We Lease The Kraken! - A LitRPG Pet Shop System Story.

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Sunday, September 25th, 2253 - 9:20 am

Crossroads - Market Street

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The smell of fresh bread hit Jeremiah like a warm wave as they turned onto Market Street. It wrapped around him. Yeasty, sweet, alive with the promise of comfort, and for the first time that morning, something in him unclenched.

The scent grounded him, steadied him, like a firm hand catching his fall just before impact. Only now did he realize how tightly he'd been wound. His shoulders eased. His breath slowed. A flicker of a smile found its way to his lips. Without thinking, his hand slipped into his pocket, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the focus. The smooth chill grounded him further, its presence steady and real beneath his fingertips.

He was going to make it.

The bakery came into view, tucked between a shuttered pharmacy and a sagging antique shop with peeling trim. Its crooked sign creaked gently overhead, the faded lettering still legible: Gjöll Bakery. The windows were fogged from the heat inside, golden light glowing through the glass like a hearth in a winter storm.

Stella didn't hesitate. She threw open the door, and the bell above the threshold rang out — a bright, clear chime, like a bird greeting the morning sun. The sound startled Jeremiah. He didn't remember it ever ringing like that before.

Mani marched in next, chin high and chest out like a returning champion. The bell giving a soft, hollow whistle, like wind whistling through distant sea caves. Strange, but oddly soothing.

Alan followed. The bell answered him with a gong, deep, slow, reverberating like something ancient shifting beneath the earth. It made Jeremiah pause in the doorway and he stared up at the odd, mottled bell: a crooked thing of brass, lead, and iron, fused as if by accident or old magic. His brow furrowed.

But before he could dwell on it, the door behind the counter creaked open, and Ulrick stepped into view.

A bear of a man, Ulrick had his shaggy blond hair tied into a loose knot, and his tree trunk-like arms were dusted with flour. He looked more suited to chopping wood on a mountain ridge than kneading dough, but the warmth in his eyes softened the illusion. His apron was streaked with flour, and he smelled faintly of cinnamon and smoke.

Ulrick's sharp blue eyes swept the children with a slight frown and upturned brow, before then landed on Jeremiah. A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

"Well, now," he rumbled, voice low and rough like a landslide wrapped in velvet. "You lot look like you've had quite the morning."

Jeremiah didn't answer. Instead, he stepped forward, pulled his hand from his pocket, and placed the silver pocket watch on the counter with a soft clink.

Ulrick's brows shot up, and then he grinned.

"Well I'll be," he said. "Back already, are you? I figured it'd take at least a few days at least. Well done, lad."

Ulrick leaned forward, resting both forearms on the counter as he fixed Jeremiah with a curious stare. "I don't suppose you'd care to share how you managed it so fast?" he asked, voice tinged with both amusement and disbelief.

Jeremiah opened his mouth to answer, but Mani jumped in first, nearly vibrating with excitement.

"He broke into the old Kiefer Office building and snuck into the Kindergarten from the roof!" Mani announced, eyes wide with admiration. "You shoulda seen it! He ran over the lift tower like some kinda ninja! It was awesome!"

Ulrick's laugh died halfway through. His expression cracked mid-chuckle — surprise flashing across his face like sunlight splitting through storm clouds. He blinked. Once. Twice. Then slowly turned his gaze back to Jeremiah.

"You what?"

Jeremiah coughed, suddenly finding a distant spot on the bakery wall fasinating. "I, uh… I mean, it seemed like a good idea at the time…"

"Not that part, lad," Ulrick said, straightening slightly. "Are you telling me you broke into the Kindergarten?"

Jeremiah frowned, genuinely confused now. "Wasn't that the point? I mean… the dossier you gave me had all that intel on the base layout. How else was I supposed to read that?"

Ulrick's brow furrowed deeply. "Lad, the folder I gave you only had details on Jonny — where he drinks, who he talks to, the backdoors he favors. Maybe a few floor plans to his favorite haunts, but nothing about the Kindergarten." He shook his head slowly. "I figured you'd try to tail him, catch him off guard, maybe get him drunk and lift the watch. Not raid the bloody Kindergarten."

