Chapter 320 Pleasure.

Chapter 320: 320 Pleasure.

I completely hated wearing the bow tie. And the tailored tux. And the polished patent-leather shoes. And, well, pretty much every single restrictive thing I was currently dressed up in.

There is a common, misconception that a tuxedo is essentially the exact same thing as a suit.

I can definitively tell you the difference: I could level a police precinct in a standard two-piece suit. In a tuxedo, however? I guess I was about to find out.

I wasn’t a slob by any stretch of the imagination, but I never dressed up for anything other than board meetings, and even those were strictly business casual.

To be completely honest, I only really felt comfortable wearing heavy, billowy capes, thick iron armor, and a metal helmet shaped roughly like a crown.

But that wardrobe absolutely wasn’t going to cut it tonight, so I was currently dressed sharper than a Bowie knife, entirely thanks to Lilith.

"Ooooh, stop pulling at it, Milesyyyy!" Lilith giggled, lightly swatting at my hands as the glass elevator hummed smoothly up the side of the skyscraper.

"It’s a bit tight around the collar," I grumbled.

"It’s totally supposed to be! Besides, you look super-duper handsome! Like a billionaire superspy, but evil! Yay!"

"I guess," I sighed, adjusting my cuffs. "I just wish I could wear a cape with it."

"Give me exactly three weeks and a viral social media campaign, and I could totally have every single CEO in the nation wearing capes to work!" she beamed, her spade-tipped tail swishing happily behind her. "But for tonight, you just need to smile! Smile, smile, smile!" she cheered as the elevator dinged cheerfully at the twentieth floor. "It’s time for our grand entrance!"

It took an ungodly amount of corporate capital to throw a party as swanky as this one, to say absolutely nothing of the exclusive guest list.

I probably should have expected a massive turnout given that Lilith possessed an invitation she actually took seriously, but even so, I was genuinely shocked.

As soon as we stepped out of the elevator into the sprawling ballroom, I caught sight of A-list celebrities, captains of industry, and media moguls filling the room.

The low, polite hum of extreme wealth ebbed and flowed around us. It was a sea of tailored tuxedos and gorgeous, impossibly expensive gowns—including several ironic designer pieces that literally said ’Fuck the Rich’ across the back, which is always a dead giveaway that you’ve successfully arrived at a pretentiously wealthy gala.

Huge, floor-to-ceiling windows looked out on the glittering Metropolis skyline below.

The marble floor was polished like a mirror, a live jazz band played smoothly in the corner, and quiet islands of cocktail tables were scattered near the walls so the elite could rest and casually chat about hostile takeovers.

I honestly didn’t like these sorts of scenes. Especially not as a civilian participant. I’ll willingly tell on myself a little here: I enjoyed crashing these galas significantly more than hobnobbing at them.

There was so much money, lineage, and bureaucratic power sloshing around the room. And it wasn’t like my sort of power. It was a subtler yet, in many ways, much stronger power.

The power to utterly ruin thousands of lives with a single, quiet phone call. To financially kill entire towns. To close down or open up manufacturing sectors.

It was a power with way more global reach than my magnetism, and standing in the middle of it made me exactly as comfortable as the bow tie currently strangling my neck.

Lilith, on the other hand, was utterly, flawlessly in her element.

One single step onto that polished marble floor, and it was like every billionaire in the room was physically compelled to look her way.

Not even a rampaging kaiju could make that big of a social impression so effortlessly.

Her red skin shone like freshly poured wine under the chandeliers, and she flashed a massive, bubbly smile around the room that carried all the inescapable gravitational pull of a black hole.

No sooner did the initial shock of her entrance fade than the elite were drawn directly toward us, pulled in like my own magnetism was tugging at their diamond jewelry.

A tidal wave of expensive gowns and tailored suits washed up around the succubus, wealthy voices literally running over each other in their desperate urgency to greet her first.

"Lilith! Oh my god, it has been absolute ages!"

"Lilith! So incredibly glad to finally meet you in person. Albert Fitzgibbons. We own the newspaper chain?"

"Lilith! What an absolute surprise seeing you here!"

"Hiiiii everyone! Oh my gosh, where else would I possibly be?" Lilith cheered, letting out a bright, musical giggle that was instantly, desperately echoed by the massive crowd of corporate sycophants swarming around her.

I hung back a bit, genuinely gawping.

I mean, sure, I knew Lilith was important in this world of greased money and sequins, but I guess I didn’t quite realize exactly what that meant until this moment.

I guess these high-society types desperately needed a supernatural connection to kiss up to.

And since nobody in their right mind would ever try to kiss up to the Edna herself without getting their souls permanently gutted, a bubbly, highly connected succubus was the absolute premier VIP ticket.

And although I already knew Lilith had hyperactive charisma to spare, it was practically pouring out of her in waves as she enthusiastically chatted up the swarming crowd.

Her glossy lips dropped names like pearls, acting as if every single person in front of her was her absolute best friend in the entire world, even if she had never met them before in her life. It was a terrifying, masterful skill, making everyone feel perfectly special with the absolute minimum amount of effort.

Needless to say, for once in my career, I was utterly, completely overshadowed.

But hell, that worked perfectly for me. I wasn’t here to fawn over Lilith’s designer shoes or have a fun, polite chat with the local robber barons.

In fact, her massive distraction gave me the perfect opportunity to slip away and cross the ballroom floor unnoticed.

I quietly melded into the edge of the room, casually snatching a flute of champagne from the silver tray of a passing waiter. I took a slow sip just to occupy myself, letting my eyes scan the crowd.

And I didn’t just use my eyes. I sent out a low, invisible pulse of raw magnetism, silently feeling out the metal that filled the room to the gills.

There weren’t a lot of obvious weapons, aside from a few standard security goons scattered near the walls.

Even without my powers, their burly frames stuffed into cheap suits would have easily marked them out, but the heavy metal pistols holstered inside their jackets lit up in my mind like Christmas lights.

I also pinged a couple of high-end cybernetic pacemakers and artificial limbs among the elderly billionaires.

More importantly, I pinged one specific woman who seemed to be wearing a highly advanced, interwoven suit of power armor completely concealed underneath her elegant evening gown. It was incredibly high-end engineering.

I needed to move fast. This exact sort of high-society event was precisely the kind of thing a rogue cape like me would get paid to crash.

And it didn’t much matter if the crasher was a paid corporate antagonist or just a genuine lunatic off the street.

The absolute second some guy in bright spandex burst through those expensive windows and started slinging monologues, this party was completely over.

I had to find Bradburn before the inevitable chaos started.

Luckily, that wasn’t too hard. Lilith had completely thinned out the center of the room, drawing half the guest list to her.

I easily spotted the good doctor over near the jazz band, quietly sipping a drink and listening to the music with an absolutely gorgeous woman.

She was the exact same woman who was loaded with subtle, concealed weaponry and cybernetics under her tight black dress.

I looked him over closely from across the room. Doctor Bradburn Thaumaturge fit the corporate headshots I’d pulled off the internet to an absolute tee.

He was your classic, billionaire super-scientist. The sort of wealthy genius who didn’t really go in for dirty street-level fist fights, but instead hired highly specialized bodyguards to handle the actual physical labor.

Looking as nonchalant as I possibly could, I made my way directly toward his table.

"Doctor Thaumaturge, I presume?" I said smoothly.

Bradburn turned toward me, his brow furrowing slightly as he tensed in a subtle, highly practiced way.

"Yes?"

I put out my hand, keeping my posture entirely unthreatening. "Miles. Pleasure to meet you."