Chapter 228: Troubling Women
Early morning.
The sun had only just woken up.
The mansion’s grand hall was covered in sunlight.
Adira Crowe sat with her long legs crossed, clothed in a silky black robe that glistened like oil under the light. Her maids surrounded her in silence, one of them gently dabbing a soft layer of foundation onto her porcelain skin, while another trimmed and shaped her sharp brows.
Standing across from her, however, weren’t her usual trained security professionals. No, these men wore black suits with crumpled collars, creased knuckles, and boots stained from back-alley chases and backdoor deals.
Hired muscle. Killers.
Adira let out a long, unamused sigh.
"So you’re telling me..."
She slowly bit her lip as her voice grew sharper.
"You still haven’t found that useless Amalie..."
Her light blue eyes froze up.
"... and also have no leads on who Nightwatch gave the stolen data to?"
The hitmen didn’t speak immediately.
They felt so uncomfortable.
Even the maids paused with their brushes mid-air.
One of the men stepped forward and bowed.
"Well, uhm... apologies, madam. We’ve searched every known corner of Meteor City for Amalie Andersen. As for the data... it’s likely in the hands of Commissioner Lisbon."
Another nodded quickly, not daring to raise his eyes.
"Yes, ma’am. Ever since the leak, the MCPD’s been dismantling your metasapien trafficking cells one by one. They’ve also begun moving the enhanced children into federal rehab centers under military escort. We believe Lisbon’s behind the crackdown."
Adira tilted her head back slightly, allowing one of the maids to carefully trace a streak of jet-black lipstick across her thin, rose-tinted lips.
"I’m aware of that..."
She sounded very calm.
"But my question is..."
She paused as her maids blotted her lips.
"If you know who Nightwatch gave the data to, then why isn’t she dead?"
There was silence.
The hitmen froze like statues, then immediately bowed their heads even lower.
"She’s gone completely off-grid. Our sources say she’s directing the MCPD remotely, possibly from outside the city. We’ve lost track of her entirely."
"W... We’re deeply sorry, Madam Crowe!"
"YE-YES──!!"
Adira raised a hand, signaling her maid to pause.
She pressed her lips together, spreading the lipstick evenly across her mouth.
She looked gorgeous.
Terrifying. Beautiful like a venomous orchid.
Then she spoke.
"It’s fine..."
That was quite gentle.
"Untalented people will always be limited by their lack of ability. I suppose this is the best you can do."
For a second, the hitmen sighed—until they caught the threat in her eyes.
That wasn’t a compliment.
That was her letting them know that they were already dead men walking.
One of them panicked.
"I... I’ll find her, Madam Crowe. Please—just a little more time to work—"
Adira chuckled with zero interest.
"A bit of time?"
She repeated as her long lashes blinked slowly.
She leaned forward on her chair as her meaty, toned thighs pressed against each other.
"In a bit of time..."
She repeated it again.
Maybe they’d realize how stupid they sound.
"Lisbon could shut down more of my hidden facilities... in a bit of time, she could unmask every single member of the Black Mechanica Organization... in a bit of time, she could reverse-engineer the blue drugs and figure out exactly what we’ve been doing to those children..."
Her voice never spiked.
She was always elegant
And yet the warmth of the room dried out—now it almost felt like a cold room.
"You stand there and tell me you need more time?"
Silently, she stared at them and waited.
Not for an answer—because any answer was wrong.
They sweated.
One of them feverishly pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his forehead.
Another looked like he wanted to cry.
"W... We apologize..."
That was all they could say.
Nina just stood behind Adira, saying nothing.
Adira sighed and leaned back again.
She waved one of her manicured fingers for her maid to resume the lipstick.
"I would’ve hired Grave for this, but he’s already on another contract... apparently, he knows our notorious Nightwatch’s identity. But he’s keeping it to himself—probably wants the glory of killing him personally."
She waved at the hitmen with a sharp glare.
"You’re dismissed."
They left like rats.
Rats that knew the cat had already marked them.
As the doors closed, Nina stepped forward and handed her a black phone.
"Madam Crowe... a call just came in."
Adira accepted it lazily as she placed it to her ear.
The moment she heard the voice on the other end, her face twisted slightly in annoyance.
"What is it now, Fitzgerald?"
The voice of Ceral Fitzgerald was impatient.
"You salvaged your rep by bringing Brigid back, but you better start showing results with Division F. The higher-ups are already debating whether or not to silence you. This might be your last rope, Adira dear."
Adira ended the call with one tap.
"Noted..."
It didn’t surprise her at all.
Honestly, if she were in their shoes, she would’ve done the same thing.
First, all her data got stolen by Nightwatch.
Then she lost Brigid.
After that, she even went as far as using the red technophage to try and get Brigid back—but that failed too.
Black Mechanica weren’t known to forgive... so this was definitely her final strike.
She stood and adjusted her luxurious black coat.
"Nina..."
She spoke without looking back.
"Get Brigid from her room. We’re heading to the lab in District Five."
