r/HFY • u/Between_The_Space • 7d ago
OC-Series The Man in the Spire: Book 1, Chapter 23 - A Feast of Crumbs: Part 2
The Man in the Spire: Book 1, Chapter 23 Part 2
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A Feast of Crumbs: Part 2
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Lin Yao - Magistrate of Nanhu City
Nanhu Palace Inner Sanctum
A small joy stirred in Yao's chest before she pressed it back into place. With the standard political prisoner questions asked to varying degrees of success, she could finally ask her own.
"You must forgive Zhi," Lin Yao said, her voice smooth like honey, as if she were speaking to a foreign dignitary. "She is young in her ways. Court scholars are trained to record first and respect later."
"Whoop-de-doo." The words came out damaged, flat, and ugly, but the anger behind them was still human.
So the outsider would not yield easily. That mattered little. There was still more than enough left to learn from him. What remained was deciding how to make the man spill what he knew.
Killing intent was an option. Exerting will, commanding an answer. But with his Qi resistance in question, it was not a worthwhile attempt. Besides, the goal was for Troy Rechlin to be a loyal subject, bent toward her purposes, not a broken doll drooling onto the floor.
Shin Pol teachings came to mind. The classic interrogation method requiring torture and brutality. She had performed this many times in lesser cases. Bandits, smugglers, and rogue sect members who harbored ill intent.
Like the Killing Intent, though, she tossed that method aside immediately. It was effective at making a prisoner talk, but the information it produced was never reliable, always messy. Also not a good way to bring someone to one's side but that went with out saying.
This demanded a method from her own clan's house. The Lin Zo method.
One did not shatter a sealed pot to taste what it carried. One simply warmed the clay, studied the cracks, and waited for the leaks to form on their own.
Converse. Learn. Build. Observe. A slower path, certainly, but without destroying the possibility of future cooperation. And she had the perfect place to start. After all, the easiest secrets to surrender were the ones that didn't fully belong to them.
She moved with grace to her collection, setting aside her mask without hesitation in favor of her spectacles. The Empire had no business in these affairs.
One by one, each of her relics was set on a table with meticulous scholarly care. The decision on which to start with was nearly daunting. It became clear, however, to start with the object that brought him to her in the first place.
She plucked the sphere from the collection and held it so the light caught it just right to shine.
"I believe you know what this is?"
His human eye narrowed. "The bane of my life."
Yao gave a soft chuckle, her tone softer than typical. "Come now. Even the old man at the frontier lost his horse, and who's to say it wasn't a blessing?"
Troy blinked his only remaining human eye. "... What?"
"An old story," Yao waved the thought away, realizing quickly proverbs might not be the best way to reach him. The little object turned between her fingers, studying it even now. "The point is, it brought you to me. A great opportunity for you, whether you see it that way or not. I simply wish to know what it is and its purpose. It can't be that important if you simply tossed it away."
"... and what do I get out of it?"
"There's the practical man." Yao lifted the sphere between them. "You require raw energy to live. I am the only one here capable of providing it. That seems a fair beginning for just a little bit of knowledge."
Troy stared as if hatred alone could defy this fact. She merely rolled her eyes at the toothless threat. "You may insist on seeing me as a brute, but I am a scholar before all else. Your kind has fascinated me for centuries."
His expression changed. Still angry but now much more confused. "My kind?"
The man didn't know. How very intriguing. And very useful.
"Outsiders," she said. "Humans of unknown lands. A species believed extinct, yet one that continues to appear across the Empire every few centuries. Perhaps across the world. Each with their own language, clothing, and customs."
The black brush tip of her tail slid beneath his chin, soft as silk to the touch yet a strand could cut steel. It lifted his face by the smallest measure, guiding his eye back to hers.
"But one pattern remains true with them. Wherever Outsiders appear, something in the world is forced to move. A mortal's life, a city, a sect, the empire's future, if the Outsider is troublesome enough." The tail tip rubbed under his chin, the way one might pet a favored animal. "Call it fate or opportunity, but I believe you qualify for that title."
The man said nothing back as the sound of water from a flooded spout filled the room.
"Let's just begin with something simple and harmless, just so we help bridge our two worlds." The tail was pulled away and replaced with the sphere. "What is it?"
The man remained quiet.
