This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

He rushed forward, extending a hand desperately to the taller man. "Mr. Hawthorne! What an honor to finally meet you in person. I've heard so much about your work with the Consortium. Truly inspiring!"

Hawthorne, the taller of the two Consortium representatives, didn't even glance at Reginald's hand. His icy gaze swept over the rotund man with barely concealed disdain, as if he were examining a particularly unpleasant stain on his polished leather shoes. "Reginald," he said, his voice clipped and dripping with condescension. "I hope you're not wasting our time. We have more important matters to attend to."

Reginald's hand dropped awkwardly to his side, and he laughed nervously. "Of course, of course! I wouldn't dream of wasting your time. I just wanted to discuss my plans for expanding my corporation into the Southern Region. With your guidance, of course."

The stockier man, who had been silent until now, let out a derisive snort that echoed through the opulent meeting room. "Your corporation? You mean your pathetic little knockoff operation? Don't make me laugh calling it a corporation"

Reginald's face turned a shade of red that clashed horribly with his mustard-yellow suit, but he quickly plastered on another ingratiating smile. "Ah, Mr. Graves! Always so sharp. But you see, my operation has been quite successful here in the Eastern Region. With the Consortium's support, I'm confident we can replicate that success in the South."

Hawthorne raised an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "Your 'success' is built on cheap imitations and corner-cutting. Not to mention that we know that there has been a poisoning incident recently related to you so it'd difficult to trust in your 'business expertise.' The only reason we've tolerated you this long is because you've proven yourself useful in other ways. But don't mistake that for approval. The entire spiritual beverage market is destined to end up in the pocket of our consortium, and your cheap imitations only serve to harm our future interests."

Miya watched the exchange with barely concealed amusement. The arrogant, lecherous man who had been harassing her for weeks was now reduced to a sniveling suck-up, groveling at the feet of this Consortium's representatives. It was almost as satisfying as the thought of beating Reginald to a pulp herself—almost.

Graves stepped forward, his scowl deepening. "Listen, Reginald. We don't have time for your nonsense. If you want our help, you'll follow our instructions to the letter. No deviations, no excuses. Understood?"

Reginald nodded eagerly, his head bobbing like a bobblehead doll. "Absolutely, Mr. Graves. Whatever you need, I'm your man."

Hawthorne's gaze shifted to Miya, finally paying attention to the woman he deemed inconsequential, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And who is this?"

Reginald jumped at the opportunity to show off, placing a hand on Miya's shoulder in what he probably thought was a protective gesture. "This is Mary, my new assistant. She's been an invaluable addition to the team. Sharp as a tack, this one."

Miya forced another smile, her skin breaking out into goosebumps under the area Reginald was touching. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hawthorne, Mr. Graves."

"And her background has been checked?" Hawthorne asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Miya resisted stiffening as sweat began to run down her back. She had no doubt that if Reginald's answer did not satisfy him, he'd kill her immediately, and maybe even Reginald too.

"Aahhh, yes. Of course!" Reginald replied while smiling awkwardly.

'I'll do it later. What harm could a little girl without an affinity even do…'

Hawthorne studied Miya for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before turning back to Reginald. "Keep her out of the way. We don't need any distractions or leaks."

Reginald nodded vigorously. "Of course, of course. Mary, why don't you wait outside while we discuss business?"

Miya hesitated, her mind racing. This was her chance to gather more information, but she couldn't push too hard without raising suspicion. "Of course, Mr. Reginald," she said sweetly, giving him a saccharine smile. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

As she turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of the documents on the table—shipping manifests, financial records, and what looked like a contract with another company that hadn't previously been on their radar but was famous enough for Mary to immediately place the name—Empire Eats Inc.

Empire Eats was a massive organization that is responsible for supplying and shipping nearly all of the produce needed by the Southern Region's civilians. It was a massive food empire and its potential involvement in targeting Kain was a major concern.

As Miya walked out of the meeting room, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and trepidation. She had been playing the role of "Mary" for weeks now, gathering intel and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And now, it seemed like that moment was finally approaching.

She took a deep breath and closed the door behind her, trying to process everything she had just heard. The Consortium's representatives, Hawthorne and Graves, were clearly not impressed with Reginald's operation, but they were willing to tolerate him as long as he was useful to their interests. And what were those interests, exactly? Miya's mind was racing with questions and theories.

But since she had confirmed that Reginald wasn't irreplaceable or emotionally connected to them in any way, perhaps…

'Maybe we can replace him and infiltrate the larger corporation…'

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"If Empire Eats is involved," Lira said, her voice low, "then this goes way beyond a low-level skirmish between small and mid-sized business aiming to enter the spiritual beverage market. Empire Eats is solidly within the top 10 corporations of the Empire."

Darius nodded, his expression grim. "Which means we need to be careful. One wrong move, and we could tip off the wrong people."

Miya crossed her arms, her mind going back to the thought she'd had earlier. "At the end of the day, this is an exam for a life-changing opportunity. If we just tell Kain all that we've found and get rid of Reginald, would that be enough to prove our irreplaceable worth? I don't think so. I think many mercenary groups that we'd met in the past could accomplish this much. But, what if we don't just take down the Black Vine Consortium? What if we replace them? If we can get ourselves on the inside—become people they trust—we could dismantle their entire operation from within and hand deliver it to Kain!"

The room fell silent as the group considered her words. It was a bold plan, but it just might work.