As darkness envelops the city, Murphy arrives at the construction site, cordoned off by fences and tarp, summoning a hundred skeletons once again.
Under Murphy's command, the skeletons expertly coordinated like a seasoned renovation crew, sawing wood and painting walls, while Murphy and Byron supervised from the side.
"Byron, the foolish Earl is about to be dethroned, does that make you happy?" Murphy casually struck up a conversation with Byron.
"A bit, I thought I'd be over the moon to see my brother's descendant step down, but I'm not," Byron replied. "What truly brings me comfort is the chance to guard this place once more after nearly a century."
"That's good to hear, given our sensitive status, we'll certainly need to position Seth as the new Earl to cover our tracks."
"Exactly, that's the plan. The demonic race's grand mission always comes first in my heart."
With dawn's arrival, the skeletons vanish once more. After a night of meticulous work, the "Alaric Supermarket" is shaping up – all that's left are some shelves, workers, and most importantly, the goods.
The merchants' strike is now zero hours away.
This morning, civilians who came out for groceries encountered a strange situation: where have all the vendors gone?
Not just the veggie shoppers – blacksmiths after iron ingots, carpenters looking for lumber, and tailors after fabric – found nothing for sale.
The City of Gath's market hub was deserted, regular material merchants and their wares vanished.
What's the deal? Why the absence? How will it be handled?
Civilians gathered at the market entrance, looking at each other in bewilderment and murmuring about what could've happened.
In the midst of confusion, a man runs from a distance, shouting, "Just asked the merchants' guild, turns out all the merchants who should be here are ill."
"All of them sick?"
"Better head home, don't want to catch whatever they've got," the crowd whispered, ready to vacate the market.
Then, a voice in the crowd:
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"They're doing it on purpose!"
All eyes turned to the source, a lean young man unphased as he continued, "Have you lot forgotten? The man hanged that day, the decree said many merchants and the former guild's president were oppressing us folks! With their president gone, they're clearly retaliating by not selling!"
A buzz went through the throng, with those who witnessed the execution briefing those who hadn't, and some groups started to strategize.
The young man pressed on, "Don't you know? The new president, Mr. Alaric, saw this coming and plans to open a grand market of his own."
To confirm, a guild worker in uniform fights through the crowd to the market's gate, unrolling a parchment to announce, "The guild has been informed of the no-show merchants and upon investigation, has found that all nineteen due to sell today are indisposed with a mysterious ailment."
The man smirks continuing, "To prevent any acute epidemic, President Alaric has sealed off the homes of the nineteen merchants, prohibiting unauthorized visits."
"And today, at 2 PM in the City of Gath, Bishop Hawk of the Victory Goddess Church will conduct a large-scale purification ritual in the town square. Please pass on the message, especially to those who have been in the market these past three days."
"Lastly, to ease panic sparked by the merchants' strike, President Alaric's reasonably priced shop will be officially open tomorrow afternoon. Stay calm, everyone."
The man delivers the notice and departs. The previous criers now proclaim, "Knew it! Alaric's a stand-up guy!"
A dissenting voice argues, "Sure, Mr. Alaric's decent but the merchants are genuinely sick, not vengeful."
The young man irate, "They're spiteful, want us bending over backward... I'll be attending the ritual no matter who believes what."
As the market crowd dissipates in debate, the quarreling duo find themselves on Cleyre Street, Number Two.
The scrawny Sam and a companion retell the events before Murphy, earning praise for their acting chops and a gold coin each.
They leave, and Murphy summons Pepe, "Check with the President at home, will you? See if he's finished drafting this afternoon's speech."
"Aye aye, Master!" Pepe departs with Buster trotting alongside.
Later in the city square of Gath, a throng surrounds the central stage where the white-haired Hawk, Bishop of Gath, stands ready to speak.
As the clock strikes two, the Bishop's deep voice rolls out, "Let the purification commence."
In the daylight, a divine glow bursts forth, spreading serenely from his outstretched arms.
A warm, spiritual satisfaction quickly envelops the populace, calming nerves and eradicating fears of contagion as their eyes fill with reverence.
Civilians kneel, crossing their hands over hearts, chanting the Victory Goddess's sacred name.
"A splendid sight, if a tad silly," Pepe chimes.
A rooftop away, Murphy and Pepe watch the ceremony unfold.
"It's quite the scene, Pepe. Not into the Victory Goddess, huh?" Murphy is surprised by the girl's irreverence.
Pepe shakes her head, "Never heard of her until I got here."
"Well, that's alright. Remember, we'd be hit with a weakness debuff if we stepped into the square right now."
"Understood, Master~ I won't forget."
Half an hour later, the gentle glow dissipates, and citizens help each other up, lavishing praise on the Victory Goddess.
Murphy nudges Pepe, daydreaming, "Watch closely – the President's about to start."
As the Bishop descends, Alaric takes the stage, clad in formal attire with the gleaming gold guild badge.
Raising his megaphone, he begins, "Honored citizens, I am Alaric, your guild President..."