The Glorious Evolution

Two Days Later...

”Elder Zen... eleven networks are carrying this feed, and most of the people watching it have a Zen spiritually enhanced artifact thrown somewhere in their house.”

The anchor for Provincial Eight Channel was a slim fish woman with blue skin, a flat face, and thin gills in place of ears.

She continued speaking with a perfect, professional cadence.

”They want to know whether it’s safe to use or not after your family’s reputation was cleared.”

Brahmin took a deep breath to answer the question, which was the main goal of this entire setup... right now, hundreds of Runehoof Kin were gathered around House Targon’s massive estate while Brahmin and the news anchors stood tens of meters away from the front gate.

Two days were all it took for the Court to rule in their favor after its audit recovered every single hidden or deleted record.

Without an ounce of delay, the Court transferred the deeds to House Targon’s territories and assets, along with 70% of their bank accounts, to House Zen as a settlement for the horrors of four decades.

The remaining 30% went to the Court and the Administration as taxes... Brahmin didn’t complain one bit, as he never cared about any of this in the first place, which was why he had accepted in a heartbeat to sign everything over to Levi once they won the case.

Even when the total settlement was worth tens of millions, Brahmin’s heart remained void of greed... his Dharma was that strong.

In the same breath, Silas and his family had not seen the light of day ever since they stepped inside the Jailor’s mouth.

The Courts had absolutely zero tolerance for criminals on their soil... of course, the ones caught red-handed.

After the verdict was published, Levi told him to take advantage of the publicity to host a live-streamed party for the demolition of House Targon’s estate to attract attention and then continue clearing their reputation.

Levi knew the public loved nothing more than seeing Nobles fall... especially the bad ones.

Brahmin manifested a dimensional screen, showing the certified copies of what had happened to their ’faulty’ products.

”Our reinforcement cores came through a subcontractor... House Targon bribed that subcontractor for thirty-eight years to deliver us hollow ones. The substitution is in Targon’s own ledgers, dated and invoiced... the failures were manufactured, and so were most of the complaints filed about them.”

Another News Anchor stepped in and asked solemnly, ”Does this mean one of your own sold you out?”

Brahmin went silent for a moment; the face of the traitor surfaced in his mind... it was his own dear brother, whose Dharma had started to falter the moment Brahmin became the family’s head instead of him.

Brahmin had always known that his brother’s heart was no longer in the right place, as he had become consumed by desires... he tried to help him return to the rightful path, but alas... despite still placing his trust in him, his brother didn’t hesitate to sell his entire race to House Targon for a life of riches and pleasures.

Yet, Brahmin didn’t badmouth his brother in public.

”He might have sold us... but it is still my responsibility, and I apologize dearly to every customer harmed by the few faulty products.”

Seeing Brahmin bow sincerely, the News Anchors and live viewers were left stunned for a moment... this wasn’t the reaction they expected at all, knowing that shifting blame was a cultural phenomenon in the realm.

”Then, how about the compensation?” the anchor asked, frowning. ”You have grounds to recover every credit House Zen paid out in settlements from every customer who came to you claiming a faulty artifact... The Elementary Court would grant it in no time.”

”We will file nothing.” Brahmin shook his head.

A murmur went through the anchor’s crowd and across eleven feeds at once.

”Those families paid us for protection, and we handed them a faulty artifact with our seal stamped on it. What happened after that is our responsibility to carry.”

Brahmin looked into the floating eye-like camera rather than at the anchor and continued.

”It is forgiven, all of it... when we reopen a new store, anyone harmed by a Zen artifact may walk in and take a spiritually enhanced piece from our shelves at no cost... this promise carries no expiry.”

The moment he finished, the live commentary went wild with reactions.

-Now that is accountability... House Zen is putting the victims before its own losses!-

-I deeply apologize for all the hate I took part in throwing at House Zen... the Targonian fuckers played me.-

-How I wish all nobles acted with such grace as Zens... Brahmin is the GOAT!-

The News Anchors read their own feeds and reacted based on the collective emotion of their viewers... at the moment, the majority supported House Zen.

