RE: Perverted Sugar Daddy System

"How do you know Lisa?" Kyle asked.

A disgusting feeling rose from within me at the memories his question brought up, but I forced it down and shrugged.

"Does it matter? You know what you should do."

It had been 14 years ago. Back then, Kyle's political career was just kicking off, and his family had just welcomed new members—twins, a boy and a girl.

Having to travel for work, he left his wife and children at home, promising to return with gifts.

It was a shame he never got to see them again.

Three days after his trip, his wife had called him, sobbing. She said she and the kids had been poisoned. She described how their little toddlers had foamed at the mouth and how she had become paralyzed—how no matter how much she screamed, no one came to her aid.

The police were taking forever to respond, and now all she had was him.

It was an unforgettable day for Kyle. Try as he might, all the way from Washington, he couldn't get help to his wife in New York.

It's debatable whether it was a good thing that he'd been able to speak to her until the very end—until she died in unbearable pain.

Lisa had survived the incident only because she'd been in school.

Such an experience hardens a man beyond normal parameters, and I had watched him go through his first kills when the nightmare ended.

"It matters—because what if you kill me anyway?"

"Well, I could take out my anger on your daughter. The mind can be quite sinful toward the helpless.

I can see the anger in your eyes, but you've seen what I can do. Do you really think you stand a chance against me?

I'm not someone you can hunt down with your underworld mercenaries."

For a man who dressed and spoke softly, and who was portrayed as quite benevolent in the news, discovering how hardened Kyle truly was shocked me—but I quickly adjusted and approached him in a way that suited his temperament.

Knowing his weakness, I eventually got the man to break, and I got most of the answers I'd been looking for.

The interrogation lasted a while, and after having my mind blown and my curiosity somewhat satisfied, I gently stood up.

"Thank you. Your knowledge has really helped me."

The sinister tone in my voice was gone. A heavy, solemn aura spread from me.

Whoever said knowledge was a curse had been very right.

"Will you keep your promise?" Kyle asked.

"If you thought I wouldn't, you wouldn't have been so forthcoming."

"Wake up your subordinates. The people above are getting anxious."

Turning away from Kyle, I moved toward the room's exit, stopping to look down at Betty's prone form.

It was surprising to think she'd been unconscious through all this action, after persevering and matching me all the way down here.

I debated whether to wake her or kill her. After a few seconds of pondering, I slung her over my back and turned to the governor.

Though he'd succeeded with the first guard, the man was struggling to wake the second.

In the end, he had to resort to painful slaps to succeed. Some time was taken to let the terrified men calm down, and after a quick rundown of the situation, we began ascending from the basement—me in front, with Kyle and his guards behind.

"What about the bunker?" I asked as we reached the top of the stairs and entered the corridor.

"It's locked and inaccessible to those without the proper authority. Is there a problem?"

"Is there a self-destruct sequence for it—or for this building?"

With everything that had happened, the bunker on Isol Street had been exposed. I felt it could be put to better use.

"Yes," Kyle answered. "But we can't make use of it. That requires a higher level of authority."

"Oh."

We continued forward, our steps unhurried. Then, I raised my two guns and, taking another step forward, began firing.

Four men dropped dead. I didn't slow down even for a second—I just kept walking.

"They're just scouts."

We continued our march forward, rounding the circular path until we arrived at the lobby. But instead of heading for the entrance, I moved past it.

Based on what I'd learned since entering this building, I knew that the way I came in could not be the way I left.

It was a conclusion I'd reached through both checking facts and observing the world with my mind.

When Betty and I first came in, the enemy had been few and lax. But now, all eyes were on this simple building we were in.

Rifles, snipers, bazookas—they were ready for us. I sighed inwardly. This wasn't what I signed up for. Nothing in Ninja Momma's descriptions had hinted at this.

It's a good thing I'm strong.

"We'll be heading into a hot zone. Just stay behind me and stay alert."

Past the lobby, I entered another winding corridor. Unlike the one on the right side of the building, this one had stairs leading up, and I quickly climbed them.

"Where are we headed?" Kyle asked.

"Rooftop."

It took a few minutes, but we eventually arrived. A palm strike sent an iron door flying open, and the night sky came into view.

"Mr. Benedict, I don't have to educate you on who witches are, do I?"

"No. I'm aware of their existence."

Kyle's guard didn't react to our conversation, so I assumed they were already in the know.

"There are several witches in the sky, so please do your best to stay inconspicuous."

"Understood."

Moving forward, I led the team to the edge of the building, then glanced down.

The night was still dark, but some lights revealed that the streets were deserted.

"There are so many of them," Kyle whispered behind me, a gulp escaping his lips.

"Have you ever faced a witch?"

"No."

"Hmm. You and your men stay low. I'll come get you after I keep her."

"Wha—"

I didn't wait for Kyle to finish. I jumped onto the ledge and then pushed off from the building, my figure soaring through the air.