Chapter 592: A Business Decision
Chapter 592: A Business Decision
Her footsteps retreated down the hallway. Maki sat on the floor with her fur standing on end and her tails puffed to twice their normal size, looking like a tiny angry pom-pom.
"Master’s building has aggressive humans."
"That’s just corporate culture, Maki. Get used to it."
"Maki will bite the next one who knocks."
"Please don’t."
I showered. Changed into the clothes that had been laid out the night before by whoever Veronica had assigned to manage my wardrobe. Dark slacks, a white shirt with subtle texture, a navy jacket that fit too well to be coincidence. Someone had taken my measurements while I wasn’t paying attention, which was either impressive service or mildly terrifying surveillance.
Maki refused to return to the shadow space.
"Maki has been in the shadow space for sixteen hours. It smells like old boots and cosmic disappointment. Maki demands fresh air and tuna."
"You can’t walk around Olympus Rising headquarters in human form."
"Cat form then."
"Fine. But you stay on my shoulder and you don’t talk to anyone."
"Maki makes no promises."
She transformed with the familiar shimmer of darkness folding in on itself, and a sleek black cat with twin tails settled onto my right shoulder like she owned the real estate. Her golden eyes surveyed the hallway with the regal contempt of a creature who considered human architecture adequate at best.
The elevator deposited us on the executive floor. Glass walls. Panoramic city views. The kind of corporate opulence that made you wonder how many D-Rank Gate runs it took to fund a single conference table.
Veronica sat at the head of a long table in a cream-colored blouse and tailored pants, her blonde hair swept back and her emerald eyes bright despite the hour. A tablet rested beneath her left hand. A coffee cup beneath her right. She looked like she’d been awake for hours. Probably had been.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
I sat across from her. A plate appeared in front of me courtesy of a silent attendant. Eggs. Toast. Fruit. Orange juice. Coffee that smelled like it cost more per cup than most people’s hourly wage.
Maki’s nose twitched on my shoulder.
"Cute cat," Veronica said.
"Emotional support animal."
"Does your emotional support animal have two tails?"
"Birth defect."
Veronica’s lips twitched. She didn’t push it. Smart woman.
"Today’s schedule," she said, swiping through her tablet. "Morning block: combat theory seminar with our tactical division. You’ll sit in on a real briefing for an upcoming A-Rank Gate operation. I want you to see how a professional guild prepares for high-level engagements."
"Observation only?"
"Unless you feel like volunteering for an A-Rank incursion during your internship, which would void approximately seventeen insurance policies and give my legal team simultaneous aneurysms."
"I’ll observe."
"Afternoon block: physical conditioning assessment. Different from yesterday’s evaluation. This one measures baseline recovery, stamina under sustained load, and response adaptation over a two-hour period."
"So they’re going to beat me up for two hours and see how fast I bounce back."
"Elegantly stated." Veronica set down her tablet. "There’s something else."
Her tone shifted. The corporate mask didn’t slip. It changed shape, revealing something underneath that looked a lot like genuine concern.
"Reyna came to my office at five this morning."
I stopped chewing.
"She asked me to cancel the alliance proposal."
"What?"
"She said, and I quote: ’I don’t want him to sign with us because of me. I want him to choose us because we’re the best option. If he signs because some pendeja guilt-tripped him into it through his dick, it doesn’t count.’"
I stared at Veronica.
"Your sister said that."
"My sister has a vocabulary that would make a longshoreman blush. She gets it from our mother. The point is..." Veronica folded her hands on the table. "Reyna wants whatever happens between you two to exist separately from whatever happens between you and Olympus Rising. She doesn’t want to be the reason you make a business decision."
"That’s surprisingly mature for someone who challenged me to dinner by punching me in the face."
"Reyna communicates primarily through violence and poorly concealed affection. It’s a family trait."
Maki sneezed on my shoulder. Whether this was commentary or allergies remained unclear.
"So where does that leave the proposal?"
"Exactly where it was. On the table. With the same terms." Veronica’s expression hardened into something more businesslike. "I don’t need you to date my sister to want you in my organization, Satori. I need you because you’re a first-year student who killed an A-Rank entity with a bat, survived a Black Gate, won a national tournament, and have the single most engaged social media following of any Hunter prospect in the last decade. You’re not a romantic investment. You’re a generational talent walking around in a body that shouldn’t be able to do what it does."
Silence.
"Also," she added, "Reyna likes you. And I want my sister to be happy. These things are not contradictory."
I ate my eggs. Drank my coffee. Considered the woman sitting across from me.
Veronica Cabana operated on multiple levels simultaneously. She was a businesswoman who built an empire from a working-class neighborhood in Del Mar Heights. She was an S-Rank Hunter whose Aspect could turn an entire battlefield into a concert hall of loyalty and devotion. She was a sister who had dedicated her life to creating a stage worthy of Reyna’s talent.
And she was watching me with those emerald eyes, waiting for a response that would tell her everything she needed to know about the kind of person I was.
"I’ll review the proposal," I said. "Properly. With people I trust. And I’ll give you an honest answer before the internship ends."
"That’s all I ask."
"One condition."
"Name it."
"Whatever happens between me and Reyna stays between me and Reyna. No cameras. No PR spin. No corporate fairy tale about the Stray Dog and La Sirena finding love on the battlefield. If she wants to see me, she sees me. If she wants to stop, she stops. No interference."
Veronica studied me for a long time.
"Agreed."
We shook hands across the table. Her grip was firm. Professional. The handshake of someone who understood that trust was earned through consistency rather than spectacle.
Maki leaned forward from my shoulder and sniffed Veronica’s wrist.
"Your cat is very bold."
"She’s three hundred years old. Boundaries are more of a suggestion at that point."