CHAPTER 398: PRANKSTER

The office was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the city below in a lattice of lights and shadows. At the far end, the black desk gleamed, and behind it sat Gramps. His eyes burned with fury, locked on Rachel with a weight that made her chest tighten.

"You," he hissed, voice low and venomous. "You dare stand here in her likeness?"

Rachel froze for a split second. Could he really think she was an imposter? Ethan’s hand twitched on his spear. Vivian’s grin vanished. Aria’s hands clenched at her

"I am Rachel," she said, voice sharp, hand on her hip. "Your granddaughter. Still me. Still alive. Still kicking. Do you recognize me, Gramps?"

The Director slammed a hand on the desk. "Do you mock me?" His gaze blazed. "Do you think I would not know the difference between my blood and a facsimile?"

Rachel’s chest tightened. The air felt thick, like it might crush her. She didn’t flinch. "Seriously? You really gonna pretend I’m a fraud in my own body? Cute. Real cute."

With his hand still on the table, The Director slowly rose up, Bloodlust blossoming from his body like a raging fire that pressed down on their hearts. Ethan and Vivian could feel their bodies instinctively freeze up as if they were mere prey in front of the apex predator.

"You really are bold," The Director growled with disgust dripping from his voice. "You don’t think I can’t recognize my blood and some half baked wannabe?"

Rachel’s brow furrowed with annoyance as she immediately retorted "Half baked?! Did you finally lose your mind you Old Fogey?! I’m not a fake! You are just being rude now! What the hell did I do to deserve this sort of treatment!"

Rachel looked overtly offended as she acted like she was unaffected by the bloodlust filling the room.

Gramps’ eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. The room seemed to constrict around them. Every shadow sharpened, every heartbeat echoed loud and urgent. The bloodlust rolling off him pressed down like a physical weight. Yet Rachel sensed something else underneath it, a careful, deliberate measure, a hidden smile behind the fury.

"You dare speak to me like that, Rachel?" he hissed, voice low and deadly. "Do you know what it means to mock the head of the organization?"

Rachel raised a brow, hand still on her hip. "Gramps, seriously? Mock? Please. You are the one acting like you are about to chew me up and spit me out. I am not mocking you. You are overreacting."

He slammed a fist against the desk and the sound cracked through the office like thunder. Papers jumped. The city lights outside seemed to shiver. Ethan’s grip on his spear tightened. Vivian’s stance stiffened. Aria’s fingers flexed around her weapon.

"You are bold," Gramps growled, stepping closer. The aura of his bloodlust intensified, sweeping over them like fire. "You have the audacity to stand before me in her form, thinking you can fool me. Do you understand what you are doing?"

Rachel smirked, unbothered. Her voice carried a teasing edge. "Yeah, I get it. You are trying to scare me. Months without updates, no word, nothing. You wanted to see if I would flinch, right? Admit it, Gramps. You are just getting your payback."

The Director blinked. For a fraction of a second, his fury faltered. A faint smirk tugged at his lips before he slammed the desk again, pretending to scowl. Rachel’s grin widened. She was seeing through it. The performance, the fake rage, was all there for her to read.

"You are no fun you brat..." He growled in annoyance as he sat back down at his desk in a relaxed manner. Just as soon as it arrived, the Bloodlust disappeared like it had never been there to begin with.

Rachel blinked slowly, processing the sudden shift. The oppressive heat in the room, the crushing weight of his bloodlust, all gone as if it had been a projection. She crossed her arms, one brow raised.

"You expect me to just sit here after you nearly gave me a heart attack? Really, Gramps?" Her tone was sharp, playful, and utterly irreverent.

The Director leaned back in his chair, hands steepled, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I expected you to see through it. You have always been clever, Rachel. But I admit I enjoyed watching your instincts flare before you recognized the trick. You have been gone for months. I had no updates, no communication. I feared the worst."

Rachel smirked, crossing her legs. "Months, huh? Funny thing, Gramps. From my perspective it has only been a few hours."

The Director blinked. "Hours? That is... impossible. How could so much time pass for me, and yet so little for you?"

Rachel shrugged casually, leaning back in her chair. "Time is funny that way. Let’s just say some outside forces were at work. The rest of the team and I acted as an anchor while they essentially broke a Goddess out of jail."

The words hung in the air, and for the first time, The Director’s eyes widened. He leaned forward slightly, curiosity breaking through the shadow of his earlier anger. "A Goddess... imprisoned? And you acted as an anchor? Explain."

"Me first. What happened to this place while I was gone?"

The Director leaned back slightly, folding his hands on the desk as he regarded her carefully. "The organization remained intact, though not untouched. I returned to the field. I made the decision to reveal our presence to the world. Every hidden operation, every network, all exposed. It was necessary to secure our position and ensure our survival. That is why the office looks the same but the world outside knows we exist."

Rachel tilted her head, letting a slow grin spread across her face. "You really went ahead and did all that without giving me a single update? Bold move, Gramps. Very bold."

He gave a faint shrug. "I expected you to be occupied. You were missing in action for... months from my perspective. I had no way to verify your safety until now."

The Director leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled again, and his eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and authority. "There is one more thing you should know. Starting next week, I will take on a new role. I will be the Dean of the Player Academy. I expect you, Rachel, and the rest of your companions to enroll. There is much you need to learn, and your abilities will be invaluable in shaping the students."

Vivian’s grin faltered, replaced by a frown. "School? Seriously? You expect us to go to school after everything we’ve been through?"

Rachel smirked, leaning back in her chair with a hand on her hip. "Dean, huh? That’s... ambitious, even for you, Gramps. I’m intrigued. But yes, school? You do realize some of us are more... practical, right?"

Aria tilted her head, a small smile forming. "I don’t know, I kind of like the idea. A school for players... sounds fascinating. I mean, think of what we could learn and who we might meet."

Ethan opened his mouth to argue, but as his gaze met The Director’s, the air seemed to shift. The Director’s eyes locked onto him, sharp, calculating, piercing. For a moment, Ethan felt like every secret, every action, every hesitation had been read, exposed. His throat went dry, and the words he meant to speak died unformed.

The Director leaned forward slightly, his expression calm but intense. "Do you understand what it means to take responsibility for others, Ethan? To see their potential and guide them while also protecting them from themselves? That is what this Academy requires. That is what you will need to understand before we begin."

Ethan swallowed hard, still feeling the weight of that gaze. "Y-yes, sir," he managed finally, voice low and tense. The sense that he had been completely seen, understood, and measured left him momentarily disoriented.

Rachel’s smirk widened as she noticed his reaction. "Looks like someone just got a taste of her Gramps’ special brand of intimidation. Relax, Ethan. You’ll survive."

The Director’s eyes flicked to Rachel, a faint curve at the corners of his mouth, almost a silent acknowledgment of her irreverence. "Rachel, you have seen through much already. That is good. But there is more to learn. More that will challenge you, test your abilities, and expand your perspective. This Academy is not just about training. It is about understanding your role in a world that has suddenly become far more complicated."