Moonsong Manor

XI

Moonsong Manor was larger than I expected.

The estate sat on the outskirts of the city, a relic from a time when noble families still flourished in Amsten. It had seen better days—the iron gates were rusted, the stone walls weathered, and the overgrown garden gave the whole place an abandoned air.

But to me, it was perfect.

Nika followed closely behind as I pushed open the heavy double doors. The manor's interior was dusty and cold, but the structure was solid.

It was mine now.

Acquiring the manor had been an ordeal.

The Empire's bureaucracy had rules about land ownership. A person needed to be within a certain income range to qualify for an estate. Normally, this meant proving a stable source of wealth—one that didn't come from questionable activities.

I, of course, had no such thing.

Bribing the auditor seemed like the easiest route, but the man had the gall to act like I was lowballing him. I refused to play his game—so I did what any respectable gang boss would do.

I blackmailed him.

He had skeletons in his closet. I simply opened the door.

And just like that, Moonsong Manor was mine.

I sighed, shaking my head as I took in my new home.

"Congratulations," I muttered to myself. "I am now officially a landowner. What a fine, upstanding citizen I've become."

Nika, who had been quiet, finally spoke.

"This place is… big," she said, looking around with wide eyes.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Plenty of space."

"For what?" she asked.

I didn't answer right away.

Because truthfully, I didn't know yet.

The manor was a means to an end. A place to operate. A place to hide. A place to grow something bigger.

Robin had been gone for barely a week, but I had already done plenty.

For starters, I had subdued the gang Robin had once been a part of—the Bloody Purse.

Stupid name.

I simply called them Purse, because they were a good purse in every sense of the word. A bunch of cutthroats and thieves, yes, but under my leadership, they were efficient cutthroats and thieves.

Never thought I'd see myself become a gang boss, but here I was.

I glanced at Nika. She had no idea about any of this, and I had no intention of telling her.

As far as she knew, I was simply a mysterious benefactor who somehow always had money.

She had been observant, of course. I saw the way she watched me, how she took note of my habits.

She had questions.

She just hadn't asked them yet.

That was fine.

Moonsong Manor was old, but not in a decrepit way—more like a forgotten treasure, left to gather dust until someone with enough ambition came along to claim it.

That someone, of course, was me.

The place was massive, far too big for just two people, but I had plans for it. It had a strong foundation, thick stone walls, and enough empty rooms to house a small army.

And who knew? Maybe one day, I'd need exactly that.

For now, though, it was just Nika and me.

"This place is huge," Nika muttered, her small voice echoing through the high ceilings of the main hall.

"Yeah," I agreed, stepping forward. My boots clicked against the polished yet dusty marble floor. "Try not to get lost."

She gave me a flat look. "I won't."

I led the way, pushing open the heavy double doors that led deeper into the manor. The hinges creaked, but the doors themselves were sturdy.

The main hall was an open space with a grand staircase leading to the second floor. A massive chandelier hung overhead, though it was coated in dust and cobwebs. Sunlight streamed in from tall stained-glass windows, casting faint patterns on the ground.

"This place looks abandoned," Nika observed.

"It was," I admitted. "Until now."

I had spent a small fortune securing this place, and that wasn't even counting the renovations it needed. The manor had been empty for a while, left behind by some noble family that had either died out or fallen from grace.

It suited me just fine.

I walked forward, gesturing for Nika to follow.

"Come on, let's take a look around."

We moved through the first floor, checking the rooms one by one.

There was a dining hall, complete with a long mahogany table that could seat at least twenty people. The kitchen was old-fashioned but functional, with a brick oven and a pantry big enough to store months' worth of supplies.

We passed through an abandoned study, filled with old bookshelves and a massive fireplace. Dust covered everything, but I could tell this room had been important once.

"I might use this," I mused. "A study could be useful."

Nika just shrugged, looking unimpressed.

She wasn't as interested in the history of the place as I was.

We continued exploring.

There was a ballroom, though it hadn't seen a proper dance in years. A gallery, its walls stripped bare of whatever paintings once hung there. A servants' quarters, long abandoned.

"This place is a maze," Nika muttered as we climbed the stairs to the second floor.

"That's why we're touring it," I said. "Better to learn the layout now than get lost later."

The second floor had bedrooms, each one larger than the last. Most were empty, their furniture covered in white sheets.

One room, however, caught my attention.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Unlike the others, this room was already furnished. There was a large four-poster bed, a writing desk, and even a bookshelf filled with old tomes.

"This one will be mine," I decided.

Nika peeked inside. "Then where am I staying?"

