SSS Ranked Merchant: Rebuilding a Broken Kingdom With Unlimited Wealth-Chapter 19: An Invitation

Lyrasia awoke to the horrifying sound of joy.

People outside were screaming in delight, probably celebrating some dumb village thing that had absolutely nothing to do with her. The sheer volume of happiness made her head throb.

'What kind of monster wakes up this early and chooses joy?'

Her bed gave a faint creak beneath her as she shifted, the mattress oddly comfortable for someone who had once been an adult with taxes to avoid.

She sighed. 'Still a baby.'

Still trapped in this tiny, cursed body that defied logic. Babies weren't supposed to have this much control.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

At this point, she was less of a normal infant and more of a tiny, underdeveloped adult with dwarfism. A fraudulent baby.

Her room was surprisingly clean, considering how she'd been violently experimenting with magic the night before.

In a fit of genius, she had nearly set the furniture on fire, but thanks to "accidental baby instincts," she had avoided total destruction. Progress.

Then—it was time for breakfast.

Unfortunately, that also meant mother time.

Before she could protest, she was effortlessly scooped up into the arms of Lilith, her mother, who radiated maternal energy like some terrifying sun.

"There, there, does my little baby want her milkies?"

Oh god.

This was her reality.

This was her fate.

With the deadest of eyes, Lyrasia accepted her tragic existence. No point in fighting it. She couldn't exactly request a steak dinner and a glass of wine.

So instead of crying like an actual baby, she simply gave in and latched on, beginning her daily dose of suffering.

Lilith gasped in delight. "Oh my! She's not even crying anymore!"

Her father, ever the romantic fool, grinned. "Of course! Why would she cry when the milk are from my beautiful wife?"

Lyrasia internally gagged.

'Disgusting.'

Such blasphemy. Such heinous public displays of affection.

Couldn't they not flirt and be all lovey-dovey in front of her?!

She was not one for romance or excessive skinship. The idea of people acting mushy and affectionate made her itch.

Back in her past life, while other teenagers were off getting drunk and experiencing heartbreak, she had been grinding away at work, paying zero attention to romance.

No one had ever caught her interest. No one had ever made her heart flutter. She just... wasn't built like that.

Which made her current situation even worse.

She was trapped in a tiny body, unable to escape the constant PDA, all while being force-fed affection like it was a necessity for survival.

Life? Unfair.

God? A comedian.

And Lyrasia?

A prisoner in the house of love.

"Mom, I think you can stop feeding her now."

Ruan's smile was sweet—almost too sweet. Like honey laced with just a hint of poison. Her eyes, however, held a dark glint that should not be present in someone looking at a literal infant.

'Wait a minute.'

Was she... jealous?!

Was she seriously jealous over milk distribution?!

Lyrasia would have screamed, but alas, she had a mouthful of suffering.

Ruan, please. This is just maternal nourishment. This isn't a competition.

And yet—there she was, looking like she had just been personally betrayed by fate.

Sigmund Freud would love to have a word.

This was textbook Oedipus Complex, and quite frankly, concerning. If Ruan was already like this while she was still a baby, Lyrasia dreaded what the future held.

Lilith, blissfully unaware of the psychological horror unfolding, simply giggled and kissed Lyrasia's forehead. "Yes, yes, you can go play with her now."

Play?

What part of this situation made her look like she wanted to play?

Before she could process her fate, another voice mercifully cut in.

"Oh, by the way," Felix casually stepped into the conversation, blissfully ignorant of the jealousy-fueled war brewing in the room. "We're being invited by the village head for dinner."

'Huh?'

Lyrasia blinked.

Right. Her family was kind of a big deal in the village. They produced grains that kept the community fed and, in theory, should've made them pretty well off. Yet, despite this, they weren't exactly swimming in riches.

It was like running a buffet but never getting to eat the best dishes yourself. Something wasn't adding up.

"O-Oh my! What does Sir Telio want from us?" her mother, Lilith, gasped.

"Well, something went wrong with the production of our goods lately," her father, Felix, said with an air of mystery, "but I was able to fix it."

"My love..."

Then, they kissed.

Ruan, in an act of pure sisterly trauma prevention, immediately shielded Lyrasia's innocent baby eyes.

'Ugh, adults...' Lyrasia grumbled internally.

As if her soul wasn't already weary from this world, she had to witness unsolicited displays of affection. She may have been mentally 31, but she was also a proud member of the uninitiated club. A card-carrying, lifelong virgin.

Somehow, the pain was immeasurable.

Hours later, the embarrassment died down, and the family dressed appropriately for their dinner invitation.

The village head's house was perched on the highest hill in the village—a subtle yet undeniable flex. Unlike the small wooden homes scattered across the land, his house was made of stone (which, in a village like this, meant serious wealth). It had a tiled roof, glass windows, and a fancy wooden door with a carved emblem of wheat and a balance scale—symbolizing prosperity and fairness.

Or at least, what was supposed to be fairness.

A small garden surrounded the property, but unlike the simple vegetable patches in the village, these were clearly decorative, full of imported flowers and a fountain that served no functional purpose.

Lyrasia squinted.

'No wonder we're not getting richer. Someone's eating our money.'

She was starting to get a bad feeling about this dinner.