Chapter 575: The Masquerade Massacre

‘Malakor, you treacherous son of a bitch,’ Xavier realized instantly. The CEO had hired a second, completely reckless hit squad to ensure the assassination, entirely uncaring that the mutineers held the vault keys in their heads.

“Rin! Protect the traitors!” Xavier yelled over the panic.

Rin abandoned his stealth approach and lunged over a velvet couch. He kicked the plasma grenade mid-air, sending it detonating harmlessly against a reinforced pillar.

Xavier drew his sidearm to engage the ceiling assassins, but before he could even line up a shot, the entire eastern wall of the ballroom violently blew inward.

The reinforced glass shattered under a barrage of heavy missiles. The howling wind of the upper atmosphere rushed in, knocking elegant guests off their feet. Six heavily modified hover-bikes crashed through the opening, ridden by masked radicals waving crude kinetic rifles.

“Death to the Corporate Overlords!” the lead terrorist screamed through a battered megaphone. “Nobody moves! We are taking the CEO hostage!”

A third party had crashed the scene. The room descended into absolute, ridiculous chaos.

The rival hit squad, assuming the terrorists were Lorde’s hidden security reinforcements, immediately opened fire on the hover-bikes. The terrorists, thinking the ceiling assassins were corporate enforcers trying to thwart their kidnapping, fired back with heavy munitions.

Xavier stood perfectly still in the center of the crossfire, completely dumbfounded. He lowered his weapon and looked at Xalvoria.

‘I literally cannot make this up,’ he thought.

Xalvoria casually swatted a stray kinetic slug out of the air using a tiny pulse of void magic. She looked at the raging three-way firefight, then down at the dust settling on her pristine dress, and sighed in profound annoyance.

“Your human politics are incredibly stupid,” Xalvoria stated flatly.

“I agree,” Xavier muttered, ducking slightly as a hover-bike exploded overhead. “Guys! New plan! Protect Lorde and the mutineers from everyone else!”

A plasma bolt shattered the marble pillar next to Xavier, showering his tailored jacket with white dust. The Grand Ballroom had devolved into a surreal battlefield.

Above them, Malakor’s hired assassins rained down suppressive fire from the ruptured ceiling, completely oblivious to the fact that they were shooting at anti-corporate terrorists instead of Lorde’s actual guards.

The terrorists responded by revving their hover-bikes and launching crude kinetic rockets into the crystal chandeliers.

Xalvoria elegantly sidestepped a falling mercenary, not even bothering to raise her hands to defend herself. She smoothed a crease in her crimson gown and shot Xavier a look of pure contempt. ‘I am not lifting a single finger to clean up this human mess.’

“Don’t worry, Empress,” Xavier smirked, perfectly reading her expression over the roar of gunfire. “Sit this one out. You look too good to get blood on that silk.”

He ducked under a stray laser beam and sprinted across the chaotic dance floor. Rin was already positioned at the VIP lounge, his twin blades acting as a silver shield to deflect incoming shrapnel away from the booth.

Lyra stood nearby, eagerly melting the front chassis of an oncoming hover-bike with a concentrated stream of hellfire. The rider screamed and crashed into a towering champagne fountain.

Xavier vaulted over an overturned velvet table and landed directly next to Lorde. The portly CEO was trembling violently on the floor, clutching his cybernetic eye, while the three mutineers cowered behind him like frightened children.

“You!” Lorde grabbed the lapel of Xavier’s jacket, his face pale with absolute terror. “You are heavily armed! Are you elite corporate security? I will pay you anything! Ten million USC! Twenty! Just get me out of this slaughterhouse alive!”

‘He has absolutely no idea who we are,’ Xavier thought, a brilliant idea forming in his mind. He glanced at the mutineers, deciding to leave the biological vault keys for later. The traitors weren’t going anywhere while bullets were flying, and this presented the perfect opportunity to milk the situation.

“You are in luck, CEO Lorde,” Xavier announced, pulling the man to his feet while staying behind the cover of the heavy table. “Vanguard Private Security is officially on the clock. Stay behind my people.”

Requiem stepped in front of the VIP booth to establish a blockade. He unbuttoned his massive trench coat, revealing thick mechanical plating, and casually absorbed a volley of kinetic slugs that flattened harmlessly against his broad chest.

Seeing the perimeter secured, Xavier tapped the discrete console on his collar. The three metallic drones detached and buzzed to life.

[ Stream Initiated. Viewers joining: 967 million… and climbing. ]

“What is up, galaxy!” Xavier yelled over the deafening roar of a plasma explosion. He adjusted his silver half-mask and offered the camera a charismatic, slightly bewildered smile. “I know I just logged off, but you guys are not going to believe my luck. I came to the PurpleSpring Penthouses for a quiet, high-society masquerade, and suddenly, two completely different armed factions decided to crash the party at the exact same time!”

The chat overlay immediately flooded his vision with panicked and highly amused text.

[StarGazer99]: BRO CANNOT CATCH A BREAK LMAO!

[VoidWalker]: Are those hover-bikes inside a penthouse?!

[ChaosTheory]: Xavier just attracts warzones wherever he goes.

[CreditWhale]: Donating 50k just to see him survive this.

“It is a complete coincidence, I swear,” Xavier lied smoothly to his massive audience, walking along the edge of the VIP lounge as if he were touring a dangerous museum exhibit. “On my left, we have what looks like anti-corporate radicals. On my right, professional assassins who apparently forgot to coordinate their schedules. And me? I am just an innocent streamer trying to protect a terrified CEO who hired me on the spot.”

He gestured toward the dance floor just as Klatos dropped from the ceiling rafters. The avian warrior flared his bladed wings, cleanly bisecting an assassin before launching himself at a terrorist sniper on the balcony.

“As you can see, my personal security team is handling the situation with absolute professionalism,” Xavier provided live commentary, casually dodging a stray champagne flute that shattered near his boot. He pointed the drone’s camera toward Reva, who was perched atop a ruined ice sculpture, methodically placing armor-piercing rounds through the visors of the ceiling mercenaries.

Lorde stared at Xavier in utter disbelief, ducking violently as another explosion rocked the room. “Why are you talking to floating cameras?! Shoot someone!”

“I am documenting the incident for insurance purposes, sir,” Xavier replied without missing a single beat. He turned back to the hovering drone, flashing a bright grin. “Let’s get fifty thousand likes on the stream, chat, and I’ll show you how we extract a billionaire from a three-way crossfire.”