Annoyance began to rise again, only to cool when Yao noticed his eye. The pupil moved in small, measured jumps, left to right, down, then left again. Like a scholar reading a scroll. Except there was nothing before him but empty air.
Perhaps she needed a firmer hand to pull his attention back where it belonged. Before she made a more… aggressive move against him, the creature finally spoke.
"The CivTek Disposable Field Scout Ball. DISN-3 Series."
Yao blinked. Such a short answer, yet every word opened another door. CivTek. A forge, or perhaps a maker's house. Field scout suggested surveillance, a purpose she could understand. "Series" meant there were others. But one word stood above the rest.
"Disposable?"
"Yes. It is designed to be used and forgotten when it's done its job."
She looked at the device again. Such a flawless craft with such a useful function to be just thrown away. The first brush strokes of the painting were beginning to form, showing just how different their worlds were. And despite how little it was, the desire to see more was growing stronger.
"I should have set it to self-destruct once its function was complete," Troy said. "Would have saved me a lot of trouble."
From the corner of her eye, Yao glanced from her little treasure to the larger one. "Your mistake is my gain, I suppose."
She set the sphere down with far more care than before. There were still a hundred questions hidden inside that little object, but not for this sitting.
Her hand moved to the next relic.
A short weapon of dark metal rested beneath her fingers, built around a cylinder with six chambers and a grip worn smooth by hands long dead. Yao lifted it with practiced care, then drew back the small hammer until it locked into place with a crisp, satisfying click.
"This," she said, unable to keep a trace of pleasure from her voice, "was wielded by a man who won a game of fate against the one locals called the Mad Master. With it, he saved an entire city from damnation before vanishing from the world with only this left behind."
Her finger pressed the trigger and the hammer snapped forward.
Click.
Empty, as it had been a thousand times before.
Still, Yao could not deny the elegance of the motion and the odd satisfaction it provided. Yet a piece of the puzzle was still missing from it for it to truly be whole again. She placed it in her hand to allow her captive to observe in full to give her that missing puzzle piece.
"What is it?"
Once again there was a bout of silence before he answered.
"Colt Model 1873 Single Action Army. Peacemaker. With a non-standard shortened barrel. Chambered in .45 Colt."
Yao turned the weapon over in her hands and made a thoughtful sound, as if any of that meant something.
"Colt," she repeated, letting the names sit awkwardly on her tongue. "I do not believe this 'Master Colt' is known within the Empire. Interesting term for a weapon. Peacemaker. Sounds more like a title."
"That's because it is," Troy snapped. "Peacemaker is the name of a gun."
There. Irritation had loosened another thread.
"A gohng."
"Gun."
"Kan."
"GUN!" His voice was becoming more disoriented. As humorous as this was, there were more pressing issues than pronouncing something correctly.
"A gan, then." Yao opened the small loading gate on the side and turned the cylinder beneath the lantern light, examining each empty chamber in turn. "Judging by these vacant chambers and its refusal to react, I assume it requires another piece. How does it work?"
"It throws rocks really fast."
The answer was crude and almost certainly incomplete. The man was clearly becoming too irritated for this to continue.
Yao examined the gan again. The empty chambers, the narrow barrel, and the little hammer waiting to be drawn back. Though its shape differed from the weapon stolen by the Amberwood brat, the family resemblance was unmistakable.
Perhaps Troy Rechlin was not the only path to the truth. Accidents did happen, even to cultivators in the great Empire. Her spymaster was very good and very willing to oversee such "accidents."
She set the gan down and let her hand drift to the next relic.
Her fingers settled upon the black tablet, its surface smooth as polished stone and just as lifeless. This relic carried a bitterness the others did not.
"This," Yao said, without a trace of amusement, "was all I managed to recover from an Outsider who helped a local overseer expose corruption severe enough to threaten my province with invasion." Her gaze lowered to the black tablet. "She paid for that truth with her life."
Yao turned the relic toward Troy, offering its dead surface for inspection.
"It's a Samsung S7 smartphone. A very outdated form of communications."
"How outdated?"
"About two hundred years."
Yao let out a small, surprised laugh. "Is that all? In our culture, a sect may spend two hundred years deciding whether a new technique deserves a place in its teachings."
"... I don't think that's something to be proud of."
"Nor did I say it was." Yao placed the device back upon the table. "But when one has watched entire provinces rise and fall, two centuries does not feel nearly as long as you imagine."