"Yes, ma’am."
The mansion instantly moved into motion.
Maids rushed to follow.
Menservants sprinted ahead to prepare the Rolls-Royce.
The Crowe household was never still when Adira walked.
━ ━ ━ ━
Meanwhile, back at the hotel—
Scott lay on the bed like a corpse.
Arms and legs spread wide, eyes glued to the ceiling.
"No luck on either side..."
He sighed heavily enough to age him ten years.
He was supposed to be in Meteor City helping Brigid with her SMPE week...and maybe chasing down leads on Cat Lady and all the tech she’d been stealing.
But so far, it was just one brick wall after another.
Then—
BRANG! BRAANG! BRAAAANG!!
His phone was screaming again.
Groaning like a toddler forced out of bed, he blindly slapped around for the device.
"Hello...?"
His voice was dreadfully dry.
"You’re seriously doing this to me again──!?"
Scott’s eyes widened.
This was Nadia’s voice.
He immediately sat up straight.
He slapped her on loudspeaker and frantically scrolled through his call logs.
"I’ve been calling you since 7 a.m.! You think it’s okay to ignore sixty-two damn calls!? I’ve been sitting in this bougie-ass cafe for four hours and the waiters are starting to think I’m a lonely rich lady who’s been stood up!"
Scott stared at the screen. Sixty-two missed calls.
『Holy—』
He clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from screaming.
Then jumped off the bed like a man on fire.
Meanwhile, Nadia kept going.
"I know you’re this big-shot hero everyone needs, but if you make plans with a girl, don’t treat her like a call girl waiting on your clock! You’re not paying me to be here. I’ve been hit on by eight different guys and they’re all carrying that smug ’I just smelled vulnerability’ aura!"
SLAM!
Nadia banged a table over the phone.
"ARE YOU THERE──!? (๑•̀д•́๑)"
Scott flinched.
It was almost like she was crashing out in person.
『Damn it──she’s mad!』
He was already halfway into a clean pair of boxers while hopping around trying to pull on jeans.
"Uhhh—I’m sorry! I was having, uh, an infection! Had to run to the pharmacist to—"
"Oh, piss off!"
She cut him short.
"That’s a load of crap! Emma’s a sex-crazed woman who could get a doctorate in four weeks if she wasn’t so busy being a superhero—and you? Please. You could build a self-cleaning bacteria bot in your sleep."
Scott winced. She wasn’t wrong.
He zipped up and grabbed a fresh shirt.
"Okay, okay—you got me... (￢_￢)" he muttered.
Nadia’s voice softened slightly.
Still annoyed, but less nuclear.
"Just get here, alright? I dropped a grand on this table and I’ve got a lot to talk about... please?"
There it was—that subtle note of vulnerability.
Not desperation... but close enough to make anyone feel bad about standing her up.
Scott took a deep breath and nodded to himself.
"I’ll be there. Promise."
"I hope so..."
The call ended.
Scott sighed, slapped his cheeks, and muttered—
"Okay. Let’s go fix the hell I just made."
━ ━ ━ ━
Irina sat curled up on one end of her massive L-shaped sofa, barefoot, wrapped in a silk robe that looked like it cost more than a politician’s bribe. Her snow-white hair was loosely tied up, makeup from yesterday still faintly clinging under her tired eyes.
In her hand was her phone, screen dim, but still showing Scott — mobile.
She hadn’t called. She hadn’t even texted.
She just kept staring.
Thinking. Re-thinking. Doubting.
Then overthinking the doubt.
And it had been almost a full hour now.
From the other end of the penthouse, her team was quietly watching her like she was some wild animal you didn’t want to spook.
"Is Miss Golovin alright?"
One assistant whispered to Sasha, who stood near the open kitchen, arms crossed.
"I... I really don’t know..."
One replied, nervously twiddling with her tablet.
"She’s been like this ever since she came back from that party yesterday. The one with the Algerian investors. I don’t think those men said anything inappropriate... or maybe they did and it got her mad...?"
Someone else frowned—
"That can’t be it. That meeting went great. We locked in the full package deal—funds, licensing, all of it. She’s been like this since she got off the stage at the presentation. I was right there. It was like her soul just... walked out."
The whole group went quiet after that.
No one wanted to say it, but they were worried.
Irina Golovin not eating, not sleeping, not speaking.
That was basically the unexaggerated equivalent of the stock market crashing.
Meanwhile, Irina kept staring at the screen.
Her mind cried with guilt she couldn’t prove and paranoia she couldn’t shake.
『Did I do something wrong? I don’t think I did... I was even careful not to text him until we met in person again—just so I wouldn’t seem desperate. I even got the best super suit I could... tried to make an impression. Why do things fall apart when I try? Do I just call him and ask? Or maybe... maybe he saw a bad headline about me. Maybe he just... stopped liking me overnight. That happens, right?』
She curled deeper into the sofa like she was trying to vanish between the cushions. Her thumb hovered over the call button, trembled slightly... then froze.
"No, no, no..."
