Plan C

Two days had elapsed, and still, there was no sign of Shadow Garden. In fact, things were relatively peaceful as far as bandit camps go. Sherry had to consider the possibility that Shadow Garden wasn't even aware of this hideout.

Cooped up in her cage, Sherry had long ago reverted to her regular, petite form. Her cloaked attire, despite suffering a torn left sleeve, continued to serve its purpose. Most of her time was spent in an awkward sprawl, her legs cramped against the mesh of her prison. Occasionally, whatever shaft of sunlight that managed to seep through the cage's coverings would refract off her crystal earring, casting fleeting rainbows on the dull interior.

To pass the time, Sherry tinkered with the Artifact of Chameleon, the pendant that had been instrumental in her journey so far. Based on her research so far, Chameleon worked by infusing magic refuse into cells so that they bloat and alter shape. When she'd managed to use Chameleon to extend her nose, it was a task that had required precision and knowledge of the artifact's intricate circuitry. However, emulating demonic possession was far simpler, requiring only a vague application of magic for a vague shape. And to return to normal, one would simply cease using the thing. The residual magic would then naturally dissipate restoring the cells back to their proper shape.

Lost in her contemplation, Sherry mulled over a fascinating theory. If it was this easy to imitate demonic possession with Chameleon, could the actual phenomenon work on similar principles? That is, let's say, magic – from somewhere – is constantly being injected into the victim's cells? That or perhaps the magic is not being dispelled correctly? Not to sound like a mad scientist but if Sherry had access to live specimens, using Chameleon on them could be quite revelatory... Wait a minute, wasn't she on a mission to infiltrate a place teeming with-?

Her train of thought was cut short as voices began to drift in from outside the carriage. Sherry's ears perked up, listening for any information that could be useful to her.

"...wants her...two days..." "...Who?" "...don't ask."

Two more days?! "That's too long!" Sherry groaned.

She had a backup plan, and a backup plan after that, although the latter was more of a last resort.

No, for now she simply had to force an encounter with Shadow Garden. Taking a deep breath, she called out, "Hey, there's a Mitsugoshi caravan nearby!"

Silence.

Indeed, Sherry knew that Mitsugoshi was a Shadow Garden front. Simply put: Shadow Garden members, Mitsugoshi employees, and even victims of demonic possession were all female. In a world that loved to convince itself that demonic possession was incurable, Sherry had found the loophole during her research. Victims were cured, recruited into Shadow Garden, and then put to work in Mitsugoshi. It was less of a vicious cycle and more of a business model, really.

"I said, Mitsugoshi is nearby!" she repeated, louder this time. She's studied their routes for this moment.

A few bandits approached the rear of her carriage, curious. The bandit leader's loud footsteps could be heard. Sherry hyper-evolved her arm once more, larger this time to show progression of her fake disease.

"You're still sane, huh?" he remarked, pulling the veil off her cage.

Their gazes locked, and Sherry sheepishly tried waving at him with her grotesque arm. The boss gave a small wave back.

The man sighed, "Why tell us that?"

She swallowed, her throat dry. "They carry valuable stuff."

"We know that, but we also know better than to cross paths with Mitsugoshi," he looked at Sherry as though she were mad. "The Four Clovers tried it recently, and no one ever heard back from them."

Desperation clawed at her.

"I- I used to work for them!" she blurted. The man looked on. "Yeah, yeah, that's right! I did, and I know the schedule like the back of my freakishly enlarged hand!" she waves. "I know where they're weak."

The bandit leader considered her for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"I just want to be helpful" Sherry gave the boss a soft, coy smile.

The boss's mood lightened a bit. "What do you have against Mitsugoshi?" he still felt compelled to ask.

"They denied my parents' pension." Sherry's expression suddenly turned dark.

Slight confusion rippled across a few of the bandits, but her determination was clear. The boss shrugged, "I guess it's worth a shot."

Sherry rejoiced internally.