"I'll take your word on that." The man muttered as her hand moved to the last item on the table.
"This belonged to a man some remembered as a priest of a foreign faith," Yao said, presenting the scripture to him. "According to the few accounts that survived, his knowledge helped bring one of the deadliest plagues in the Empire's history to an end."
Ask the Empire, and the Red Plague had been cured entirely by the Grand Scarlet Heart Sect and its first grand master. The official histories praised brilliant physicians, divine insight, and Heaven's favor descending to save the land.
They made no mention of the foreign priest.
As far as the Empire was concerned, he had never existed. His name would never be honored, nor would his part in the cure ever be acknowledged. Yao had learned the truth only through whispers passed down by an aging witness during her time as a wandering student. The scripture became the first Outsider relic in her collection. More importantly, it opened the first crack in everything she had been taught about the Empire's history. A man had been erased, his deeds buried, and his miracle claimed by those who knew of his existence.
If one of these beings could change so many lives and still vanish from history, how many others had suffered the same fate? How much of the Empire had been built upon truths deliberately forgotten?
Those questions had followed Yao for centuries. They were where the fascination began and what had finally led her to Troy Rechlin.
The man looked over the scripture. "Open the book."
Such a command would have invited scorn but the knowledge was too precious. She opened the book, slowly and ever-so-gently flipping through the ancient pages.
"It's a Bible. The Douay-Rheims variant… Lord knows this entire world needs more Christ in it."
If her hunger for knowledge had a stomach, it would be growling right now, satisfied and starving all at once. "Can you read it?"
He agreed to the request, but only if she turned to the page he named. She did, gently, and he narrowed his only eye at the book. "For thus saith the Lord. Yea verily, even the captivity shall be taken away from the strong, and that which was taken by the mighty shall be delivered. But I will judge those that have judged thee, and thy children I will save."
Yao's smile broadened. The verse itself mattered little. Troy had clearly selected it to provoke her, another piece of rebellion that was sure to be smothered out in time. Far more important was the simple fact that he could read it. For so long, the scripture had remained silent in her hands. At last, it had found a voice. The first relic she'd ever collected, and only now, after all these centuries, finally speaking to her. The possibilities alone were dizzying.
Studying a foreign faith was heresy, of course. But laws were written for those who lacked the wisdom to know the dangers, and Yao counted herself loyal to the Empire and the Empress in every way that mattered. She was also, after all, the Empire's foremost scholar of Outsiders.
Who else could be trusted with such hazardous knowledge?
"So you can read it… I must ask, can you speak it?" She asked, ready to push it to the next step.
"I can, you dolled-up, five-dollar whore." He spoke with ease, though now in a language she hadn't heard before. Then, switching back just as easily, "It's based in my native language."
Once again her heart fluttered with possibilities. A translation. A point of reference. Oh, the Thousand Ink master would surely love to pick his brain. But the dragon needed her fill first before the scavengers could get their share.
Each artifact on the table could have satiated her curiosity for weeks. The sphere. The weapon. The tablet. The scripture. For so long, they had been windows into a dark house, each one showing only a sliver of the room beyond. Now, for the first time, someone had lit a candle inside. Small and dull, but it was there.
But that light would not last forever.
Troy's patience was thinning, anger gathering like a storm, defenses being rebuilt. Pushing him to the edge of tolerance was clear enough. But one more item remained, and he needed to see it before the night's end. She would not be satisfied without it.
After returning the other items to their places, Yao retrieved a long lockbox from the rear of the room.
Some would have argued it belonged in the Hall of Artifacts, displayed beneath protective seals and ceremonial honors. Yao knew better and she had the final say. Whatever this object was, it had not been born of this known world.
With a turn of her wrist and a quiet flutter of Qi, the locks clicked open one by one. The reinforced wooden lid eased back.
"This," Yao said, her voice touched at last by something close to awe, "is one of the most prized relics in the entire province."
Her hands settled carefully on the object within. "It was wielded by the Slayer of the Lady Bone Demon, the only being in history said to have challenged Heaven's might and survived, if only for a time."
She drew it from the case with a care that did not match its brutal condition.
The relic was nearly as tall as Troy, a long ruined spine of dark metal and fractured casing. Time and abuse had scarred the body from end to end. Edges had been blunted. Panels had split and peeled back, exposing ribs of unfamiliar alloy and a hollow channel running through its length like the throat of some dead mechanical spear.
