Start as a Spiritual Planter: I Have a Game Panel

The warm, stinging liquid slid down Ram's throat, and for a moment, the act felt so natural he almost forgot he was wearing another man's face.

He slammed the bottle back down on the makeshift table, the sound a sharp crack that made the other thugs flinch.

"So," Ram began, his voice a low growl that commanded attention, "Marcos is running things into the ground, as usual."

"What's the real mood around here? Anyone got the guts to tell me what's actually been going on?"

Grom, the burly thug with the spiderweb tattoo, exchanged a quick, nervous glance with the others before leaning forward.

"Captain, you're really back! We thought... Well, we thought Marcos was gonna run us into the ground with his by-the-book nonsense."

"It's been tense, Captain. Real tense," he said, his voice dropping. "After you... went missing, things got chaotic. And Big Boss Shane… he's been in a bad mood. Barely seen him."

"And the new hideout?" Ram pressed, taking another swig. "So, spill it. What's he been screwing up while I was gone?"

That was all the invitation they needed. The complaints came pouring out.

"He's got us on double patrols, Captain!" a lanky man with a nasty-looking scar on his cheek whined. "Says we gotta be on high alert for those robed freaks. We're running on fumes."

"And the supply runs are a mess," another chimed in, gesturing with a half-empty bottle.

"He's cutting rations, says we gotta 'conserve resources' since the lab went up in smoke. Conserve? We're starving out here!"

Ram nodded, his expression a mask of grim understanding.

He let them vent, picking up valuable bits of information with every complaint.

Morale was shot. They were stretched thin, and they hated Marcos for it.

They saw Kain… or the man they thought was Kain, as their champion, the one who understood that a gang runs on strength and spoils, not schedules and ration cards.

"And what about these attacks?" Ram asked, his voice low and dangerous. "I hear some of our outposts have been getting hit. Marcos letting them get picked off one by one?"

Another thug, a lanky man with a nasty scar across his lip, chimed in. "Yes, they're moving a lot of hardware in, Captain."

"Heavy-duty stuff. Looks like the Boss is expecting a real war. Talk is, it's all for the Harvest Festival."

"The festival," Ram echoed, letting the words hang. "Always good for business. And trouble."

He spent another ten minutes there, listening to the gossip, the complaints, the fear.

He learned about the increased weapon shipments, the unease about the mysterious Half-Drows, and the general consensus that Shane was planning something big for the festival, something that had everyone on edge.

It was all invaluable information, filling in the gaps in the maps and data he'd seen in the command center.

Finally, feigning boredom, he pushed himself up.

"Alright, you pathetic lot. Try not to lose all your credits before I get back." He gave Grom a rough pat on the shoulder that was more of a shove.

"I'm going to find my quarters. I need to wash off the stink of whatever hole those Drows were keeping me in."

He left them to their cards and their whispers, navigating the familiar yet slightly altered corridors of the subway station.

After some searching, he found one empty quarter that was left for him, a slightly larger, slightly less grimy section of an old train car that had been sealed off.

It wasn't luxurious, but it was private.

Inside, the air was stale.

A layer of dust covered the simple metal bed and the weapons locker in the corner.

Ram ran a hand over the locker. This was what he'd really come for.

If there was anything of value, any personal data pads, any hidden information about Shane's plans, it would be in here.

Kain was paranoid, but also arrogant. Ram examined the lock.

It was a standard-issue biometric scanner, keyed to Kain's thumbprint.

A smile touched Ram's lips. The Mind Shadow Parasite had absorbed more than just mannerisms.

He pressed his thumb, Kain's thumb, to the scanner. There was a soft beep, and the heavy lock clicked open.

'Too easy,' Ram thought, swinging the heavy metal door open.

Inside, among the expected arsenal of high-caliber handguns, knives, and a few illegal military-grade explosives, was a small, unassuming data slate.

Ram picked it up. This was it. The jackpot.

He powered it on.

