Chapter 660

In any organization, someone has to be the face while someone else works behind it.

The face cannot afford to get dirty. If blood is spilled, the person behind the curtain has to clean it up. If they fail to contain it and that blood reaches the public face, the entire organization can be dragged into ruin.

The public figure might invite someone out for a cigarette.

The person in the shadows might have to make sure someone else never gets the chance to smoke again.

For years, the Ancient One had been both.

She established the Sanctums and stood watch over Earth. She taught at Kamar-Taj without reservation, never hoarding her knowledge. She conducted herself with dignity and integrity, becoming the respectable face of Kamar-Taj that the world could admire.

But behind that immaculate public image, she had used the forbidden darkness of the Void to strengthen herself.

That power was the foundation of her reputation as one of the strongest spellcasters in the world.

She hunted demons. She deterred enemies. And when some monstrous threat was too much for her students to handle, she often eliminated it before they even knew it existed.

Or, at the very least, she’d beat the thing half to death and leave it barely alive before letting her disciples swoop in and claim the kill.

Kamar-Taj was effectively a max-level character running around with a party full of level-ten newbies.

The Ancient One simply made sure nobody noticed.

She had spent all those years carrying both halves of Kamar-Taj on her shoulders.

Evenson could only imagine how exhausting that had been.

Now the Ancient One had chosen someone to truly inherit her legacy.

But anyone who inherited her position would also have to inherit her responsibilities.

That meant becoming Kamar-Taj’s public representative while simultaneously handling all the problems nobody else was allowed to see.

Perhaps she was reluctant.

Perhaps she simply didn’t trust anyone enough.

Either way, the Ancient One apparently didn’t want to place the entire burden on one person’s shoulders.

So she’d decided to split the inheritance in two.

One person would become the face.

Another would become the hand in the shadows.

The question was why Stephen Strange, a complete outsider, had been chosen to play the glamorous public role while Clea was being pushed into the shadows to handle the dirty work.

Even Evenson, who found the arrangement deeply unfair, couldn’t think of a better alternative.

All anyone had to do was look at Clea.

The moment she’d learned what her future role was supposed to be, she’d gone from merely indulging in dramatic fantasies to fully embracing them.

The three blankets nailed to her bed were no longer enough to contain her.

With a sudden burst of strength, Clea tore herself free.

She sat cross-legged on the mattress, her expression solemn and shadowy.

Then she produced several boxes of red contact lenses from somewhere in her belongings.

Evenson watched in disbelief as she started sticking them onto her eyes.

At the same time, she’d ripped the white bedsheet into strips and was wrapping them around her right arm.

Within minutes, half her body was covered.

Under her breath, she muttered things about how Stephen Strange would bask in the sunlight as the Sorcerer Supreme while she became the roots buried deep beneath the darkness.

Then she turned to Evenson.

"Get me a cane."

"What?"

"A cane. Quickly. I want to practice."

This was exactly why the Ancient One couldn’t simply force Clea into the public role.

The woman was hopelessly dramatic.

Even if the Ancient One personally propped her up and pushed her onto the stage, Clea would never be able to carry Kamar-Taj’s public image.

"That’s enough."

Evenson walked over and peeled the strips of sheet off her.

"You look creepy."

But as he looked at Clea in her current state, an idea suddenly struck him.

Fine.

If she was going to be the person working behind the scenes, so be it.

Clea herself clearly didn’t object.

The important question was what that role would actually look like.

"The Ancient One told me what you wanted while we were outside."

Evenson sat down beside her.

"I didn’t realize how you felt. That was my mistake."

He looked genuinely apologetic.

"I’m sorry."

He extended a hand toward her.

"So I’m going to make it up to you."

"I heard you’ve already read everything you needed to from that book."

His smile returned.

"Come with me. I’ll show you what I really do."

Clea looked at his hand.

Then she took it.

"Okay."

She smiled softly.

From this moment forward, she wouldn’t be a canary trapped in Evenson’s cage anymore.

She could become like the two demon women and actually help him.

Evenson felt relieved.

He’d finally realized the mistake he’d made and managed to patch the small crack that had appeared between them before it could become something worse.

Unfortunately, that pleasant feeling didn’t last long.

In hindsight, he’d made the decision far too quickly.

He really should have thought this through.

At the very least, he should have prepared himself.

Because now...

At the top floor of the Gospel Corporation headquarters, Clea sat across from the Eredar Twins.

All three women wore pleasant smiles.

Their manners were impeccable.

Their postures were elegant.

And their eyes had already crossed swords somewhere in the air between them at least a dozen times.

Evenson sat off to the side with his head bowed as low as possible.

Damn it.

The atmosphere was suffocating.

He should have seen this coming.

If he’d told Clea he was going to show her what he really did, bringing her to the company had been the obvious choice.

He couldn’t exactly take her sightseeing around S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

That would have been a lie.

But bringing her here meant introducing her to the Eredar Twins.

Which was now making Evenson seriously reconsider the S.H.I.E.L.D. option.

Even letting Clea watch him trade insults with Nick Fury would have been better than this.

"Heh."

Salorass gave Clea a disdainful smile.

"So the little stray cat has decided to stop waiting around for her master to feed her and start catching mice herself."

Her smile sharpened.

"How unexpected."

"Be careful," Ourelis added sweetly.

"You might catch no mice at all and simply end up covered in filth."

Her tone was anything but sweet.

"And if your master decides you’re more trouble than you’re worth, he could always throw you away."

Clea ignored the barbs.

There was something else bothering her far more.

"Evenson."

She turned toward him.

"Stop hiding over there and explain something to me."

Her eyes narrowed.

"What the hell is the deal with those six hundred billion dollars?"

Evenson felt the blood drain from his face.

Impressive.

She’d finally noticed.

Six hundred billion dollars.

He’d spent that fortune on these two women.

Normally, Evenson was so tight with money that getting him to spend a few dollars required an act of God.

Yet apparently he’d been perfectly happy to throw six hundred billion dollars at the Eredar Twins.

He’d practically financed two mistresses on a scale that could make the entire Forbes 500 feel inadequate.

"Well..."

Evenson slowly raised his head.

"I mean... we didn’t know each other yet when I came into that money."

Clea’s eyes narrowed further.

"If we’d known each other then, would you have given me those six hundred billion dollars?"

Two sharp glints appeared in her eyes.

The Eredar Twins also seemed suddenly interested.

Their gazes drifted toward Evenson.

He could feel the trap closing.

How was he supposed to answer that?

There was no correct answer.

It was a suicide question.

Then inspiration struck.

"Ah!"

Evenson straightened.

If a question couldn’t be answered, then don’t answer it.

"Let’s talk about that later."

He turned toward the twins.

"I actually came here to ask you two something."

He took a breath.

"How much do you know about the Ethereals?"

Ourelis snorted.

"I know a little."

She took a sip of her drink.

"But don’t you think that was an incredibly obvious change of subject?"

The two topics had absolutely nothing to do with each other.

Everyone said pressure made people think more clearly.

Apparently Evenson became an idiot instead.

"I’m not changing the subject."

Evenson stood and slowly walked toward them.

"I’m asking a serious question."

"Why?"

Salorass set down her glass.

She looked at him with genuine curiosity.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in that race?"

"Because I learned something from the Ancient One."

Evenson stopped.

"There is an Ethereal on Earth."

He looked directly at the twins.

"And that Ethereal has a title."

His expression became serious.

"Transcendent One."

The Eredar Twins shot to their feet.

Their relaxed expressions vanished instantly.

"Transcendent One?!"

"There’s a Transcendent One on Earth?!"

...