Jessica swirled the tequila in her glass, watching the amber liquid catch the dim light of the office lamp. She tilted her head slightly and asked, "What is a Forge Master?"
Jasen leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment while his mind flipped through memories of the Castlevania games, the TV show, the old lore from scattered medias and forums. He couldn't exactly tell her that was where the knowledge came from, but he could offer just enough to be convincing.
"Think of a Forge Master," he said slowly, "as a specialist… a craftsman who works with more than just metal and tools. In the old legends they weren't just blacksmiths they created weapons and, sometimes, monsters the monstersis what they were more famous for. They even infused objects with power. A Forge Master can bind magic, curses, or even souls into steel or corpses."
Jessica raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but skeptical. "So, some kind of supernatural blacksmith?"
Jasen nodded. "Pretty much but their work wasn't just for killing. They could make relics, weapons to fight creatures you couldn't be fought with ordinary blades, or create things no normal smith could ever produce."
She took another sip, considering Jasen's words. "That could be very useful for us." Jasen smirked faintly. "If you want more detail, you should ask Alucard. He could explain it better than I can. I'm giving you the watered-down version."
She looked thoughtful and nodded. "I'll do that. Thanks for the information." There was a beat of silence. Then she shifted, legs crossing, the faint scrape of her heels on the carpet breaking the quiet. Her voice was lighter, but there was a bite of curiosity in it then she spoke. "What do you think of Alucard?"
I glanced over at her, reading her expression before answering. "Why do you ask?"
She didn't hesitate. "Besides his handsome and stoic face?" There was the faintest smirk at the corner of her mouth before it faded into seriousness. "He's… mysterious not in the intriguing, romantic sense, either. More like he's hiding something, or refusing to share it."
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, swirling my glass absently. "He is half human, half vampire. And he's the son of Dracula. Connecting to people probably isn't easy when you've outlived almost everyone you've ever cared about. Keeping distance is probably the only coping mechanism he has left."
Jessica studied me over the rim of her glass, eyes narrowing slightly. "I understand that," she admitted. "But that's not what I meant." She set her glass down, leaning a bit closer. "It's like he knows more, like you do and he's choosing not to say anything that could help."
Her eyes locked on Jasen's, sharp and unwavering. "Just like a certain someone else I know." Jasen stopped mid-sip, the tequila burning on my tongue. Her words landed heavier than she probably meant them to, or maybe exactly as she meant them. My hand paused, glass halfway to Jasen's lips, as he met her stare.
He didn't say anything right away, because he knew exactly who she meant. Jasen set his glass down slowly, eyes narrowing as he studied Jessica. "Say what you mean instead of beating around the bush."
Jessica's lips pressed together for a beat before she sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "I didn't mean for it to come off like that," she said carefully. "I'm just saying—you know so much, and you say something only after it happens or right when it's almost too late. If you shared everything from the start, we could prepare."
Jasen leaned back in his seat, loosening his tie, feeling the tequila's warmth settle into his chest. "I've shared so much already," he said, his tone sharp but not angry. "And somehow, it's still not enough."
Jessica set her own drink down on the table with a soft clink. Then, without a word, she reached up, pulled the pins from her bun, and let her golden hair fall over her shoulders. Her suit coat came off next, folding over the arm of the couch. It was impossible not to notice her curves, the way she carried herself with that calculated confidence, but her eyes stayed locked on mine as she leaned in slightly closer.
"Jasen," she said evenly, "I know you've shared a lot. But think of it if we knew everything you knew, if we had evidence, if we had context then maybe Raccoon City wouldn't have happened."
Jasen chuckled, not because it was funny, but because it was bitterly ironic. He tugged at the knot of his tie until it hung loose, and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Jessica, the U.S. government is part of the reason that incident happened. William Berkin worked for Umbrella, sure but when he wanted to leave, he new he would die getting betrayed like he did to others. So he went to the government and it helped that Wesker was incompetent."
Jessica straightened, her brows furrowing. "Explain."
He reached for my glass, swirled the last bit of tequila, and stared into it as if the amber liquid might hold all the answers. "Berkin was in secret contact with the U.S. government. He planned to hand over his research, in exchange for full backing and protection for him and his family. Umbrella was cutting his funding, but still expecting results. The government promised him everything Umbrella wouldn't."
Jasen looked up, his voice hard now. "The U.S. government had enough info to go in and stop Umbrella's inhumane experiments. You've read the files Annette gave you all you know Im right. "
Jessica stayed quiet, but her jaw tightened. "Umbrella took locals, even teenagers and children, and experimented on them in ways so inhumane it can go down in history next to what the Nazis did, or the Xinjiang internment camps," He said, his tone sharp enough to cut the air. "But the U.S. didn't stop them. They cut Berkin a deal and when everything went to hell, they nuked the town."
