Jacob smirked, clearly aware of the effect he had on Lucian.
"Anyway," he said, voice calm and deliberate.
The room around them shimmered—it's form breaking apart into streams of glowing ones and zeroes. A moment later, Lucian found himself in a new space: sleek, minimalistic, far cleaner. One table. One chair. A few tasteful furnishings softened the otherwise sterile vibe.
Jacob reappeared, manifesting in the chair like a digital ghost.
"Let's skip the small talk," he said, leaning back. "What brings you to the informant guild?"
Lucian adjusted quickly, the earlier pressure receding now that they were talking business.
"I heard from an acquaintance that you're basically the local newspaper around here," he said, stepping forward.
He leaned on the table, eyes gleaming with intent.
"I want you to put in a good word for me."
Jacob raised an eyebrow, then burst into laughter.
"Seriously? We get requests like that all the time—from nobility, mercenaries, even wandering bards."
He clapped once, chuckling as he wiped away a tear.
"Look, unless you've got some reputation already, it's not gonna stick. That's just how it is."
He kicked his feet up onto the table, lounging without a care.
Lucian smirked. Powerful or not, at least he's pragmatic. That was good—it meant he could be reasoned with.
"You seem awfully casual for someone talking to a potential high-paying client," Lucian said, inspecting a bookshelf nearby.
"Oh, please," Jacob waved him off. "If you were just a regular noble, sure, I'd be all suits and smiles. But we're both from Earth. No need to be stiff."
Then his tone shifted—subtle, calculating.
"That said... I could do you a favor," he added, his grin returning.
With a snap of his fingers, a glowing blue panel materialized beside him, spinning gently in the air.
"This is my Mechanical Mind skill," Jacob said, tapping the interface. "Lets me create things out of thin air—tools, tech, even constructs."
Lucian casually brushed some dust off a nearby potted plant, trying to reassert his composure from their earlier encounter.
"And how exactly is that going to help me?" he asked, guarded but curious.
Jacob smirked again—then, two identical copies of him appeared beside the chair, both radiating the same smug energy.
"Clones," he said proudly. "Cool, right? And these aren't just illusions. They can act, think, and move like me. Real enough."
The clones vanished in a flash.
"To get to the point: I'll make five clones of you. Send them out, have them do good deeds around the city. Charity, patrols, helping locals—stuff that builds a reputation fast."
Lucian's eyes lit up with interest, though the wariness in him remained.
"Cloning me, huh?" He chuckled under his breath. "Sounds efficient… but what's the catch?"
Jacob leaned forward, the grin never leaving his face.
"No catch," he said. "Just a small favor… later."
Lucian chuckled. He knew whatever favor Jacob had in mind wouldn't be simple—but honestly, that only made it more intriguing. And most importantly... at least it would be fun.
"You know what? Sure." He straightened his suit and extended a hand.
Before the handshake could land, Jacob appeared at his side in a blink, patting Lucian on the shoulder instead.
"No need for formalities."
Without warning, a thin needle pricked Lucian's neck—painless, subtle, but definitely deliberate.
Lucian's eyes narrowed as he instinctively touched the spot.
"Let me guess... for your skill?" he asked with a dry smirk.
Jacob inspected the needle, his eyes briefly flickering with glowing, cybernetic patterns.
"You catch on quick. This should be enough for my skill to replicate you properly."
He slid the needle into the same glowing blue panel from earlier, and with a snap of his fingers, the air shimmered into a stream of code.
In a blink, three Lucians stood before them—identical in every detail. Their personalities? Yet to be tested.
"These guys'll handle the rep-building grind for you." Jacob walked over and pressed a finger to each clone's forehead.
With a brief flash of light, all five disappeared—scattered into the city like programmed agents.
"All set," Jacob said, dusting off his hands like it was just another day's work.
Lucian raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "How long do you think they'll take?"
Jacob leaned back into his chair with a grin. "Give it five weeks. They'll get the job done. But fair warning—those clones are going to be throwing around a lot of money. And I do mean a lot."
He laughed as he spun lazily in his chair.
Lucian smirked, satisfied. His original plan was to boost his popularity before the ball with a few calculated stunts, but honestly? This might be better. Less shady. More efficient. Five times the impact with none of the legwork.
"Fine by me," Lucian said, turning toward the exit. "I'll pay you back when it's done."
He was halfway to the door when Jacob cleared his throat.
"You might want to hurry," he said casually, voice tinged with satisfaction—and something harder to place. "The royal ball's starting soon."
Lucian paused. "How'd you know I was attending?" He waved the question off before Jacob could answer. "Actually, never mind. But what do you mean hurry? It's still early."
Jacob opened his system interface and projected the screen toward Lucian.
"I used my skill to place this room in a time dilation field. Time's been moving slower in here—about ten minutes for every hour out there."
Lucian blinked, stunned. "Why would you even—?"
Jacob just smirked. "I'm an impatient guy."
Lucian gave Jacob a curious look, then shrugged. He couldn't exactly blame the guy—aside from the chaos he stirred up last night, this city was a lullaby in stone.
"I'll accept that," Lucian said with a chuckle. "But next time? A little warning wouldn't hurt."
Jacob grinned and snapped his fingers. Lucian's body dissolved into a stream of numbers, vanishing like a line of forgotten code.
"I'll do the honors," Jacob said with a casual wave.
In the next instant, Lucian reappeared outside the building.
Only now, the midday sun was gone—replaced by the cold silver glow of the moon.
"Well... he wasn't kidding," Lucian muttered, casting his gaze skyward. Then he chuckled, low and dark.
"At least I don't have to wait."
He snapped his fingers, and darkness coiled around him like a living thing.
[Dominion of Villainy Activated: The Villain of the Night (Unique)]
"Finally get to use you again."
The shadows peeled away like curtains unveiling royalty.
Lucian stood tall, now dressed in an elegant suit of enchanted ebony and violet velvet. His long coat flared behind him like a regal inferno, embroidered with dark sigils and curling silver thorns.
Draped over his shoulders was a sweeping raven-feathered mantle, each feather iridescent with hints of violet and midnight blue.
The collar rose high and sharp, like wings ready to unfurl, fastened at the chest by twin silver skull clasps.
Between them, a deep crimson gem pulsed slowly—like the beat of a slumbering heart.
Each step he took echoed with the weight of prophecy, his thigh-high boots gleaming under the flicker of scattered torchlight.
"I can't even remember the last time I conjured something this detailed," he mused, running a hand through his tousled hair.
Then, with a confident smirk: "Either way... I look dead handsome."
With that, he strode forward—toward the Duke's manor, and the long-awaited ball that promised both spectacle and scheming.