The screen flickered to life, and Ram's breath caught in his throat.

It was encrypted, of course, but Kain's password, a crude combination of his own name and his favorite brand of synth-ale, was laughably easy to guess from the context of his memories.

As the files decrypted, Ram's eyes widened.

This was more than just gang business.

There were some communications with Alchemist Brian, details regarding some schematics for a new, more potent version of Eclipse Dust, and a hidden ledger detailing payments and shipments that led directly to underground corporations owned by... the Shadow Society.

But the most damning file was a short, encrypted video message. It was from Shane.

The grainy hologram flickered to life, showing Shane's face, his expression cold and calculating.

"Kain," his recorded voice said, "the festival is the deadline. Alchemist Brian wants a new test batch of the enhanced Dust ready."

"The primary distribution point will be the Zero Point Arena. I've found a new... source for the raw materials. The results should be... explosive."

"I need you to handle the transportation to the usual place… by the end of the week."

The message ended, but Ram felt a chill that had nothing to do with the stale air in the train car.

'A new source. What did that mean?'

Looking down, his gaze fell on another file, a research note from the alchemist he'd captured.

It detailed the agonizing effects of Eclipse Dust on the human soul. And then, he saw it. A new entry, dated just a few days ago.

[Research Note - Subject: Skaar Bloodline Compatibility. Preliminary tests show extreme adverse reactions to Eclipse Dust. However, the potential for energy amplification is… significant. Recommend further study on diluted samples. Caution: High risk of subject... combustion.]

'Skaar? Isn't this Esha's race?'

"Damm.. this guy was actually targeting the people behind Esha…" Ram's blood ran cold.

"That son of a bitch," Ram whispered, he continued to look into the data slate to find more details… but there wasn't much information, except for the pickup location.

He stared at the data slate, the flickering light of the screen reflecting in his wide, stunned eyes.

Esha. Liam's new, terrifying, and overwhelmingly powerful wife.

The woman who could bring a Tier 5 professional to his knees with a single glance.

And Shane, that monster, was planning on using her people… her family, maybe even her…as raw material for a supercharged version of Eclipse Dust.

His fingers tightened around the data slate.

He knew he had to do something... but he still didn't know where Shane hid this person... and looking at the date, the message was from a few days back, and it was already past the weekend.

Which means someone else must have already completed the delivery.

"Damn..." He quickly scanned the rest of the files, but the video and the research note were the most critical pieces.

The rest was just logistics… shipping routes, payment schedules, names of low-level dealers.

Useful, but not urgent.

He wiped the data slate clean of any access logs, slipped it into his inner pocket, and carefully re-locked the weapons locker.

He stepped out of the quarters, forcing his posture to relax into Kain's familiar, arrogant swagger.

The thugs were still huddled around their card game.

"I'm heading out," Ram spoke, his voice the perfect imitation of Kain's gruff tone. "Gotta check on the other patrols. Marcos is probably screwing that up too."

Grom looked up, his expression a mix of respect and relief. "You got it, Captain. We'll hold things down here."

Ram gave a casual nod, not breaking stride as he walked toward the station's exit.

He could feel their eyes on his back, but he didn't turn around.

Once he was out of sight, he picked up the pace, and soon he found a secluded, trash-strewn dead-end, the perfect blind spot.

He took one last look around, ensuring he wasn't being followed.

Closing his eyes, he focused, and with a familiar, dizzying lurch, the alley dissolved around him, replaced by the soft, green glow of his Sylvan Space.

He reappeared inside his housing plant. He was breathing heavily, the adrenaline finally catching up to him.

Korrin and Nyra, who had been meditating nearby, immediately sensed his return and rushed to his side.

"Master, you've returned!" Korrin said, his expression concerned as he took in Ram's disheveled state. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Worse, everything's happening faster than we thought… we need to improvise the plan again," Ram said, his voice gloomy as he strode past them toward the center of the housing plant.