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doesn’t know their actions are killing a living creature, The System places the responsibility for its death on another, and if the rabzi are completely restrained and murdered by proxy, The System likewise assigns the majority of its Impact elsewhere.

“Of course, by this logic, we’re taking a hit from keeping the rabzi in cages, but allowing them freedom to act would result in all the children dying.”

“I said you were the expert. I didn’t mean that I wanted to be one, too,” Nevair said, her tone sharp.

Kebos bowed low. “My apologies, my lady.”

“Apology accepted,” she said with faint amusement. “I know how you scholarly types tend to get carried away. Your grandfather was much the same.”

Kebos clenched his jaw and bit his tongue.

“Your knowledge and enthusiasm instills me with confidence in you, O’sut. Keep up the good work.” Lady Nevair eyed Nancy one more time before sauntering away.

“Thank you, my lady,” Kebos said, heart pounding in his temples as he continued to bow until he mastered control over his expression. He would never let these people see that they’d gotten to him.

Once he was calm, Kebos cast one last look at the practicing children before turning back to the golden light spilling from his party, which hosted a swath of the wealthiest Citizens in the city—something unheard-of for a man with a background as humble as Kebos.

They wouldn’t breathe the same air as me, Kebos thought as he greeted, flirted and laughed at their awful jokes, were it not for their need of me.

The Stitching of humanity represented an opportunity, and Kebos intended to rise beyond the grandson of a disgraced scholar.

The humans called Impact ‘Experience’, and foolishly believed it was a simple measure of an opponent’s strength. It seemed they already had some kind of rudimentary myths pertaining to it, but the savages didn’t understand how it worked the way the keegan did.

And the keegan didn’t understand Impact the way Kebos did.

If a child has a large amount of time value in their Impact due to the amount of time and potential they have to choose their fate, then how much time value would an immortal child have?

Many thousands of times more than the rabzi that they spent to create them. Many thousands.

Kebos was chatting with the mayor and his wife when one of his underlings tugged on his sleeve. It was a young hornless melas with lighter skin, more pleasing to the pale keegan nobility.

“Apologies, but the work never stops,” Kebos said, excusing himself and stepping away. He dragged the underling off to the side, where the two of them wouldn’t be overheard.

“What?”

“The rabzi in the mountains have…dried up,” the melas said with a wince. “The collectors are charging us full price for a quarter of the rabzi.”

“Define ‘dried up’.”

The melas shrugged, glancing around evasively. “The hunting isn’t so good anymore. There’ve been reports of explosions echoing across the mountain for weeks now, and the hunters tell me they’ve come across hundreds of charred corpses.”

“Probably a young aristocrat flexing a new fire Core,” Kebos said, waving it off. “Their numbers will recover, as always. In the meantime, hire fishermen to catch peruha.”

“That’ll be expensive,” the melas wheedled.

“Focus on keeping the flow of Impact steady first,” Kebos said, poking his underling in the chest. “Expense second. These aren’t the kind of people you shortchange. Now, was there anything else?”

“We’re having trouble finding children to match the specifications of…sixteen of your investors.”

“Sixteen!?” Kebos hissed. “There are thousands of human children in the city alone, hundreds of whom have no guardians at all. Are you telling me that among all that choice, we’re having a hard time finding them?”

“Well, since you took Nevair’s order in, there’s been a bit of a…shift on the streets.”

“Go on,” Kebos said, motioning for the melas to continue.

“A human orphanage has opened out of the old Linnorn manor, run by a human with one leg. It’s managed to take most children of the appropriate age off the streets.”

“One headache after another,” Kebos said, rubbing his temples. “You see a problem, I see an opportunity. With the children all in one place, it’ll be as simple as going to the great bazaar with a shopping list. I’ll handle this myself. Deal with the fishermen.”

“One more thing.” The underling caught Kebos’s sleeve again, earning a baleful glare. “There’s a rumor going around that some of the children are disappearing from the orphanage, and never seen again.”

Kebos’s eyes widened. Someone was reaping children so close to him! Not only was he insulted at being ham-fistedly copied, but more rumors of children disappearing would eventually draw the attention of an enforcer, something Kebos could not afford.

No, perhaps there is a way to deal with this, politically.

Someone needed to take the blame for killing all these children, after all. Why not shove the culpability onto the other reaper? After all, Kebos knew a judge that would be happy to apply legal pressure to someone.

“Who’s running this orphanage?”

Chapter 17: The Academy

***Nancy***

“I don’t like the scar test,” Nancy griped, rubbing the burnt line of skin on the back of her hand.

“I mean, who does, but they numb it up first, so it doesn’t hurt,” Jake said, inspecting the back of his hand, which was perfectly clear of the brand. Jake had been here a full three weeks longer than she had, and he’d gotten used to the strangeness, but it gave Nancy the creeps. She still wasn’t sure if Mr. Surpey was on the up-and-up.

“It hurts after,” she muttered.

“Once your Body gets high enough, it doesn’t hurt for very long,” he responded, flopping over in his bed to look directly at her. “And just think of all the amazing things we can do because Mr. Surpey has been helping

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