Darius closed the door to his office behind him. He looked at Cale with an unreadable expression. What was that? Disappointment? Frustration?
That was what Cale was feeling. He knew what was coming. It was all over Darius’s eyes.
“I’m going to have to let you go, kid.”
“Why?” Cale asked. “Because of a rumor?”
“You don’t get it,” Darius said and walked to the window. The massive city sprawled beneath the high view like a shiny toy of some god. The view made the city look like an ant hill. Suddenly he felt small.
“Why do you think I gave a shit about you in the first place? It wasn’t your winning smile.”
“I thought I showed promise…” Cale said, trying hard to keep his voice steady.
“You did,” Darius said brusquely. “That’s what makes this harder than it should be. But this is business, and I have to keep my head cool.”
“I have Aura inside me, so what?”
Darius chuckled dryly. He walked over to the small table where he had his drinks, and poured a finger of spirit in a glass. He offered it to Cale. “Drink.”
Cale chugged it down. It was smooth and barely burned on the way down. He felt a warmth in his stomach, but it didn’t reach further.
“You have a True Integra inside you,” Darius said. “Every faction knows that right now. Not to mention said Integra helped a total newbie kill Core Formation Cultivator. How the hell do you suppose me or Gray Lotus protects a Body Tempering cultivator from abduction and assassination? You’re going to cost us more than you’re worth and be neutralized anyway. Walk away, kid.”
Cale felt a storm starting to brew inside of him. The warmth of the liquor faded, and all he felt was a cold lurch in his stomach. “Walk away? To what? Go back to the city and sell hoverboards for a living until I grow old and forget who I wanted to be? NO!”
Cale slammed the drink down on the crystal table. The damn thing didn’t even have the decency to dramatically crack. Darius wanted to say something, but seemed to be at a loss for words. That gave Cale some grim satisfaction.
“You can’t show me this life and then yank it all away,” Cale said. “This is all I know. This is all I want.”
Darius pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Tough tits, kid. You can’t win every hand.”
“Every hand?” Cale said with his voice trembling. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”
“Hey,” Darius said sharply. “Watch yourself now.”
“Screw you,” Cale said. “You talk boldly about this go big or go home idea. Telling me to play my hand and never fold. Well you’re folding now!”
Darius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t make the rules, kid.”
“You think I’m going to roll over, just because the game got hard?”
Darius gave him the side eye. “You’re a stubborn little shit.”
Cale smirked. “Takes one to know one.”
Darius smiled wryly. “Look. You’re too much heat. Too many eyes are about to be on you, and I have my own skin to worry about. I’m not a damn babysitter.”
“So that’s it?” Cale asked.
“That’s it,” Darius said and walked to the door. “We won’t kill you. Juice is not worth the squeeze. Better to show the other factions that you walked away. Don’t waste your life.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
“I didn’t ask for a handout,” Cale snapped.
Darius opened the door. “Goodbye, kid.”
*
Cale stormed out, his hands clenched into fists. His heart pounded, not just from anger—but from something he refused to name. He wasn’t wrong. He knew that. So why did it feel like the door slamming behind him felt so unfair.
A group of executives strolled past, power-walking like they owned the air. They didn’t even look at him. He wasn’t worth noticing. A woman wearing a tightly tailored dress turned the corner talking to an earpiece with a floating screen of mana-glass floating in front of her. She almost rammed into Cale, who stepped out of the way. She didn’t say sorry or look back.
Cale felt useless and alone. But he wasn’t about to throw a pity party for himself. He would not quit, he would not stop. He would find a way.
As he angry-walked, Cale almost ran into a cleaning drone. A blocky thing with a blue glow of mana emanating from under it. It beeped at Cale, as if angry. Cale felt a strong urge to kick it on its side, but he resisted it. He still had his dignity.
Cale slowed down and walked a few paces before he stopped to watch an awkward scene unfold. There was a cultivator leaning against Fiara’s desk like he owned it, wearing a smarmy smile. He had handsome boyish features, blue pants, blue vest and a perfectly waxed back medium length blonde hair. He was clicking that large ring on the table rhythmically.
“It’s the black shoed one from before,” Aura said. “Eugh…”
The petty and tyrannical Mana Circuitry level cultivator was clearly in a different mood. Gone were the lines of disdain around his mouth. He was drawling something softly to Fiara. A few employees passed by, casting quick glances before looking away. No one wanted to be involved.
No one except the guy with nothing to lose…
“Go away, Zavio,” Fiara said without looking up. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor in front of her, as she tapped away. Cale needed only to take a look at her shoulders to see how uncomfortable she was.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Zavio drawled smoothly. “Don’t you get tired of playing hard to get? All I’m asking for is lunch.”
“I’m working, as you can see,” Fiara said tersely.
“Dinner, then,” Zavio said, and leaned further on the desk. “Much better. We won’t have to rush…”
Cale stepped forward. “Wow. You really suck at this.”
Zavio turned, eyes narrowing. “What?”
Cale gestured vaguely. “Flirting. Being a person. Take your pick.”
Fiara suppressed a snort and Cale caught a flash of gratitude in her eyes.
“What did you say to me?” Zavio said in a low voice. “Do you know who I am?”
“I’m sure you are dying to tell me,” Cale said and put a hand in his pocket.
“I am Zavio Wren, of the Wrenfamily. My aunt is the chief operative director.”
“Your greatest accomplishment, I’m sure,” Cale said.
“Cale! He is at first stage Mana Circuitry.”
“And what does a little shit like you know about accomplishments?” Zavio asked, no longer leaning against the counter as much as he was looming at Cale. Or trying to. They were the same height, so it didn’t quite work as much. Zavio must have noticed that, so he opted to stand on his toes.
“Has to be hard,” Cale said.
“What…?” Zavio asked cautiously.
“Carrying all that insecurity around. Must get heavy.”
Fiara clamped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head slowly. Her eyes practically screamed, Oh my god, you did not. Cale suppressed a smirk, but Zavio turned to Fiara, then back to Cale.
“You think you’re funny, trash?”
“No,” Cale said and openly laughed now. “You’re way funnier.”
Zavio’s eye twitched. Cale could see he absolutely hated this. For some reason or other, this guy was used to getting what he wanted. He wasn’t used to being challenged, and it showed. Cale could smell his old money pomp from a mile away, and he knew that type couldn’t stand some nobody making sport of him.
This isn’t going to end pretty. Good. Screw this guy.
Zavio lunged at Cale and grabbed him by the shirt. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you, funny guy?”
Cale was surprised, but controlled himself. He wouldn’t give this guy any speck of satisfaction. He just looked back at Zavio with an unimpressed expression.
“Let’s see if you’re more than just talk,” Zavio growled. “I officially challenge you to a simulated deathmatch.”
Fiara froze. “Cale, you shouldn’t—”
“Silence,” Zavio barked, his gaze fixed on Cale.
The heavy silence around them was only broken by the soft beeping of the cleaning drone in the corner. Cale didn’t know what a simulated deathmatch entailed exactly, but he didn’t particularly care. He wanted to break this guy.
“Well?” Zavio raised an eyebrow. “Are you still funny, or are you afraid?”
Cale exhaled through his nose. Then he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.
“Yeah, I accept,” he said. “I’d love to beat your ass.”