Chapter 229: Troubling Actions
Scott sat at the far end of the reception hall, quietly tucked into a corner booth. His glasses gleamed faintly as it projected a faint blue light across his eyes as rows of files scrolled down the heads-up display (HUD) within them. He looked like a man trying to read through the future.
He blinked. The page swiped.
He blinked again. Another one.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
He wasn’t just reading. He was absorbing.
Then Jake’s voice filtered through the comms hidden in the frame of his glasses.
[As you probably already know, Adira Crowe has been experimenting on children for a while now. Trying to mutate their genes to perfectly replicate the force-gene that superabled people are born with...]
Scott didn’t flinch, but his brow twitched.
Another file opened like a book in front of him.
It was a thick red-folder icon labeled: Division F.
Jake continued—
[She’s failed more times than we can count, and all that failure led to the creation of Division F—filled with freaks and half-dead mutants who should’ve never been born.]
Scott swiped. The pages flickered past.
One file caught his eye—Subject: EmberLung.
A young boy who could breathe fire... once.
After that, his throat and chest were burned to a crisp.
Another file. Seer Eve.
A girl who could see the future... but paid for every second with months shaved off her life.
Then the next. And the next.
Terrible things were done to these people, all in the name of trying to force them to evolve. Some of them developed powers like regeneration, and because of that, they had their eyes, kidneys, lungs, tongue (even their heart) ripped out, just so the scientists could figure out what part of them carried that specific force-gene.
Regorge. Widow Milk. HoleKeeper.
Names he’d already encountered.
There were thousands of these mutants, and most of them were either missing, dead, or locked away somewhere. The experiments had been going on for years—long before superheroes even became a thing. Adira wasn’t the one who started it all; she simply picked up where others left off. But ever since she took over, she’s made huge breakthroughs and pushed the research further than anyone before her.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Elena Vargas...?"
He leaned back.
"She was in this too?"
Scott lifted a brow.
"Damn, I knew she was linked to Black Mechanica, but this is deeper than I expected...?"
[FOCUS—!!]
Jake shouted as he started tapping away on his side of the interface to bring up more files.
[That’s not why I’m showing you this.]
The HUD started pulling in countless strings of DNA helixes, cross-referenced birth logs, psychic resonance charts, and force-gene markers.
[The force-gene is a natural mutation in metasapiens. It lets their bodies survive catastrophic trauma—childbirth, comas, accidents—and then adapt. That’s how most superpowered awakenings happen.]
They both went silent for a moment.
Scott tilted his head slightly.
"I know that...?"
Jake sighed, annoyed.
[Some detective you are. Did you forget what Brigid’s powers are like? She’s basically the perfect—]
Scott snapped to his feet.
"... oh no."
Heads turned in the reception hall.
Secretaries, bellhops, and two businessmen calmly sipping their espresso stared as Scott stood there like he’d just been hit by lightning.
"Brigid’s psychic powers... if they can artificially implant pseudo force-genes into these subjects and then have her simulate the trauma mentally..."
His voice dropped lower.
"That’s the only way. No physical injuries, no mess, no deaths... just pure, high-accuracy awakenings—guided by her. Like a trigger."
His hands slammed onto the polished table.
The sound echoed.
The receptionist nearly spilled her drink.
Jake let out a long whistle over the comms.
[Bingo.]
Scott slowly sank back down into the chair.
"Brigid probably doesn’t know that’s what Adira plans to use her for. They’re likely going to weaponize those powers when Adira successfully triggers them. And after what Luminyss said about Brigid, it just might work..."
A confused "huh" came from Jake.
[Wait—who’s Luminyss? (๑•̌.•̑๑)]
Scott blinked.
『Oh right. That future’s... gone.』
He shrugged it off.
"Forget it."
He stood up, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked away from the table while the HUD continued to cascade with classified files and data on Division F victims.
━ ━ ━ ━
Meanwhile...
Across the city, the sun was hanging low like a tired spotlight over the golden skyline.
Nadia sat alone in the glass-walled café, tucked beneath a fancy parasol.
Her untouched drink long gone from cold to warm.
Her hands fidgeted near her phone.
She picked up the phone, her thumb shaking as it hovered over the call button. Her eyes were so wide she looked like a startled goblin... and then she suddenly dropped it, like it was made of lava.
『No. No. Don’t bother him again. (￣^￣)』
She slapped her tender cheeks multiple times.
"He’ll come..."
She whispered, trying to believe it.
"He will..."
She leaned forward, chin resting against the edge of the marble table.
Her lashes lowered as she gazed into nothing.
『Still... I’m acting like this is some kind of date. But really, we’re just supposed to talk about what’s going on between me and him—and also about how Emma’s been. I haven’t exactly been the best friend to her lately, have I? All because of some guy.』
She felt like such a hypocrite.
『We literally promised each other that we’d never let a guy come between us, and now look at us. I used to know what color of underwear she wore every day, and now I don’t even know how she’s been this past week.』
She groaned miserably.
"So I really didn’t ask how she’s been this week..."
