Chromie Venture

When Deren walked out of the room, Chromie was sprawled over the table studying an explosive formula, while Onyxia leaned against the window, idly playing with a wisp of Black Flame at her fingertips.

"Morning, you two." Deren greeted them lazily.

Chromie waved without looking up. "Morning... wait?!" She suddenly raised her head, her huge gnomish eyes going round. "You... who are you?!"

Onyxia's dragon eyes abruptly narrowed, and the Black Flame went out with a puff. She stared fixedly at Deren, as if she were truly seeing this human for the first time.

Deren tilted his head. "What's wrong? You don't recognize me after one night's sleep?"

Chromie jumped down from her chair and circled Deren twice, her nose twitching. "Something's off... very off..."

Onyxia slowly approached. Her slender fingers suddenly gripped Deren's chin, forcing him to raise his head. Her dragon eyes glimmered faintly, as though she were examining him by some draconic method.

"You..." Her voice was low and dangerous. "There's something on you."

Deren sighed helplessly, gently pushed her hand away, and then—

Pointed at the ground beneath his feet.

The two dragons: "...?"

Deren made a gesture of covering his mouth, then pointed to the ground again.

Chromie and Onyxia exchanged a glance. At first, they were baffled, but then their pupils widened at the same time—

Azeroth!

Inside the room, the three of them—or rather, one human and two dragons—tacitly avoided mentioning a certain unspeakable presence.

Onyxia stood by the fireplace, a tuft of Black Flame burning at her fingertips as she precisely controlled the heat to brew tea. Her movements were elegant and practiced, like those of a true noble lady rather than a Black Dragon Princess capable of burning down an entire city. The water in the teapot bubbled away, releasing a faint fragrance.

Chromie sat cross-legged on the sofa, her two short little legs dangling well above the floor. She pulled an exquisite pastry box from a Time Rift. When she lifted the lid, more than a dozen star-speckled pastries were neatly arranged inside.

"Caverns of Time exclusive!" she declared proudly. "Stolen... ahem, borrowed from Suramar ten thousand years ago."

Deren leaned over and curiously poked one of them—the pastry's surface immediately rippled with waves of time.

"This thing won't send me through time if I eat it, right?" he asked half-jokingly.

Chromie rolled her eyes. "At most, it'll let you see what happened ten minutes ago—oh, except for that one." She pointed to a dark purple pastry in the corner. "That one was swiped from Queen Azshara's afternoon tea party. Eating it might make you grow tentacles."

Onyxia came over carrying the tea set, her dragon tail casually brushing across Deren's calf with neither too much nor too little force, like both a warning and a reminder. She poured everyone a cup of tea. The brew was a bizarre dark red, with several scale-like crystals floating on its surface.

"Drink," she said, narrowing her eyes. "It's good for the lungs."

Deren stared at the teacup, then looked at the suspicious pastries in Chromie's hand, and suddenly felt that his "fertilizer" plan seemed exceptionally safe by comparison.

The three quietly enjoyed their tea and pastries, and the atmosphere was strangely harmonious. Until—

Deren set down his teacup and cleared his throat. "All right, business."

He pulled a crumpled list from his clothes, densely packed with procurement items: ammonium nitrate materials, sulfur, aluminum powder, specialized containers... At the bottom was a bold estimate—a sum grand enough to fantasize about buying half of Stormwind City.

Chromie's pastry plopped onto her lap. "Are you insane?!"

Onyxia's dragon eyes narrowed slightly. "My treasury is nearly empty."

Deren gave an innocently harmless smile. "So, we need a new investor." His gaze slowly shifted to Chromie. "For example, a certain Bronze Dragon who oversees the Timeline?"

Chromie clutched her Hourglass Staff tightly, ready to flee at any moment, her little face scrunched into a ball. "No way! Absolutely not!"

She glared at Deren, her twin golden ponytails bristling in anger. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to save up the Caverns of Time treasury?! I've been saving those gold coins since ten thousand years ago!"

Deren sighed and turned to Onyxia. "Your little sister is really stingy."

