Eve narrowed her eyes. “Care to explain why? If our one advantage is being choked off, things will be difficult for us.”

  The Bookkeeper’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “That explanation will require payment. If Wallace agrees, I’ll charge you another ‘I owe you.’”

  Wallace groaned, rolling his eyes in frustration. “Yeah, fine. I’m already stuck with you anyway.”

  “Good,” the Bookkeeper replied, his smile deepening. “You see, anything related to the gods I am unable to learn. The same goes for any knowledge about when the Seven Sins will appear.”

  At the mention of the Sins, Baal perked up, a dark glint sparking in his eyes. “For those curious,” he drawled while stretching lazily, “the Sins are fragments of the original Demon King. If someone combines all seven, either the King is revived—or the collector becomes the new Demon King, depending on the circumstances. It seems even a fragment of a god blinds our dear Bookkeeper.” He grinned sharply, savoring the uneasy expressions around the table.

  Lazarus raised a brow. “Is that how you lost your throne as Demon King?”

  Baal’s grin widened, tinted with bitterness. “No, no. My successor trapped me in an infinite death loop until I simply gave up. It was… creative.” His tone was light but laced with old grudges.

  Markus pressed on, his impatience clear. “So what about the gods is related to Nikolai… and Iris?”

  The Bookkeeper tilted his head, eyes gleaming mischievously. “Ah, for that, Wallace will owe me two more ‘I owe you’s.”

  Wallace’s eyes widened in outrage. “What the hell, why me?!”

  The Bookkeeper shrugged with a playful smile. “You agreed to the first. Will you agree to this?”

  Wallace clenched his fists, biting back a string of curses. “Fine… asshole,” he muttered under his breath.

  The Bookkeeper chuckled softly before continuing. “I refuse to tell you anything about Iris—so you'll only owe me one for that. But as for Nikolai…” He paused dramatically, savoring the tension. “Nikolai has a connection with the God of Death and Disorder—Pandora.”

  A collective gasp filled the room. Eliza’s brow furrowed as she absorbed the revelation. “Pandora… the God of Death and Disorder,” she murmured, the name heavy with a history she wasn’t ready to confront.

  Baal leaned back, his dark chuckle reverberating as the tension mounted. “Oh, for those curious, the title of Demon King also comes with the bonus of being the God of the Moon and Madness,” he announced, his voice dripping with twisted amusement.

  Sabrina, her voice hesitant yet filled with curiosity, asked, “Why would a god be interested in Nikolai?”

  Before anyone else could speak, the Bookkeeper interjected smoothly, “Wallace, that will cost another ‘I owe you.’”

  Wallace groaned, slumping in his chair, his face pale with exasperation. “Please, for the love of all that is sacred, stop asking him questions! I’m drowning in debt here. Fine… I agree, just no more.”

  But instead of answering, the Bookkeeper tilted his head mischievously and smiled. “Kidding. I refuse to answer that one—not because I can’t, but because I choose not to.”

  Thoroughly defeated, Wallace slammed his forehead onto the table with a resounding thud. He left it there, muttering under his breath as the room erupted into a mix of chuckles and awkward silence.

  Jonathan, ever pragmatic, raised an eyebrow at Sabrina. “Hey, Sabrina, can’t you just read his mind? That would save us a world of trouble.”

  Sabrina sighed, a wistful smile playing on her lips. “I’d love to, but if I try, I end up crying blood and teetering on the edge of madness.” Her gaze, intense and unnerving, made Jonathan shift uncomfortably.

  “Please don’t look at me like that. And why would reading his mind do that?” Jonathan pressed.

  She grew momentarily serious. “It’s happened before. When I tried peeking into certain members’ minds—Harvester’s, for instance—the experience physically hurt me. There’s an unfathomable depth in their thoughts that nearly broke me.” Her eyes briefly flicked toward the silent, still figure of Harvester.

  “So you’ve been peeking, then?” Jonathan’s tone turned cold and accusatory.

  “No! I swear I haven’t!” Sabrina protested, waving her hands in a mix of panic and sincerity. “I wouldn’t dare—I promise!”

  Jonathan’s eyes darkened dangerously. “Good. Because if you had, I’d have to kill you.”

  Sabrina shivered with excitement and leaned over to whisper to Eliza, “Oh, I love that cold look in his eyes. It’s so… thrilling.”

  Eliza, rolling her eyes as she reclined, muttered, “You have issues. Major issues.”

  Sabrina giggled, unfazed by the jab.

  “So which minds have you tried and failed to read?” Jonathan asked.

  With a playful mimic of the Bookkeeper’s tone, Sabrina replied, “That’ll cost you—how about an ‘I owe you’? I won’t ask too much… maybe just a date.”