She chuckled dryly.
"All over a guy. Him."
She sighed so hard it could shake leaves off a tree.
"Hello? Uhm... excuse me?"
She lifted her head—eyes brightening.
Scott?
But it wasn’t.
It was a tall, skinny guy with pale skin and blond hair who wore glasses and a light-colored sweater-vest. He had the look of someone who’d just stepped out of a boring corporate training session—but also like he was constantly worried about something.
"Hi, sorry..."
He chuckled awkwardly.
"I... I... I uhm... I just saw you from over there and thought you were... kinda cute. I was wondering if I could sit and we could talk a bit? Ehe... ehehehe..."
Nadia blinked. Smile gone.
She raised a finger and cut him off mid-sentence.
"Sorry. Trust me, I really don’t wanna be that girl, but I’m here with someone. I’ve told the other five guys the same thing. So... it’s not you."
He laughed nervously.
Rubbed the back of his neck like it was a reflex.
"Right, right. Totally get it. Just—uhm, if you’re here with your boyfriend... where is he?"
She froze.
This made the man panic
"I mean—I didn’t mean it like that. I just... I’ve been sitting there for an hour and didn’t see anyone show up. Not that I’m saying you’re lying or anything—!!"
Nadia’s brown cheeks flushed red.
"I—he doesn’t have to be my boyfriend for me to wait like this, okay?! Don’t make it weird! (＞﹏＜)"
She slammed her fist on the table.
More out of embarrassment than anything else.
"Ahaha, sorry! Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. Just... sounds like maybe it’s one of those unrequited things?"
She paused. The words hit harder than she expected.
"I’ve been there..."
He went on softly.
"Liked someone who just... didn’t like me back. It took a while, but I moved on. I’m glad I did."
Nadia said nothing.
"Anyway... good luck."
He waved and walked away with his order in hand.
Nadia hopelessly slumped back into her chair like her soul had slipped out.
Palms over her face.
Embarrassment hot on her cheeks.
She looked like a teenage girl all over again.
"Why’d he have to be so right...? (╥﹏╥)💢"
She groaned and thunked her forehead repeatedly on the table.
BRAAAANG!
Her phone buzzed to life. Her hand snatched it up before it even finished the first ring.
"HI—!
She froze. Cough. Ahem.
"Uhm... hey. You still coming? (￢_￢)"
Scott’s voice came through—hesitant.
"I... I’m sorry, I won’t. Something urgent came up. I’m really sorry. I know I suck."
The smile dropped from her face like it had never been there to begin with.
"Oh..." she said, barely a whisper. "Why?"
"Something came... I just don’t think I’ll make it."
The line went dead silent.
"Nadia?"
She laughed. A very hollow laugh.
"It’s... fine. I wasn’t even at the café anymore. I’m already home. So—don’t worry."
Scott hesitated. "You sure?"
"Yeah... I am..."
The call ended.
From across the street, Scott lowered his phone and stared at her through the café’s glass. He watched her tuck her hair behind her ear, smile at nothing, and stare at the phone long after the call had ended.
He sighed.
And then turned and walked away.
Jake suddenly spoke into his ear.
[So much for eating that Middle Eastern pumpum...]
Scott rolled his eyes.
"Shut up, dude..."
━ ━ ━ ━
It was finally late at night.
The tired sound of the Rolls-Royce Phantom faded as it rolled into the private driveway of Crowe Manor.
Parked beside other sleek, classic old-money vehicles, the car looked right at home.
Inside the vehicle, Brigid sat hunched with her knees up as she glared at the unholy thing in her hand like it had insulted her mother. It was a dense, dry brick of a nutrient bar, designed for optimal brain stimulation and force-gene concentration.
Whatever that meant.
It felt like chewing drywall.
Across from her, Adira looked pristine and effortlessly regal, her legs crossed, her dark coat wrapped casually around her like it was part of her skin. Nina and the driver sat silently up front, while the faint jazz hum of the onboard audio kept the silence from growing too heavy.
"You’ve done your lab tests for today..."
Adira began in that calm, sweet voice of hers as she glanced down at her glowing smart-tab.
"And we made it just in time for your SMPE presentation. I’ll make a few calls—see if I can get you on a couple of automobile and sporting brand campaigns. Something that really matches your vibe."
She turned gently.
There was a graceful smile on her perfectly painted lips.
"And I see you’ve finished your nutrient bar. Good."
Brigid scowled, mouth still chewing the last rubbery bite.
"It’s shit—!"
Before the words could finish leaving her lips, Adira calmly fished out another bar and handed it over like she’d anticipated it five minutes ago.
Brigid stared at the second bar like it had personally betrayed her.
"You’re trying to kill me."
"Not yet, mhm-mmm~"
Adira replied in her usual cool tone.
"But if I ever do, I promise it won’t be with nutrition."
Brigid let out a dramatic groan and reluctantly snatched the bar. She wasn’t even done chewing the first, but this was her life now.
"It still tastes like brick..."
As the car halted, Nina and the driver both stepped out.
The latter went around to open the back door.
