Chapter 40: Whispers Of The Chalice And Chewy Balls Of Happiness

The Mercedes glided through midday traffic, weaving between cars with Cyrus’s usual precision. Kane checked the address on his phone again.

"Turn here. Mochi’s shop should be just down this street."

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. "This doesn’t look like a district for rare artifact trading."

They pulled up to a weathered storefront with a hand-painted sign reading "Mochi’s Miscellanea" in faded letters.

The display window looked more like a thrift shop than an occult archive—vintage radios, porcelain cats, and a blender from the ’80s.

"Are you certain this is the correct location?" Cyrus frowned.

Kane nodded. "Don’t let appearances fool you. Mochi specializes in hiding in plain sight."

A bell jingled as they entered.

The shop’s interior was crammed with shelves holding everything from antique books to kitchen appliances. The scent of incense hung in the air.

"SCALEY DADDY!" A dark-haired figure in a leather jacket vaulted over the counter, practically sprinting toward them.

"And Kane-chan! You’re both here!"

Mochi’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he circled them, admiring their new suits.

"Looking sharp! Very sharp! Come in, come in! I’ve got tea brewing and information that’ll make your whiskers twitch!"

"Sorry we’re late," Kane said, smoothing down his suit jacket.

"Had a fun run-in with a rogue rat spirit. Thought of you—y’know, figured you’d be more experienced in catching rats."

Mochi’s playful demeanor vanished instantly. His pupils narrowed to slits, and he crossed his arms defensively.

"What makes you think I’d be good at catching rats?" His voice dropped an octave, suddenly cold.

"Because you’re a..." Kane trailed off, recognizing his mistake too late.

"A what, Kane?" Mochi’s tail swished dangerously behind him.

"Honestly, I hate rats." Mochi’s nose wrinkled in disgust. "They are filthy, disease-carrying vermin." I wouldn’t lower myself to chase them."

Kane raised his hands in surrender. "My bad. That was a cheap stereotype. Won’t happen again."

Cyrus watched the exchange with barely concealed amusement.

Mochi’s sunny disposition returned as quickly as it had disappeared.

"Good! Now, about that chalice." He gestured toward a beaded curtain at the back of the shop.

Kane swept aside the beaded curtain, revealing a back room that perfectly embodied organized chaos.

Posters of punk bands covered every inch of wall space—The Clash, Sex Pistols, and several Japanese bands Kane didn’t recognize.

A vintage arcade cabinet flickered in the corner, the 8-bit sounds of Pac-Man providing a nostalgic soundtrack.

"Welcome to my sanctuary," Mochi announced, dropping into a worn leather office chair decorated with safety pins and band patches.

He propped his combat boots on a desk cluttered with artifacts, magazines, and empty energy drink cans.

A guitar with chipped black paint leaned against a bookshelf overflowing with grimoires and comic books.

Kane spotted a collection of occult items arranged on shelves: spirit charms, protection talismans, and what appeared to be a genuine human skull wearing sunglasses.

Cyrus remained in the doorway, his imposing frame barely fitting through the entrance.

Mochi gestured toward a worn leather couch and a mismatched armchair.

"Sit, sit! Make yourselves comfortable."

He disappeared into the store again, returning moments later with three plastic cups of bubble tea, complete with oversized straws.

"Here we go! One taro for Kane-chan, jasmine for Scaley Daddy, and classic milk tea for me."

Cyrus stared at the green concoction, then at Mochi. "I thought you said you had tea brewing."

"Oh!" Mochi laughed, his two tails swishing behind him.

"That’s just an expression. I don’t actually know how to brew tea. Too complicated with all that steeping and water temperature nonsense."

He slurped his drink enthusiastically, a tapioca pearl shooting up his straw.

"Bubble tea is much better anyway. Why choose boring leaf water when you can enjoy chewy balls of happiness?"

Kane nodded, already working on his taro drink. "He’s got a point. Nothing beats good bubble tea."

Cyrus looked between them with thinly veiled disapproval before cautiously sipping his jasmine tea.

His eyebrows raised slightly—the only indication he didn’t completely hate it.

"Now," Mochi said, leaning forward, "about that chalice you’re looking for..."

Mochi reached under his desk and pulled out a worn manila folder.

He flipped it open, revealing newspaper clippings, photographs, and handwritten notes.

"So I did some serious digging after you left—called in favors, traded three rare artifacts, and had to promise my firstborn kitten to a sea witch." He waved dismissively.

"Anyway, I found something interesting."

It was a crumpled photograph of a balding man in an expensive suit.

"Meet Bernard Holloway," he said, sliding the photo across the desk.

"Old money, older artifacts. Word on the spirit street is he’s acquired the Midnight Chalice through some less-than-legitimate channels."

Kane studied the image. "This is our guy?"

"Supposedly." Mochi twirled a pen between his fingers.

"My sources spotted him with something matching the chalice’s description at an auction six months ago. Problem is—" he slurped his bubble tea dramatically.

"—Holloway boarded the Silver Mermaid luxury cruise last week. A thirty-day Mediterranean voyage."

"A month?" Kane groaned. "We don’t have that kind of time."

"There’s more," Mochi continued. "Holloway travels with heavy security. Ex-military types who know how to deal with spirits."

Cyrus set down his bubble tea, his expression darkening.

"Holloway," he said, the name leaving his lips like a curse. "I’m familiar with him."

Kane and Mochi both turned to him, surprised.

"You know this guy?" Kane asked.

"He’s human but has a particular interest in the spirit world." Cyrus’s fingers tapped against the desk, crimson energy briefly flickering around his knuckles.

"He first appeared at auction houses about fifteen years ago. No background in antiquities, yet suddenly bidding millions on spirit artifacts."

Mochi’s eyes widened. "How does a human even get access to spirit auctions?"

"Money opens doors that should remain closed," Cyrus replied. "And he has amassed quite a collection."

"So we need to get onto a luxury cruise, past professional guards, to steal from a collector who specifically targets spirit artifacts?" Kane asked.

Cyrus shook his head, adjusting his cufflinks.

"We won’t be stealing anything," he said, his tone measured and calm.

Kane blinked in surprise. "You’re just going to... talk to him?"

"Business is business." Cyrus’s expression remained impassive. "Holloway respects power and wealth above all else. I possess both in quantities he can only dream of."

Mochi grinned, slurping his bubble tea. "Sounds like you two need tickets for a Mediterranean cruise."