A Fae's Emporium 11 (Patreon)

Commissioned by InfiniteChaosRai

A Fae’s Emporium

Chapter 11

-VB-

“I’m bored!” her master whined from atop the counter where he lounged like the cat he was. 

Medusa supposed that this was merely how he dealt with boredom. 

Ever since their outing to that beach, there haven’t been any “interesting” customers to keep her master occupied. Oh, there were a few interesting ones here and there, but ultimately, none of them were as memorable as “Salvore 000” or Ozpin.

Most customers simply lacked the desperation and helplessness that her master wanted to see in people. 

Or, in his words, the “spark.”

She shook her head as she went back to sweeping.

And then the doors opened. 

Both she and her master looked up and noticed a few people walking in. They were … colorful. Literally. One had a red mohawk with a long, single lense goggle. Another had paper white skin with bulging muscles. And the last had more machine than flesh. They also carried a lot of weapons on them. The big man had two shotguns that were as long as his arms, the more-machine-than-flesh had many machines she did not understand, and the mohawk had a rifle and a belt of grenades. 

Medusa raised an eyebrow at the ensemble before her as they walked around the shop, looking at everything in wonder.

And calculating greed. 

She could already tell from how their muscles tensed and relaxed that they weren’t here to buy.

Oh no.

They were here to steal. 

But she wondered why her master even allowed them in if they were here to try to rob them.

Then she glanced at her master and his bored face.

Right.

Boredom.

The trio, after looking around, walked up to the counter. 

“Alright, boy. Where’s your boss? We’ve got some business with him.”

“I am the boss,” Master Alan drawled with a hum before where he lounged sideways on the counter. His cat ears flickered, and the big muscle man raised an eyebrow. 

“... Are you an Animal?”

“Sorry?” he looked surprised by the question. 

“Are you a member of the Animal gang? You have animal implants,” he grunted out as he pointed at the ears. “But you’re also not big. Are you one of the hedonists that have animal Mister Stud, too?” he laughed condescendingly. “A freak who likes his dick to have tiny little spines because he can’t pleasure a girl.”

“Sorry, my dick is normal and big enough that I don’t need a replacement. Unlike yours,” Alan yawned. 

“Mouthy punk,” the giant grunted. “Alright. We were going to go easy on you because you had some cool stuff, but now, we aren’t. We’re going to take everything in your shop and kill you at the end.”

Medusa raised an eyebrow. 

“Did doing steroids and putting on fake muscles also dull your brain? What kind of criminals tells me their plan for robbery?”

“This one, bitch!” he shouted as he pulled out one of his shotguns from the back and pointed it at her master’s head. 

And fired. 

Instead of her master’s head exploding, the giant’s head exploded. 

And through the mistified blood, gore, and bones, she noticed his bored face take on a much more …

Malicious and gleeful grin. 

Like a cheshire grin if it was evil.

The dead man’s crew shouted and yelled as they brought their weapons out, but they were incredibly slow.

Her master barely moved.

He raised a hand in the time it took the would-be robbers to pull out their guns and point it at him, and then flicked. 

Both of them lurched back as if something had grabbed them by the back of their shirts. Then they were flying out of the shop, smashing through the door, which held firm despite the force put against it, and finally, they were out of the shop. 

Medusa sighed as she prepared to get the chemicals for the blood stains again. 

She’d seen similar things happen when the shop visited rough neighborhoods and settings. 

Her master got off of the counter and grabbed the shotguns. They looked like giant metal supports when he leaned them against the counter. “... Cheap guns,” he sighed. 

“... But do you?” she had to ask.

“Huh?” he asked as he turned around to look at her in confusion. 

“Do you have a big dick like you claimed or was that a taunt?” 

He looked suspicious of her curiosity. 

“... Why do you want to know?” 

She paused. Why did she want to know?

… Oh, right. 

“You never take a bath.”

He nearly did a spit take. “I do, too!”

“I have never seen you take a bath, master,” she said slowly as she realized something crucial. “... When was the last time you took a bath?”

“I take showers!” 

“Do you scrub?”

“Of course, I do! Can’t you see my immaculate and clean and sparkling skin?!” he asked animatedly while gesturing to himself. 

She looked. 

And snorted. 

“It’s quite bloody, actually.”

He blinked and looked down at himself. “Oh yeah. The dead guy,” he muttered as he looked at the still present corpse and the pool of blood underneath it. 

With a bit of magic she managed to learn from her master, she made the body disappear and then scourgified the blood stains everywhere. 

“Well, it seems that my cleaning duties are done already, master!” she smiled tightly. “It looks like I get to wash you today, then,” she grinned. 

“... Ah.” 

He tried to run for it. 

He failed to take into account that not only was she faster than him, he also never managed to escape her when she really wanted to get her hands on him. 

She leapt over the displays and carefully stacked merchandise as he tried to weave through them. And just as he was about to make a turn, she pounced down onto him and he crashed into the floor. 

“Wait, wait, wait, I can bathe myself! You don’t need to drag me off!” he mewled as she grabbed him by his ankle and dragged him away. 

See, there was something she learned about her master. 

Due to his half-fae nature, he was intrinsically locked to certain concepts. Oh, sure, his human half gave him a lot more freedom and imagination than a fae would have, but even then, there were limits even he had to observe. 

One of those was “to act as it befits his station.”

What did that mean? 

Her master was the “lord” of the shop. The final authority. It made him a “king.” However, a king was served by others, and she was the only Servant. In matters concerning hygiene, cleanliness, and other work-related concepts, she had a sort-of “priority” over him.

And that meant that she got to humble her master every once in a while, keeping his ego in check. 

And being a cat fae…

He hated water. Oh, he would rather use magic to clean himself, but magic didn’t quite clean everything. 

“Spare me~!” he shrieked as the shop doors closed on their own.

And not too long after, so too did the bathroom doors close with a loud thud that rang out like the final toll. 

-VB-

“Now, was that so bad?” Medusa asked her master after a very thorough bath. 

He sat in place like a wet cat and glared at her. 

Yes, he had the cat energy down to a T. 

“You aren’t anything like your mythological self,” he grumbled. 

She merely raised an eyebrow before getting a second towel and started drying his head. 

He garbled underneath her “gentle” ministration, and when she pulled the towel away, she smiled even as laughter threatening to burst forth from her lips.

For all of the trouble and problems her master put her through, he could be cute at times. Sure, he was an adult, but right now, he looked like a pout teenager. 

Alan huffed. “Well, if you want to bathe me so much, then we should go to somewhere that actually offers proper bathing.”

“Oh? You intend to go somewhere that isn’t for the sake of trading?”

“I can leave the shop for a while if I want to!” he declared but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. 

“And where would this place of ‘proper bathing’ be?”

“Iceland.”

-VB-

A/N: we will come back to Cyberpunk later.