Limitless Evolution As a Snake

The baker asked whether putting a snake inside a cake was a dietary requirement, which suggested we’d chosen a woman with the right experience. Bridget called it entertainment, and the baker quoted a rush price without asking whether the audience had agreed to enjoy themselves.

Renn’s fan photograph made the front entrance a terrible option, which was why the cake was going through catering. Bridget kept her own registration because changing both names would lose our invitation, and she refused to let him scare her away from her property.

”So your answer is to hide me inside dessert while you walk straight towards the man who has asked for special attention,” I said. She reminded me that I’d asked for a plan more interesting than wearing another mask, which was difficult to argue with while the baker measured my coils.

[System: You’re getting smuggled in by a gorgeous woman who paid for dessert, mate; most blokes need three dating apps and a personality transplant to organise that much.]

Exactly, so let me enjoy being wanted before somebody decides the cake needs a fucking allergy warning. Bridget paid from her own account and asked for the replacement shell to fit the trolley we’d saved from the rooftop lunch.

The bakery needed forty minutes, leaving enough time for Lukas to prop his phone on a table outside for a video call to Twawi while Bridget arranged the transport. Cherry answered from the casino office, spotted the chef’s hat on her screen and said she’d finally found an outfit of mine that might help in the kitchen.

Lyra joined the call to ask what the doctor had actually said, so I sent her the clinic instructions instead of describing the fan as a brief disagreement. Cherry checked the photograph, then told me that hiding inside cake sounded like a creative way to misunderstand medical advice.

A staff member knocked at their office door before I could defend the plan, bringing a payout record that needed Lyra’s attention. She checked the figures while keeping the call open, proving that the casino could make money without its owner being physically present to frighten the customers.

”Keep earning money while I’m busy making it harder for somebody else, and I’ll bring back something that isn’t another repair bill,” I told her. Cherry told me through the speaker that this did not count as permission to buy a warehouse, then ended the call before I could ask about the storage market.

When I went back inside, Bridget had changed into a pale dress beneath a dark coat that left her wings clear. She tied the ribbon while I admired the dress, then asked whether I wanted matching cuffs. The baker added the ribbon charge as I tried to decide how seriously to take that offer.

”Try to last until the auction before eating your cover, because I would rather not explain why my dessert arrives halfway through digesting itself,” Bridget said. I promised to protect the outside while making no commitments about the useful food inside it.

Lukas drove the hired catering van after showing both of us his licence. Bridget followed with her usual driver in a separate car, and the delivery label described our cake as a free gift from a supplier grateful for the auction’s business.

A receptionist had agreed to accept it at the public refreshment table, giving the trolley a reason to enter without giving me permission to bite the host. I curled inside the shell while Old Mate reviewed the skills I hadn’t yet managed to turn into hospital visits.

[System: Gamble could double your luck for three minutes, but tails makes you a feral dickhead for just as long; maybe don’t roll that while your date’s standing near the teeth.]

I’ll save the coin for a situation where losing my mind won’t ruin someone else’s evening, and keep the twelve-body trick ready in case the cake needs emergency exits. Miniature Multitude’s three-hour cooldown had finished long ago, while Nuh-Uh was ready for another fifteen seconds of physical defence if things became stupid.

I wanted revenge with icing, but Old Mate insisted on ruining the mood. [System: Nuh-Uh still grounds you, electricity still cooks you, and the cooldown’s eight minutes; don’t make me explain why the wedding cake needs a coroner.]

At the warehouse, the worker with the patched yellow jacket helped Lukas unload the trolley beside the side fire exit. He asked what was inside, and Lukas called it a surprise before returning to the van under strict instructions to remain on the ground.

The trolley’s lower shelf held serving plates and spare napkins, giving me a narrow view of the room without lifting the lid. I counted the doors and the guards while the worker checked its brakes, then made sure the gap near my tail would let me slip out if somebody tried moving it again.

[System: Keep the exit clear, champ, because a cake with no escape plan is just a really expensive snake trap.]

I’m watching the door, but if the filling touches me again, our relationship is going to become everybody’s problem.

A waiter approached with a knife as the guests arrived, giving me a sudden understanding of how ordinary cakes felt about parties. I tilted the tray with a tendril until he caught the wobble, swore and went to find a serving stand instead of cutting straight through my face.

Through the gap beneath the icing, I saw Bridget enter with her invitation and real buyer registration. Renn greeted her as Miss Sylphid and said he hadn’t expected her personally, which sounded less convincing beside the special note his staff had placed on her account.

She asked to inspect the cooling cabinets before bidding, and the patched-jacket worker opened one while Renn was speaking to a guard. Bridget photographed the serial plate and sent it to her solicitor before putting the phone back in her hand rather than her bag.

The front doors closed, followed by the clear sound of a bolt sliding into place. Renn announced that phones were now required at reception, and when Bridget said she would withdraw instead, the guard moved between her and the door while I stopped chewing inside the cake.