CHAPTER 243: CHAPTER 243

Ever since that girl had kicked his ass, he’d been throwing these tantrums, dying to clash with Cypher Knoxx and Remillia Lockhart. It was all about settling the score for the embarrassment he’d swallowed. But Yoru had zero plans to give the go-ahead. In his book, he needed those two. Cypher had been the main target from the start, but Remillia showing up by sheer luck? That was a game-changer he wasn’t passing up.

"Like I said, I don’t have a problem with it. Go to the arena and blow off some steam. But it won’t be my concern if you bump into Deuss’ Followers and get pounded," Yoru replied, his grin widening as he waved Damian off.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Yoru leaned back, his mind already spinning webs. This whole mess was shaping up to be more entertaining than he’d expected.

Deuss’ Followers.

They were the top dogs in Abyss, ranked number one, no questions asked. All 35 members had contracts with the notorious demon ’Deuss’, and it wasn’t overstating it to say they kept Abyss’s laws and chaos in check with their sheer, overwhelming power. Mess with them, and you were done for.

Damian slipped out of the mansion without a word, the door clicking shut behind him.

The world outside hit him like a wall—reeking of booze and blood, packed with scenes of wild pleasure and endless entertainment. Neon lights flickered, crowds roared, and the air buzzed with that raw, dangerous energy Abyss was famous for.

He made his way to the heart of the city, his boots thudding against the grimy streets. As he walked, memories flooded back, uninvited. It pissed him off every time, but he forced himself to relive it—to keep the fire burning.

Slash.

The raw power in that one strike.

Slash.

Her moves, fast as lightning, cutting through him like he was nothing.

Slash.

No denying it, she was a beast in a pretty package—a powerhouse beyond her looks.

Wondering how much stronger he’d have to get to crush her, Damian slapped his hands over his face and let out a shuddering laugh. "Hahaha..."

He craved a fight. Hell, he craved to end her. But then that icy stare paired with that face of hers flashed in his mind, and something shifted. Hatred morphed into this weird obsession without him even realizing it. He wanted her—wanted to claim her as his. She’d make the perfect partner, no doubt. His body trembled with the intensity of it all as he pushed through the arena doors, ready to unleash some steam and drown out the chaos in his head. And in Abyss, that kind of hunger could either make you a legend or get you buried.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

A week before the start of Academy

I was knee-deep in reading company documents on my laptop, cross-referencing numbers and contracts, when a sharp knock pulled me away from the screen. I got up, stretched out my body, and headed to the door. Standing there was a guy from Treasure Link, balancing a black medium-sized box with an envelope taped on top.

"Remillia Lockhart?" he said, shifting the box a bit.

"That’s me," I replied, stepping aside.

"Miss Whitney sends her regards—she couldn’t swing by personally because she’s overseeing the armor production," he explained, passing the package over with a quick bow before heading off.

I kicked the door shut and dashed to the living room, dumping the envelope on the couch and prying open the box lid first. My excitement crashed into a frown. What the hell is this? Can this even fit Macaron and Glacier? It looked like some weird gadget, not the custom suits I’d pictured.

Picking up on my vibe, Macaron and Glacier trotted over, tails wagging curiously.

"When we popped by for measurements, I eavesdropped on the crew—they said if they’re gonna mass-produce monster armors, they can’t tweak ’em for every tamed monster’s build. So they invented this device," Macaron explained, snatching a ring from the box and clipping it onto Glacier’s chest. The thing glowed instantly, and boom—armor erupted, encasing Glacier’s entire body in sleek, protective layers.

"Holy crap," I breathed, stepping back as Glacier tested it out, the fit spot-on. "Your turn, Macaron." He fluttered over, and I slipped the next ring on him. Same glow, same magic—armor forming perfectly around his feathery frame. These things were game-changers. Now, about that envelope... I tore it open, scanning the note inside. Whitney’s handwriting: "Prototypes ready. Test ’em out and let me know. Oh, and your shares are in the works—don’t worry, witch."

I whipped out my phone right away and fired off a text to Whitney. "Just received the armors. It’s perfect! What’s the name anyway?"

Her reply buzzed back almost instantly. "Great! And the name? You should name it—it’s your idea after all."

I paced around the living room for a bit, tossing ideas in my head while Macaron and Glacier strutted around in their new gear, looking all badass. Finally, I settled on something cool and hit send. "Aegis Core."