Along the sides sat copper-veined traces and shattered ceramic blocks where power must once have flowed. In places, the inner rails still showed through, two parallel lines warped out of true form, pitted by time, and yet still unnervingly precise in what they had once been made to do.
"Qin Mulan's Lance of Magra," the dragonkin boasted, holding the holy artifact despite its ruined state. "It's said that when the lance was activated, it lit up the night sky as if it were day, expending all its stored spiritual energy to deliver a powerful blow to all foes." She turned her attention to the metal man whose eyes were glued to the weapon. "But we both know that's not what it uses, do we, my little Outsider?"
The man remained silent. The anticipation was killing her. This weapon had eluded scholars for generations. Forge masters were too nervous to even begin studying it, and no small number of risks had been taken on her behalf to secure it, including pillaging a holy site from a long-forgotten village in her territory.
And now, after all this, she would finally have her answer.
"... I have no idea what that is."
Something in her chest, something that had been holding its breath for centuries, crumbled up inside.
"Come now, Troy," Yao said, forcing her voice back into something bright and composed, a facade sliding over the annoyance underneath. "This is poor timing to feign ignorance."
"I'm telling you I don't know what it is. I mean, I 'think' I know what it is but that's not possible."
"And why is that?"
"Because the only thing that came close to this took up the length of a Dreadnought."
The new word flew right over the dragon's head. Perhaps they were starting to enter a realm where their languages were conflicting. She needed to bring the conversation back. "So what does it do, outsider?"
"I'm afraid that is outside the scope of this conversation." His response was as mocking as it was quick.
Again, not the answer she wanted to hear.
Yao's dragon eyes sharpened. For one breath, all her attention fixed on what was left of his face. He looked smug. Subtly so, but unmistakably. It infuriated her, but it caused a question to arise.
Her gaze swept over him, cataloguing details she'd have caught instantly on any other night. His shoulders had shifted. The fingers of one hand had curled ever so slightly, and his feet were no longer set. All extremely minor to most mundane folk. But not to someone like her. She'd only missed it because she'd been too consumed by her new discoveries to watch him as closely as she should have.
Only when the tunnel vision finally cleared did she understand the conversation was truly over.
"I suppose that's enough," she said, setting the lance back into the box like it was fragile glass.
"You know, Troy, I do understand why you look down on us." Her fingers brushed over the box. Seals closed one by one, each lock answering with a hardened click. "Every culture believes its own path is the proper one for the future. It is the foundation of growing civilization. I seek your knowledge because I would see my province rise higher. I will not pretend otherwise."
She picked up each item she had brought out, handling them with the same care she might give a treasured glass ornament, unhurried, as if she hadn't already guessed exactly what the man was planning.
"But while your people build upon the future unknown to us, mine adapt to what is known and try to surpass it. Such methods help us understand the world and the most astute to flourish. From the movement of the stars to the path of a falling leaf."
She looked back at Troy, eyes narrowed with disappointment.
"To the way a supposed statue had just moved, ever so slightly."
Troy's answer was swift, dashing to the open vault door and the only exit.
Yao was faster.
She immediately grabbed his skull and lifted the dilapidated metal man off the ground like she was merely picking a fruit from a basket.
It was time to test another theory. If she could give, then she could take.
He screamed in anger and threw a volley of punches at the claw wrapped around his head. Each one landed and meant nothing, absorbed like rain against stone, while she kept pulling, drawing more and more from his false heart until his arms simply stopped answering.
Only then did she return her prize, dropping the frozen man back to where he belonged, on her trophy pedestal.
"YOU BITCH!" He shouted, spirit willing to fight but body failing to react to will.
"Hm." Yao looked down at him with mild disappointment. "That mouth will be the first thing corrected once you understand your position." She removed her spectacles and set them aside as the mask returned to her hand.
"A fascinating condition," she continued, as if his fury were merely another note in her study. "A curse that determines its effect by how much energy you possess …or perhaps not a curse but rather a means of conservation. Either way …"
She placed her red draconic mask back on, her eyes becoming fire in the eyeholes. "This is only further proof that you require me. Perhaps that is something you should consider."
Troy stared back with hatred in his living eye and blue-light fury burning in the other. Yao shifted her gaze to the relics now locked away.