  Jonathan grinned. “Fine, I’ll take you on a date—and I’ll even pay.”

  Instantly, Sabrina’s eyes lit up. From across the room, Wallace leaned over to his brother. “What is that heartless bastard scheming now? In a million years, he would never offer to pay for a date.”

  Markus chimed in with a chuckle, “He’s got Harvester nearly wrapped around his finger with that info on Michello. We’re good friends with him. Controlling Baal’s a breeze when you sweet-talk Mia, and now he’s playing with Sabrina’s feelings. I bet he plans to seize the Bookkeeper using Iris. He’s claiming the Council for himself.”

  Wallace shook his head. “Sly fox—he’s got charm and promises on his side.”

  Sabrina blushed and asked, “So where are we having our date?”

  Jonathan’s voice softened to a silky murmur. “I’d rather not let the others know what I have planned. Just read my mind—it’ll be our secret.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Sabrina’s nose began to bleed as she closed her eyes and activated her ability. When she opened them, she said lovingly, “Let’s see… I can’t read the Alexanders, Eves, the Bookkeeper’s, Lazarus’s, or Harvester’s mind. And I’m afraid Baal’s is most likely off-limits too, okay, my love?”

  “Thank you very much,” Jonathan said, smiling as the tension melted into a shared, secret understanding.

  “Ahem, anyway, I've been thinking,” Alexander began, his voice calm yet undeniably authoritative, “both facilities need greater protection. So, I’m authorizing Markus to have his seals temporarily removed.”

  A ripple of shock surged through the Council as eyes widened in disbelief. Every member knew that if left unchecked, Markus’s untamed potential could annihilate the world. To keep him in line, three seals had been imposed: one on his brain, limiting his intellect and technique; another on his spine, curbing his physical prowess; and a final one on his heart, restricting the aura he could wield.

  “Wait, sir, you can’t be serious!” Lazarus blurted, his composure cracking under the weight of the announcement.

  “He’s right—this is insane, sir,” Wallace added, his tone heavy with worry as he glanced at Markus, who remained stone-faced but visibly tensed at the mere mention of his seals.

  Alexander’s gaze swept across the room, unyielding in the face of their protests. “Precisely because it’s insane, only Wallace will be permitted to unseal him. I’ll provide him the key.” His voice was steady, though an undercurrent of something darker pulsed beneath his words, daring anyone to challenge his decree.

  A collective sigh of relief passed through the Council. Wallace’s reputation for restraint made him the only man fit for such a burden, yet the idea of unleashing Markus’s full power still unsettled even the most hardened members.

  Before the tension could dissipate, Alexander dropped his second bombshell. Leaning back in his chair with unnerving calm, he continued, “However, my other suggestion might scare you all. Frank, I will be providing you with a grade-0 artifact of your choice.”

  Instant panic rippled through the room. Fear flashed in the eyes of the Council as their gazes darted between Alexander and Frank, who, for the first time, appeared genuinely intrigued.

  “Sir, while my brother’s reckless behavior is one thing—I can manage that—but this is too much,” Wallace protested, his voice taut with concern. Even as the Council’s most level-headed member, he couldn’t mask his alarm at the prospect of Frank wielding such power.

  Frank, however, beamed cheerfully. “I believe this is a wonderful idea.”

  Alexander remained unfazed. “Trust me, it’s fine. I suggest you choose Mj?lnir—it will complement your abilities perfectly.”

  Frank’s expression turned sweet as he inquired, “May I have my seal removed, sir?”

  “I’ll consider it,” Alexander replied calmly.

  The Council exchanged uneasy glances, torn between trusting their leader’s judgment and fearing the chaos that might ensue. Frank merely chuckled, his fingers twitching.

  “Sir,” Wallace began again, softer yet no less urgent, “are you absolutely certain this is the right course of action?”

  “I am,” Alexander said firmly, his eyes locking with Wallace’s in a silent dare to object further.

  The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension thick as fog. There was no more room for debate. They all had their orders, and despite their misgivings, the Council chose to trust their leader. Yet an unspoken question lingered in the air—had Alexander just set something unstoppable in motion?

  The conversation shifted as Sabrina, her brow furrowed, finally voiced the lingering question. “Speaking of Nikolai, I’ve been wondering… why did he ever leave A.E.G.I.S? He was a guaranteed council member—a brilliant agent. With all the empty seats we’ve had, he was an obvious choice.”

  The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Jonathan. He exhaled deeply before answering, “I can answer that. He didn’t trust our bosses’ motives during the Invidia raid. His fiancée was killed then, and it left him with a lot of unresolved anger and suspicion. Hell, I often don’t trust the bosses’ motives.”

