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Celia's Section
Callan Wolfe had set out with only three mid-tier Enforcers, and the frenzied spirit beast still destroyed nearly half the Spirit Core and every Skyvine Bloom before it fell.
Yet Celia White felt no disappointment—in fact, she was thrilled. Callan hadn't just survived; he'd returned stronger than ever. Meanwhile Soren was dashing around the Federation, grinding merit points for his dear cousin. The thought sent a delicious chill through her—the razor's edge where a strategist's calm meets a predator's hunger.
Soren Wolfe was sharp, powerful, absurdly handsome. She admired him, yes—but admiration was not loyalty, and certainly not mercy.
Men were pleasant enough. Resources were priceless.
A flawless White-family smile blossomed on her lips, the one practiced for hundreds of hours in front of gilded mirrors—irresistible, lethal.
She tapped her fingers against the holoscreen. Callan's itinerary unfolded like a game board. In one month, on the snowfields of the Northern Wastes, her next "gift" awaited him—the Frostheart Core Damian Drake had discovered in their previous life. It would cement Callan's cultivation, and the Skyvine Bloom and Primal Crystal bundled with it were exactly what Celia needed to break into mid-tier.
"This time…" She stared at a wilting rosebush outside the window. Thorns scraped against the glass, fracturing her reflection. "…Soren, be a good stepping stone for Callan."
Because Celia White intended to become matriarch of both the Wolfe and White families.
Soren's Section
The so-called stepping stone—Soren Wolfe—had just delivered another triumph. Callan's name shot from 109th to 28th on the Enforcer Merit List, edging out Lucian Drake by a single slot.
Do-Re-Mi. The three-tone alert chimed every few seconds for half an hour. Even a saint would snap.
Fresh from sealing a case in Emberfield, Soren finally checked his phone: a parade of micro-transactions from Avery Blake—fifty cents for snacks, a dollar-fifty for a single cigarette. He scrolled past the spam until one update caught his eye:
"Callan located the Abyssal Spirit Core in Blackridge County. He's now Peak Mid-Tier. Of the three mid-tier Espers with him, two are dead, one critically injured."
"Brooks and Haven." Soren's chuckle clicked like a safety off. "Rest in pieces."
Deleting the message, he shrugged on his coat. The mirrored PSB façade flashed back the dangerous curve of his smile.
Time to collect his reckless, money-burning rookie.
Avery's Section
Avery Blake waited at the curb, shoulder-length hair in a high ponytail, light-gray hoodie and dark cargo pants making her look every inch the energetic student—if students usually hauled tactical backpacks and chewed on unlit cigarettes.
A car horn. Soren at the wheel.
She slid into the passenger seat, twirling the cigarette. "Boss, you drive? I figured you'd just blink us home."
"Capital City," Soren answered. The console pulsed to life; a 3-D map plotted the course, steering wheel moving with surgical precision—military-grade AI, no human hesitation.
Solar-hydrogen hybrid. Falcon Drive series. Sticker price: three mil. CEO instincts noted it all.
"Nice ride," she whistled.
Soren tapped the wheel's stitching—once, twice, the rhythm of a sniper measuring breath. "You spent a lot today."
"Thanks to the boss's generosity," Avery grinned, "I finally sampled everything I missed in my old life."
"Even a single cigarette?"
Long nights, brutal deals—smoking had kept her sane before she died. Meeting the habit again? Irresistible… until her new lungs rebelled and she sneezed.
"What's next on your list?"
"Simple—master my powers and clear every mission you throw at me. Any training centers for Espers?"
"I'll send you to someone. She'll arrange everything."
"Great. I'll also need intel channels."
"Same contact. And ditch the smoke."
"Got it, boss." She flicked the cigarette into the bin.
"Name and number?"
"Nyra Night. 28." He rattled off the digits.
Avery's system chimed:
[CONTACT ACQUIRED]
Nyra Night | Mid-Tier Psionic | Affiliation: Wings of Liberty (probable)
[MISSION UPDATED] Meet Nyra Night. Side Quest: Don't get killed.
Avery smirked. "Copy that, LUSTRA. Let's hustle."