The strike of midnight.
Inside the Primordials base.
The room was quite dim, a faint blue light illuminated the entire room, as the walls seed to be made of cobblestones.
It was just as he rembered.
He had received a ssage from Ivan about the matters regarding the Primordial.
According to him, most of them left. The only ones who remained without question were Ivan, the Third Seat, and the Sixth seat.
It seed like their respect for Ciel only remained for Ciel. They couldn't accept a new leader. However, so of them gave Brandon a chance to convince them.
To convince them that he could lead the group.
But only two remained.
The Seventh, and the Ninth seat.
In total, there were five seats present.
After all, they took on dangerous tasks. It was them who had kept the Wraithbounds at bay without even any recognition, while at the sa ti, living their lives anonymously.
So worked for the governnt, while so lived as regular citizens.
But it had to be said that there had been a long partnership between the Primordials and the Imperial Army.
After all, the Imperial Army couldn't account for all the Wraithbounds.
Brandon sat on a seat. In the middle was a large oval table, coupled with several seats on each side.
In total, six seats were filled, leaving six empty.
The first one to speak was the Sixth seat, a woman with hazel locks and blue eyes.
She stared at him intently, her gaze felt quite pressuring.
"First of all, what do you plan going forward?"
Of course, Brandon had to be pressured.
He had just killed their Leader, a person they had blindly followed throughout the years.
The person who had most likely given them a ho when no one would take them in.
That was the kind of person Ciel, or rather, Alia was. Regardless if she didn't have her mories, she was still Alia.
And for scheming to kill his sister, Brandon had already forgiven her.
Circumstances vary, and Ciel was put in a position to kill Belle under Jin's orders.
He couldn't bla her.
Not her.
Anyone but her.
After pondering for a while, Brandon had co to a conclusion.
"To dismantle this entire organization."
Thump!
One of the seats stood up, smacking the table. A man with black hair and a single silver eye, his other eye had been covered with a patch. Most probably, a scar from a previous job.
The Ninth seat.
"That's it!"
He glared at Brandon, his tone told Brandon all he needed to know.
The man disliked him. Maybe even disgusted.
Not just him, but the others had mixed reactions as well. Apathy, interest, dissatisfaction, they all had their own opinions.
"I stayed because it was Ciel's order. You could've said sothing else, but really!? You're starting off with that!?"
"Calm down, Hein."
One of the seats motioned with his hand. A man with fiery red hair and green eyes. Kael, the Third seat.
"Let him finish."
"Tsk."
Hein, the Ninth seat, sat back down and crossed his arms, showing clear disapproval of Brandon.
Kael turned his head to face Brandon, a faint smile on his lips. But that smile….
It sent a chill down his spine. As if Kael was telling him to, 'Choose your next words carefully.'
Of course, he was not stupid.
He knew just what he was saying. He had to appear bold, to show them that he isn't a pushover. To show them that he wasn't a clueless 17–year old.
Feeling the pressure, Brandon swallowed his saliva and continued.
"Like I was saying, I plan on dismantling this organization and reconstructing it anew. For instance, the seats that have been left open. At the mont, this continent lacks manpower. For that reason, I plan on decreasing the seats and slowly fill them up with mbers I trust."
Kael pinched his chin as he tried digesting Brandon's words. Shortly after, he responded.
"I get what you're trying to say. While it is true that the seats are currently vacant, it's not so easy to fill them. Added to the fact that we need to trust these 'new' mbers first, in any case, we don't even trust you yet."
Kael grabbed a cup of water and gulped it down.
Then, he continued.
"Where was I? Ah, right. The way you're talking, it seems as if you plan on fully revamping The Primordials without asking for any of our opinions."
"Opinions?"
Brandon scoffed, showing them that he isn't intimidated in the least.
"This is a rcenary group. Since when were your opinions validated?"
All the mbers scowled at that mont. All of them, except Ivan, who looked frightened.
No, there was one more.
Kael, whose lips were slowly pulling up.
"Heh. You got there."
Kael shrugged his shoulders.
This was not an interrogation. They didn't care whatever changed Brandon planned for the organization.
It was a test of character. To see if Brandon was actually up to the task.
It was especially important since Brandon was clearly the weakest present in the room.
But from the Fifth to the First seat, strength didn't matter.
It was ingenuity.
Ciel was clearly not that strong when compared to the Third Seat, Kael.
Yet regardless, she took pride in the Second Seat. The Leader herself. The woman who had brought them all together.
They had never once questioned why Second, why not First?
But now, it all made sense to them.
Because the First seat belonged to soone else.
"Let show all of you what I have in mind."
With that, Brandon presented several docunts. Each docunt contained all of his plans going forward. From his business, to several Wraithbound locations he could rember from Raven's mories.
And also….
"Are you sure about this?"
People he suspects to be illegal immigrants.
"Yes."
Brandon nodded his head at Kael's words. Each and every seat mber were currently scrutinizing the docunts strewn before them.
"Any evidence?"
"Not yet."
