ORBIS INDUSTRIES-Headquarters.
A woman with dark red hair, her skin lightly etched with the signs of middle age, exuded a striking, commanding presence as she sat at the front-center table in the empty conference room. Her right hand rested elegantly under her chin, while her left scribbled notes in a leather-bound journal. Documents were strewn across the table like a tensioned map of a well-ordered mind.
The doors swung open, and a man in a formal black suit rushed in, his strikingly fair features taut with tension. He straightened himself, hands clasped behind his back as if holding in the urgency radiating from him.
"Good morning, ma'am. We have an emergency," he spoke with a steady and urgency tone.
Her gaze remained cool and focused as she raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.
"The Brona brothers have entered Brighton City."
"The Brona brothers? From Morocco?"
"Yes, ma'am. We're unsure of their motive, but with their extreme criminal reputation, there's reason to believe they may have tracked down a supplier for one of the Omicron Prototypes within the state."
She leaned back slightly, "Then we need to find the supplier before they do. Increase surveillance on the brothers. I want eyes on every move they make."
"Deploy more awakeners, but do not engage unless I give the order."
"Understood, ma'am," he affirmed,
+++
"Man, I aced the test!", Meloni said sitting on my right side. Our answer sheets were just collected from us.
"You at least rephrased the answers, right?" I asked, looking at her.
"Yeah, yeah. You worry too much! It's just a class test, not final exams," she replied, and she was right.
"It sucks to be here just because of a class test while all other classes are canceled," I said. It wouldn't have been a problem if the rain hadn't started to pour—quite heavily at that.
"There's nothing we can do about it. And your home is just five minutes away, so why are you pissed? I should be the one who's angry," she said.
"Yours is also just a ten-minute walk. You just don't like the thought of walking that much," I replied.
"Yes, but I'm pissed because I neither have an umbrella nor anyone at home who can pick me up right now. Mom and Dad are both at work," she said.
"You could book a cab," I suggested.
"I don't have my phone," she replied.
"Ask a teacher—"
"Then you can stay at his house until the rain stops, and he'll walk you home right after," Mason interrupted as I was about to speak. He ruffled his red hair and winked at me.
Isn't reaching home a better option for her? Why would she choose to stay at my house?
"Perfect! We will be able to have a duo ranked match since he has two laptops, and it's a better resting spot than school," she added.
"Alright!" I nodded.
"I only have one," Mason said, handing me the umbrella. This bastard emphasized the word "one," as if I were clueless about what was happening right now.
"Don't worry; I'll have a car pick me up. Enjoy your stay," he said with a smirk before walking away.
"Shall we?" I stood up, dropping my pen into my bag and zipping it up.
"Ahan~"
The rain was pretty violent, and I didn't think an umbrella could do much against the wind changing the direction of the rain.
Meloni stood by my side, effortlessly slipping an earbud into her ear and offering the other to me. She wasn't short by any means, but with my height, she barely reached my shoulders.
The cherry wood scent that surrounded her all the time got stronger with her being really close, and we started our very own silent walk. I don't know about her, but for me, it was the most challenging five-minute journey.
-
By the time we reached my house, we were both half wet, and because of our tucked-in format, I guess our shirts weren't left untouched by the water either.
"Phew~ Fuck," she grunted. Wet shoes, socks, and stockings were the most annoying for her.
"Do you have extra clothes?" she asked.
"Hmm... mine might be a lot oversized for you," I replied.
"You don't have any old clothes?"
"Threw 'em away."
"So maybe a really oversized shirt or T that is oversized for you too?" she asked.
"I'll bring it to you. The washroom's on the second floor. There are two rooms, and both of them have a washroom," I said as she nodded and went upstairs.
"Bring a towel too," she shouted and closed the door.
This… is awkward for me. I've never had a visitor in my house before. I searched for my oversized T in the wardrobe; a black hentai manga T-shirt, which I was going to return since the size was wrong but forgot somehow.
"Well, a T-shirt's a T-shirt anyway," I mumbled, picking up an extra towel and moving to the second floor. Entering the room, I placed the clothes on the bed and walked toward the washroom. I could hear the sound of the shower through the door.
"Your clothes and towel are on the bed. I'm leaving the room," I said.
"Thanks," I heard a reply from the other side.
Leaving the room, I went to the other one, which was apparently my personal space, and changed into a casual T-shirt and lower clothes, throwing away the wet clothes in a net bucket. I checked myself in the mirror, running my fingers through my black hair. I removed the lenses from my eyes and put on my black-rimmed specs.
The lenses I wear are specifically black-shaded. My right eye isn't really black; it has a hint of blue, making it look like a dull black. While it's not very noticeable, I prefer wearing lenses because I have a long-sighted issue anyway.
^Sigh, I don't know why, but I shouldn't be this nervous just because she is at my house for a while.
"Right, food. I should make something good!" I snapped my fingers and slipped on a pair of slippers as I left the room.
"Pan's right here, stove check, eggs~where are the eggs?" Mumbling, I opened the fridge and searched for eggs. Not much, but there were four left. That should be enough for two people.
"Spices~spices~"
"Hey!" I heard Meloni shout from upstairs as she stepped down the stairs.
For once, I was left speechless. She was really something… like an angel with a foul mouth. Wearing a black hentai T-shirt that was oversized to her knees and with fluffy, drooped-down hair.
"Is this the only T-shirt you could get?"
"I'm sorry?" Why am I apologizing? She enters my house, wears my T-shirt, and gets angry at me for not having her size?
"Anyways, what are you?" she asked, looking around the house.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"What do I mean? Look around yourself—a story building, dark luxury interior. Your house screams sophistication. Are you the son of some mafia or something? A piano in the drawing room, a designated bar beside the kitchen." She seemed impressed, I guess. I scored a point.
"No, nothing like that," I replied.
"Then what does your father do?" she asked.
"He's a doctor overseas. Quite a reputed one, and his line of work requires frequent travel across countries," I replied.
"Oh~ And what about your mother? She lives overseas too?" she asked.
"About her? I don't have a mom. Though I hope my old man marries one," I said.
"Ah - I see, I'm sorry." Did I kill the mood?
"No worries," I said.
"What're you cooking?" She got near the stove, standing on my side.
"Omlette, Denver one," I said.
"Ahan~ Need help?"
"No need really, I'll get it ready. Just rest up," I said, taking the bowl of spices from her hands.
"Ohkay? Where're your laptops?"
"Second drawer under the TV cabinet."