Limitless Evolution As a Snake

The collection boss had hired extra guards for the transfer, but none of them expected the charity mascot to arrive demanding overdue wages.

Cherry wore the ridiculous snake costume with enough confidence to make the performance look intentional. She stopped the crew at the public freight gate while Lyra stood beside her carrying the event’s genuine unpaid performer complaint, which the actual mascot had sent after I contacted him.

He wanted his money. We wanted several other people’s money, and I appreciated a plan that let everyone pursue their own interests without pretending we shared a noble calling.

Bridget watched from the upper pedestrian walkway, using her ordinary wings and the new ether support to cross the gap above the loading lane. I moved below the marked payment crate on its raised transfer cradle, hidden by the vehicle’s wide side panel.

[System: Family teamwork, mate. One lass doing paperwork, one doing fancy flight and one dressed like your cheap cousin while you crawl under a truck looking for pocket money.]

I thought you could sound more proud considering the quality of the people willing to be seen with me.

The crate’s center came within three meters when the cradle lowered for inspection. I had a clear view through the service gap and enough empty ground beside my coils for the full object to arrive.

Mine Now moved it off the cradle. Its weight landed on the flat loading pad, and I immediately slid clear instead of letting eighty thousand in possible earnings become a treatment plan for my tail.

The missing load changed the cradle’s balance. Its alarm sounded, the side panel lifted and a guard looked down at me with the expression of a man finding a burglar where the manufacturer had promised an empty maintenance space.

I told him the shipment had developed a snake problem. He reached for his weapon, which suggested he already understood the diagnosis and wanted to discuss treatment.

Bridget stopped the bolt after it left his launcher. I moved before the two-second pause ended, and the resumed shot struck the loading pad where my head had been.

Cherry abandoned the complaint and pulled the mascot head off, startling the guard who had spent the previous minute trying to argue with a fake version of me. She used the costume’s large foam face as a thrown distraction, then moved toward the crate with Lyra.

Their theft timers were ready. Lyra shifted the crate to the clear lane beside the waiting cargo trolley, where Cherry engaged the trolley’s cradle rather than trying to carry the full weight herself.

The guards followed on foot, which Red Light couldn’t politely pause. I met the first one low, wrapped his ankle and pulled him into the padded side of the transfer station while his companion tried to find an angle around us.

The second guard swung a metal baton. I moved too late to avoid it entirely, taking the edge across my already sore side and feeling a hot burst of anger that had very little to do with public safety.

I caught his wrist with a solid tendril, dragged him into reach and held his face close enough to my teeth that the next swing stopped being his preferred option.

”You could let go of the stick, mate, or I could help you discover how many fingers your retirement plan actually required.”

He let go. I threw the baton into the empty freight cage beside the station and shoved both men after it, then pulled the cage’s powered gate closed using the exterior control.

That stopped two immediate pursuers. It didn’t defeat the whole crew, so Bridget dropped from the walkway to warn that another vehicle was coming around the loading lane with the collection boss inside.

He saw the crate on our trolley and accelerated. Cherry caught the vehicle in her own Red Light area, stopping it for two seconds while its occupants lurched against their restraints.

Lyra moved the empty metal loading barrier into the space touching her hand across the lane, then stepped clear. When the vehicle resumed, its driver braked rather than ram the solid obstacle, leaving the boss shouting at a windscreen full of consequences.

We loaded the crate onto our hired cart and left through the opposite gate. Lukas drove the already cleared route while the armed crew remained blocked behind a secured freight barrier and their own damaged sense of authority.

At the guarded district entrance, the collection boss couldn’t simply wave a weapon and continue. The guards there had seen his vehicle attack on their cameras, and his attempt to explain that family money justified it only lengthened the conversation.

We took the crate to the club’s locked service room. The family withdrawal objective completed after the crew’s immediate pursuit had stopped and the marked chest was out of their route.

Ten thousand EXP raised me to sixty-two thousand five hundred, crossing the sixty-thousand target. Fifty IP brought me to three hundred and ten, and the evolution notice appeared before I had even opened the crate.

[System: There we go, champ. Robbed your uncle, kept the girls intact and earned another body upgrade. That’s a productive breakfast by any reasonable criminal standard.]

Inside the chest, the actual counted bundles totaled eighty thousand. I put forty thousand into my private funds, twenty thousand into the club reserve and twenty thousand into a separate shared fund the girls could use without asking me for permission.

That left fifty thousand six hundred and eighty privately, twenty-four thousand in the club reserve and a great deal of satisfaction I expected my uncle to share very badly.

His reaction arrived through the seized crate’s attached dispatch receiver, still playing its open crew channel. Hansen ordered the collection outfit to stand down, then told someone to send Horass instead.

I looked at the ready evolution notice while the receiver went quiet, suddenly much more interested in upgrading before I found out what sort of person made my uncle stop complaining about money.