Onyxia sneered. "She isn't my sister."

Chromie said, "Who's your sister?!"

Deren spread his hands. "See? Such deep sisterly affection."

Both dragons glared at him at once, their Dragon Awe nearly blowing the roof off.

Unhurried, Deren pulled out a Stone Tablet and drew a crude flowchart on it:

Invest in ammonium nitrate → blow up Deathwing → world peace

World peace → Bronze Dragons don't have to work overtime → Chromie can go on vacation every day

Chromie stared at the Stone Tablet, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Do you think I'm a three-year-old whelp? Such simplistic logic—"

Deren suddenly snapped his fingers. "Imagine the future you."

His voice dropped, carrying a strange, seductive force. "No Timeline rifts to repair, no apocalyptic prophecies to monitor, no heroes to guide..."

Chromie's pupils widened slightly.

"Just sunshine, beaches, barbecues..." Deren said softly, "and endless booze and pleasure!"

At that very instant—

Chromie's Hourglass Staff suddenly began to shake violently, the Sand of Time flowing madly. Her eyes shone bronze as countless future scenes flooded into her mind like a tide:

Herself sunbathing on the beach in Tanaan Jungle, with Dwarven Mead piled at her feet

Nozdormu, for once, granting her a thousand-year vacation

There was even a blurry human holding her and feeding her grilled fish...

Thud!

Chromie's legs gave out, and she collapsed to her knees. Her staff clattered down beside her. Her lips trembled, drool trickling embarrassingly from the corner of her mouth. The golden glow of the future vision still lingered in her eyes. She looked like a rag doll that had been thoroughly played with. From deep in her throat came a constant foolish giggle. "Hehe, hehe..."

Onyxia raised an eyebrow. "Looks like she saw something incredible."

With a smile, Deren crouched down and waved a hand before Chromie's eyes. "So? Was this investment worth it?"

Chromie mechanically turned her head, then suddenly grabbed Deren by the collar. "How much do you want?!"

Her eyes shone terrifyingly bright, like a starving wolf spotting a fat sheep.

A few hours later, Chromie stood in the middle of the Stone House in Treasure Bay and waved her tiny hand—

Clatterrr—!

A bronze Time Rift unfurled in midair. Then countless gold coins, gemstones, and magical items poured out like a waterfall, instantly piling into a small mountain.

Deren's mouth slowly fell open.

Onyxia's dragon eyes narrowed slightly. Her fingertips unconsciously brushed an ancient elven gold coin that had fallen by her feet—it was a design from at least eight thousand years ago.

"This..." Deren bent down and picked up a dagger gleaming with Arcane light. "This is an antique from the High Elf era, isn't it?!"

Chromie smugly lifted her little chin. "That's right. I 'borrowed' it from Dath'Remar's private treasury." She kicked a pile of gold coins beside her. "These were minted during the Arathor Empire. There aren't more than a hundred of them left in all of Azeroth."

Looking at the treasure filling the entire warehouse, Deren suddenly felt like a beggar.

Chromie squatted atop the pile of coins, counting with a pained expression. "Thirty thousand, thirty-five thousand, forty thousand..." She looked up at Deren. "Is this enough?"

Deren swallowed. "It's enough to buy all of Treasure Bay..."

Onyxia suddenly gave a cold laugh and hooked a necklace set with Sands of Time from deep within the treasure pile with one dragon claw. "I remember this." Her gaze turned dangerous. "The Tear of Aman'Thul, stolen from Dragonblight Temple three thousand years ago."

Chromie's little face went pale in an instant. She snatched the necklace back and stuffed it into the Time Rift. "You saw wrong! It's a fake!"

Deren rubbed his forehead. "So the Bronze Dragons' so-called 'protection of the Timeline' is really just stealing things everywhere?"

"This is called 'historical relic preservation'!" Chromie retorted indignantly. "They'd only be destroyed by war if left where they were, so I might as well—"

"—Keep them for yourself?" Onyxia raised an eyebrow.

Chromie: "...That's right!"

