Chapter 49: Public Relations

Chapter 49: Chapter 49: Public Relations

The stage lights were blinding.

Standing up there felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. Hundreds of the wealthiest, most powerful people in Genesis City were staring at them. The press pit was a chaotic mess of flashing bulbs and shouted questions.

Sterling didn’t flinch at the flashing lights. He thrived in them. He took a single step toward Evelyn, opening his arms like a relieved father welcoming home a lost child. It was a perfect, calculated move. If she hugged him back, the tension defused. If she pushed him away, she looked unstable and bitter.

Evelyn didn’t do either.

She simply stepped slightly to the side, letting Sterling’s open arms hover in empty space.

"Don’t touch me," Evelyn said quietly, a pleasant, camera-ready smile plastered on her face. Her voice was low enough that only Sterling and Donald could hear it. "You might get ash on your suit."

Sterling’s smile tightened. He dropped his arms naturally, turning the rejected hug into a polite gesture toward the microphone.

"Evelyn," Sterling murmured, keeping his voice out of the mic. "You are making a massive mistake. You don’t know the forces you’re playing with."

"I’m looking right at him," Evelyn shot back.

Sterling turned to the microphone. He leaned in, his voice instantly shifting to that warm, resonant tone that commanded entire boardrooms.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Sterling announced, his voice echoing across the silent ballroom. "This is truly a miracle. The Iron Vanguard takes care of its own. We were told Evelyn’s injuries in the Obsidian Vault were fatal. Clearly, the medical reports were wrong. We are overjoyed to have her back."

A murmur of relief washed through the crowd. Sterling was spinning it. He was trying to make her look like a confused, traumatized soldier who just needed help.

"In fact," Sterling continued, placing a hand over his heart, "the Guild will personally fund Evelyn’s continued rehabilitation. Whatever medical care she needs to fix her shattered mana core, the Iron Vanguard will provide."

Evelyn didn’t wait for him to finish. She reached out and grabbed the microphone stand, pulling it a few inches toward herself.

"Rehabilitation?" Evelyn asked, her voice echoing loudly. She gave a short, sharp laugh. "Sterling, I don’t need a hospital. I need my back pay."

The crowd went dead silent again.

"My core is perfectly fine," Evelyn said.

She didn’t shout. She just let her Vanguard aura flare.

It wasn’t the weak, sputtering light of a broken B-Rank. It was a dense, heavy, blindingly bright sapphire blue. The pure kinetic pressure of her aura rolled off the stage in a physical wave. The champagne glasses on the front row tables rattled. Several politicians took a nervous step back.

Sterling’s gray eyes widened for a fraction of a second. The composure finally cracked.

He had personally watched the Guild doctors declare her core completely shattered. A shattered core didn’t heal. It was a permanent death sentence for an Awakener’s career. But the aura rolling off Evelyn right now was thicker and more violent than it had ever been.

Donald stood slightly behind her, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his midnight-blue suit. His golden [Valuation Eye] was active behind his mask, processing the room in real-time.

[Target: Iron Vanguard Investors (Multiple)]

[Status: Panicked. Trust levels dropping by 14%.]

[Target: Sterling (Level 58 A-Rank)]

[Status: Highly agitated. Suppressing murderous intent.]

Sterling realized the "broken soldier" narrative wasn’t going to work. He pivoted instantly.

"A remarkable recovery," Sterling said into the mic, his voice slightly louder, fighting to keep control of the room. "But the fact remains, Evelyn. You have been gone for months. The Guild cannot wait for ghosts. We have a city to protect."

Sterling raised a hand, gesturing toward the heavy velvet curtains at the back of the stage.

"Which is why," Sterling declared, "my announcement still stands. Evelyn Vance is an honored veteran of this Guild. But Kaelen is the future."

The curtains parted.

A massive man stepped onto the stage. He was at least six-foot-six, wearing heavy, charcoal-plated armor laced with glowing crimson runes. A massive two-handed broadsword rested easily on his shoulder. He had a thick, messy beard and a brutal, arrogant sneer on his face.

Kaelen walked to the center of the stage, his heavy boots making the wooden floorboards groan. He stopped right next to Sterling, looking down at Evelyn.

"A-Rank Berserker," Kaelen grunted, his voice like gravel grinding together. He didn’t use the microphone, but his voice was loud enough for the press pit to hear. "I cleared the Obsidian Vault yesterday, Vance. Solo. Nothing in there even scratched my armor. It’s a shame your party couldn’t handle a few C-Rank grunts."

The insult was deliberate. He was trying to bait her into swinging her sword. If she drew a weapon on stage, Sterling’s guards would have a legal reason to execute her on the spot.

Evelyn just looked Kaelen up and down, her expression completely unimpressed.

"You cleared the Obsidian Vault?" Evelyn asked dryly. "Congratulations. Did you find my spare boots down there? I think I left them in the boss room. You look like you could use the lift."

A few reporters in the front row actually snickered.

Kaelen’s sneer vanished. His face flushed dark red, and his hand tightened around the hilt of his massive broadsword. "Watch your mouth, stray."

"Or what?" Evelyn tilted her head. "You’ll swing that oversized piece of scrap metal in a room full of billionaires? Go ahead, Kaelen. Let’s see how long you stay Vanguard after you accidentally decapitate the Mayor."

Kaelen took a furious step forward.

Sterling held up a hand, stopping his new Vanguard in his tracks. The Guild Master looked at Evelyn, then finally shifted his cold, gray eyes to Donald.