Jeremiah stared at him, baffled. "Bu… the folder… it had full schematics of the crew base. Guard rotations. Entry points. All that."

Ulrick didn't respond at first. He just muttered, "One moment," and pushed through the back door with a creak. A few moments later, he returned, holding a manila folder and wearing a deeply unsettled expression. He slapped it down on the counter.

Jeremiah stepped forward and opened it. Just as Ulrick said: surveillance photos of Jonny, hand-scribbled notes on his routine, annotated maps of hangouts, dive bars, old warehouses. A sealed envelope labeled To get you in bore the logo of a local nightclub.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Ulrick ran a hand through his hair, visibly rattled. "I don't understand. If you have the one I think you do, that file shouldn't even have been in the same drawer. Hell, I haven't touched it in months. I was certain I gave you the right one…" He shook his head.

Jeremiah kept flipping through the dossier, a numb haze settling over him. His eyes moved, but his thoughts didn't follow. When he finally shut the folder, he just stood there, staring at it like it might suddenly explain itself.

"Look, lad," Ulrick said gently. "I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry. Just… please tell me no one saw your face."

Jeremiah shook his head slowly, still not looking up. "No… I wore a mask."

"They sent patrols, though!" Mani cut in quickly. "We had to sneak his butt outta there!"

"Even Nic was out looking for him!" Stella added, as if it lent the story more weight.

Ulrick's eyes narrowed. "And she let him go?"

Alan gave a slow nod. "She was suspicious at first, but backed off when she found out he was Sarah's brother."

"I think she likes him," Stella added with a giggle.

Ulrick exhaled a long breath and leaned back from the counter. "That's good. Nic's sharp. If she's not pushing, chances are no one else will, either."

He turned to Jeremiah. "Look lad. You shouldn't have been put in this situation. I'll make some calls and ensure no one—"

Jeremiah raised a hand, took a deep breath, and exhaled. He shook his head. "Its… fine. What's done is done. What matters is I got what you asked for. Can you still keep your end of the deal?"

Ulrick nodded solemnly. "Give me a moment and I'll give her a call."

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Thirty minutes later, Ulrick placed another platter of warm pastries onto the table where the Grim kids were perched, adding to the two already emptied down to crumbs and smears of jam. The trio chorused their thanks before diving back into the sugar-sticky heap with the glee of pirates at a treasure hoard.

Jeremiah sat at the adjacent table, nursing a coffee that had gone lukewarm, half-finished pastry in hand. He wasn't that hungry, but there was no denying it was good. For all Ulrick's rough edges, the man could bake. Of that, there was no question.

The quiet moment of peace was doing wonders for Jeremiah's mood after such a chaotic morning. More so knowing it was only a short while longer before his mission would be complete.

The moment was shattered by a chime from the front door — a delicate, silvery tone, like wind chimes struck by starlight.

Every head turned.

In the doorway stood a short figure, draped in a hooded jacket too big for her frame. Four slender arms peeked out from the folds, two crossed over her chest, the others tucked deep into her pockets. The light from the bakery's hearth cast her face into shadow, but it was hard for Jeremiah to mistake Amani for anyone else.

She stood there wordless, still as a stone, her gaze scanning the room, drifting to each of them in turn.

Ulrick approached her with a wide, affable grin and flour still dusting his sleeves.

"Ah! There you are. Seems our mutual friend moves quicker than expected."

Amani didn't reply. Her hood shifted slightly as her eyes settled on the Grim kids with a quiet intensity.

Ulrick followed her gaze and let out a quiet, awkward cough. "Ah… right."

He turned back toward the table. "Kids," he said gently, "I appreciate everything you've done for Jeremiah, really. But we've got some grown-up business to handle now. Think you can head home for a bit?"

Mani let out a dramatic groan and threw both arms in the air. "Seriously? Just when it's getting interesting? That's—"

His protest was abruptly cut short by Alan, who clamped a hand firmly over his brother's mouth. With an apologetic smile, he nodded to Ulrick.

