Now, how to actually do it?

  He scanned the room. Anders was closing in on Lena and Rob, eyes sharp, interrogation mode fully activated. They had approximately ten seconds before their cabbage continent house of lies colpsed in on itself.

  Blorbo needed a distraction, and a really good one. Something like—

  What if the old man wasn’t the one who rearranged the house? He’s never home during the days.

  Then, where are the knives?

  That’s right! The twelve missing knives! If he pyed this right, he could kill two birds with one stone.

  Blorbo activated Adjustable Angle and leaned a perfect 2 degrees. Just enough to shake a nearby chair. The chair swayed ominously, and Anders’ eyes flicked toward it.

  Perfect.

  Then, with a carefully timed surface tremor, Blorbo sent a single fork—one of the old, dented ones Lena never used, but was somehow on the chair—cttering onto the floor.

  Anders’ head snapped toward the sound like an eagle spotting prey. “What was that?” His voice was sharp.

  Lena and Rob froze, horrified.

  Blorbo internally cheered. Yes! Focus on the fork! Ask him why the fork is there! Forget about Majapahit! Forget about invisible cabbage!

  Anders walked over and picked up the fork, turning it over in his hands. His brow furrowed. “Why is this warm?”

  Blorbo did not know why the fork was warm. But that was an EXCELLENT question, and one that had nothing to do with Lena or Rob.

  Rob cleared his throat. “Uh. Must be the... humidity?”

  Anders frowned. “It’s raining.”

  Lena nodded furiously. “Right. Moist air conducts heat!”

  You just need to ask him why the fork was on the chair, idiots! What are you babbling about?

  Anders slowly turned the fork over in his palm. Then his gaze swept the room, his frown deepening. “Everything has shifted. Have you done this? Where are my knives?”

  Yes! The perfect shift in topic!

  Lena and Rob both jumped at the chance.

  “Great question!” Lena said. “Where are your knives?”

  Rob nodded aggressively. “You always keep them in the cupboard, don’t you?”

  Anders’ eyes narrowed. “…I do.”

  Blorbo exhaled in relief as the System popped up.

  [QUEST COMPLETED: The Art of Misdirection (1)]Reward Granted: +2 PER, +5 CP

  [Passive Skill Unlocked: Forked Tongue (Level I)]

  Description: Subtle object interactions (like leaning, shaking, or shifting weight) are less likely to be noticed as intentional. If someone suspects foul py, they are 20% more likely to bme someone else first.

  Then why is it named Forked Tongue if there’s no tongue involved?

  Anders threw open the cupboard doors, only to find emptiness staring back at him. He bellowed, then, with the kind of predatory energy that only a man who has lost all his knives at once could radiate, tore through the house.

  “Where is it? Where are they?!”

  Lena and Rob watched in arm as he flung open drawers, flipped cushions, and even checked inside the bread box, as if one of his twelve missing knives had politely folded itself into a loaf of sourdough.

  “Dad, what the hell?” Lena finally demanded as Anders rummaged through the firepce.

  “My knives,” Anders snapped. “They were in the cupboard. Now they are not.”

  “Maybe you moved them and forgot?” Rob offered weakly.

  Anders turned to him with the intensity of a storm god. “I have never forgotten a knife in my life.”

  That was the moment it hit them. Something was wrong.

  Lena’s brows knit together. “Wait… you’re right. Everything is different.”

  She looked around. So did Rob.

  For the first time that night, they truly took in their surroundings.

  Hold on. I thought one of you guys rearranged the house. So none of you did this?

  Anders stopped moving. His face turned grim. “Someone was in this house.”

  Oh no. We have been infiltrated by a mystical interior decorator!

  Rob went pale. “And they didn’t steal anything… except for the knives?”

  Silence.

  They all turned, almost in sync, and rushed to check the safe. But it was completely untouched. Lena flung open the safe. Blorbo couldn’t see the actual content since the safe was in a different room, but he could hear Lena’s voice, “The jewelry, the coin purse, the pebbles. They’re still all here!”

  Everything was exactly where it should be.

  Except the knives. Or the fact that the entire house has been redecorated.

  As all of them returned to the main room, Rob swallowed. “Uh. What exactly is going on here?”

  Anders paced around and Lena hugged herself. Nobody answered.

  Rob looked at the door. It was still locked from the inside.

  Blorbo, now deeply uncomfortable, mentally screamed at the System.

  HELLO? SOMEBODY LITERALLY BURGLED THE HOUSE! WHERE IS MY QUEST FOR THIS?!

  Because this was no longer a simple case of missing knives.

  Somebody had been in their home. Somebody had touched everything.

  And they had left without a trace.