  Jonathan’s gaze then sharpened as he locked eyes with Alexander.

  Alexander met his glare without flinching, his expression calm yet cold. “Is there something you wish to say, Jonathan? Or is that why you've been going through my files recently?”

  The accusation hung in the air like a bomb waiting to detonate. Jonathan’s lips curled into a sneer as he leaped onto the table, drawing a thorned blade that pulsed with dark, crimson energy. “Fine. Let’s stop dancing around the issue. How about you explain yourself? You’ve known for a while that I’ve been digging. You’ve had time to come up with excuses. So let’s hear it—start with Project: Dark Sun. Or should I call it by its other name?”

  A ripple of shock passed through the room at the mention of Dark Sun. The tension thickened; every council member shifted uncomfortably. Even Baal, usually detached and amused, looked intrigued.

  Alexander’s eyes narrowed, his calm facade cracking just enough to reveal irritation. The chamber teetered on the edge of violence, each second stretching as Jonathan’s accusation loomed. Finally, Alexander’s voice cut through the silence, cool and measured:

  “Would you believe the lie that I have no idea what you’re talking about, and end it here before things get dangerous for you?”

  Jonathan smirked. “Let me jog your memory. It’s the Reaper replacement project.”

  At that, Markus shot up from his seat, eyes wide with shock. “Sir, what is this about?” His tone mingled confusion with growing alarm.

  Before anyone could react further, a blur of light sliced through the room, striking Jonathan’s cheek. Blood streamed down his face as he staggered back—barely registering the speed of the attack. Alexander hadn’t moved from his seat, but his message was clear: he was not to be trifled with.

  “I believe I ordered you to stop this,” Alexander said, his voice sharpening with authority. “So stop it. Now.”

  In a flash, Jonathan roared in defiance. He swung his thorned sword in a swift, deadly arc aimed straight at Alexander. The blade shattered on impact against a shimmering barrier—Alexander’s impenetrable defense. Sparks flew as the force of the clash reverberated through the chamber, the energy between them crackling like a storm on the verge of breaking.

  A blinding light coalesced in Alexander’s hand, its intensity forcing the others to shield their eyes. The oppressive weight of his power thickened the air, threatening to tear the room apart. Just as the situation neared its breaking point, the Bookkeeper intervened. With a snap of his fingers, he conjured a translucent barrier between the two men, halting the conflict.

  “I’d recommend you two children stop this,” The Bookkeeper remarked dryly, his eyes glinting behind his spectacles.

  Alexander’s light flickered briefly before dissipating, though his tense posture remained. “Fine,” he spat through gritted teeth, still staring down Jonathan. “If you must know, it’s simply a plan to create someone stronger than Markus. That’s all you need to concern yourself with.”

  Markus stiffened, the revelation hitting him like a punch. Stronger than him? The thought churned in his mind, but he said nothing—only his eyes stayed locked on Alexander, searching for answers.

  Jonathan wasn’t finished. His voice, measured yet seething with fury, pressed on. “Fine then, tell me this—what is your goal for hunting the Sins? What’s the real reason you’ve been hiding from us? What’s the goal you’ve been sending us to die for?”

  The accusation sliced through the lingering uncertainty. Even Baal, who had been lounging lazily, sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.

  Alexander’s eyes flicked toward Jonathan, a flash of irritation crossing his face, but his voice remained steady as he answered, “The Sins are the cause of the corruption in our world. Slay them all, and the corruption ends. It’s as simple as that. With each Blood Moon, the corruption spreads further, and soon there won’t be anything left to save.”

  Jonathan stared, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “You expect us to keep risking our lives, chasing shadows for some vague promise that slaying the Sins will magically fix everything?”

  “It’s the only way,” Alexander replied coldly and resolutely. “We don’t have the luxury of doubt anymore.”

  Jonathan clenched his jaw, his fists tightening around the remnants of his shattered sword. “Fine,” he finally said, turning on his heel. “Wallace, Markus, let’s go. We have work to do.”

  Markus hesitated, glancing between Jonathan and Alexander before silently following Jonathan out the door. Wallace, however, paused, a heavy sigh escaping as he looked back.

  “It seems our meeting is over,” The Bookkeeper said smoothly, cutting through the tension. His gaze shifted to Wallace with a glint of satisfaction. “However, Wallace, I will need you to cash in that favor now. Stay here.”

  Wallace groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Of course you do,” he muttered, slumping back into his chair as the others departed. “I should’ve seen this coming…”

  Edit:Didn't realize this chapter had the same name has another, damn. Fixed now