"No problem. We get it." He stood, hoisting Mani under one arm like a sack of laundry.

Stella slid off her chair, brushing crumbs from her skirt before waving cheerfully. "Bye, Jeremiah! Bye, uncle Ulrick! Bye mysterious stranger we're not supposed to know about!" she sang, skipping out behind her brothers.

The bell chimed again as the door swung shut behind them.

Only then did Amani step fully into the room, lifting her head slightly as she turned to Ulrick.

"Sorry about those three," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "They're good kids. You won't have to worry about them talking. I give you my word."

Amani sighed and lowered her hood at last.

Even though Jeremiah had seen her before, the sight still struck him with the same quiet awe. It wasn't just the spiraling horns that arched like a crown of bone around her head, nor the smooth, pale blue skin that shimmered faintly in the warm bakery light. That alone might wasn't so uncommon in a place like Nexus, where realities collided. But there was a vitality to her, something calm and whole.

Her face still bore the softness of youth, but there was gravity behind her features, a weariness that made guessing her age feel pointless. If she'd been human, Jeremiah might have said sixteen or seventeen. But she wasn't. Djinn didn't age the same, and it was hard to tell just how old she really was.

No, what stopped him cold were her eyes. Two silver irises against an inky black backdrop, speckled with dancing lights, like dual moons hanging in the night sky.

Two silvery moons, twin irises drifting in a sea of velvet black, lit from within by glimmering pinpricks of light. Like starlight scattered across a night sky. Beautiful. Haunting. Not entirely of this world.

Those twin moons narrowed now as she turned to him, her frown subtle but sharp.

"So… you actually pulled it off, huh?" Her voice was quiet, lilting, musical, even, but there was a blade beneath it, cold and sharp, that spoke of a lifetime not quite trusting anyone but herself.

Jeremiah gave a single nod.

Without another word, she followed Ulrick as he walked back behind the counter and knelt to retrieve something from a shelf below. He returned with a small, worn box, wooden, oiled smooth with age and handling.

Amani inhaled sharply.

Her hands trembled as she reached forward and eased open the lid.

Inside sat the silver pocket watch. Polished to a gentle gleam, it looked almost reverent, like a relic. Amani reached out and touched it, one fingertip brushing the surface with delicate reverence.

She exhaled. Her shoulders fell. The tension that had radiated off her since stepping through the door seemed to bleed out into the quiet between them.

"It's the real thing," she whispered.

Ulrick nodded, his voice softer now. "Glad to hear it. As agreed, I'll see it's kept safe. You've nothing more to worry about." He closed the lid with a click and replaced it below the counter.

Amani nodded in return. "Thank you, Ulrick. I owe you more than I can ever repay."

Ulrick let out a bark of laughter and waved her off. "Bah! Think nothing of it. It's no more than I already owe you." His eyes slid toward Jeremiah. "Though I reckon there's someone else here you might want to thank."

Amani flinched, almost imperceptibly. She hesitated, then turned.

Her gaze moved over Jeremiah like a weight. Measuring. Testing.

"I suppose you're right…"

She stepped forward until only a few feet separated them.

Jeremiah quirked a brow. "While I appreciate the sentiment, I'd rather you held up your end of the deal. Ulrick said you could get me a shop? How, exactly?"

Ulrick chuckled behind the counter.

Amani's lips curled into a faint smirk, but her eyes never left him. Then something in her gaze shifted. Sharpened.

Jeremiah tensed.

Her eyes caught the light, and for a moment they did glow — faint and lunar, like celestial fire stirred to life. A stillness settled over the room, sudden and profound, as if the air itself dared not move.

When she spoke, it wasn't just her voice — it was a resonance, a vibration that echoed not in the room but inside him, deep and ancient.

"To ye who has returned my soul. Ye to whom I owe my debt," she intoned, her voice layered with something far older than her youthful face. "Speak your heart's desire… and I shall grant your wish."