Chapter 252 Jealous.

Chapter 252: 252 Jealous.

Having S-list heroes visit your base of operations is always a massive, anxiety-inducing nightmare.

Usually, they don’t bother using the doorbell. Standard operating procedure dictates they blast a hole straight through your load-bearing walls.

They confront you while you sit on an elevated, menacing throne. You trade a couple of minutes of snappy dialogue, they dispatch your legions of disposable henchmen, and then you fistfight over an active lava pit while a massive digital countdown beeps ominously overhead.

It is incredibly theatrical, but the contractor bills are astronomical.

Fortunately, that wasn’t happening today. Which was a massive relief for my budget, because I didn’t want to pay to rebuild the wall or cater an elaborate, menacing dinner. But honestly? I was a little disappointed.

I always wanted to do the menacing throne speech. You swish your heavy cape as you rise, confidently inform the hero they are far too late to stop the doomsday device, and monologue about the futility of their struggle.

Ah, the classics.

But today was strictly business. I really didn’t want to piss off either of my guests.

I had beaten Mystic in a straight fight before, and the Bureau was currently a shadow of its former glory, but getting a veteran powerhouse permanently on my case was bad for my long-term health.

And I still had a fifty-million-dollar contract to fulfill with Vanessa. The absolute last thing I needed was her psychotic father deciding I was a hostile element.

So, when Rhea chimed over the internal comms to announce that the pair had arrived at the front gate, I immediately headed for the main entrance.

"Are you absolutely sure I can’t blast them? Just a little bit?" Rhea pleaded through my earpiece. "I could totally make it look like a glitch. A warning shot! Just to make sure they know who they’re messing with."

"Stand down, Rhea. No lasers," I said, walking briskly down the main hall.

"How about a sonic disruptor? Just to rattle their teeth?"

"They aren’t messing with anyone. Hands off the defense grid."

Glacia was already waiting for me by the heavy steel double doors. Her posture was flawless, but her expression was absolute, unforgiving frost.

She fundamentally disapproved of inviting the enemy into the stronghold, and she had made her objections perfectly clear during the morning briefing. But she was a professional, and she understood the necessity of the alliance.

I cleared my throat, adjusting the collar of my suit, and pulled the heavy doors open just as Vanessa and Mystic stepped onto the concrete of the front drive.

"Ladies!" I announced, keeping my tone perfectly neutral. "Welcome to the chalet. Smooth trip?"

"It was adequate," Mystic replied, her face a mask of calm.

"Yeah," Vanessa muttered. Her visible eye was darting frantically across the roofline, scanning for hidden snipers.

Her shoulders were hunched tight, her heavy silver bangles clinking as her fingers twitched, ready to throw up a defensive hex at the slightest sudden movement.

It was exactly the level of paranoia I expected from a rookie walking into the lion’s den.

"Well, come on inside," I said, stepping back and making an inviting gesture toward the foyer.

Mystic led the way, striding past me into the compound with barely a sideways glance. She carried herself like a woman who could dismantle the entire building with her bare hands if she needed to.

Vanessa followed much slower, her boots hesitating on the threshold. She looked like she was waiting for a trapdoor to open beneath her feet.

"Interesting decor," Mystic noted, her keen eyes scanning the foyer. "A remarkable amount of heavy steel spikes."

"Yeah. We’re actually quite proud of the spikes. It establishes a strong, cohesive brand identity," I said, locking the doors behind them.

"I can tell. Perfect for mounting the severed heads of your enemies?" Mystic asked dryly.

"We are currently accepting applications for volunteers," Glacia stated, offering the Nordic hero a completely bloodless, icy smile.

Mystic stopped. She turned her head, locking eyes with the frosty villainess. Glacia didn’t blink, giving the veteran hero a stare that could freeze nitrogen.

The temperature in the foyer immediately plummeted by twenty degrees.

I physically shivered as a heavy, violent static charge began to build up in the air, making the hairs on my arms prickle against my shirt.

"Anywho," I loudly interrupted, forcibly stepping right between the two women before the posturing escalated into a blizzard. "Let’s keep the tour moving and go meet Lilith, shall we?"

Though clearly reluctant to drop the staring contest, they kept walking.

After that little display of territorial aggression, I sure as hell wasn’t going to give them the grand tour of the facility.

I ushered both heroines directly toward the guest wing and stopped in front of the heavy oak doors of Lilith’s suite. I knocked firmly.

"Milesy! Come in, come in! The door’s unlocked!"

Hm. Knowing the succubus, that level of bubbly enthusiasm was highly suspicious. Warily, I pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside.

The suite had changed drastically since my last visit. It was less of a chaotic fashion studio now, and more like the manic, occult laboratory of a deeply caffeinated sorcerer.

Where designer sketching easels and velvet fabric racks had stood yesterday, an entire archaic library had seemingly materialized.

The room was crammed with towering, precarious stacks of ancient, leather-bound tomes. Heavy bronze braziers were set up in the corners, burning with a strange, smokeless red flame.

Elaborate, jagged summoning symbols had been aggressively drawn across the expensive hardwood floor in what looked like thick chalk—which was going to be an absolute nightmare for the cleaning bots to scrub out.

The air in the room was incredibly thick, carrying a heavy, greasy weight of raw magic and sharp brimstone that made my skin crawl just standing in the doorway.

Lilith was standing near a massive, newly imported stone table in the center of the room.

She was dressed in a fluffy, oversized red sleeping robe with thick black fur trim that rode dangerously low on her shoulders, pushing her crimson chest up prominently while the long hem dragged lazily across the chalk circles.

She spun around as we entered, holding a massive, ancient grimoire bound in what I deeply hoped was standard cow leather.

"Milesy!" Lilith squealed, practically vibrating with delight. She tossed the heavy grimoire onto the stone table with a loud thud and bounded over. "So good to see you! Oh, and these must be your little hero friends! Welcome, welcome, welcome! Come all the way in! Make yourselves totally comfortable!"

"I would greatly prefer not to," Vanessa stated tersely, physically recoiling from the demon’s overwhelming energy. "I have absolutely no interest in cooperating with the literal forces of hell any more than is strictly necessary for the mission."

Lilith gasped, her yellow eyes going wide before she let out a loud, trilling laugh. "Oh, sweetie! You are just a total treat! A grumpy little firecracker! This is going to be so incredibly fun!"

She bounced closer to Vanessa, tilting her head and suddenly freezing. Her bright yellow eyes dropped dead-center onto the heroine’s chest.

Lilith blinked, her bouncy demeanor faltering for a split second as a highly visible, deeply offended pout crossed her crimson face.

"Wait a second," Lilith muttered, leaning in closer and entirely ignoring personal boundaries. She crossed her arms, pushing her own ample cleavage up defensively. "Are those entirely natural? Because that is totally unfair.

"I was biologically engineered by the dark pits of the underworld to be a flawless paragon of seduction, and you’re just walking around with those? That shouldn’t even be humanly possible without heavy surgical enchantments! I am so incredibly jealous right now."

Vanessa’s jaw practically unhinged. She stared at the bubbly succubus with a completely flabbergasted, horrified expression, utterly paralyzed by the sudden, highly inappropriate anatomical critique.

I couldn’t exactly blame her. Lilith had a unique talent for completely derailing a room’s train of thought.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, feeling a massive headache forming.

"Alright, focus up, people," I said, clapping my hands once to break the tension. "Do you two think you can figure out whatever ritual required to drag Legion out of his hole, or are you just going to stand here and kill each other?"