CHAPTER 393: PROMISES AND PLANS

For a moment, I stared at Camille across the living room, her expression a mixture of fury and concern that made me acutely aware of how I should respond. The automatic analysis was still there – I could read the tension in her posture, the way her hands were clenched at her sides – but it felt more manageable now, like background noise rather than a deafening roar.

Then I felt something change beneath me. Sienna’s blood pressure was rising, her breathing becoming slightly more rapid. The subtle shift in her body temperature told me she was getting stressed by the confrontation building between Camille and me. That realization cut through everything else.

I sat up immediately, swinging my legs off the couch. I had made a promise to all of them – no more secrets, no more hiding dangerous situations to protect them from worry. They deserved to know the truth, even if it caused them distress.

"It happened earlier today," I said, looking directly at Camille. "There was an assassination attempt during the mission. They tried using poison but thankfully due to Instinct and Poison Resistance that I developed with Alexis, I survived. We captured them, and the investigation will likely lead to identifying who hired them in the first place."

Camille’s expression shifted as she processed this information, but I continued before she could interrupt.

"I didn’t tell you immediately because I needed to see Alexis first. The mission rewards pushed my Detective job to SS-Rank, and the side effects were... overwhelming. I couldn’t function properly until she sedated me and gave me time to adapt."

I braced myself for the explosion of worry and anger that I expected. When I had first told Sienna and Camille about reaching S-Rank in any job. In fact Sienna had literally fainted from the shock of hearing something like that. SS-Rank should have triggered an even more extreme reaction.

Instead, Camille just nodded calmly. "Are you hurt?"

"A few bruises, nothing serious."

"Good." She moved to the kitchen and began making tea, her movements precise and controlled. Even Sienna acted the same. There was no fainting, no dramatic outburst, no interrogation about every detail of the danger I had faced.

The contrast was so stark that I found myself automatically analyzing their reaction, though with less intensity than before. They were genuinely concerned but not panicked. There was an acceptance in their demeanor that suggested they had been expecting something like this to happen eventually.

"Ok," Sienna said from behind me, patting her lap gently. "Come back. You still need rest."

I started to lie back down, but Camille’s voice cut across the room with a sharp edge that made me freeze.

"Excuse me, but aren’t you breaking the promise?"

Sienna blinked with exaggerated innocence. "What promise? I’m just helping Reynard recover from a medical condition. Alexis said he needed rest."

I could see the teasing glint in Camille’s eyes as she set down her tea preparations. The promise they were referring to was something they had agreed to among themselves – no advancing their romantic relationships with me while Evelyn couldn’t participate due to her Cain Protocol situation. It was their way of maintaining fairness and preventing jealousy from fracturing their friendship.

"Oh, is that all?" Camille said with mock sweetness. "Just medical care? How noble of you."

"Exactly," Sienna replied, though I could see the faint pink tinge starting to creep up her neck. "Purely therapeutic."

Camille stepped closer, her expression shifting into the playful predatory look she got when she was about to thoroughly embarrass someone. She was especially good when it came to Sienna as she had been teasing her for years. When she turned that skill on the girls, the results were usually devastating.

"Therapeutic," she repeated thoughtfully. "Like how you’ve been ’therapeutically’ running your fingers through his hair for the past twenty minutes? Or how you ’medically’ positioned yourself so his head would be resting exactly where you wanted it?"

The pink on Sienna’s neck deepened to red, spreading upward toward her face, but she maintained her calm expression with impressive determination.

"I was helping him relax," she said evenly. "Stress reduction is important for recovery."

"Of course," Camille continued, clearly enjoying herself. "And I’m sure the way you’ve been looking at him has nothing to do with how handsome he looks when he’s vulnerable and sleepy. Purely medical observation."

The red was creeping up Sienna’s cheeks now, though she was still trying to project innocence. I had to admit I was impressed by how long she was holding out under Camille’s verbal assault.

"His appearance is irrelevant to providing comfort care," Sienna said, though her voice was getting slightly higher in pitch.

"Comfort care," Camille repeated with delight. "Is that what we’re calling it now? And here I thought you were just taking advantage of the fact that he’s too exhausted to resist your advances."

That finally broke through Sienna’s defenses. Her face turned completely red as she crossed her arms and pouted.

"It’s not fair," she protested. "He almost died today, and I just wanted to help him feel better. Why do you have to make everything sound inappropriate?"

"Because watching you pretend to be innocent while obviously enjoying every second of physical contact is hilarious," Camille said with a grin. "Just admit you were being selfish and taking advantage of the situation."

"I was not taking advantage!" Sienna’s voice went up another octave. "I was being supportive and caring and... and..."

"And hoping he might fall asleep on your lap so you could play with his hair guilt-free?"

Sienna made a frustrated noise and buried her face in her hands, which only made Camille laugh harder.

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched their interaction. Despite everything that had happened today – the assassination attempt, the overwhelming SS-Rank transformation, the medical crisis – there was something deeply comforting about this return to normal domestic dynamics.

I was about to intervene and save Sienna from further embarrassment when I noticed Evelyn approaching from the hallway. She was wearing her characteristic black blindfold, moving with the confident grace of someone who had long ago adapted to navigating without sight. My detective abilities automatically noted her posture and breathing patterns, though the information k got was beyond useless. The worst part of this are the unecessary analysis that don’t actually provide any worthwhile information.

"You did well today," she said as she reached me. "Both surviving the mission and helping capture the assassins. The intelligence they provide will be valuable for understanding who their employer is."

Her calm, measured tone was a stark contrast to Camille’s teasing and Sienna’s flustered protests. Evelyn always carried herself with an air of quiet authority that came from her position in whatever intelligence organization she worked for.

"Thank you," I said. "Though I’m hoping future missions won’t require quite so much medical intervention afterward."

"The SS-Rank adaptation will stabilize," she said with the confidence of someone who had access to information sources I didn’t. Her Psychological Insight likely ready my body and body like a book. "Your body is already beginning to regulate the analytical processing. Within a week, you should have much better control over when and how intensively you engage those capabilities."

That was reassuring news, especially coming from someone whose job involved understanding System mechanics at the highest levels of government and intelligence work.

"Speaking of future missions," Evelyn continued, "in one month, you’ll be traveling to Brazil. They voted to remain neutral in the conflict against the World President, but preliminary intelligence suggests they might be convinced to join our coalition with the right approach."

I felt my detective abilities automatically begin analyzing the political implications of a Brazil mission, though with much less intensity than I would have experienced earlier in the day. Brazil was a significant player in South American politics, with substantial economic influence and military capabilities. If they could be convinced to actively oppose the World President rather than maintaining neutrality, it would represent a major strategic victory.

"What kind of approach are we considering?" I asked.

"That’s still being determined," Evelyn said. "The mission planning will depend on how well you’ve adapted to your new capabilities by then, as well as what additional intelligence we gather about Brazilian political dynamics over the next few weeks."

Behind us, Camille had apparently decided that Sienna had been embarrassed enough for one afternoon, because their conversation had shifted to discussing dinner preparations. The normalcy of it was almost surreal after the intensity of the day’s events.

"One month should be enough time for full adaptation," I said, though I was curious about what challenges a diplomatic mission to Brazil might present. It would certainly be different from the direct action scenarios I had been dealing with recently.

"We believe so," Evelyn agreed. "And unlike today’s mission, this one will have proper advance planning and support infrastructure. No more surprise assassination attempts, hopefully."

"Hopefully," I echoed, though my gut told me that any mission involving international politics and opposition to the World President would carry significant risks regardless of planning quality.

Though there is one thing I wanted to do before leaving...