Jessica exhaled, her voice softer. "I know. You're right about that and the government did drop the ball."
Jasen finished the tequila in one swallow and set the empty glass down calmly. " If you think I trust the government not to do something just as stupid or worse when it comes to using my blood or magic, demons, or anything otherworldly for their own profit or power, then you're wrong."
He leaned in, voice low but steady. "I'll work with you. I'll work with them, as much as possible. But the second they start looking like Umbrella or worse, I'll burn it all to the ground before I let it continue."
Jessica didn't flinch, but there was a flicker in her eyes calculation, maybe even respect. "Then you'd be fighting the supernatural and the U.S. government," she said quietly. "If not the world itself."
Jasen stared back at her, the silence between us heavy as stone. "Let's hope," I said, my voice like iron, "we never get to that point."
He poured the last splash from the bottle into my glass, downed it, and set it on the table with finality.
Jasen and Jessica stared each other down in heavy silence, the kind that makes the air feel thick. Neither blinked, neither looked away. The tension was a taut wire between them, ready to snap until the shrill ring of the office phone cut through it like a blade.
Jasen exhaled slowly, breaking eye contact first. He rose from the couch, straightening his vest and loosening his shoulders, while Jessica drained the last of her cup, the glass making a soft click as she set it down.
He crossed the room and picked up the phone. "This is J," he said flatly. On the other end came a warm, oily voice, too cheerful to be genuine. "Jasen, my friend! Long time. You sound as cold as this winter, but I know you missed me."
Jasen sighed, rubbing his temple. "Now's not the time, Enzo."
"Oh really?" Enzo replied, smugness lacing his tone. "I thought I'd get back to you on that last request. The one about finding that woman with the weird name what was it again? Ah. Bayonetta." Jasen's eyes sharpened, interest flickering through his calm facade. "You found her?" His voice carried a note of excitement he rarely allowed anyone to hear.
"Not exactly," Enzo hedged, suddenly less smug. "But I found someone connected to her in a way. Let me tell you, this is not an easy ask—even with your kind of money."
Jasen's grip on the phone tightened. "What is it, Enzo?" Enzo hesitated for half a second. "I owe a man named Rodin like alot."
Jasen froze, his mind rifling through everything he knew from his other life. Rodin, un the games, was more than an arms dealer. He was a secret boss, a broker of impossible deals and one of the most powerful demons in existence. This wasn't just big; this could change everything.
He leaned on the desk, his voice dropping lower. "You owe him? What are you trying drag me into?"
"Relax, relax," Enzo chuckled nervously. "He's a businessman. A very scary businessman, but still a businessman first." Jasen's mind was already running ahead, calculating. "Give me his location," he said. "If you owe him a debt, I'll help you pay it—but you're introducing me to him personally. What's the address?"
Enzo rattled off a location an industrial corner of New York, far from any main street, the kind of place people didn't wander by accident.
Jasen nodded to himself. "Fine. I'll be there a week from today. Be ready, Enzo. And if you're not there when I arrive, I'll send people after you as a training exercise."
There was a beat of nervous laughter on the other end. "Is that really necessary?"
"Yes," Jasen said flatly. "You're a good informant, Enzo, but you're still a shifty bastard. Find a wife and settle down with some kids and clean up your life." Before Enzo could respond, Jasen hung up.
He turned to see Jessica watching him, her arms folded. "Was that good news?" she asked. Jasen smirked faintly. "You're bugging my phone, so you'll know soon enough."
Jessica sighed, rubbing her brow. "That's not true."Jasen nodded like he believed her. "Of course not," he said, deadpan. "I'll take your word for it."
"Was there anything else?" he asked, tone sharper now, getting back to business. Then Jessica leaned to her leather briefcase, snapping it open. She pulled out a single thin file, placed it on the desk, and stood, smoothing her skirt. "This," she said simply, handing it to him.
Jasen frowned. "What is this?"
"Consider it a warning if we are gonna be working together" she replied, picking up her coat and slipping her arms into itand openingthe office door to leave. Her bodyguards were waiting outside the office door, barely visible through the glass. She paused at the threshold, looking back over her shoulder. "I owe you another bottle next time I visit. And… I do believe in what you're doing just watch your back."
She left, the door clicking shut behind her, her footsteps fading. Jasen stared at the file on his desk for a moment before opening it.
Theb his breath caught in his throat. It wasn't a warning but a full blown revelation. A full background check—on him was in the file. The pages confirmed what he already feared: he didn't exist in this world. No birth records. No blood relatives from his DNA. No history at all before 1997—when Leo made the fake ID that had allowed him to function.
And then he saw it a handwritten note in neat, unmistakable script. They are watching you more than you think. Do not trust them.
Jasen stared at the words, his jaw tightening as the weight of it all settled around him like a storm.
"Shit."