Chapter 274 Show.

Chapter 274: 274 Show.

I held that terrifying, glowing stare. Even just looking directly into the abyss of his eyes threatened to twist my insides into a cold sailor’s knot.

But then I smiled.

"Nothing," I said.

Jester blinked. He leaned back just a fraction of an inch, the physical threat momentarily stalling. "Excuse me?"

I shrugged, taking a slow, deliberate sip of my beer. "Absolutely nothing," I said.

I released my magnetic grip on the room, letting the aggressive, vibrating rattle of the antique weapons fade back into heavy silence. "What can I do? What dare I do? You’re The Jester. You sit on the Council of Nine for the New Order.

"If I threw a punch right now, I’d be completely fucked. I know how the industry rules work. Anyone who dares attack a standing member of the New Order outside the strict confines of an official, sanctioned evil plot gets eradicated by the rest of the board.

"So even if I did miraculously manage to kill you in this room, the rest of the Order would come down on my league like Judgment Day. I’d be crushed. Squashed. Erased. There would be absolutely nothing left. And not even having Captain Zero’s kid on my payroll would save my sorry ass."

Jester settled slowly back onto his steel-toed heels. The burning, aggressive outline of his eyes relaxed slightly into genuine amusement. "How very foresighted of you," he observed smoothly.

I shrugged again and drained the last drops of my beer. "I didn’t get this far in the business by being stupid," I said. "After all, I just need to wait."

"Wait?" Jester repeated.

"Sure," I said. With a sharp magnetic squeeze, I crushed the beer can completely flat in my bare palm. "Because I don’t think you’re actually done with me, are you? You’ll probably try something else.

"Rope me into another one of your schemes. Try to officially recruit me. Maybe even come down here and try to kill me yourself. And when you finally make that direct move, then we will absolutely know the score, won’t we?

"And according to the bylaws of the Order, if I can officially accuse you of directly plotting against my life, I am legally cleared to kill you. Isn’t that right?" I asked, glancing over at Glacia.

"Of course, sir," Glacia answered, her tone blisteringly icy. "Should a standing member of the Order directly assault another registered hero or villain, any lethal damage inflicted upon that member in self-defense shall not warrant a retaliatory response from the board."

Sleer snarled, taking a sudden, aggressive step toward me. His shadowy, wraith-like fingers narrowed into jagged knives. "Why, you cocky little—"

Jester raised a single, chained hand. The lieutenant instantly fell completely silent, freezing in place. Jester’s glowing eyes scrutinized me with deep, calculated interest.

"And the only thing stopping you from attempting to topple me tonight is the looming threat of the Order?" Jester asked.

"I mean," I said, casually tossing the crushed can onto my desk, "I’m sure it would be a massively tough job. But the alternative is dying, so yeah. I’d fight to win. I’d use every single cheap shot in the book, too.

"I’d go straight for the crotch. Gouge eyes. Bite. Whatever it took. Because that’s how street-level villains fight. And you know?" I gave him a lazy, entirely fake smile. "Maybe I’d surprise you and actually come out on top. Who knows?"

Cull let out another heavy, aggressive puff of air, his thick knuckles turning white around the haft of his axe. But another subtle flick of Jester’s fingers silenced the brute completely.

"A very interesting proposition," Jester mused, his voice echoing lightly. "And of course, now that I know that you know, I will have to be twice as careful... lest I accidentally start a total war with you and your expanding roster of villains. Of which, I am to understand, there are quite a few more these days."

"Seems so," I said flatly.

He chuckled, a dry, rattling sound like chains dragging over stone. "They say when you strike at a king, you must kill him. But when you go for his clown... make sure you put on a spectacular show."

"I’m not a king. And I am definitely not a clown," I said. "I’m just some guy trying to run a business."

"Is that so? And what exactly do I have to fear from ’just some guy’?"

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Really? We’re villains. We, of all people, know exactly what happens when someone is backed into a corner with absolutely nothing left to lose.

"And I know that if you really decide to come after me, it will be for keeps. So if I ever get the feeling you are seriously gunning for my life, I will have to go all out. Won’t I?"

His glowing, sickle-shaped grin flared brightly. He chuckled low and deep. "How very true. I am genuinely impressed, Polaris. Yes. Very impressed. It has been a very long time since I have been so thoroughly, politely threatened. I will remember your words. Yes. I think I shall."

He abruptly turned his back, his heavy robes sweeping the floor. "Cull!" he snapped. "We are leaving. Thank you for a most diverting evening, Polaris. I do sincerely hope we meet again under better circumstances."

"Don’t take this the wrong way," I said, keeping my voice perfectly deadpan, "but I hope I never see your creepy ass ever again."

Jester laughed loudly, the sound echoing out into the hall. "A wise hope! But who knows what the chaotic future shall bring, hm? Sleer?"

Eyeing me like a rabid, starved bulldog, Sleer turned and stomped out of the drawing room right on Cull’s massive heels.

I waited until the heavy oak doors clicked completely shut. I instantly let out a shaky, exhausted breath and walked over to the tall bay window.

I looked down onto the manicured lawn just in time to watch Jester and his lieutenants step onto their floating metallic disc.

"Are you sure this is a wise course of action, sir?" Glacia asked, moving up quietly behind me.

"What do you mean?"

Glacia scowled out the glass as Jester and his crew rose silently into the night air, heading toward the massive, cloaked floating fortress looming in the atmosphere above the chalet. "I mean, sir... letting him leave. Should we not have simply fought him here?"

I stretched out a hand. My magnetic powers lifted the flattened beer can off my desk, spinning the crushed piece of aluminum lazily in the air.

"I bluffed incredibly well right there, Glacia," I admitted, my voice dropping. "But I am completely, physically spent. My armor is ruined, and my battery is empty. I seriously doubt I could have actually taken him tonight."

"But sir—"

"And I don’t even know if he was actually looking to kill me tonight. Really," I said. I manipulated the magnetic field, slowly pulling the crushed can back out into a perfect cylinder. "I have absolutely no idea what his endgame is. Does he plan on actively trying to recruit me? Destroy me?

"Use my league as a blunt instrument against some of his other enemies on the board? I don’t know. So, our absolute best bet is to sit tight, wait, and see what he does.

"Now that he knows I’m actively watching him, he’ll have to be extra careful moving pieces against me. And if he’s not careful... then we go to war."

I floated the perfectly reshaped can back down into my palm.

"And if we do go to war," I said quietly, "then we need more power. We need to be strong enough to make sure Jester knows that if he does engage us, we will tear his league apart so badly that the rest of his organization will be easy pickings for his rivals.

"A man in Jester’s position has a massive list of enemies. We just need to make sure he knows it’s not worth adding us to the top of it."

"We will, sir," Glacia said firmly. She reached out, grasping my hand and giving it a fiercely reassuring squeeze. "All of us are standing right behind you. No matter what."

I gave her a grateful look. I absolutely did not want a turf war with the New Order. And I especially did not want to go to war against a heavyweight player like The Jester.

But if he ultimately wanted a fight, I was going to give him one hell of a show.