”Elder Zen, I suggest you prepare enough stock for a flood of customers.”

The News Anchor made a light joke to establish rapport before getting into the real reason many of them were here... it wasn’t Zen’s reputation or their artifacts, not even close.

”Such a redemption story brings us to the question many tuned in for...” The reporter held his breath and said, ”Two days. House Targon has stood for a long time and even has a County behind them... Yet, it fell in two days.”

Another Reporter stole the question line and continued the flow.

”A case moves that fast on one condition... and that is evidence so complete the bench has nothing left to weigh. Yet, it is known that every member of a Noble Family signs a binding contract to protect their secrets.”

”So... our question is, how did you achieve such an unprecedented feat without the backing of a Patron?”

All reporters and viewers leaned in closer, their ears perked up in intrigue... even many Noble Houses across the Eight Sky Province tuned in for a chance to learn their secret sauce, which might prove very helpful against their opposing factions.

Brahmin smiled at the camera.

”We had help... a benevolent savior.” He paused for a moment and then shared, ”Mr. Problem.”

”Mr. Problem?” The reporters frowned and glanced at each other. ”I don’t believe we have any record of that name.”

”Few do, I assume... he is a very private person.” Brahmin smiled.

”Then how about the price?” The reporter recovered fast. ”A House in your position, a service like that at such a crucial time... it must have cost you a lot.”

Brahmin shook his head.

”He asked us for nothing that went against our Dharma... For the Runehoof Kin, every other price is cheap.”

The Province’s citizens understood him in a heartbeat after finding out about their story from the published Court documents... Many parties had come to House Zen to offer rescue.

Yet, every one of them had wanted patronage on stricter terms that would force them to fight sooner or later once the time came.

”Mr. Problem left us our territory, our name, our dignity, and our Dharma... for that, we are forever grateful.”

Hearing this, many viewers requested Mr. Problem’s contact number to hire him for their own problems... in their eyes, if he was able to help an entire Noble House survive deportation at the last moment without taking advantage of them... then he might be able to help them too at a reasonable price.

”Elder Zen, I have been asked to request a contact... There are Noble Houses across the Boundless Expanse sitting exactly where you were, and they would like to reach him.”

Brahmin shook his head apologetically.

”You do not reach Mr. Problem... he reaches out to you.”

As these words were still crossing the network, the sky over the estate suddenly lit up.

The first firework went up and exploded into the shape of a Runehoof horn... then the rest followed, one hundred of them, one for every year House Zen had held their land and would continue to do so.

As the reporters’ and viewers’ attention was stolen by the fireworks show, House Targon’s estate began to shake nonstop...

The towers came down first, and then the halls where the family council had eaten its dinners... not even the fortified hidden round table was spared.

Everything was dismantled under the eyes of thousands of Runehoofs... watching as their oppressors’ legacy was erased. Yet, most of them didn’t even cheer.

Instead, they lowered their heads and prayed for their souls and hearts to be freed from the heinous desires that had made them stray from the path of good.

As this mesmerizing scene was streamed live across the Eight Sky Province, Levi sat in the shopkeeper’s chair of Zen Relic Store... his hands resting behind his head, facing a dimensional screen showing the same stream.

”Congratulations,” the Titan chuckled. ”You have a reputation now as a Problem Solver.”

Levi remained silent, reading the millions of comments flooding the channel chats... the majority of them shared a single theme.

Mr. Problem.

A name so stupid and childish that anyone hearing it for the first time would scoff... but after witnessing the destruction of House Targon’s estate with their own eyes, none of them would ever mock that name again.

”Well, that’s the goal,” Levi smirked faintly as he glanced at another dimensional screen on the left side.

Only this one showed the Black Slime Syndicate Board and an already written sentence...

-Got a problem that needs to be solved? Better call Mr. Problem... Dimensional Line: MP-003.-

Levi reached out with his finger and pressed send.

”It never hurts to have a side hustle...”