Chapter 590: The Siren’s Confession
Chapter 590: The Siren’s Confession
I left. Closed the door behind me with a soft click that felt far too final.
The elevator carried me down to the lobby in silence, save for the quiet hum of expensive machinery. Each descending floor felt like a countdown. A car waited outside—black, sleek, expensive in that understated way that screamed "someone important sits here." Tinted windows reflected the building’s exterior lighting back at me.
The driver, a man in his fifties with the posture of ex-military, held the door open with practiced efficiency.
"Mr. Nakano. La Luna Rossa."
I climbed in. The interior smelled like leather and subtle cologne.
The city scrolled past the windows as we pulled into traffic. Lights and advertisements and Hunter industry propaganda bleeding together into a neon watercolor. Holographic displays advertised the latest Guild recruitment drives. Billboards featured smiling S-Ranks holding energy drinks. New Vein at night looked like capitalism had a fever dream and decided to charge admission.
I checked my phone. No messages from Natalia. Good. She was giving me space.
Or planning something.
With her, both were equally likely.
Twenty minutes later, the car glided to a stop.
La Luna Rossa occupied the penthouse of a building in the Veridian Hills district that probably had its own zip code. Maybe its own governing body. The entrance featured velvet ropes, mood lighting, and a hostess who looked like she could kill me with her cheekbones alone. She was beautiful in that surgically precise way that made me wonder if she’d used her Hunter paycheck for "enhancements."
"Reservation for Cabana."
Her smile was professional. Practiced. Perfect.
"Of course. This way please, Mr. Nakano."
She knew my name without asking. Interesting.
She led me through the main dining room with the fluid grace of someone who’d done this a thousand times. Past tables filled with people wearing clothes that cost more than cars. Past a bar made of what looked like actual marble, serving drinks I couldn’t pronounce and probably couldn’t afford. The ambient noise was the cultivated murmur of wealth—quiet conversations about stock portfolios and Guild politics.
This was Reyna’s world. Not mine.
Into a private room at the back.
The hostess opened the door. Gestured for me to enter.
Reyna Cabana waited inside.
She’d changed since the arena. Now she wore a red dress that clung to every curve. Her crimson hair was loose. Falling past her shoulders in waves. Makeup highlighted her eyes. Made them look even more intense.
"You’re early."
"I’m punctual. There’s a difference."
She smiled. Gestured to the chair across from her.
I sat.
The room was intimate. Small table. Soft lighting. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. No cameras visible. No recording equipment apparent.
A waiter appeared. Poured wine. Disappeared.
Reyna lifted her glass.
"To complicated situations."
I matched her gesture.
"To complicated situations."
We drank.
The wine was excellent. Probably expensive enough to fund a small revolution.
"Your assessment results came through," Reyna said. "Veronica showed me."
"And?"
"You underperformed deliberately. Held back enough to stay within C-Rank parameters."
"Did I?"
"Don’t play coy. I felt your actual strength during our spar. You were pulling punches the entire time."
"Maybe you’re just that tough."
"Maybe you’re a terrible liar."
She leaned forward. The dress shifted. Revealed more of her cleavage than strictly necessary.
"Why hide it? Your real capabilities?"
"Same reason you maintain that public persona. Sometimes the truth is more dangerous than the mystery."
"La Sirena." She said the name with distaste. "The Siren. A character my sister invented when I was fifteen. Mature. Sophisticated. Seductive without being vulgar."
"And the real you?"
"The real me curses in Spanish when she’s angry. Watches magical girl anime to relax. Hasn’t been on a date in her entire life until tonight."
"Never?"
"Never." She looked away. Something vulnerable crossing her features. "I trained. I fought. I became a weapon. Weapons don’t date. They get deployed."
"That sounds lonely."
"It was." She met my eyes again. "Until you."
The confession hung between us. Heavy. Real.
"Reyna."
"Don’t say anything romantic. I’ll lose respect for you."
"I was going to say the appetizers are here."
The waiter had materialized again. Plates appeared. Disappeared. Professional silence maintained throughout.
We ate. We talked. She asked about my past. I gave her edited versions. Enough truth to be believable. Enough omission to stay safe.
She told me about growing up with Veronica. About the pressure. The expectations. The endless training that turned a child into a celebrity before she understood what celebrity meant.
"Veronica protected me from everything," she said. "Managers who wanted to exploit me. Sponsors who had inappropriate interests. Rivals who saw me as a threat." She finished her wine. "But she couldn’t protect me from myself. From my own inability to connect with people."
"You’re connecting now."
"Because you’re different." She reached across the table. Touched my hand. "You don’t want anything from me. You saved my life when losing would have benefited you. You look at me and see a person instead of a weapon or a prize."
"I see a woman who could probably kill me if she wanted to."
"I could. But I don’t want to." Her fingers traced patterns on my skin. "I want something else."
"What?"
"I don’t know yet." She pulled her hand back. "But I want to find out."
Dessert came. Conversation continued. The evening stretched into hours.
By the time the bill arrived, something had shifted.
Not quite romance. Not quite friendship. Something between. Something undefined.
We left together. The car waited outside.
"I’ll walk you back," I offered.
"It’s two blocks."
"Dangerous neighborhood."
"I can handle myself."
"I know. I want to walk you back anyway."
She considered this. Nodded.
We walked. Side by side. The city hummed around us.
At the entrance to the Olympus Rising compound, she stopped.
"Thank you. For tonight."
"Thank you for not killing me during the assessment."
She laughed. Genuine. Unguarded.
"Satori."
"Yeah?"
She stepped closer. Cupped my face in her hands.
"I’m going to kiss you again. And this time I’m not going to ask permission."
Her lips met mine. Softer than the arena. More deliberate. A statement rather than a demand.
The pendant burned cold against my chest.
I kissed her back anyway.
When we separated, her eyes were bright. Happy in a way I hadn’t seen before.
"Goodnight, Stray Dog."
"Goodnight, Crimson Comet."
She disappeared inside.
I walked back into the compound. Took the elevator to my floor. Found my room.
Maki waited inside. Cat form. Curled on the pillow.
"Master returns."
"Master returns."
"Master has complicated expression again."
"Master has complicated everything."