I pointed to the room across the hall. "That one."

She stepped inside her assigned room and glanced around. It was smaller than mine but still luxurious compared to what she was used to. A proper bed, a desk, even a window overlooking the garden.

Nika said nothing, but I saw the way her shoulders relaxed just a little.

She had never had a place like this before.

I leaned against the doorway. "It'll take some time to clean this place up, but once it's done, it'll be livable."

She turned to me. "Why are you doing this?"

"What do you mean?"

She hesitated. "You could have just left me behind. You don't even know me."

I met her gaze. "Robin asked me to take care of you."

"That's not an answer," she said.

I smirked. "No, it's not."

She frowned but didn't push further.

Smart girl.

We finished our tour with a look at the third floor, which was mostly storage space and a few abandoned guest rooms. There was even a hidden attic, though I decided to save exploring that for later.

By the time we were done, the sun had started to set, casting long shadows through the manor's windows.

Nika sighed, rubbing her arms. "This place is kind of creepy at night."

I chuckled. "You'll get used to it."

I wasn't sure if I was talking to her or myself.

I stopped time.

The world froze around me, locking everything into a moment of absolute stillness. Dust hung in the air like suspended stars, and the flickering candlelight from the sconces along the walls remained frozen in place.

With a deep breath, I set to work.

First, I cleaned my bedroom. I threw open the windows, letting the cool evening air disperse the stale scent that had been trapped inside for gods knew how long. The heavy drapes were coated in layers of dust, so I gave them a firm shake before rolling them up and tossing them into a forgotten corner. I wiped down the old furniture, cleared the cobwebs, and arranged the books on the shelves into something resembling order.

Next was Nika's room.

Her room was in a better state than mine, but that didn't mean it was livable yet. I dusted off the furniture, made the bed, and set up the luggage I had arranged for us earlier. There wasn't much in hers—just the bare essentials. A part of me thought I should buy her more, but I held off for now. She wasn't the type to appreciate frivolous gifts.

By the time I was done, our rooms were immaculate—at least compared to how they were before.

I resumed time.

The shift was imperceptible at first, but then I heard it—the faint rustling of the wind through the open window, the distant sound of footsteps from outside the manor, the quiet hum of the world moving forward again.

Nika stared at me, her brows furrowed.

I met her gaze, waiting.

"…How?" she finally asked.

I shrugged. "Does it matter?"

She huffed, crossing her arms. "I knew you were weird, but this is something else."

I smirked.

The days that followed were busy.

I had a plan—a long-term plan—and I needed people to make it work. So, I turned to the most convenient workforce available to me: the Purse gang.

Robin's old gang was in shambles after I took over, but that was expected. Without leadership, they would have torn each other apart, so I gave them direction. I picked out the ones with potential—those who could be reformed—and put them to work.

Some I placed into businesses, using what money I had left to set them up with legitimate jobs. Others I sent to learn trades, giving them an actual chance at life beyond petty crime. The more resistant ones… well, I found other uses for them.

Before I knew it, the entire street was under my control.

Of course, that meant my wallet was suffering for it.

My attempt at painting as a source of income was met with… mixed results.

The painting of Stella Amsten didn't sell. People saw it as ominous, which was ironic considering she was a hero in history. It seemed people preferred to remember her victories rather than the blood-soaked battlefield she stood on.

Still, I didn't give up.

Painting was easy for me. After all, I had worked as a slave in an abusive animation studio before coming here. Compared to those days, painting on my own time—without looming deadlines, screaming managers, or threats to my livelihood—was almost relaxing.

I simply stopped time and painted..

Eventually, I managed to sell two paintings. The price was so-so, nothing extraordinary, but it was better than nothing. It was fortunate, really—this trickle of income helped obscure my real sources of money.

Because, at this point, I was bleeding money.

And I needed a lot more to keep things running.

So, where was my money coming from?

Simple.

The next city over.

Hopkins was a terrible place.

A cesspool of crime, corruption, and greed, where even the banks took advantage of their citizens. It was a city run by the worst kind of people, and its people, in turn, had grown just as rotten.

I had no regrets taking from them.

I was careful about it, of course. No direct theft, no brash robberies. Just a series of well-timed withdrawals, small enough that they wouldn't notice immediately, but consistent enough to keep my finances afloat.

It was cruel for the people living there, but frankly, they were already being bled dry by their own city. What difference did it make if I took a little more?

No regrets.

Not a single one.

Okay, there might be a little bit of regret.

If they didn't do human sacrifice and canibalism ten years from now, I might have hesitated more before I began treating them like a piggy bank.