Chapter 344: The Cow Came with a Launch History

I arrived in Ami with three girlfriends, two dog bowls, and a plan to improve society by selling extremely cold milk beside a questionable plastic cow.

The return transport had cost part of the fifteen-hundred-credit allowance I had set aside for these trips. Old Mate described the expense as evidence that I should have evolved wheels, which would have created several new problems he refused to discuss.

Lyra spent the journey beside Bridget, asking what she liked about the apartment. Cherry sat opposite them with the luggage and offered increasingly terrible suggestions for naming the milk counter.

By the time we reached Udder the Sea, Bridget had invited them upstairs without looking at me for permission. I liked that enough to miss the first thing Tasmin said.

She repeated it while placing the invoice against my nose.

"The sponsor paid thirty thousand into the club account, and the equipment remains disconnected until the inspection finishes. You can admire your girlfriends after approving the installation budget."

"I had been admiring the healthy workplace culture, although I accepted that the view might have confused you."

Her pink eyes moved toward the women, then back to me. "The culture can pay its bills like everyone else."

[System: She’s got you by the financial short and curlies, mate. Sign the budget before she charges extra for watching you pretend to understand a receipt.]

I understood the total perfectly, which was why I disliked it.

We capped the setup at twenty thousand credits: eight for the cold counter, six for the cow and drive package, four for installation, and two for opening stock. The sponsor money was real income from one agreed broadcast, not the refundable million we had already returned.

I also paid twenty-one hundred to extend Dazza’s depot holding for three weeks. His next walk needed planning, and I refused to let a missed payment become somebody else’s argument with an eldritch mouth.

The guarded baitfish and fittings case finally reached its proper storage. No secret weapon emerged from it, which disappointed Old Mate until the installer found three useful spare brackets.

The depot’s ordinary daily payments had kept running during my recovery, so the advance booking extended care instead of pretending Dazza had stayed free until I remembered him. I asked Cherry to keep the receipts with mine, then immediately regretted giving another woman written evidence of how expensive my affection could become. She promised to file it beneath a photograph of the box he would probably prefer.

Over the following week, the counter took shape while I continued healing. Chrome taps went in beneath a pink sign, cheese filled the display, and Tasmin introduced the adult dairy suppliers who would handle regular deliveries.

Vela planned the opening show. She offered me a private preview with the easy confidence of someone good at her work, and I thanked her before asking what the lighting would cost.

"Your priorities were disappointing," she said, writing down a number that made them feel sensible.

Lyra helped choose the menu because she wanted to, then dragged me away once the useful decisions were finished. We explored the serviced promenade outside the club in our shared water-breathing abilities, with Bridget pointing out familiar turns and Cherry using her own light to make rude arrows on the wall.

I stayed within the depth I could handle. Being a fish-related monster did not make every dark stretch of ocean my personal bathtub.

Lyra took my tail and guided me around a slow current, laughing when I tried to pretend I had intended the sideways arrival. For several minutes, the club could survive without my genius.

When we returned, Lukas had pinned the race proposal beside the stage.

The Udderly Bare Grand Prix involved consenting adult cow-folk runners, a marked course in the dry hall, and betting managed through the venue’s existing licensed event desk. The runners chose the theme themselves and had fixed appearance pay plus a winner’s prize, instead of relying on strangers to decide whether their dignity earned dinner.

The head dancer wanted to announce it. Lukas volunteered to hold anything she needed, then looked disappointed when she gave him a clipboard.

[System: Your mate’s courting a woman with a rocket launcher by demonstrating stationery skills. That’s modern romance, champ, and frankly he’s punching above his bloody filing grade.]

At least she hadn’t asked him to catch anything explosive.

Old Mate offered Milk the Situation: three thousand EXP and twenty IP after thirty paid orders, working refrigeration, and the staff paid. I accepted while watching Cherry test a strawberry sample and immediately steal a second.

The installer interrupted before I could accuse her of commercial sabotage. The cooling controller in our shipment belonged to quarry machinery, and the correct unit appeared to have gone to a freight lot outside the residential bubble.

The broker confirmed the serial mismatch. Hansen had requested the last-minute change through his commission arrangement, but the paperwork alone didn’t explain what else had been touched.

[System: Cold Milk, Hot Evidence, mate. Recover the controller you paid for and find who changed the shipment, and that’s five thousand EXP plus twenty-five IP. Nobody sabotages our spearmint before I’ve had a bloody taste.]

The installers arranged an empty demonstration in the service bay. Main power stayed isolated from the public floor, barriers kept the spectators out, and I floated beside Lyra while the crew checked the machine.

Bridget and Cherry watched from the marked doorway. Lyra took my tail while we waited and suggested that our next shared purchase could be something without a blast history. I offered a picnic basket, and she accepted before Old Mate could recommend military compartments.

Lukas had gone for his rib examination, leaving me briefly unchallenged as the stupidest male on site.

The operator checked the saddle sensor and asked whether anyone had placed weight on it.

Nobody had touched the cow.

An occupied-seat symbol flashed on the display anyway, followed by a bright announcement that the passenger had accepted the extreme experience. Beneath its plastic belly, something began making a noise that belonged several kilometers away from a room full of milk.