Upon hearing Asher’s words, Rachel voiced her concerns, her eyes darting anxiously, “About that… Since you stirred up trouble with Bernard, he’s bound to run to my father with tales. Once he learns I vouched for an unknown, he’ll never stand by my decision.”

Asher, however, was the picture of calm, a stark contrast to Rachel’s fretful demeanor. He smiled, a hint of mischief playing across his lips, “Why don’t you go along and let me worry about whatever happens after. In the worst case, do as I say…” Asher briefly explained what Rachel should do.

Rachel’s brow furrowed in puzzlement, her mind a whirlwind of questions. Yet, his confidence was infectious, easing her worries, “Okay. But you can’t stay here. I’ve arranged other accommodations for you and your…slave.”

“I don’t know about him, but I refuse to reside in a place that falls below my standards,” It was then Rebecca chose to re-enter, her presence as heavy as her disdain was palpable, fixing Rachel with a sharp look.

Before Rachel could say anything, Asher’s response was quick, laced with the same unflappable confidence, “Your place? A pet doesn’t get to have its own place. It stays where its master stays,” he said, the smirk on his face widening at Rebecca’s visible annoyance.

“Urgh!” Rebecca’s response was a frustrated grunt as she turned on her heel, exiting the room with as much dignity as she could muster under that bastard’s mocking gaze.

‘A pet?!’ She touched the choker on her neck and wondered how long she would have to endure this humiliation. But the thought of staying in the same room as him for their time in this world made her heart pound against her chest, wondering what vile things he was planning to do to her?

—

In the center of the magnificent building of the WHA, where the walls echoed with the silent whispers of the elite, the grand office of the President stood as a fortress of authority, its entrance flanked by twenty elite armored guards, their discipline impressive and their presence intimidating.

Wearing a blend of blue and silver armor, each and every one of them was a peak S Rank Hunter, chosen from the best of the best to guard and protect the President.

This elite unit was called the Vanguard Corps, and nothing ever missed their sharp eyes.

Inside, the office was vast enough to accommodate a hundred people.

However, behind the large, imposing desk, a man with a majestic presence, the embodiment of leadership and protector of the word in the eyes of all, sifted through digital documents on his tablet, his focus absolute. His blue hair, a unique shade that had become synonymous with his identity, caught the sunlight through the large borderless windows and shimmered. His chiseled jaw, complemented by a perfectly groomed mustache, gave him an air of both regality and authority. His voice, a blend of command and inquisition, cut through the silence without taking his eyes off the tablet, “So far, you’ve outlined the usual developments. But have you finalized the onboarding for Project Mars, Lenny?” His gaze, sharp and assessing, settled on the figure before him.

Lenny, with his early forties gracefully adorning his slim build and average height, was seated with an air of confidence.

His good looks, accented by gray eyes gleaming with a hint of slyness, belied the depth of his involvement. A smooth smile played on his lips as he responded, “Of course, it’s almost completed, Derek. But…” His demeanor shifted, a serious veil falling over his previously light tone, “I’ve come to discuss a matter that’s troubled me for quite some time.”

Derek’s reaction was nonchalant, a casual wave of his hand dismissing Lenny’s concern as he returned his attention to the tablet, “Lenny, I’ve told you before, your issues are your own to manage. As long as they don’t interfere with our project or the WHA, they’re of no concern to me. Handle it. You are the Supreme Commander, after all.”

A sigh of frustration escaped Lenny, his usual composure straining under the weight of his concerns, “I understand, and I wouldn’t bring it up if it were within my power to resolve alone. But there’s a cult,” his voice lowered, the words heavy with implication, “that’s not only responsible for Samuel’s death but is actively targeting specific guilds—those essential in keeping our operations discreet.”

At this, Derek’s demeanor shifted, the previous detachment evaporating as a frown creased his brow. The tablet was abandoned, his full attention now on Lenny, his eyes intense with a newly kindled fire, “How long has this been happening?”

