[A/N: Hey guys, just a heads-up: the novel's been officially rejected by webnovel for supposedly not fitting their business model. Unfortunately, my financial situation is not strong enough to spend a lot of time writing without at least the prospect of earning a little money with it. For now, that means the release rate will remain low, but I'll also start releasing chapters on RR, and see if that leads to anything.
With that out of the way, please enjoy reading :) ]
"Boss?" Crash frowned sceptically at Damian's remark. Cautiously, he followed Damian to the kitchen table. "You… want us to work for you? What could we possibly have to offer someone like you?"
His sceptical frown was imitated by everyone else, except for Tilly, who really didn't care. From the moment she'd met Damian, she felt strangely comfortable with him. Like he could be trusted. She didn't know why she felt that way, but it wasn't the first time—and this feeling had yet to disappoint her.
So, rather than worry about his exact plans, she walked over to the kitchen to make some of the expensive tea they'd bought yesterday with the money Damian had given them.
"Oh?" Damian smiled as he took a seat at the table and looked at the uncertain group before him. His crimson eyes, which somehow seemed both intense and lazy, focused on Crash. "Can you tell me what you mean when you say 'someone like me'?"
"You know," Crash shrugged, seemingly unwilling to take a seat, "a glowr— ah!"
Suddenly, Echo elbowed him in the side, her tense eyes never leaving Damian as her brows twitched. "Sorry, my arms slipped," she smiled tersely. "He meant to say highborn."
Crash's eyes immediately widened, while Aurora rolled hers and the others twitched nervously. "R— Right!" Crash nodded quickly.
Damian looked at their faces and chuckled. He'd heard the term 'glowrat' before, when he was strolling through the streets of the Expanse. It was a common slur for the Highborn living in the central district.
"Don't be so nervous," he smirked playfully, waving his hand dismissively. "I don't often swear, but if it helps, I hereby swear on my soul that none of you will die today, alright? My hide is quite thick, so I won't be offended, no matter what you say."
He gestured at the chairs in front of him. "Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable."
The five friends glanced at each other before Crash finally took the leap and stepped forward. With a stern, solemn look in his eyes, he sat down at the table, right in front of Damian. With their leader setting an example, the others followed suit.
Soon, all five of them were sitting across from Damian with a rainbow of expressions, but each with a modicum of sceptical caution.
Only Aurora stayed behind and watched nervously. She'd realized by now that Damian was only ever interested in her son and his friends. She wondered what he wanted from them.
Damian didn't immediately start because Tilly suddenly planted a chipped cup of tea in front of him, and he thanked her with a smile. Slowly, he took a sip and glanced at the people before him. Behind him, Tilly continued running around to make tea for everyone with a wide smile on her face.
She was happy because it appeared that her big brother and new friend were getting along.
Damian let the silence simmer for a moment, but when Crash became impatient enough to speak, Damian broke the silence first. "First of all, let me correct your assumption. I am not a glowrat. In your terminology, I suppose I would be closest to a 'synth'."
With an elegant flourish, he produced Nox Aeternum from inside his body, instantly causing everyone's eyes to widen when its majestic aura filled the room. This wasn't the first time they'd seen a catalyst, but none of the ones they'd seen before gave them such an oppressive feeling.
Damian smiled. Having reached the desired result, he instantly made the sword disappear again, before going back to his tea.
"That's…" Crash gulped, but fell silent, as did everyone else.
Everyone, that is, except for Tilly, who quickly finished her brother's sentence. "…Awesome!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. Traipsing closer, she looked at him with bright eyes. "That looked so cool! Can you do it again?!"
Damian looked at her excitement and felt his eyebrow twitch. He'd planned on providing no more than a glimpse, but with Tilly reminding him of Lilith so much, he found it hard to say no to her. 'I guess there's no harm in it…' he muttered to himself with an inward sigh.
Under the astonished gazes of his audience, he once again conjured the blade and now simply put it down on the table. Tilly looked at it with awe. Instinctively, her hand started reaching for it, but Damian stopped her with a chuckle. "No touching, though. It's a dangerous weapon, after all."
With a disappointed pout, but an understanding nod, she pulled her hand back. "Fair enough…" Her smile quickly returned, however. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed brightly.
Yet, when Crash and his friends recovered from their shock, they reacted very differently. "Would you put that away?!" Crash exclaimed, suddenly even more on edge than before. His expression was distorted in worry, suddenly glancing at the door, as if expecting someone to storm in at any moment.
Damian raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What's got you so concerned, Crash? It's not going to hurt anyone when it's just lying there. At least, not without my input…"
Moxy, equally tense as Crash, snarled at him. "Don't you even know that highborn and other synths can pick up the existence of nearby, active catalysts?!"
The others were no more relaxed than these two, each of them itching to grab the sword and put it away themselves, if not for fear of Damian's reprisal.
Damian turned to look at Moxy with a strange expression, mixing mocking, amusement, and lastly, desire. Although lust was far from his main driving force, it was still a significant part of him, and this brat awakened a strong desire inside him…. a desire to turn her into an obedient, purring servant.
But he quickly shook his head and drove those thoughts out. 'Plenty of time for that later,' he chuckled to himself. Yet, since his thoughts drifted to that point, he glanced over at Echo for a moment… before averting his gaze again.
He had no moral objections to seducing someone who was in a relationship, but he wouldn't do it to a subordinate… assuming that was what they'd soon become.
Finally, he addressed all four of them with a smug smirk. "I don't know what the average synths in this city can or cannot do, but hiding my catalyst's presence is extremely easy for me. Trust me, no one can sense it."
Everyone, even Tilly, glanced at the sword with various levels of scepticism. They could feel the majesty radiating from this powerful weapon, and couldn't imagine it didn't span several building blocks.
Still, they could only take Damian's word for it. So, despite the fact that tensions had risen a little further, Crash decided to move the conversation along.
"Fine… So, you're a Synth?" he frowned thoughtfully, doing his best not to glance at the door anxiously every second. "I admit, that makes me feel a little at ease… although I can't help but wonder where you came from. As far as I know, Synths are either highborn lackeys or living in the Expanse."
His eyes narrowed. "Either way, the former couldn't afford clothes like yours, and the latter wouldn't be found dead in them. So, which are you?"
Damian smiled mysteriously and sipped his tea. "Well, I'm certainly no lackey, and since I slept the night here, I guess I'm the latter now…"