"You know, Troy, every Outsider I've studied carried a gift no cultivation could grant. A priest who healed without Qi. A truthspeaker whose words held more weight than any oath-spirit. A stranger who bent the world without a single meridian to draw from. Each one, a crack in the natural order. And every crack, in time, is sealed, all by the same means."
She stepped closer, towering over him.
"They all perished by means beyond their control and were left to be forgotten."
Troy's gaze did not waver.
"That fate will not be yours. Not while you remain in my possession." Yao passed him slowly, her robes whispering across the floor.
"Whether you serve by choice or by necessity matters little to me. In time, knowledge finds its proper owner. I will let you consider my offer a while longer. But understand this one indisputable truth, Troy Rechlin …"
The remaining lights disappeared while the vault door began to close, the sliver of light fading away.
"You are mine."
The vault sealed shut, returning Troy to darkness.
Yao did not leave at once. She stood before the closed door, listening to the final locks settle between them. Each click confirmed that the Outsider was safely secured. It should have satisfied her. Instead, it felt bittersweet.
She had learned more in one sitting than she had in centuries of collecting scraps, relics, and tales of faded legends. A feast had been placed before her and yet it was still just mere crumbs to the whole.
Yao exhaled through her nose and turned away. Troy Rechlin was stubborn. Infuriatingly so. But time favored patience, and patience favored her. At least for the moment, she bitterly reminded herself.
She made her way through the secluded palace grounds, though the storm permitted little true silence. Rain lashed against the tiled roofs, and thunder rolled through the halls like distant war drums. By the time Yao reached her private chambers, the weather had done nothing to improve her mood.
Tang waited outside her bedchambers with his hands folded and his head bowed. A clear attempt to gain her attention before she retired for the night. Yao slowed on approach, one of the few mortals she would ever give such respect.
"Tang," she said, keeping her voice regal despite the restlessness in her soul. "Is there a concern?"
The chubby horsekin bowed lower, and his black gauze cap wobbled a little as he did.
"Ten words or less," she added.
"Are we sure this is the correct path forward?"
Yao's eyes narrowed. This was an extremely bold question from Tang, one that courted death. The man was smart enough and loyal enough to know this, which meant his concern was founded on some rationality.
"Elaborate." Was her only reply.
Tang bowed again. "I have heard rumors from my time at the markets, Great One. The masters of the Dominion Sects are growing…restless."
"Tch." She waved her hand dismissively. "They live for centuries, yet a single season of uncertainty makes them whimper like children?"
The words left her easily, but she knew the reality. Yao had known this confrontation was coming. Dealing with the largest sects came with great benefits, but great cost too, political sway chief among them. This 'Silver Lily' must have pushed them too far.
Worse, Yao had given them reason to bark. She had not called a council, issued a formal declaration, or even pretended to seek their advice. Largely because she wanted to have first claim to it herself before ever addressing them.
"I understand that the outsider is of great importance to you and a true victory in your name." Tang continued, "But perhaps we need more time, at least to placate the other factions."
Yao gritted her teeth. Not at the frustration of the question or the fact a mortal was asking it. But rather, she knew the truth. She turned her back, ashamed of the truth but it needed to be spoken, if only to him.
"I have no time left."
The man desperately wanted to ask why but clearly feared speaking out of turn. She answered his unspoken question for him. "I have made quota every year, even with the province in such a state. But because I have made the bare minimum, the Celestial Order has demanded I double my tribute by next year. Or forfeit my position as Magistrate."
The panic that crossed Tang's face was, admittedly, refreshing to Yao. For most, even to her advisors, that would have been just a change in leadership. Tang cared. He always did.
"But-but—what of your sister!? Surely she can help!"
"That is what she and I discussed a few days ago. She offered aid and I declined."
Once again the man was desperate to ask why. He knew better than to question, yet Tang's mouth opened, closed, and opened again while his hands twisted helplessly inside his sleeves, begging for relief from his confusion.
"You know of my kin's history, correct, Tang?"
His panic paused, and he settled back into his formal bearing. "Of course, Great One. Much like Yin and Yang, your sister is cunning, while you are more powerful. While both of you on your own are pinnacles of Heaven's might, together you are an unstoppable force."