With a wince, Lenny confessed, “For the last…three or four years.”

Derek’s response was a mixture of disbelief and stern command, “And you choose now to tell me? I appointed you as the Supreme Commander to ensure that I’m the first to know of such developments so that I can handle it before things get worse.”

Lenny shrank his head as he said, “At that time, you were too busy establishing our project’s initial development. I just didn’t want to disturb you for something I thought I could handle on my own.”

“You thought that for all those years? You not only did not handle it, but you covered it up, even from me. Otherwise, I would have known about it. Did I make a mistake appointing you, Lenny?” His bright blue eyes, usually calm seas, now stormed with disappointment and cold anger, fixating on Lenny with an intensity that demanded truth.

Lenny, caught in the tempest, reacted with a mix of desperation and defiance. His hands, raised in a gesture of frantic explanation, trembled slightly, “Of course not, Derek. You know me. No matter how much I ** up, I get things done in the end to your satisfaction, just like all those times, especially taking ‘him’ down.”

Derek’s response was a silent, scrutinizing stare, his posture fixed.

After a moment, his voice, calm yet laced with authority, broke the silence, “Start by naming this cult and their master.”

“The Coven of the Damned,” Lenny replied, his frustration seeping through his words, a stark contrast to the cold control of Derek’s inquiry.

Derek repeated the name, a frown etching deeper lines into his forehead, “The Coven of the Damned? That name does sound familiar,” he mused aloud, a mixture of skepticism and curiosity in his voice.

Lenny, seizing the moment, elaborated with a growing intensity, “At first, I thought they were just a nobody cult since my people told me the cult was small, and they only picked on those insignificant Emerging Tier guilds at first and even some cults. This made me wonder if they were just a dumb cult with no sense of purpose and that Samuel’s death could have been some weird coincidence. But…” “But what?” Derek asked, his frown still present.

“That was what I thought until they started to climb up in threat level by bringing down Recognized Guilds, and then Prominent Guilds! I am sure they must be planning to go after Elite Tier Guilds under us next. But in these few years, they were running their operation, and I figured out their pattern. Other than some cults, the guilds they took down were connected to only those who survived that ‘day’…including us. Lena is equally pissed,” Lenny said with a grim look. Derek’s frown deepened, the revelation striking a chord of disbelief and concern in his eyes, “Are you really sure about this pattern because what you are suggesting is…not only absurd but implausible.” With a jaw clenched in conviction, Lenny insisted, “I can’t be wrong about what I deciphered over the last few years unless it is all a big **ing coincidence. Even if we took care of all ‘his’ friends, we still haven’t been able to get the one holed up in Russia. We only got his bitch sister, who almost got me and my men. Last time I heard, that Russian **er was building his strength and probably plotting to try and take us down again. Maybe this cult must have something to do with him. A bargain with the master of that cult, perhaps?” Derek shook his head, a gesture of dismissal mingled with caution, “He can’t do anything here on his own. I have made enough preparations to make sure none of his people can do anything dangerous here without us knowing.”

“Then why would the demon who created this cult be targeting our guilds? I still have yet to know who their master is since they are so **ing slippery. As if things aren’t already worse, I heard that the leader of the cult who calls herself Huntress is a **ing peak S Ranker and a very powerful one at that. No wonder Samuel died against her. Can you believe that? Which demon in their right mind would invest so much in such a powerful one instead of creating an army strong enough to take down an entire city?” Lenny asked with a baffled look.

Derek’s eyes solidified with a cold calm, “A very powerful one. One with so many life crystals to spare and powerful enough to recover their losses gradually.”

Lenny’s jaw slacked as his mind raced to guess who it was while Derek added as he rested his chin against his hands, “And the reason this demon invested so much on a single Hunter must be because they aren’t planning to harvest as many souls as possible but for a targeted attack on someone or something…perhaps us.”

“Huh!…” Lenny’s eyes widened as his heart tensed up.