After three hours of inventory, the final tally made Deren's legs go weak:

Gold coins: 478,000 (currencies from 7 lost civilizations)

Magical gemstones: 322 (including 3 suspected Titan creations)

Epic equipment: 54 pieces (12 of which were recorded in history books as destroyed)

Miscellaneous items: including but not limited to Queen Azshara's comb, Medivh's spare staff, and a small bottle labeled "Arthas's Childhood Baby Teeth"

Chromie hugged the last collectible—a singing night elf Music Box—with a heartbroken expression. "This one can't be sold! It was Tyrande's childhood toy!"

Deren: "...You even stole that?!"

Chromie: "I told you, I'm keeping it safe!"

"Put it away, put it away! From now on, you're my chief financial officer." Deren bent down and patted Chromie's little shoulder. Then he pinched his chin and said slyly, "Maybe we don't necessarily need that much money. You know, knowledge is money. We might even be able to bring in plenty of Kael'thases to invest."

Watching Deren ponder which gullible fool to swindle for money, the two female dragons suddenly felt incredibly lucky to be on his side.

Morning sunlight fell outside the Stone House in Treasure Bay, where a brand-new copper sign gleamed brightly:

The Barrens Agricultural Development Company · Treasure Bay Branch

Main Services: High-Efficiency Fertilizer | Soil Improvement | Pest Control (Physical)

Onyxia crossed her arms and stared at the sign, her dragon eyes narrowing slightly. "'Pest Control (Physical)'?"

Deren brushed the wood chips from his hands and nodded in satisfaction. "It means exactly what it says—solving pest problems through physical means." He made an exploding gesture. "Boom! No more pests."

Standing on tiptoe, Chromie tried to wipe away Goblin graffiti in the corner of the sign—a crooked manure drawing. "I still can't believe we're actually starting a company..."

"It's called commercial cover." Deren took out a seal and stamped "Grand Opening" onto the doorframe. "Now we can openly purchase raw materials. The Goblins will only think we're gullible fools in the agriculture business."

Inside, Deren spread out a map and pointed at the Swamp of Sorrows. "Now that the funding is in place and the supply channels are open, it's time to move the production line back to your lair."

Onyxia's tail lightly tapped the floor. "The risk is too great. If my father's lackeys find out—"

"It's fine. We're a legitimate company. Everything we purchase and produce is related to Fertilizer. Do you think your family's underlings have the brains to discover the ultimate secret of chemical Fertilizer? Would they be willing to investigate those foul-smelling Ammonia Water ingredients? Or taste some Ammonium Nitrate?" Deren said contemptuously.

At the thought of the horrifying process used to produce Ammonia Water, the Black Dragon shook her head like a rattle drum.

"But the goods need to be transferred through Theramore." Deren cut her off, drawing a shipping route with his finger. "All supplies will first be sent to Jaina's territory, then we'll find a way to transport them into the swamp." He looked at Chromie. "That's where our 'chief financial officer' comes in."

Chromie pursed her lips. "Why do I have to deal with those stinking Goblin merchants?"

"Because you can open a Time Rift and run away whenever you want. More importantly, Theramore has the favored daughter of heaven, Lady Jaina. She isn't friendly toward Black Dragons. And she looks down even more on drifters like me." Deren said with a smile. "Besides—" He pulled out a bag of gold and shook it. "Business meals and entertainment, fully reimbursed."

Chromie's ears perked up.

Ten minutes later, "Ms. Chromie" emerged freshly made, wearing round glasses and a refined gnome business suit. She awkwardly tugged at her tie. "These clothes are tight enough to kill me..."

Onyxia circled her once, then suddenly reached out and pinched her cheek. "Add a fake smile, and you'll look just like a real crooked merchant."

"Ow! Let go!" Chromie slapped away her claw and angrily pulled out a ledger. "I'm a perfectly legitimate chief financial officer!" She pushed up her glasses, then suddenly put on a sickeningly sweet business smile. "Dear Mr. Goblin, regarding last month's payment..."

Deren and Onyxia both took a step back at the same time—the acting was far too convincing, enough to make their skin crawl.