She mumbled, rubbing her forehead like she had ants crawling inside.
"I can’t call him yet. I need to... find a way to meet him in person first. Ughhh, I don’t need to be at SMPE today anyway... and there’s still the photoshoot at that luxury car brand, and the video game ad later tonight—"
She sighed and dragged a palm down her face.
Still clutching a cup of coffee like it was the only thing keeping her from a breakdown, Sasha stood silently by the expensive marble island.
Then, a familiar voice came from behind.
"She’s still like that, eh...?"
Sasha turned.
It was Pulsar—still suited up, but hair was quite messy.
She hadn’t been doing anything as Maya Rivera lately.
Probably because she didn’t have to.
She was too occupied with brand sponsorships and late-night talkshow appearances.
Sasha nodded, speaking quietly.
"She won’t say what’s wrong. And you know her—if she doesn’t want to talk, there’s nothing we can do. But... I’ve never seen her like this. I just hope it doesn’t mess up her schedule for the day. She was supposed to leave for the shoot an hour ago and then stream after. She’s never been so unprofessional. Not once."
She took another sip of her coffee and frowned.
Pulsar walked past them and made her way toward Irina, who looked like an overworked porcelain doll.
She stood in front of her, arms folded.
"Irina?"
No response. Not even a blink.
Pulsar’s jaw ticked. "Did you hear me? Irina?"
Still nothing. She was locked in.
Staring at the same contact like it would blink first.
Pulsar squinted and tried again, this time with a forced smile and a fake cheer in her voice.
"Iriiiina~"
"What?"
Irina finally muttered.
She sounded like Pulsar was a nuisance.
Pulsar gave a tight smile.
"Why are you like this? What happened?"
Irina exhaled slowly, barely blinking.
"I let a guy pee in my mouth. I swallowed it. And now he’s ghosting me like I don’t even exist."
The room turned into a vacuum.
Sasha actually choked on air.
One of the stylists dropped her phone.
Someone else muttered a faint "ehn?"
Pulsar raised a brow.
"Wait. You let a guy do what in your mouth?"
Irina blinked. Then blinked again.
Her soul flew back into her body like someone hit the panic button.
She jumped off the couch.
"NO—NO! NOTHING! I WAS JOKING! (>///<)"
She frantically waved her sylph-like hands like she could erase sound waves.
Her pale cheeks were burning red.
She turned to her team.
"I SWEAR IT’S A JOKE—"
Sasha gently put her coffee down and looked at her like a disappointed mother.
"I... didn’t know you had that kind of fetish..."
"I DON’T!!"
Irina turned desperately to Pulsar.
"Maya, back me up here!!"
But Pulsar just gave her a sheepish shrug.
"Even I wouldn’t let a guy do that."
Her face turned a bit guilty.
『I mean, if Scott asked though... (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)✧』
Irina collapsed face-first onto the couch with a muffled scream of pure embarrassment.
"Everything sucks... (╥﹏╥)"
━ ━ ━ ━
Meanwhile...
It was already past noon.
Scott was dressed fresh, wearing a crisp black tee and jeans, while Marcus sat sprawled across the hotel’s velvet sofa playing Burgnite on the 80-inch TV.
Every few seconds, neon explosions lit up the room.
Scott grabbed his keys and adjusted his watch.
"Alright. I’m heading out. We should probably start making plans to go back to Metro City soon. Emma’s gonna fry us both if she finds out you’re skipping school again."
Marcus paused the game and looked up with a grin.
"Yeah... Hey, Big Bro?"
Scott turned. "Hm?"
Marcus smiled warmly.
"I don’t have siblings. Or many friends, really. But I’m glad you’re dating my aunt. You’re the best guy for her... and honestly, you feel like a big brother to me."
Scott blinked. His chest tightened just a bit.
"I... thanks, man..."
He said with a soft smile.
Marcus grinned and unpaused the game.
Scott headed for the door, stepping into the hallway.
As he strolled, his phone buzzed. He glanced down.
Nadia.
He picked up, smiling.
"Don’t worry, I’m dressed. I’ll even grab you a little gift on the way—"
Nadia’s voice came through.
"Uhhh, you really don’t have to. It’s not a date, young man. We’re having a serious conversation. So don’t get ahead of yourself."
There was some sweetness in her voice.
Scott chuckled. "Are you flirting with me?"
She gasped.
"You don’t have to make it obvious! (ﾉ≧∇≦)ﾉ"
And then she hung up.
Scott grinned and slipped the phone back in his pocket.
But before he could take three more steps, it rang again.
This time, it was Jake.
He answered immediately. "Yeah, man. What’s up?"
Jake’s voice came through loud and frantic.
"SCOTT—BRIGID’S IN DANGER!!"
Scott’s entire body froze.
"Wait... huh?"
"I pieced it all together! Division F, the meta trafficking cells in Meteor City, those blue drugs, and the real reason why Brigid is so important to them!"
There was urgency in how Jake spoke.
Scott knew he had to drop all his plans
"I... shit..."