  “Wait. There’s a trace!” Lena called out and she crouched down and picked up a piece of paper atop the stack of neatly arranged books. “It’s like… a business card.”

  “What does it say?” Rob asked.

  Then the old man snatched the business card from Lena and read out loud, “Master Shifu of Feng Shui Sect, Xianxiand.”

  Xianxiand? What kind of utterly uncreative name is that? I didn’t even know there’s an ancient East Asian civilization in this world.

  Another system quest popped up.

  [SIDEQUEST: Do not ask questions (1)]

  Objective: Do not ask questions

  Reward: + 1 EXP, + 1 CP

  Blorbo proceeded to not ask questions.

  [SIDEQUEST COMPLETED—Do not ask questions (1)]

  Reward: + 1 EXP, + 1 CP

  “Have you heard of this ‘Master Shifu’ person, Anders?” Rob asked.

  Anders exhaled sharply, his expression twisting into something between disgust and deep-seated disdain. He then flipped the card over in his fingers. “I have no knowledge of him. But Xianxiand, I am familiar with.” The way he said it dripped with contempt.

  Lena and Rob exchanged a gnce, but neither of them said anything.

  “That kiwi nonsense,” Anders sneered. “What a fwed, primitive attempt at magic. A system built on nothing but blind faith and absurd superstition. They cim to cultivate their ‘internal energy,’ as if waving their hands around in slow motion will grant them untold power.” He scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

  I’m pretty sure the foundational essence of xianxia cultivation is not pronounced ‘kiwi’...

  Or maybe it does. Everything in this world is food-based.

  Lena blinked. “Isn’t that just—”

  “Do not compare it to actual magery,” Anders cut her off immediately. “The EMRCAR is a structured, precise science. Studied, developed, refined by schors and grandmasters over centuries. We have exact formue for how to conjure chickens. Not… whatever nonsense they practice in their mountain temples.”

  But didn’t you just say only a handful are able to make chickens? How are they not able to make more en masses if they have the formu?

  Lena frowned. “You’re saying their whole system is fake?”

  “I would not go so far as to affirm such a thing.” Anders said, and then, with a malicious little smirk, added, “But hear this. Their ‘cultivation’, or whatever they want to call it, works only because they likely stole what they know from EMRCAR schors centuries ago and then bastardized it into their little mystical cult. You give them an incantation, they strip it of its runic components, chant it until their ancestors weep, and then cim they have ‘achieved enlightenment.’ Pathetic.” He threw the business card into the ground.

  Rob tapped his chin. “And yet, some of those Xianxiand cultivators are really strong…”

  Anders pinched the bridge of his nose as he snarled. “Yes, Robert. And so is a goril. But a goril is stupid.”

  Yeah. I don’t know what this old man’s deal with Xianxiand is, but his quips sure are funny.

  “This Master Shifu bastard!” Anders growled. “Where is he based? I must get my knives back.”

  “I have never heard of him,” Lena mused, then stopped for a second. “But Master Bimbleton might… He’s a man of connections.”

  “I’ll turn his pretty mansion upside down if he doesn’t give me an answer!” Anders stormed out.

  “But it’s nearly night…” Lena trailed off. Rob had already put on his coat from the hanger as he walked out the door.

  “I’ll follow him,” he said.

  “And I’ll follow you,” she said.

  “I don’t want you anywhere near Bimbleton, Lena.” Rob sighed.

  “Don’t worry.” She patted Blorbo. “As long as this enchanted table is with us, we’re sure to be fine.”

  “Are you really pnning on bringing the table along?”

  “We can’t just leave him here.” Lena gestured at him. “He’s basically part of the family now. And I have a sneaky suspicion that he’ll only disclose certain information if we beat him in a table duel.”

  That’s ridiculous even for me to hear! But one does not question Lena’s line of thinking, especially if it benefits me.

  Rob gasped exasperatedly. He was probably lost for words.

  Lena continued, “You don’t just challenge a man of commerce with words, Rob. You bring a negotiation table.”

  Rob huffed once, closed his eyes, scrunched his nose, then said, “Fine. Let me go get the cart.”

  NameBlorboRaceAnimated Furniture (Table)CssNoneLevel2EXP38/50HP18/20MP2CP6 (+6)STR11END16AGI19PER15 (+2)SkillsAppraisal (Level 1)

  Adjustable Angle (2 Degrees)

  Opportunity Sense (Level 1)

  Surface Agitation (Level 1)

  Synchronized Sitting (Level 1)

  Forked Tongue (Level 1)

  Massive Leap Under Duress (Conditional)

  Retribution Counter (Level 1)

  AuraUseless Gloved Fool (Permanent)

  InventoryA Pair of Wooden-Colored Socks