Chapter 352: Apparently the Audience Had Bought the Wrong Ending

The foreman tried repossessing me under the category of loose equipment, which was offensive when I had spent the entire afternoon demonstrating excellent control of my tail.

Lyra read the order on his device while Bridget recorded from the other side of the railing. The dry gantry connected us through a normal gate, and the two armored workers stood between me and the exit we had used earlier.

I had just bought portals and immediately put mine on cooldown, because timing remained the strongest argument against letting me manage my own life.

"You could start by explaining which part of your lease included the customer, because I remembered signing for machinery rather than becoming a complimentary sausage."

"The sponsor guaranteed delivery of the unit and occupant," the foreman said. "Any dispute goes through the contractor."

Lyra smiled with the particular warmth that meant somebody had made her very angry. "Then the sponsor can sit inside it and go with you, because Matt never agreed to that condition."

[System: Ask whether he’ll accept your uncle as a substitute, mate. Similar family background, far less resale value, and already comes with a warning about financial damage.]

I wanted the uncle included in the return package whether they accepted him or not.

One worker asked whether I actually belonged to the sponsor’s family, and I told him that unfortunate detail was true. He looked relieved until I explained that being related hadn’t stopped them trying to murder me before. Lyra added that the casino records could prove the dispute, while Bridget suggested the crew ask for cash up front before accepting another promise from a man currently borrowing his own reputation.

The foreman called the organizer to demand support. He turned his display toward the camera during the argument, exposing a second dispatch schedule beneath the public race entry.

Bridget caught it on her own phone. She didn’t need to break into anything when the man was helpfully showing his employer’s bad decisions to everyone present.

The next collection run would move an armored convoy through the race corridor, then turn into the utility approach beneath our club. It wasn’t leaving yet; the schedule showed a service interval long enough for the drivers to change shifts and collect a separate depot load.

Hansen’s commission account appeared beside the route request. There was still no proof he owned the machinery or paid the crew outright, only another promise that stolen assets would cover the expense.

My uncles had lost their fortune and apparently decided everyone else should lend them a replacement until they could steal mine.

Old Mate looked delighted in the unpleasant way he did when a useful quest could also settle a grudge.

[System: Break Their Collection Run, mate. Find who’s actually giving orders, stop this attempt on your equipment, and leave the public passage working. Ten thousand EXP and forty-five IP, because stealing the fridge back shouldn’t count if you flatten the customers getting there.]

We hadn’t even finished deciding where to put the cheese, and they were already trying to take custody of it.

I accepted. Lyra asked what I intended before I could turn the situation into a personal demonstration.

"Get their route and command link, leave through somewhere less crowded, then make the collection significantly less profitable than advertised."

"That was almost a plan," she said. "Keep the first part while I handle the door."

Her Backdoor Bludger use remained available. She could see an empty maintenance platform beyond the barrier, less than twenty meters away and inside the same dry enclosure.

Bridget moved near the destination gate, keeping clear of where the opening would form. She understood what Lyra intended from the explanation we had already shared, not because our bond transmitted thoughts.

The foreman stepped closer while still arguing into his phone. I asked him whether the sponsor had mentioned the missing money, and the expression on his face suggested that particular part of the sales pitch had been omitted.

Behind me, Lyra opened her pair of portals.

The first mouth appeared in clear space beside us. The second opened beyond the locked barrier, where Bridget kept the landing area free. I slid through with Lyra close behind, our bodies carrying their ordinary motion instead of being fired out like a weapon.

The gate remained locked. The foreman saw us on the wrong side of it, looked back at the first opening, and started toward it just as the eight seconds ended.

Nobody was cut in half. Nobody vanished into another dimension. He simply arrived too late and struck his shoulder against an empty patch of air where he had expected a shortcut.

[System: You’ve finally bought a skill that matches your commitment to avoiding consequences, mate. Shame the consequences can still use ordinary bloody doors.]

Then we should stop admiring the purchase while he found his keys.

We warned the nearby workers about the collection route and sent the recording to the club. Tasmin could secure the cooling bay, Cherry could stay with the staff, and nobody needed to imagine an attack had already begun somewhere we couldn’t see.

The nearest worker asked whether the public viewing room should remain closed, and Lyra confirmed it should until the equipment was checked. That kept our argument from sending curious spectators straight back into the machinery behind us.

Bridget joined us through the normal maintenance gate. Lyra’s cooldown ran separately from mine, giving us a reason to remember who had used what rather than assuming the whole household could escape forever.

The foreman came out onto the next platform with his workers, still furious that his paperwork hadn’t immobilized us.

He ordered a test pull on the offshore collection line, apparently intending to demonstrate that the equipment would recover whatever he decided belonged to him.

A suspended net tightened beneath the water. Something enormous struck it from below, and the whole gantry shifted hard enough to throw the foreman against his own railing.

Beyond the glass, a jaw wider than our service boat opened around the tangled collection gear, while Lyra caught my tail and asked whether that had been included in my nearly sensible plan.