"This is Guild business," Sterling said, his voice dropping into a hard, threatening register. He pointed a thick finger at Donald. "Civilians are not permitted on this stage. Security. Remove him."

Two heavily armored Iron Vanguard guards at the base of the stairs stepped forward, reaching for the hilts of their stun batons.

"I wouldn’t do that," Donald said.

It was the first time Donald spoke directly to the crowd. He didn’t yell. He didn’t use Evelyn’s kinetic amplifier trick. He just spoke with the calm, absolute authority of a man who owned the room.

He pulled his left hand out of his pocket. Between his index and middle finger, he held up the solid black data-card.

"I’m not a civilian," Donald said smoothly, his eyes locking onto the Mayor and the group of wealthy Guild investors sitting at the front tables. "I’m a private equity investor. And right now, I’m holding thirty percent of the industrial sector’s development bonds."

That was a lie. He didn’t own any bonds. But nobody in the room knew exactly how much money his SSS+ System had dumped onto that black card. The pure, unadulterated confidence in his voice made it sound like gospel truth.

The Mayor’s eyes went wide. The investors leaned forward, suddenly very interested.

"Sterling," Donald continued, walking slowly to the edge of the stage, looking down at the Guild Master. "You have a major PR crisis on your hands. Your former Vanguard just accused you of fraud, theft, and attempted murder. Your new Vanguard almost threw a tantrum on live television."

Donald paused, letting the silence hang heavy over the ballroom.

"If you throw us out tonight," Donald said, his voice cold and precise, "you confirm everything she just said. You look guilty. You look scared. And if you look scared, your valuation drops. If your valuation drops... I start shorting Iron Vanguard stock tomorrow morning. I’ll bleed your investors dry before lunch."

Sterling stared at Donald. For the first time all night, the Guild Master looked genuinely thrown off balance.

He couldn’t sense Donald’s aura. He couldn’t verify the financial threat. But the billionaires in the front row were already whispering nervously to their stockbrokers. Donald had completely bypassed the magical threat and hit Sterling right in his wallet.

Behind Sterling, Damian stepped forward from the shadows.

The bald secretary didn’t say a word. He just locked his slanted eyes onto Donald.

Instantly, a freezing, suffocating wave of A-Rank pressure pushed against Donald’s chest. It was an invisible, localized attack—Damian was using his aura to try and crush Donald’s lungs, forcing him to choke and embarrass himself in front of the crowd.

Donald didn’t even blink.

He didn’t activate the synergy link with Evelyn. He didn’t need to. He just mentally triggered his [Aura of the Vanguard], keeping the F-Rank shield completely invisible and tight against his skin. It wasn’t enough to stop a sword, but it was enough to absorb the passive atmospheric pressure of the secretary’s glare.

Donald stood perfectly straight, breathing easily, and gave Damian a polite, mocking nod.

Damian’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. He recognized the holy mana signature. The secretary leaned in close to Sterling’s ear and whispered a single sentence.

Sterling’s expression hardened into granite. He looked back at Evelyn and Donald. He realized he was trapped. He couldn’t kill them. He couldn’t throw them out without causing a financial panic.

He had to beat them at their own game.

"You want to talk about assets and value?" Sterling said, his voice booming back over the microphone. He forced a heavy, booming laugh. "Fine. Let’s talk value. Evelyn claims she is healed. She claims the Guild abandoned her."

Sterling turned to the crowd, throwing his arms wide.

"I say we prove it!" Sterling roared, playing the crowd perfectly. "The annual Genesis City Guild Tournament begins next week. The ultimate testing ground for Awakeners. If Evelyn is truly healed... if she truly believes she was wronged... she can enter the arena."

The crowd started murmuring excitedly. A public grudge match. It was the ultimate entertainment.

Sterling turned back to Evelyn, a vicious, predatory light in his eyes.

"You and Kaelen," Sterling challenged, his voice dropping low. "A sanctioned, public duel in the tournament. If you win, the Iron Vanguard will issue a full public apology. We will restore your rank, and pay you double the reparations you claim we owe you."

Sterling stepped closer, looming over her.

"But if you lose," Sterling whispered, "you sign a full retraction. You surrender your Awakener license. And you leave Genesis City forever."

It was a brilliant trap. He was putting her in a locked cage with an A-Rank Berserker. If Kaelen accidentally "killed" her in the arena during a sanctioned match, it was completely legal.

Evelyn didn’t hesitate.

She looked at Kaelen’s heavy armor, then at Sterling’s smug face.

"I don’t want an apology, Sterling," Evelyn said, her voice ringing out clear and loud across the silent ballroom. "And I don’t want my old rank back."

She stepped forward, getting right in the Guild Master’s face.

"When I beat your new lapdog in the arena," Evelyn promised, her blue eyes burning with absolute certainty, "I want the Iron Vanguard Guild. All of it. I want your seat."

The ballroom exploded into chaos. Reporters screamed. Investors stood up and shouted. Kaelen roared in anger, drawing his broadsword an inch out of its scabbard before Damian grabbed his arm, holding the Berserker back.

Sterling stared at Evelyn. The fake smile was completely gone.

"You’re dead, Vance," Sterling promised softly.

"We’ll see you next week, Guild Master," Donald said cheerfully.

He offered Evelyn his arm. She took it.

Together, they turned their backs on the most powerful man in the city and walked slowly, calmly, right off the stage. They walked down the center aisle, the crowd parting for them, leaving the Iron Vanguard Guild in a state of absolute, burning humiliation.