Anastasia sneered as she followed the Lady toward Galehaven Comics, her voice full of scorn. "Heh, these gullible Mondstadters actually believe that bard's ridiculous tales—pathetic." Her mood was bitter; yesterday's plan to get the city defense map had failed, met with Jean's rejection and a Haki-fueled beating that left her unconscious. Carried back to the Goethe Hotel like a sack, her pride still hurt, the humiliation in front of the Lady was a wound she couldn't forget.
Luke nodded in agreement, his own skepticism mirroring hers. "Rewards from reading comics? Sounds like a fairy tale for fools." He had survived Jean's warning shot, but the idea of magical books granting power seemed absurd to him, a joke not worth considering.
The Lady's brow furrowed as she walked, her mind grappling with the overheard chatter. "Reading comics to claim their contents—could such a thing be true?" Over five centuries, her travels had revealed countless wonders, yet this defied even her vast experience, verging on fantasy. Still, Jean's sudden increase in strength and Luke's awed description of the shopkeeper's respect bothered her—could this be the link tying everything together? "We'll see for ourselves," she silently decided, quickening her pace as the trio neared the alley holding Galehaven Comics.
Stepping inside, the Lady's sharp eyes swept the space. Its unfamiliar blend of cozy and alien decor piqued her curiosity despite her cautious demeanor. Five readers were lounging inside—Amber, Eula, Lisa, Barbara, and a chuunibyou-clad girl—each engrossed in a comic, their focus unbroken by her entrance. Spotting Lisa and the Knights among them startled her—once might be chance, but four together clearly showed intent, a pattern too deliberate to ignore. "There's something extraordinary here," she mused inwardly, her suspicion hardening into certainty as she took in the scene.
Lisa's gaze flicked up, her lazy smile tightening into a frown. "Why's that woman here—retaliation for yesterday, or sniffing out the shop's secrets?" If the Fatui gained access to Galehaven's power, Mondstadt's fragile balance could tip—a worry she'd need to tell Jean soon.
"Welcome—here to read comics, you three?" Harlan Flint asked from behind the counter, his tone even despite a flicker of surprise at their swift arrival. He had anticipated the Fatui's interest after the clash, but not this fast—and certainly not led by an executive like the Lady herself. Guests were guests, though, and he wouldn't turn them away—not when his shop's power could crush any threat, Harbinger or otherwise.
The Lady fixed him with a probing stare. "I've heard your shop offers rewards for reading comics—is that true, or just a bard's fanciful lie?" This black-haired youth seemed unremarkable, yet Jean's respect hinted at unseen depths—could comics truly be the source of such reverence? Questions swirled in her mind as she sized him up, looking for cracks in his calm facade that refused to appear.
"It's 100,000 Mora per read, one book a day," Harlan answered, his voice steady as he met her scrutiny without flinching.
"Here," the Lady said, her expression unchanging as she slid a pouch across the counter, Solstice's wealth making the price trivial. The Northland Bank's funds, fueled by Fatui schemes, ensured Mora flowed like water for her ambitions—she wouldn't object to this. "Can I pick now?" she asked, eager to test the rumors and unravel the mystery that had drawn her here.
"Sorry, no comics are free yet—you'll need to wait," Harlan replied, his tone matter-of-fact as he gestured to the occupied readers.
"Wait?" The Lady's frown deepened, a rare irritation flaring—executives didn't wait; others conformed to her schedule, not the reverse. For critical matters or important figures, she'd tolerate delay, but waiting for a mere comic felt beneath her status.
"When someone finishes, you can take their book—those are the rules," Harlan said, his voice calm but unyielding, allowing no debate.
"Wait for a comic? Do you even understand how valuable the Lady's time is?" Anastasia snapped, seizing the chance to regain favor after yesterday's disgrace. The Lady's silence emboldened her—she assumed tacit approval, her eyes darting to the readers as she plotted to take a book by force. Lisa's group, all Knights, seemed a risky target—four against one weighted the odds—so she focused on Fischl, who was solitary and engrossed.
As Anastasia stepped toward the chuunibyou girl, Harlan's voice cut through, low and firm. "This shop has rules—no snatching comics allowed." He set his teacup down with deliberate slowness, and in that instant, a titanic pressure erupted, filling Galehaven Comics with an invisible, suffocating weight. The air thickened, a vast, primal force pressing down as if the space itself might break under its might, leaving every soul within trembling.
Amber, Eula, Lisa, Barbara, and Fischl froze, their comics forgotten as they swallowed hard, dwarfed by a presence that overshadowed their very beings. Life, will, even their souls felt borrowed, pinned beneath a power so absolute they couldn't utter a whisper of resistance. Was this the shopkeeper's true strength—an unassuming man wielding a might that humbled them all in a heartbeat?
Anastasia bore the brunt. An unseen blow slammed her backward, blood spraying from her lips as she crashed outside, collapsing unconscious once more.
"First offense gets a warning—break the rules again, and it won't end so lightly," Harlan said, his tone icy and detached, devoid of warmth. The pressure lifted as he reined it in, the shop settling back into stillness, though the echo of his power lingered in their bones.
The Lady collapsed to her knees, her mask of composure shattered. Horror etched her features as she stared at Harlan with wide, disbelieving eyes. She had let Anastasia test him, expecting resistance but not this—a force that pinned her speechless, stripping her of control in mere seconds. It dragged her back to centuries past, a powerless mortal once more, her strength a flicker against this overwhelming tide. He looked so ordinary—yet this aura rivaled, no, surpassed anything she'd felt, even from the Tsaritsa herself in Solstice's icy halls. Who was this man, this unassuming keeper of comics, wielding a might that could crush gods without breaking a sweat?