CHAPTER 23: THE MACHINE GUN

Candice held Elara’s hand to pacify her.

"Elara, I know you want to help me because you are my friend, and I don’t doubt your ability to know about these weapons, but there’s a difference between knowing about them and operating them. I don’t want you to risk yourself for it," Candice said.

Elara smiled at her friend’s thoughtfulness. If only the girl knew what kinds of weapons she had trained herself to operate while ruling that ring, where she used to train with strong street fighters.

Though she belonged to one of the wealthiest families in the province, she never liked the rich lifestyle that surrounded her, familiarizing herself with the social circle and throwing fake smiles here and there.

She was always attracted to something genuine, something worth fearing, that gave her an adrenaline rush.

For that, she did everything she could while keeping it hidden from her parents’ knowledge.

"I’ll just look. Is that alright? I really want to help you. Consider it my wish to pay back for the time when I didn’t listen to you and even blocked you because of that man." Elara blinked her eyes innocently, her eyes soft and pleading.

Candice kept looking at Elara for some time before she sighed in defeat. She tapped the tip of her nose.

"You know I can’t say no to this face," Candice said, and Elara grinned.

She returned to the area where Mr. Stewart was standing with a big frown on his face.

The stress alone made him look 10 years older than he did when she met him earlier, and why not? This project might’ve had its years of hard work.

It wasn’t just about knowing how to operate the machine gun but about having the guts to do it.

And while people who worked on it were present to assess any problems if they arose quickly, they didn’t dare sit in the machine gun chair.

"Dad, Elara wants to say something," Candice said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Stewart, already stressed over the matter, turned around with an annoyed expression.

"I am sorry, little girl, but I have something urgent to attend to. We can have a chat later," he said, his tone dismissive.

Candice pressed her lips into a thin line and was about to speak again to explain to her father what this was all about when Elara beat her to it.

"Allow me to operate it," she said.

Everyone in Mr. Stewart’s team froze at her sentence.

They looked at her as if they were looking at a ghost.

Did this girl really think that she could operate this machine?

Their gazes were full of pity and mockery for her. Even the trained officials hesitated to touch the chair while she was willingly coming forward. Had she truly lost her mind?

"You don’t know what you are talking about," Mr. Stewart rather stated.

Elara smiled in understanding. Doubt was obvious. If she met herself without knowing what she had learned and worked so hard on, she wouldn’t have believed herself either.

"Give me a chance. No one in your team dares to operate it. You have three coils here. One coil costs ten thousand dollars. I’ll pay you that money," Elara said.

Her words offended the man.

Did this girl think they were so pitiful that they worried about some thousands? Even Candice could feel Elara’s choice of words displeased her father, and she wanted to act as a mediator when Elara started speaking again.

"Let me assure you, it’s not about money. This cost will be for putting your trust in me. While these thousands don’t matter much to you, they do to me. It’s a month’s worth of salary for my people. If I fail, you’ll still have two recoils," Elara said before she stepped forward and looked straight into the man’s eyes.

Mr. Stewart’s eyes narrowed, not because he found her daring, but because of the kind of confidence and spark in her eyes; he felt like he had seen it before.

He couldn’t pinpoint where exactly, but these eyes were quite familiar.

"I won’t boast about my qualifications now until I prove my worth to you. This is also your opportunity to find a capable operator, because I am sure you are well aware of the damages your company and people would incur if you fail at representing," Elara threw point after point to pacify the man about why he should give her this chance.

Mr. Stewart looked at his daughter, who looked at her friend in awe, and massaged the area between his brows.

"Speak less. If you are so confident and don’t care for your life, let’s do this. There’s a clearing behind this venue. We can take the real prototype there. It was supposed to be represented there," The man nodded at his people to take the prototype outside.

Candice walked forward and took Elara’s hand, hoping to ease her nerves, just in case she was anxious. After all, this kind of machine, if not operated correctly, could take her life.

"Remember, if you fail, you’ll lose my daughter’s friendship too. I don’t want a mindless girl near my daughter, someone who can put her at risk," Mr. Stewart said.

Elara looked at the man. He was right from a father’s perspective. After all, they knew nothing about her. She planned to tell them soon anyway.

On the other hand, Andrew, who was looking around, saw a glimpse of Elara walking towards the back door with a group of men while holding a woman’s hand, and furrowed his brow.

Curiosity overtook him, and he followed the group silently so as not to be noticed.

Multiple thoughts ran through his head.

What was Elara doing with them? Was she working for them now? But why? She could just ask him for money if she needed it.

Right. How could he forget? She was pretending to want a divorce. Andrew scoffed, his lips twitching into a smirk as he thought about how, despite saying she wasn’t following him, Elara always seemed to appear wherever he went.

It was almost like she was stalking him. Or why would a woman like her, who didn’t have any relationship with the business world, always appear in such areas?

What could she possibly have to do with weapons? Many women even fear such things.

This could be an act to catch his attention, too. She probably saw him standing there before he could spot her, and deliberately pulled this trick.

In that case, he should entertain her a little and see what she is up to, no? Andrew thought.

As he walked further in the direction, he noticed Elara standing around what looked like a prototype of the machine gun.

His pupils dilated when he saw Elara touching the prototype.

What was she doing?

Wait. She didn’t happen to hear Beatrice’s words about representing a rifle, right? That wasn’t good.

He knew Elara was competitive and quite jealous of Beatrice, but was she really going to act so dumb and risk her life like that?

He quickly stepped forward, fearing she would hurt herself, but before he could take another step, he was stopped by the guards.

"Sir, you can’t go ahead. The Stewarts are trying a prototype. No one is allowed to enter the region. It’s harmful," the guards said.

Andrew’s mind froze for a second. Stewart? He remembered Elara talking to his grandfather and saying she was with Candice Stewart. Was that true? She really had such influential friends?

But that wasn’t important right now. What was important was keeping her away from that risky thing.

Andrew nodded and turned around to find another way to enter the area without the guards stopping him.

He noticed the entrance gate at the far end, which he would have to go around the exhibition hall to reach.

With the kind of crowd gathered, it would take him more than twenty minutes to do so.

No. He didn’t have that kind of time. By then, Elara might get hurt.

Andrew looked around, unsure who to ask for help when he called his father.

"Dad, do you know anyone in the Stewart family?" He asked as soon as his father picked up.

Heather drew his brows in confusion. Stewart family? Why was his son asking about it? Hadn’t he gone to that exhibition? Or was it because he liked something worthy there?

"I know Stewart personally. He was a classmate. Do you like something?" Heather asked.

Andrew shook his head before clearing his throat when he saw Elara scrutinizing the prototype from head to toe, even putting her finger in the recoil section to see its recoil.

She was really going overboard.

"No, Father. I want you to call him and ask him to tell his guards to let me enter this area," Andrew said.

Heather, who didn’t understand a word, asked him to repeat, and Andrew groaned in annoyance.

He looked at the girl through the glass partition, who sat in the chair behind the machine gun that was pointed towards the further end.

"Will you be able to handle it?" Mr. Stewart asked, genuinely worried, not for his prototype anymore, but for the girl who had shared so much knowledge about everything she saw in the machine gun.

She was really talented, and while he acknowledged it, he didn’t want her to risk her life over something she wasn’t confident about just to prove herself.

Elara nodded at the man and took a deep breath.

She removed the safety lock around the trigger and looked at the target at the far end.

"Step away," she said, and everyone followed her command.