Adira launched into a list of chemical compounds and biotech innovations—maybe that would convince Brigid on how good for it was for the body.
"It’s made of hydra-fused proteins and a huge load of neural-accelerant fibers. Increases psychic output by at least 10.3% if you ingest it daily. The bar might be dense, but it’s layered with force-conductive nutrients and tailored to your genome markers—"
Brigid helplessly dragged herself out of the car and waved her hand lazily.
"Yeah, yeah, sounds fancy. Still don’t like it. It tastes like sawdust. I prefer chicken."
Adira appeared at her side, face expressionless, and gently plucked the nutrient bar from Brigid’s hand. She tore the packaging herself and handed it back.
"Be careful next time..."
She spoke softly.
"You might hurt yourself if you don’t learn to ask for help... even from people you don’t like."
She tucked a few stray strands of Brigid’s hair behind her ear as she smiled—the warmth of her smile was like summer peeking through winter clouds.
Brigid froze a little.
That—was new.
Adira? Smiling like that?
She took the bar wordlessly this time.
"Come."
Adira said, placing a hand on Brigid’s head and guiding her gently.
"Let’s head inside. I’ll have them synthesize some chicken for you tomorrow. You’ve earned it."
As they walked toward the mansion, hand in hand, Nina just waited behind with the driver.
The man raised a brow.
"Didn’t know Lady Adira could be so... well, to think she had such a weakness for kids."
Nina smiled faintly.
"She always did... it’s just that emotional attachments tend to break her."
And with that, she followed them into the house.
･･･
Meanwhile—
Far from the estate, there was a figure crouching atop a neighboring building.
Scott.
He wore a tight black bodysuit that showed off every detail of his well-built body. Over that, he had on a sleek black coat, along with a pair of black fingerless gloves.
He didn’t fidget. He didn’t blink.
He was all focus, all calculation.
He raised a compact military monocular to his eye to zoom in on the front gate of the manor.
In his earpiece, Jake’s voice buzzed in.
[VOILA—! I’m so fucking in. Security grid’s down for a five-minute window. Four guards at the gate. If you cut through the garden path, you’ll hit less resistance until the main entrance.]
Scott nodded. "Understood."
･･･
Back at Crowe Manor—
Servants froze in place, maids whispered in shock, and manservants blinked twice to make sure their eyes weren’t deceiving them. They looked totally shocked—like they’d just seen a ghost or, worse, a dead body dangling from the ceiling
But it was just Adira Crowe in the kitchen.
Wearing an apron.
A frilly one.
And she was humming.
One of the younger maids tiptoed forward.
"Uhm... Madam Crowe? Are you sure you don’t want me to prepare the food?"
Adira didn’t even look up from the chopping board.
Her knife glided through the onions like silk.
"No need. Brigid was a good girl today. I figured I’d reward her myself. Just something warm and filling. Chicken stew, the real kind—not synth-meat."
The staff exchanged glances.
They couldn’t help it. They were smiling.
This was why they hoped for a child in the manor.
Not for the child—but because of what it did to Adira.
It made her human.
･･･
Outside—
The guards at the gate were still in patrol formation, hands on their weapons as they scanned the dark.
Then came the growl of a power bike.
A lone delivery man cruised down the street, wearing a full helmet and a black jacket. The box strapped to the back was plain—no label, no logo. The man hopped off the bike and walked toward the gate like he belonged there.
"Hold up..."
One of the guards said, stepping in his path.
"What’s this—?"
Before he could finish, the package hissed.
Then popped.
FSSSSHHH—!
A thick green vapor exploded outward, swallowing the guards in seconds. They counted and dropped like dominoes, one by one, out cold before they could radio for help.
In Scott’s earpiece, Jake cackled—
[Explosive knockout gas in a box? Classic. Never fails. Helmet filters doing their job?]
Scott nodded once.
"Yep..."
He stepped over the bodies and entered.
･･･
Inside the manor—
Adira stood by the island counter as the food simmered behind her. She adjusted her apron, took off her gloves, and wiped her hands. There was a quiet dignity to the way she carried herself, even while holding a wine bottle.
"Go check if Brigid’s done with her shower..."
She told one of the maids.
"Tell her dinner’s ready."
A small smile appeared on her graceful face.
"But don’t mention what I made."
The maid bowed with a grin and disappeared.
Alone now, Adira let the elegant smile drop.
Her shoulders slumped slightly.
She reached for the wine, poured herself a glass, and took a long sip.
Just as she turned to walk toward the lounge—
Crash!
The glass shattered at her feet as she stepped back with a gasp.
A man in all black stood right in front of her.
Helmeted. Silent. Still.
Her heart slammed into her chest.
"What the—?!"
The man slowly removed his helmet.
Sharp jaw. Cold eyes. Battle-hardened expression.
Adira’s face tightened as her breath stilled.
"It’s... you..."
He didn’t speak.
He just looked down at her.
And she knew.
"You’re quite a bad boy, aren’t you~?"
She bit her lower lip and smiled.
He was trouble.