Chapter 160 Number.

Chapter 160: 160 Number.

I stared at her. Two seconds into the meeting, and she was already throwing me massive curveballs.

"We are?" I said blankly.

"Of course! Try to keep up, Miles," Lacey said, her eyes gleaming with dollar signs. "Now, we know you no doubt have a fair bit of competition among the industry’s capes looking to make a big showing out of you and your new syndicate. Everyone wants to be the first to take down the big, scary new group of rogues on the block. But we at Firefly believe we can offer you the sort of premier presentation and heroic opposition that you simply can’t find anywhere else."

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. So this was what the meeting was about.

I knew Lacey was looking to offer me a contract—she never invited me over for social calls unless there was an agenda—but I hadn’t been expecting this.

Still, I certainly wasn’t going to let my crew act as a stepping stone for her latest idol group.

"Lacey, I already told you, I have zero interest in arching the Superstars. Psyren and I involving ourselves with them the other night was a strict one-off."

"Miles! I’m absolutely aghast that you’d think I’d be proposing something so low-tier," Lacey gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. "To be sure, the Superstars are some of our most profitable rising talents, and we certainly are looking to elevate their Q-ratings, but they can hardly stand on an equal threat-assessment level with a highly organized, heavily armed syndicate of high-class villains."

"Oh," I said. "Then," I added, my eyes sliding back over to Michael’s completely unflappable face, "what exactly are you suggesting?"

"So glad you asked," Lacey purred. She steepled her manicured fingers together, her smile starkly reminding me of a well-fed cat that had just spotted a crippled canary. "It just so happens that the BSA has come to us, heavily interested in a joint-venture partnership."

"Partnership?" I echoed.

Michael cleared his throat, the sound dry as dust, and finally reached into his battered briefcase, fetching out a stack of pristine, heavy-stock documents. "The BSA is interested in engaging your evil organization for a fixed-term operational period. Combat would exclusively concern the core class of our heroes, along with a select handful of sidekicks, in a prolonged, staged encounter amounting to approximately a fiscal week. With the potential for a contract extension, should broadcast ratings prove it beneficial."

I looked down at the sprawling legal papers he’d laid out on the mahogany desk.

What?

"I’m sorry," I said slowly, trying to process the sheer corporate audacity of it. "I was heavily under the impression the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs didn’t do the whole... hiring freelance villains thing. Don’t you already have plenty of your own psychotic archenemies running around?"

"We do," Michael said in that same toneless, robotic voice. It was the tap water of verbal flavor. "However, we are interested in expanding our current demographic reach, and we are looking to showcase some of our up-and-coming heroes in a highly controlled, localized setting."

I glanced sharply at Lacey. "And Firefly is just okay with this?"

"We’d naturally be negotiating to have a few of our flagship heroes work alongside the Bureau," Lacey beamed, waving her hands to paint the picture. "Just envision it, Miles! The premium crossover event of the decade! The Bureau of Superpowered Affairs and Firefly’s top protagonists coming together to foil the dastardly, apocalyptic plot of the Iron Polaris! His supple, lethal villainesses threatening the city, all under the command of the great evil finally revealing his true, terrifying might! A confrontation for the ages! The merchandising alone would fund your chalet for a century."

"We have several potential combat scenarios and acceptable collateral damage thresholds outlined in the packet," Michael added, tapping the papers.

I picked them up, flipping through the pages, but I wasn’t really reading the legalese. This whole thing stank worse than the Sewer Urchin after his weekly toxic sludge bath.

My eyes flicked back and forth between Lacey’s predatory grin and Michael’s unblinking, dead-fish stare. Slowly, I laid the papers back down.

"It’s an... interesting proposal, for sure," I said neutrally. "But I’m going to need a minute to consult with the rest of my team."

"Of course. Take your time. Please, use the lobby," Lacey said, gesturing generously toward the heavy oak doors.

"Great," I said, rising from the chair. "Be right back."

I stepped out of the office, letting the heavy doors snick shut behind me. Brick and Stone were still sitting at their desks like mountains in tailored suits.

I moved to a far corner of the lobby where it was highly doubtful anyone could eavesdrop, trying to get a handle on my racing thoughts.

Okay.

So, there was some incredibly lucrative money being thrown around in that office, but I wasn’t exactly sold on it. Especially after my previous interrogation with Khonsu, Mystic, and Mister Invincible. Something was fundamentally wrong here.

The Bureau founders had seemed entirely genuine about wanting me to reform and join their ranks.

Now, the smartest guy on their board was sitting in a corporate CEO’s office, drafting up a crossover event to cement my status as a high-tier super-terrorist.

The left hand was clearly doing something the right hand hadn’t a fucking clue about. Probably.

But what was I supposed to do about it?

I pulled out my phone, eyeing the cracked screen. Hmm... It was a massive gamble, but what the hell. I flipped to the contacts list and dialed the first number under ’R’.

It didn’t even ring twice before Rhea picked it up. "Hey hey, Miles! What can your resident genius do for her favorite evil overlord?"

"Rhea? How hard do you think it would be to get me in direct contact with Khonsu?"

I heard her gasp in dramatic, mock shock. "Miles! Are you seriously asking me to hack into the primary communication grid of the BSA? Bypassing countless federal firewalls, biometric security systems, military-grade anti-phishing software, and penetrating an S-class encrypted relay system just for a phone call?"

"I guess I am, yeah."

"Alright, done."

"Wait, what?" I said, blinking. "When?"

"When I was complaining about how hard it was. Come on, Miles. You don’t think I just sit down in this basement playing visual novels all day, do you?"

"No. I’m pretty sure you also design weapons of mass destruction on the side."

"You know me so well. Patching you through!"

I shook my head in genuine wonder. That girl was worth every single penny I paid her.

The phone rang twice, then clicked. A familiar, dangerously terse voice came through the receiver.

"Khonsu here. Who dares with the God of the Moon."

"Khonsu? It’s Polaris," I said.

There was a dead, heavy pause on the line. Then a brittle, icy response. "How the hell did you get this number?"