That honesty is why you’re my favorite, Han~.”