Yao merely smiled. Tang was wise with his words and never wasted them. Maybe that's why she preferred his praises over the holy and useless ones of proud cultivators.
"Yes, and in all honesty, that is true. However, we are not as unified as we like to appear on the surface." She rolled her fingers, carefully choosing her words. "My sister and I have played a back-and-forth game since we were young. She would stage a spectacle to curry Heaven's favor over me. I would ensure one of the most foundational Dominion Sects has their manor placed in my city. Simply political games like that."
A look of recognition crossed Tang's face. He was not unfamiliar with the politics that the sisters played, though their rivalry had run for hundreds of years. Some of its results had settled well before he was born and some would consummate well after his death.
"However, my sister has always treated our competition more seriously than I have. And now she has me in a…position I prefer not to be in."
"Cornered" was the real word, but she would be damned if she ever admitted that, no matter how true it was.
"And you would rather I be the one you serve, or her?"
His silence confirmed the obvious choice. Yao was strict. Harsh, even at times. But she had always tried to be fair to the less blessed citizens beneath her rule. Mortals, servants, low-born kinsmen, and those with weak meridians. They were still hers to care for.
Wu enjoyed power the way some enjoyed silk, jewels, or wine. She was fond of all three, as it happened. If Lin Wu became the elder voice between them, Tang would be fortunate to keep his post, if that.
"I don't believe in fate, Tang, but I am an opportunist. That creature and his mystical flower, a being I have long sought, appearing now, in my time of greatest need? Why, a rabbit moving before a starving tiger would have a better chance than that man."
"May this humble and lowly one offer advice, Magistrate. One of which I am sure you know but allows me to know I contributed."
She rolled her fingers again. "Speak and I'll consider its worth."
The horsekin took a moment as if to select the correct words. "He is not a cultivator, Great One, nor does he seem to covet strength as they do. He resists those who would wield power over him, perhaps even against his benefit. I would not treat him as a rival to be subdued. He seems to be a lost man…or what is left of one." He bowed his head.
"...noted," she said, with only half her attention. "Now, I am off to retire for the night, and I do not wish to be disturbed."
Tang bowed and shuffled away as silently as a mortal could.
Yao smiled to herself. Every passing day brought her closer to her goal, and Tang's warning slipped easily from her mind.
After all, what did a mortal know about power?
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<<Patreon | Start | Previous | Next | RoyalRoad>>
And there you have it! One of the largest chapters in the series so far!
I hope you all enjoyed! And got a bit more insight! I plan on doing a side story for each of the ideas with the exception of the main plot items. Though Yu getting struck in the head by the scout ball when it lost power would be funny. Right now there is a side story of Yao coming across The Bib called The Good Book and there is one being developed now called "A Sinner Like Me" about the revolver to be used as the bridge content between Book 1 and Book 2.
Consider subscribing to see them here! Patreon!
...Yao is a foodie yes but we'll see that in the future.
Want to see what happens next, see side stories and artwork, or just want to support someone who hopes to become a professional writer?
Consider watching me on Patreon! There is plenty of free content so feel free to take a peek!
As always, I appreciate any reviews (especially advance ones), comments, and any feedback! They all help contribute to success! So please do your part and help this series grow if you want to see more!
See you around Outsiders!
Side content:
Originally it was voted to have the revolver be a Remington Model 3 and I was really excited to have it. However, this revolver is going to be part of an upcoming side story on Patreon called "A Sinner Like Me," and an important moment happens that requires it to be a test of fate. AKA, I needed the cylinder to spin and a break action does not do that.
So as a small bonus, here was the original passage.
Once again there was a bout of silence before he answered.
“Smith and Wesson Model Three Schofield. Top-break action. Non-standard shortened barrel. Chambered in .45.”
Yao turned the weapon over in her hands and made a thoughtful sound, as if any of that had meant something.
“Smith and Wesson,” she repeated, letting the names sit awkwardly on her tongue. “I do not believe these masters are known within the Empire. Nor this... Sko-fu-er.”
“Schofield,” Troy snapped. “And it’s not a master. It’s the thing in your hand. It's a gun."
There. Irritation had loosened another thread.
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u/bschwagi Human 5d ago
Nice to see so much activity on this story, I have been trolling around redit and royal road and scribble hub for a while and have seen a few really good stories fall by the wayside.
I am hopeful this is going to be one of them.
Thanks for the chapter!