The Strongest Curse Master

"So, that's a definite no on your end?" Ace confirmed with Matthews one last time.

"All I'm saying is that your rifle-shaped curse tool alone isn't enough to justify recommending you for the National Asset Program—or even the Priority Training Program," Matthews explained with a shrug. Then, shaking her head, she added, "If you really want my recommendation, give me a damn good reason."

"Like what?" Ace asked, trying to gauge what exactly Matthews would consider enough. He knew he was more than capable, considering the standards of those selected for the program in the previous years.

Matthews' lips curled into a grim grin as she suggested, "Own up to everything." Then, with an edge of amusement, she added, "Everything we know you did but can't prove. That should be enough to get you my recommendation."

Ace let out a dry chuckle. "I guess topping the C.I.B. boot camp—though tiresome—isn't such a bad route either," he mused. He knew full well that taking Matthews' deal would make him the next Crimson Eyes—or, land him in a position worse than Jason's as he did not have a royal family to shield him from the fallout like Crimson Eyes did when he cold-bloodedly killed two third of the fellow challengers.

"No!" Sonia immediately yelled, reacting before anyone else. Then, as if just processing what she'd heard, she shook her head furiously and repeated, "No, no, no!" Turning to Matthews with near panic, she pleaded, "Please let me transfer to another C.I.B. branch—anywhere else. With him and Lola around, there's no way I'm topping this boot camp. I won't even stand out!"

"Sonia!" Matthews snapped, her voice thundering with authority as she watched Sonia spiral into a full-blown meltdown.

"Ma'am, I can't," Sonia blurted, her voice laced with frustration. "Lola is one thing, but this asshole—it's like there's nothing in the world he isn't capable of. Just give him the damn recommendation or let me switch to a different branch!" she nearly shouted, teetering on the edge of hysteria.

At first, she had dismissed Ace, thinking he was nothing without his rifle-shaped curse tool. But after today—after watching him take down both Matthews and Janice, after seeing him toss around a hundred billion dollars like pocket change—she saw things differently. He outclassed her in every way she could think of. And that realization terrified her. Honestly, she was more scared of him now than when he had forced her decapitated head to watch as he dissected her body before burying her head alive.

Matthews narrowed her eyes, irritation flickering across her face, but seeing how much Sonia had invested in this—how much this meant to her—she let it slide. Still, her patience had limits. "Kid, get it together before I slap you straight," she snapped.

"B-but…" Sonia stammered, wanting to argue, but what was the point? Matthews wasn't going to transfer her hostage to someone else. She wasn't going to help Ace, whom she wanted to turn into her ladder to climb the ranks, climb to a higher rank than hers, either. Sonia realized, in that moment, how bleak her future looked—no matter how hard she tried or how much she wanted to overturn it.

Then, suddenly, a thought crossed her mind, 'Was this what Ace meant when he said if I knew what he knew, I might start seeing my father's guild's dilemma in a whole new light?'

And just like that, her perspective shifted. For the first time, putting aside her thirst for vengeance, she saw Ace as something else—not just an enemy, but possibly the only bridge, the rainbow bridge, that could lead her and her father out of Matthews' and the C.I.B.'s iron shackles.

"Stop looking at me like that, creep," Ace snapped, feeling an uncomfortable shiver run down his spine. Sonia's stare was weird—too intense, too calculating—and it jolted her out of whatever deep train of thought she had been lost in.

Her expression darkened as she met his eyes. Then, with eerie certainty, she prophesied, "Mark my words, Ace Lander, I will be the death of you."

Ace's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. He regretted not killing her a few more times when he'd had the chance. But with Matthews present, harming or even threatening her wasn't an option. Not right now, anyway. She was a C.I.B. trainee, and he was still an unregistered Curse Master. Unlike the rest, he couldn't simply go through the proper channels to register, not without being forced to disclose his innate curse tool and curse arts. But since he'd already shown intent to register, he had some time before it would be considered an offense serious enough to be a real problem.

Ignoring their little showdown, Matthews turned to Janice and asked, "Can I leave the Apaches here until I make arrangements to have them hauled back to camp?"

Janice shrugged, motioning toward Ace, "Ask him. He's my landlord."

Matthews sighed and turned to Ace.

"You can," Ace agreed with a lazy nod. "But I'm not responsible if they get stolen or damaged. I'm just a low-tier Curse Master who got lucky with a peculiar rifle-shaped curse tool. So, I don't have the strength or the manpower to guard them."

If anyone else had said that, Matthews would've laughed it off as a joke. But since it was Ace, and considering how readily he'd agreed without her even needing to press him, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

Without missing a beat, she turned back to Janice and said, "You know what? I want to rent a storage-type curse tool for half an hour. I'll transport the Apaches myself."

"I don't have a storage-type curse tool capable of storing and carrying these three Apaches," Janice said with a shrug. Then, with a smirk, she added, "Even if I did, believe me, you wouldn't be able to afford it—especially with how tight your C.I.B. branch's finances are right now."

She was lying.

She had exactly the kind of curse tool Matthews wanted to rent, but curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to see if Ace really planned to steal the Apaches. The prospect of watching this unfold firsthand was far more entertaining than the money she'd make from renting the tool. So, as far as she was concerned, giving up that profit was just the price of a front-row seat to the drama.

"Can't you just carry them to the base yourself?" Sonia chimed in, hiding the fact that she knew Janice was lying to Matthews. She didn't want to piss her off, as she needed her potions to get her sanity to optimal level after being killed over and over again or when she fused with Madam Scratchifur. Janice's potion was the miracle drug that she had been looking for.

Janice grinned, leaning into the idea with a sarcastic undertone, "Yeah, Matthews, that's an idea. Why don't you just do that?"

"Shut up!" Matthews snapped at both of them, clearly fed up. Without wasting another second, she stormed off to arrange for enough C.I.B. agents to guard the Apaches, making sure Ace wouldn't get a chance to pull anything before she secured transport to the camp—hundreds of miles away on the outskirts of the city.

If she had followed Sonia's brilliant suggestion, she would've collapsed from exhaustion before carrying even one of those damn helicopters out of town.