Chapter 127: The Assassin Who Hated Losing

Chapter 127: Chapter 127: The Assassin Who Hated Losing

She looked up at Felix, then back down at the pieces.

"I had an advantage at move seventeen," she said, her voice strained.

"You did," Felix agreed. "Your pawn structure was solid, and you had good board control."

"Then you trapped my knight on move twenty-one."

"You gave me the opening, Vesper. You pushed forward without checking what was covering the square."

Her expression darkened, and she abruptly crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the wall. "Again."

Felix checked his watch. "Our allotted session time is almost up."

"No," she said, turning her head away to glare at the steel door. "Play again. Right now."

"Not today."

"Why?"

"Because I already won," Felix teased gently.

The moment the words left his mouth, he saw her face tighten. Her jaw trembled slightly, and a faint, glassy sheen appeared in her eyes before she quickly blinked it away.

Felix stopped. He realized she was genuinely crushed. She had spent hours alone in this quiet, locked room, replaying their first match over and over, trying her hardest to get better, only to lose again in thirty moves.

She stood up abruptly from the bed. "The session is over."

"Vesper—"

"I don’t want to talk," she cut in, staring at the floor. "I don’t want to play another game. And I don’t want your advice."

Felix stayed in his chair. "Alright."

She glanced at him sideways, suspicious. "Why are you agreeing so easily?"

"Because you clearly need a minute," Felix said softly. "You’re being a little petty."

Vesper’s head whipped around. "What did you just call me?"

"Petty," Felix repeated with a calm smile. "You practiced for hours, you thought you were going to wipe the floor with me, and now you’re sulking because things didn’t go according to plan."

"I am not sulking!" she snapped, her pale cheeks flushing with irritated color.

"Right, of course you aren’t," Felix said, nodding solemnly.

She glared at him with enough heat to melt steel, but seeing that he wasn’t mocking her, she slowly sat back down on the cot.

Felix reached out and quietly gathered the scattered pieces, resetting them onto the board.

"Do you want to know why you lost?" Felix asked gently.

Vesper kept her arms crossed, looking at the corner of the room. After a long silence, her dark eyes drifted back to the board.

"Your opening was significantly better than last week," Felix explained, moving the white pawns back into place. "Your defense was organized, and you stopped blindly chasing every piece I left open. That was a big improvement."

A tiny fraction of the tension left her shoulders.

"The problem is that you’re still too focused on finishing the game quickly," Felix continued, setting a black knight opposite a white bishop.

"Right here, at move fourteen. You saw my pawn sitting there with no protection, and you took it immediately."

"It was a free piece," she said defensively.

"It looked like one," Felix corrected. "You assumed taking it gave you an advantage, but you never stopped to ask why I left it there in the first place. You reacted to what I gave you instead of holding your own formation."

Vesper leaned in closer, her arms dropping to the table. The anger on her face was gone, replaced by pure, quiet focus.

"What should I have done instead?" she asked softly.

"Nothing," Felix said. "You should have waited."

She frowned. "Waiting is inefficient."

"In combat, maybe. But in strategy, waiting isn’t doing nothing, it’s choosing the right moment to act. Sometimes the strongest move is simply holding your ground."

Felix adjusted two pawns. "Try it again from this position. What would you play?"

Vesper studied the grid for several seconds. She reached out, picked up her knight, and moved it to a central square behind her pawns.

"Here?"

Felix looked at the piece, then up at her with a nod. "Much better. You aren’t chasing my piece anymore. You’re controlling the center."

A tiny spark of light flared in her eyes. "Oh. I see it now."

Felix watched her quietly. This woman is a feared underworld assassin who had spent years treating every human interaction as a kill-or-be-killed.

Now, she was leaning over a cheap plastic board, genuinely listening to a healer explain board control.

"When you have an advantage, don’t rush it," Felix added, sliding his pieces back. "A good opponent will bait you into hurrying. And when you’re on the defensive, don’t panic. Panic makes your actions easy to read."

Vesper’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You do that on purpose, don’t you? When you ask me questions during the game, you’re trying to distract me."

"I’m seeing if you can keep your focus while under pressure," Felix chuckled. "And when I compliment you, you start wondering what my angle is."

"Because you’re manipulating me the entire time," she accused, though there was no real venom left in her voice.

"I’m teaching you how to keep your composure," Felix corrected, rising from the chair. "There’s a difference."

Vesper sat in silence for a moment, looking at the neatly arranged board.

"Can we play again next time?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m going to beat you."

Felix picked up his folder from the desk, smiling down at her. "I’ll be disappointed if you don’t at least make me sweat."

A very faint, subtle curve touched the corner of her lips before she quickly flattened it. Felix turned toward the heavy door.

As the lock began to disengage, her voice called out behind him: "Felix."

He paused.

Vesper looked down at the table, her hands resting quietly in her lap. "Thank you. For the game."

"Anytime, Vesper," Felix said softly.

The blast door slid open, and Felix stepped out into the cold corridor as the heavy steel sealed shut behind him.

Inside the quiet room, Vesper stayed seated on her cot. She reached out, picking up the white knight, and placed it down on the center square, running through the sequence Felix had just demonstrated.

A quiet, determined smile spread across her face.

"Next time," she whispered to the empty cell.

"I’ll win."

Out in the hallway, Felix walked toward the main exit with a satisfied grin.

Vesper Cruz was stubborn, proud, and fiercely competitive. But having something to focus on, something that didn’t involve drawing blood or looking over her shoulder was exactly what she needed.

Felix chuckled to himself as the elevator doors opened. "She really hates losing."

A passing guard looked at him curiously. Felix just shook his head and stepped inside.

He could definitely work with that.

---