Chapter 133 The Hall.

Chapter 133: 133 The Hall.

I could hardly keep my eyes on the road with Glacia sitting beside me.

With her heavy white coat open from the exertion of the fight, it was impossible not to see how her combat suit clung to her curves in all the right ways.

She was the very picture of classical beauty, and I had to physically clear my throat and shake my head before I drifted into the oncoming lane.

"I see, sir," Glacia said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "Much like your armor can recede with your magnetic powers?"

"Right. Exactly. It allows me to blend in with the crowd instantly," I said. "Having a change of clothes hidden in an alley isn’t really going to cut it. You can’t count on some homeless guy not stealing your duffel bag."

"Yes. Of course," Glacia mused. "Perhaps I might costume myself with my powers as well?"

"How would you do that?" I asked.

"An armor of ice would look quite fetching, sir," she said matter-of-factly.

I suddenly had a vivid mental image of Glacia standing in a suit of translucent, blocky ice, utterly naked beneath it.

"Sir? Are you alright? You look a bit red."

"Uh, fine. Fine," I said quickly, adjusting the AC. "Ah, but that one might not work. They’d probably still be able to see your civilian clothes underneath. But it’s a good idea. Maybe try experimenting a bit. We’ll talk to Rhea and see if she can invent some kind of smart-fabric for you."

"You really think so, sir?" she asked, leaning in close, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Hey! Part of being a top-tier villain is always finding new uses for your powers," I said. "And you’ve got real potential."

Glacia preened in delight. "Thank you, sir. I am glad you approve."

"Of course. You are my second-in-command," I reminded her.

Which was a somewhat empty title at the moment, seeing as my entire ’evil’ organization consisted of me, Glacia, the psychotic psychic Psyren, and my personal mad scientist, Rhea. But after my performance with Delirium and the Octoporian, I’d firmly locked myself into the role of an evil overlord. I couldn’t operate in the shadows anymore, which was exactly why a flashy prison break PR stunt had been necessary.

Speaking of PR... I checked the dash clock and grunted. Shit. I was running late.

"Glacia?" I said. "Do you think you’d be able to fly back to the chalet on your own?"

"You mean the Fortress of Doom?"

"Sorry, the what?"

"Psyren, Rhea, and I have been discussing new names for our lair, sir. Fortress of Doom is currently in the lead, although I do not think it properly conveys the depth of your villainous majesty. But do not worry, sir. It is merely a working title. We will not finalize the branding without your clearance. We are, after all, your minions."

"Er, right. Yeah. Do you think you’d be okay if I dropped you off outside the city? I still have a... meeting to get to."

"Ah," she said, her expression instantly darkening, the temperature in the car dropping a few degrees. "You are referring to your summons from the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs."

"Yeah. That," I said, hardly surprised by her cold tone.

The BSA was the federal oversight committee for all superhuman activity, and they were the ones who managed the A-list heroes.

And after I had put Golden Boy in the ICU and deployed a giant mechanical kraken on my front lawn, Khonsu had made it very clear that the Bureau wanted a word.

"Sir, I would like to point out that it would be foolish in the extreme to enter their headquarters alone," Glacia noted, her voice tight. "You would be surrounded by federal heroes and Bureau agents!"

"This is true," I said reasonably. "But the alternative is ignoring a federal summons and having a BSA strike team show up at the chalet to drag me in."

"They would never lay a hand upon you, sir," Glacia said fiercely. "We would not let them."

Well, maybe. Honestly, the chalet could probably put up a hell of a fight now.

With the Octoporian parked on the roof and the girls backing me up, we could do some real damage. But the objective wasn’t to declare an actual war on the United States government.

I was a businessman, and getting my face plastered on a federal Most Wanted list wasn’t going to help my profit margins.

"It’s just a conversation," I said. "They’ve got nothing concrete to arrest me on. Golden Boy attacked me first, and I have the right to self-defense."

"If you say so, sir," Glacia said stubbornly. "But I must insist I go with you. Your second-in-command must attend such a high-stakes meeting, if only to ensure that you are not harmed during the negotiations."

"Well..."

"And showing your power would be vital to ensure the Bureau treats you seriously as an organization leader, sir," she added.

Hmm. She actually had a point there. Showing up alone might make me look like a compliant civilian, but showing up with Captain Zero’s daughter acting as my personal bodyguard?

That was a pretty clear ’don’t fuck with me’ power move. And Glacia was incredibly dangerous in her own right. Any BSA agent who tried to slap cuffs on me would be looking at severe frostbite.

I sighed. "You’re not going to let up on this, are you?"

Glacia shifted awkwardly in her seat. "I am merely concerned, sir," she said sincerely. "I do not think you should allow yourself to be put in a weak position. A show of force may be necessary."

"Well..."

She suddenly reached across the console and touched my arm. I found her glittering blue eyes gazing up at me with genuine loyalty. "You are not alone anymore, sir," she said softly.

"I... suppose not," I admitted.

I knew she was partially trying to manipulate me into letting her tag along, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. I wasn’t flying solo anymore.

That fact had brought me a terrifying amount of trouble lately, but there were undeniable upsides. Like having a fiercely protective, gorgeous villainess willing to walk into federal headquarters just to watch my back.

Well, I supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have Glacia come along. So long as I got some assurances the BSA wasn’t planning an ambush the second I stepped through the metal detectors.

"Alright," I said, flicking my turn signal and switching lanes toward the highway. "You can come with me. But remember," I told her firmly, giving her a stern look. "We’re not there to start shit. At least, not unless they start it first."

"I will remember, sir. Do not worry. I will be on my absolute best behavior," she said, quickly schooling her expression back into aristocratic indifference.

Well, that was one less thing to worry about, I supposed.

Now, all I needed to do was walk into the very heart of the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs, explain why I nearly killed their golden boy, convince them I wasn’t building a terrorist cell in the mountains, and avoid getting thrown into a maximum-security black site.

...Well, stranger things have happened.