Chapter 61: My Stepmom’s Perception Stat is Alarming
Natalia sank deeper into the plush leather sofa, stretching her toes apart with the foam separators. The warm afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting the living room in a gentle glow. Kimiko sat beside her, humming softly as she applied a second coat of cherry-red polish to her own nails.
"This is nice," Kimiko said, her voice warm and maternal. "Just us girls for the afternoon."
"Yeah," Natalia agreed, trying to sound enthusiastic despite the lingering awkwardness from their bath. She reached for the remote. "Mind if I turn on sothing?"
"Go ahead. The new episode of Hunter Hot Takes should be on." Kimiko waved her hand, careful not to disturb the wet polish.
The massive screen flickered to life, imdiately filling with the animated chatter of four won seated around a glass table. The set behind them glittered with holographic Hunter emblems and flashy graphics.
"—and that’s why I think the new armor regulations are absolutely killing fashion innovation!" Mila, a willowy woman in an outlandish feathered top, was saying. Her diamond-studded nails flashed as she gestured dramatically.
"Oh please," Beatrice cut in, her prosthetic arm gleaming under the studio lights as she leaned forward. "The VHC isn’t trying to make a fashion statent. They’re trying to keep inexperienced Hunters from dying because they chose style over substance."
"Ladies, ladies!" Chloe, the host, clapped her hands together. Her pink hair quite literally sparked with electricity, sending tiny arcs dancing around her head. "We’ve got bigger news to discuss! The VHC provisional rankings are in, and of course, the big story is Reyna ’La Sirena’ Cabana, officially certified as an A-Rank with S-Rank potential!"
"Were we surprised? No!" Mila interjected. "Were we gagged by her custom Olympus Rising combat suit? Absolutely! The way they integrated those lightning motifs along the seams while maintaining full mobility—"
"Forget the suit," Beatrice interrupted, waving her prosthetic dismissively. "The real story isn’t the ranking we all expected. The story is the confrontation."
The screen transitioned to grainy cell phone footage. The video was shaky, but the figures at its center were unmistakable. Reyna Cabana, resplendent in crimson, had stopped in the middle of the VHC hall. Her entire entourage froze around her as she approached a tall young man with crimson-colored hair.
Natalia’s heart stopped. The magazine in her lap slipped, forgotten.
That was Satori. Her Satori.
"And who is this mystery man?!" Chloe’s voice bubbled with excitent as the footage continued. "Our sources say his na is Satori, a newly registered hunter with a C-Rank Aspect called ’Thermal Incision’! But look at that face!"
The program cut to a high-definition still image of Satori, capturing him mid-smirk as he faced Reyna. The lighting in the hall cast dramatic shadows across his features, highlighting his transford jawline and the intensity in his eyes.
"Oh, he’s a snack," Mila purred, leaning forward to get a better look. "That’s so tender young at right there. Look at the confidence! How many n—and won—would kill to have La Sirena’s undivided attention like that?"
Natalia’s fingers curled into fists.
"Forget his looks," Beatrice said, her expression thoughtful. "Look at his posture. He’s not intimidated. She’s an A-Rank, and he’s standing there like he’s the one with the higher rank."
"And the hair!" Chloe squealed, her own pink locks crackling with increased electrical activity. "They have almost the sa shade of crimson! Is it a sibling rivalry we don’t know about? A secret romance?"
The word "romance" sent a spike of white-hot fury through Natalia’s chest. Her vision blurred at the edges, tinged with crimson that matched Satori’s hair. How dare they suggest... how dare that bitch look at him like that?
That lazy, infuriating, sexy smirk of his. That was her smirk. He was supposed to look at her like that, not so A-Rank with her perfect hair and her perfect body and her perfect fucking Aspect.
"They’re making it sound like there’s sothing between them," Natalia said, unable to keep the edge from her voice.
Kimiko didn’t answer imdiately. When Natalia glanced over, she found her stepmother watching her with an unreadable expression, her magazine lying forgotten in her lap.
"You seem upset," Kimiko observed quietly.
"I’m not upset," Natalia snapped, too quickly. "It’s just ridiculous how they’re spinning it. She probably just wanted to intimidate the competition."
Kimiko’s gaze remained steady, searching. Sothing in her eyes shifted, a subtle realization dawning. She looked from the screen—where Satori stood tall and confident—back to Natalia and the white-knuckled fists in her lap.
"You care very much about how they portray your stepbrother," Kimiko said, her tone carefully neutral.
Natalia’s stomach knotted. "He’s family. Of course I care."
On screen, the panel had moved on to speculating about potential rivalries at New Vein Academy.
Kimiko’s gaze drifted to Natalia’s neck, where earlier she had spotted what she’d called a "training bruise." Her mind flashed to Natalia’s evasiveness about her romantic life, the way she blushed whenever Satori’s na ca up. The pieces were aligning in a pattern Kimiko didn’t want to see.
She looks at him the way I look at Luka when another woman gets too close at a guild party.
That’s not how a sister is supposed to look at a brother.
A chill ran through Kimiko as more connections ford. The mysterious boyfriend Natalia wouldn’t na. The unexplained bruises. The sudden, dramatic improvent in the relationship between two siblings who had barely tolerated each other for years.
What if there is no mystery boyfriend? What if...
No. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. They were siblings—step-siblings, yes, but still family.
The sound of a key turning in the front door shattered the tension.
"We’re ho!" Luka’s booming voice filled the condo.
Natalia shot to her feet, nail separators falling forgotten to the floor. Her heart hamred against her ribs. A
Kimiko watched her stepdaughter’s reaction with growing horror. The girl’s face had transford at the sound of the door, eyes bright with an emotion that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but desperate longing.
What have these children been doing while we were gone?
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