"Heh, sorry about that," Ryden said, his tone suddenly steady.
It was hard to tell which version of him was real.
Ophelia blinked, then forced herself to refocus.
"I want to work with you. You're a genius. I want you to provide weapons and equipment," she said plainly.
"In return, I'll take over as the head of Hydra. With that kind of power backing you, the benefits would be enormous. What do you say?"
Ryden studied her with interest.
She looked stiff in the evening gown.
A warrior used to mercenary life wouldn't enjoy refined elegance. It dulled the edge.
"Cooperation?" he asked.
"Just you and me?"
Ryden fell silent.
The pause made Ophelia uneasy.
This was the first time she had seriously considered betraying her leader.
She had seen too many innocent women toyed with and destroyed by the monsters inside the organization.
If not for her lethal skills and her ruthlessness, she would have been defiled long ago.
But luck always ran out.
Her foster father, Eckert-that disgusting old lecher-had started looking at her differently.
He had even demanded she share his bed.
It made her sick.
Ryden's silence made her fingers twitch toward her weapon.
Killing was routine for her.
In the chaos of Europe, hundreds died every day.
After seeing hell, this meant nothing.
"Heh. Interesting," Ryden said at last.
"I'm in. You can drop the bloodlust-we're partners now."
He tilted his head.
"But before we start, why are you doing this?"
Ryden didn't quite understand why the future Madame Hydra was moving now.
It felt like uncovering a hidden RPG side quest.
His curiosity flared.
Ophelia paused, her voice sharp with barely contained rage.
"Because Eckert wants to touch me," she said.
"No way. None of those filthy men will ever touch me."
Ryden broke into a cold sweat.
If she lost control now, this could turn into a tragedy-or a very stupid death.
"Easy," he said quickly. "Calm down. I get it. Those creeps are the worst. In Brooklyn, that's a capital offense."
He tried to steady her.
If she snapped, he was done for.
Slowly, it worked.
Ophelia took a deep breath and forced the anger down.
Ryden hesitated, then asked, "So... the old lecher hasn't succeeded, right?"
She nearly exploded.
She glared at him, teeth clenched.
"No. Now shut up."
The air went stiff.
Ryden coughed and took a sip of tea to break the tension.
"Right. Cooperation is good. We're in the same trench now," he said.
"But we need a plan. What you suggested earlier was too vague. We need precision. Step by step."
Ophelia looked at him, surprised.
"Have you been to war?"
"Uh, no," Ryden replied. "I'm just a genius who reads military strategy for fun."
Then his expression shifted.
"Let's look at your situation. Two heads are better than one."
His playful tone vanished, replaced by sharp, focused composure.
Ophelia wasn't used to that shift.
But she didn't dislike it.
There was something compelling about a man completely absorbed in his work.
"My plan was simple," she said. "Get the weapons, gather men, wait for the old man to relax, and kill him."
Her eyes were fierce.
Ryden rubbed his chin.
"No. Too crude. I thought you'd have something more refined."
He waved away her violence-first approach.
"Don't rush. You need to make him comfortable. Use intelligence to numb his instincts," he continued.
"Gather manpower in the shadows. Feed him false information and lure him out."
He paused.
"You don't even need to pull the trigger. A crate of explosives is cleaner."
Ophelia listened without interrupting.
"Step one," Ryden said. "Tell him you've hooked me. Say I'm a pervert and you need to keep 'seducing' me to get my secrets."
He shrugged.
"It keeps suspicion off you. And it keeps you out of his bed."
"That's step one."
"Step two," he continued. "We build a power base. You know the Spades Gang? Third-largest gang in Brooklyn?"
He looked at her.
"I built it. I'll hand it to you. You manage it. Recruit talent. Use their funds."
"With my development plan and your leadership, we'll grow fast."
"Step three," Ryden said calmly. "Sell the old man's location to his enemies. Let them fight it out."
He exhaled.
"We finish him off in the chaos. No loose ends."
It was clean.
Logical.
Ophelia nodded slowly.
For the first time, there was genuine approval in her eyes.
"I didn't expect someone as handsome as you to be this wicked," she said.
"Guess you really can't judge a book by its cover."
Ryden smiled faintly.
"Life's cruel. If you want to live well, you have to think harder," he said.
"We're the same. My parents were killed by agents I can't even name."
He looked ahead, calm.
"I'm alone. I protect myself. And I avenge them."
Ophelia felt something stir.
Sympathy.
They were both just trying to claw their way out of misery.
She stepped forward and pulled him into a brief, maternal embrace, patting his head.
Ryden froze.
The warrior girl... had a soft side?
He didn't resist.
You couldn't understand greatness from afar.
You had to feel it.
"Thanks, Ophelia," Ryden said as he stepped back.
"I'll get you out of that hole. I can't promise heaven."
"But you'll have freedom. And fresh air."
His voice was firm.
Whether she was acting or not, he meant it.
And honestly, a smart, beautiful woman like her was worth the effort.
Once he brought her in, there would be time to smooth those rough edges.
Ophelia flushed.
It was a new sensation.
"Ryden," she asked quietly, "why are you being so good to me?"
He laughed.
"Because we're allies. Because we've lived similar lives," he said.
"And because you're a good girl."
He met her eyes.
"I'm not a good man. But I'd die for my family. And for my woman."
Ophelia smiled.
For the first time, her beauty truly bloomed.
"Ryden, you're a fool," she said softly.
"Just call me Ophi."
She leaned closer.
"Back home, a man can have many wives if he's strong enough. I don't mind sharing you-if you're strong enough to protect me."
Then she smirked.
"But for now?"
"You're not there yet."
Every 100 Power Stones gets 1 bonus chapters!