Chapter 206 Iron.

Chapter 206: 206 Iron.

Getting out of bed without waking Psyren and Rhea required the kind of agonizing precision usually reserved for disarming landmines.

It was especially difficult considering Rhea had her fluffy tail wrapped securely around my calf, and Psyren was dead to the world, clinging to my arm.

But I had a feeling I needed to get moving.

Last night had been an incredible capper to an absolutely psychotic week, but the geopolitical fallout from dismantling the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs wasn’t going to wait until noon.

I threw on a pair of slacks and a crisp dress shirt after my shower, grabbing a mug of black coffee and posting up at the second-story window of the chalet.

I watched the winding mountain drive, knowing full well we were going to get an unexpected guest this morning. I wasn’t entirely sure who it would be, but someone was coming.

Ah. Right on time.

A sleek, matte-black luxury car cruised smoothly up the road and came to a halt at the wrought-iron gates. I reached up, tapping the transceiver in my ear.

"Glacia?"

"Good morning, sir! I was just about to alert you regarding—"

"I see it. Let her up."

"Right away, sir."

I downed the rest of my coffee as the heavy gates swung open. The dark car glided up the drive, coming to a halt near the porch with the soft crunch of expensive tires on gravel.

I made my way downstairs and stepped out into the crisp morning air, taking my time admiring the vehicle. It was a beautiful machine. The sleek black chassis shone in the sunlight, the chrome rims gleaming with the kind of polish that proved someone was paid a very good salary just to buff them.

It was all quite impressive. As was the woman who stepped out of the driver’s side.

Lacey smiled broadly, her designer sunglasses catching the glare of the morning sun as she swept up the steps.

"Well, well! If it isn’t Mr. Big Shot Villain himself. How are you holding up, Miles?"

"I’m alright," I said, leaning against the porch railing. "Doing considerably better than yesterday."

"I bet you are!" Lacey chirped, breezing right past my personal space and looping her arm through mine. "Come on. Walk with me, talk with me! We’ve got a massive agenda to go over, you and I."

That we did. I set off with Lacey, strolling around the perimeter of the chalet grounds.

"So—" I began.

"You want to know the temperature down on the ground, don’t you?" Lacey interrupted smoothly.

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"It’s chaos, Miles. Absolute, unmitigated chaos!" she laughed. "But don’t worry, that’s exactly what we want. It’s not every day a freelance mercenary steps out of the shadows, systematically trounces the biggest hero society in the hemisphere, and then just walks away clean.

"That’s prime-time news, Miles! Your little stunt is dominating the airwaves. Every major network, every newspaper, every cape blog. Everyone is talking about the Iron Polaris. What a performance! A hell of a brand introduction."

"Any legal blowback?" I asked.

"None that sticks," she said dismissively. "Khonsu and Mystic have been very forthcoming with the federal authorities about what really happened in that bunker. But frankly, the context doesn’t matter to the public.

"Even if the BSA were being mind-controlled, the optics are that you smashed them. Nothing’s going to change that, Miles. You couldn’t have bought a better debut for your evil syndicate if you’d had a billion-dollar marketing budget. The world knows exactly who you are now, and the sponsorship offers are rolling in!"

"Is that why you’re up here so early?" I asked shrewdly.

Lacey grinned, tilting her head coyly, her sharp bob bouncing. "One of a few reasons, Miles. You would not believe the sheer volume of requests hitting my inbox.

"My phone was ringing off the hook all night with A-list heroes desperate for me to arrange a sanctioned defeat of your new ’evil schemes.’ If a hero successfully fights your organization now, their Q-rating will skyrocket! Everyone wants a piece of the Polaris pie. But that’s not all."

"What’s not all?" I asked, a familiar knot forming in my stomach.

Lacey chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, Miles. You really don’t see the big picture, do you? It’s not just the heroes. The villains are going to want a piece of you, too."

"Villains want to fight me?"

She laughed outright as we strolled past a small forest of Glacia’s abandoned, half-melted ice sculptures.

"Of course not! Well, some might. But mostly, they want to join you!"

I stopped walking.

"...Join me?" I repeated blankly.

"Miles! Try to understand the market dynamics here. You’re not just an impressive piece of armored man-meat anymore. You’re running a premier evil organization. Do you have any idea how lucrative that is? Villains are going to be flocking to your banner. You’re a launchpad for their careers! You could end up leading a whole army of supervillains."

Dear God. She was right.

I hadn’t even considered the logistical nightmare. Forget just managing Glacia, Rhea, and Psyren. I’d be dealing with every D-list bad guy and aspiring megalomaniac looking to become the next Doctor Dementor. Building an evil brand from scratch was hard, but having an established, S-class-defeating league to springboard off of? It would be a godsend for the criminal underworld.

And those were just the friendly ones.

The flipside was that I’d be seen as the ultimate apex rival. Just as many villains would see taking me down as the fastest elevator to the top floor of the underworld. Real heavyweights with real heft behind them.

"Oh, fuck," I groaned, rubbing my temples.

Lacey smiled sympathetically, patting my shoulder. "Not to worry, Miles. Firefly Industries is absolutely delighted to work with you to help manage your new menacing portfolio. And first among those executive perks is this!"

We had rounded the chalet by now and were back at the front driveway. Lacey gestured grandly at the luxury vehicle she’d arrived in.

I looked at it blankly. "What?"

"Your new company car! A premium sponsorship, Miles. Firefly Industries’ latest electric luxury model, The Cruiser. Fully armored, top-of-the-line specs. They would be thrilled if you would choose them as your exclusive automotive showcase during your villainous endeavors."

"They want me to drive one of their cars?" I said, baffled. "But... I’m a supervillain."

Lacey patted my chest. "Miles, evil always has plenty of style. And from personal corporate experience, I assure you, evil is very sexy. And nothing sells like sex."

Well, she had me there.

I looked closer at the shining new car. Sleek, matte black, brand new. It was incredibly stylish, with an aggressive, predatory sharpness to the design that felt instinctively menacing.

And... oh. Oh, they didn’t.

They did. The chrome hood ornament was a stylized skull resting atop a jagged letter P.

"Nice," I breathed. I reached out, tracing my fingers over the cold, shining silver of the skull.

I heard a metallic jangle. I looked over to find Lacey holding up a heavy set of keys. The keychain was a sharp, blood-red ’P’.

"All yours," she purred.

Like I was in a trance, I held out my hand. She dropped the keys into my waiting palm. My fingers closed over the metal, feeling the sharp edges of the keychain digging into my skin.

"The first of many new executive perks, Miles," Lacey said, her grin razor-sharp. "Or should I say, Iron Polaris."

I exhaled a long breath, looking back at the sleek, unblemished machine. The first brand-new car I’d ever owned.

Maybe this whole ’evil boss’ thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.