"Then…?"
"For that, I need all of your help."
***
It was a Sunday.
Brandon had finished his preparations for the Labyrinth Dive that would occur tomorrow.
But today, he had an appointnt.
—My Father would like to et you this Sunday, October 2, 2149. 1:00 PM.
It was a ssage from Claire. Sent about two days ago.
But there was sothing way more important.
—Sorry it took a while, they had to validate the evidence of your contractual relationship with the Imperial Army.
Claire's typing had improved.
Was this really Claire?
—Please be ready and be sure not to make any mistakes. My Father is a busy man. Even if you were soone important to the Imperial Army, my Father could care less.
Her father's personality was quite understandable. After all, even he had the Imperial Army under his paycheck.
Victoria Corporation was just that influential in the continent.
However, Brandon had a trump–card.
"Ye sure about bringing with ye, lad?"
He had brought Ironaxe, who wore a clever disguise, with him.
Brandon knew just what kind of person Claire's father was.
All he had eyes for was money. And Brandon's business was a money making opportunity.
Gathering his thoughts together, Brandon stepped inside the Victoria Corporation building.
Brandon looked around first. The lobby of Victoria Corporation was sleek and orderly. The polished marble floors glead under bright, evenly spaced lights.
As he looked in front of him, a large reception desk dominated the center, manned by a receptionist who greeted visitors with a courteous nod.
To the left, a small waiting area featured leather chairs and glass-topped tables, offering a clear view of a manicured courtyard through wide, floor-to-ceiling windows.
On the right, a row of silver elevators quietly opened and closed, carrying employees to and from their destinations.
The entire place scread, 'A nine to five job.'
They may have appeared quite jolly, but as Brandon looked closely, there were clearly heavy bags in their eyelids.
Yep, it was a nine to five job.
Ding!
The elevator resounded, a small ding! And Claire erged from its sliding doors.
Claire appeared rather different compared to her usual look. In the past, she had often worn casual clothing. While in Imperial Academy, of course, she adorned the standard uniform.
But at the mont, she was currently wearing what seems to be business attire.
A navy–blue vest paired with a red tie. A black skirt that was rather quite bold, showing off her pale–sleek legs. Her hair which had grown quite long compared to the past, seed to be done as well, fixed into so sort of hairstyle.
She looked like a secretary, if Brandon had to sum it up.
She then appeared before him.
"Good, you're just in ti."
Then, her gaze lingered on the suspicious looking midget right beside Brandon.
"And this is?"
Claire asked.
"One of my employees."
Brandon felt a long stare from Ironaxe as he uttered those words. However, he waved it off and completely ignored the dwarf.
"Right, follow ."
Just like that, they stepped into the elevator.
Click—
Brandon stealthily took a picture of Claire. However, he had failed to hide it from her since he forgot to put his phone on silent, a clicking sound ringing.
"Hey! What—!"
With widened eyes, Claire exclaid.
However, despite that failure, Brandon used it as an opportunity.
"Reinhard's gonna wanna see this."
"You…"
Ding!
They arrived at their floor.
"Damn it. Delete that you fucke—"
"Nuh–uh."
Brandon waved his index finger.
"Tsk. At least let see if I look good in it."
"Don't worry. You look the sa every ti."
"And is that good?"
"See for yourself."
Brandon showed her the picture.
"Oh, I look quite sexy."
"Pfft…"
Brandon couldn't help but chuckle, hearing those words.
Sexy?
As if.
Claire only frowned and shook her head.
Arriving inside a fine–looking office, Brandon and Ironaxe were instructed to sit on the couch while they waited for Claire's Father to arrive.
"Coffee or tea?"
Claire asked, standing right behind the refreshnts.
"Coffee."
"Okay, what about your little friend over there?"
"Little—Nmh!"
Ironaxe was just about to burst before Brandon quickly covered his mouth, and said,
"Tea for him."
"Uh…. Okay."
Truth be told, Brandon felt a little bit nervous. It had to be said that Claire's father was a powerful mage who had made a na for himself in the past.
Not like Brandon hadn't t any powerful mages throughout the progressions, but at the mont, he needed sothing from Claire's father.
For that reason, he wore his best attire and even fixed his hair.
But that nervousness quickly died down as soon as he gathered his thoughts.
'Right, this is nothing.'
They were nothing.
Compared to the bleak future that he saw, none of them mattered.
Using those thoughts as a coping chanism, Brandon took a deep breath.
Creaaaaak….
At that mont, the door slowly creaked open and a man erged soon after.
Step—
The man stepped in the room with caution. The air around him told Brandon of the authority the man held.
Brandon traced the man's steps. Dark–purple hair that resembled Claire's, a beard coupled with glasses that etched on his features, while he too, wore business attire.
The man that was once called the "Lightning Emperor" in the past. The man that had trained Bellion Van during his youth. And currently, the man that had all the businesses in the continent groveling at their feet.
The CEO of Victoria Corporation, and the Father of Claire Victoria.
Jain Victoria.
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