————————————

Aegis Core

Description: A compact, oval-shaped metallic device about the size of a palm, crafted from a rare alloy infused with stabilized arcane crystals.

Functionality: Designed as an adaptive armor deployment system, the Aegis Core can be clipped onto a monster’s/beast’s chest or other suitable surfaces. Once attached, the device activates instantly, triggered by contact.

Result: The surge causes an explosion of protective layers, which unfurl swiftly across the body, forming a sleek, seamless armor. This armor is composed of magically reinforced plates that are lightweight yet incredibly resilient, providing immediate protection against physical and magical attacks. The entire process occurs in seconds, giving the monster/beast an almost instant transformation from vulnerability to armored combatant.

————————————

"The Aegis Core will be released next week," Whitney texted back, and I could practically hear her smug grin through the screen.

I was just about to toss the envelope into the trash when a smaller one slipped out and landed on the floor. Curious, I bent down and picked it up, tearing it open. Inside was this fancy black card with gold accents, my name etched right on it: Remillia Lockhart, complete with a unique serial number, and another letter tucked alongside.

————————————

TREASURE LINK VIP

Remillia Lockhart

000-000-001

————————————

The letter explained: "If there’s anything you need, you can go straight to the armory without looping me in. That’s an exclusive VIP card, and you’re the first one to snag it, so make sure to TREASURE it.

P.S. The card works for other businesses under Royal Dominion too."

"Isn’t this an abuse of power?" I mused aloud, chuckling to myself. Even after suffering from a scandal, she had only gotten bolder. Did I help her too early? I slipped the card into my wallet, still chuckling.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

One day before the start of Academy

I was wrestling with the lock on my dorm door when this robot, stacked high with boxes like a walking warehouse, rolled up and parked itself right in my path.

"Miss Remillia Lockhart, you have a delivery," it droned in that emotionless robot voice.

’Did I order something?’ I thought, tilting my head. "Which one is it?" I asked, scanning the mountain of packages.

Without a word, the robot unloaded every single box right there on the floor in front of me. "These are all yours," it said, then zipped off down the hall.

What? These are all mine? The robot must’ve short-circuited! There’s no way this could be mi— An envelope slipped out and landed on my shoe. I picked it up, ripped it open, and read the note inside.

I have nothing to do with my money so I bought you these.

-Boss

My mouth fell open. Boss? Kairos? I peeked into a couple of boxes, and holy crap—they were all designer clothes, the kind that screamed "expensive" from a mile away.

Why the heck would he send me these? I fumbled with my key again, finally getting the door unlocked, and it took me a solid three minutes to lug all those boxes inside.

Every single box was packed with high-end designer threads! The stuff Stephen had bought me before? It couldn’t even touch the price tags on these. What was Kairos even thinking?

Without thinking twice, I yanked out my phone and dialed him up.

"Yes?" he answered, all casual.

"Explain why there are a ton of boxes here in my dorm!" I blurted out.

"I don’t know your address, so I sent them to your dorm instead. So? Are they to your liking?" he asked, like it was no big deal.

"Yes—I mean, no—Urgh!" I groaned, frustrated. "Why did you gift me these?"

"Since I’m your boss, can’t I give you something nice?" he replied smoothly.

"No, that’s not the point—"

He cut me off. "So it’s okay if your manager buys you clothes?" he said, his tone deepening.

"What I mean is, I have plenty of clothes already! My wardrobe won’t fit anymore!" I protested.

"Then you have two options: First, throw away the clothes your manager gave you, or second, burn the clothes you received from your manager," he said, dead serious.

I stood there speechless, realizing there was no winning this argument. I just sighed, defeated. "Thank you for these, and I hope you’ll stop sending me clothes any—"

He cut me off again, like it was his favorite hobby. "You should say that to your manager."

I furrowed my brows, confused. "What?"

"I won’t stop sending you gifts. Goodbye now," he said, and the line went dead.

"W-Wait—!" I stammered, but it was too late. I tried calling him back right away, but his phone was off. Typical. I tossed my phone onto the bed, staring at the mountain of boxes. Kairos was relentless, wasn’t he? Part of me was annoyed, but another part couldn’t help but smile.

Oh well, as long as they’re free and not from my pocket. I might as I well make the most of it.