Mico Valeine had been in corporate towers more times than she could count, but the Longhorn headquarters was different. It reeked of old money and arrogance. Polished marble floors so shiny they reflected the ceiling lights, towering glass walls that overlooked the city like a predator watching its prey.
She adjusted her blazer, a perfectly tailored black piece that made her look like every other corporate heir here. Beside her, her father strolled with the effortless confidence of a man who owned half the room already. His presence opened doors without words; the guards barely glanced at their IDs.
Blend in. Smile when needed. Don't draw attention.
The golden elevator carried them up to the top floor where the meeting was set to take place. The air up here was colder, thinner, as if even oxygen knew to behave in the presence of power. Mico's heels clicked softly against the floor as she walked beside her father, the perfect image of a dutiful daughter.
The receptionist outside the conference room bowed slightly. "Mr. Valeine, Miss Valeine. They're still preparing inside, but you may enter early if you wish to get settled."
"Thank you," her father said smoothly, stepping aside to take a call.
Perfect. Exactly the window she needed.
Mico entered the massive boardroom first, her sharp gaze sweeping over the space. It was luxurious but sterile. Long oval table, leather chairs arranged with mathematical precision, screens mounted on every wall, and a central projector waiting to be activated. Cameras were perched in the corners, but she already knew where their blind spots were.
Time to work.
She walked casually along the table, fingertips brushing the polished surface like she was admiring it. Her pace was unhurried, her expression neutral. When she reached the far corner where the security camera's view cut off, her hand slipped into her pocket.
The device was small, black, no bigger than a matchbox. She crouched, adjusting her shoe strap for show, and slid the device neatly into place behind the leg of the cabinet. A faint green light blinked once before vanishing.
Step one, complete.
Next, she strolled toward the central console. A few taps on her phone synced with the console's interface. She connected the planted device to the main projector system, redirecting the feed without raising a single security flag.
Her phone vibrated in confirmation. The device was live. Whatever happened in that garage, every trembling heartbeat of Joshua Travich's downfall would play on this screen.
Mico smirked faintly. Perfect.
Footsteps approached. She straightened, pocketed her phone, and turned away from the console with the calm grace of someone who had just been admiring the tech. By the time the first board members entered, she was already seated, legs crossed, posture perfect, nothing but the picture of innocence.
The trap was set.
Outside, her father ended his call and joined her at the table. "All good?" he asked without looking at her.
Mico smiled lightly, eyes never leaving the center of the room.
"Better than good," she said.
_________________________________
Back in the garage…
"Are you alright?" Yanin awkwardly walked up to Celestia, patting her back.
"Yeah, just a little disgusted." Celestia replied back. She cleansed her mouth with water after throwing up.
"A little is an understatement." Yanin muttered. She fidgeted her hands nervously.
Celestia froze for a sec before laughing.
"Hah, guess so. I took one for the team~ Ya'll better be grateful." She said with a light smile.
Yanin readily agreed. "Yeah, I could've never pulled that off."
Yanin pulled a piece of candy out from her robe.
"Here." She averted her eyes, her hand out awkwardly.
Celestia smiled and took the sweet. "Thank you." She bit into it, the sweetness overpowering the vomit.
"Uh, no problem." Yanin returned her gaze.
Celestia's eyes softened. She poked Yanin's cheek gently.
"You're adorable."
"I-I'm what?" Instead of getting an answer, Celestia grabbed Yanin's hand and took her back to the group.
"Come on! We've wasted enough time" She shouted playfully.
Axel was begrudgingly making small talk with the rest of the group. He didn't want to, but it would be rude not to.
Then, he felt a buzz in his right pocket. He pulled out his phone, revealing a message from the Ravenveil group chat.
Mico: |I've placed the communication device. Meeting starts in 10 minutes. Prepare|
The group put back on their mask. Celestia positioned the device in front of Joshua who was still knocked out.
"What do we do now?" Yanin questioned.
"Well, we beat the shit out of him live" One of the male members answered.
Celestia smirked. "Exactly. Guys, if you press on the button on the right of your mask, like so." Celestia pressed it.
"It distorts your voice." Her pleasant, feminine voice shifted to a more deeper, scratchy one.
Everyone pressed on the button.
"Now we wait"
_________________________________
The meeting began with the usual monotony. Men in tailored suits exchanged meaningless pleasantries, women in sharp blazers flipped through papers they already knew by heart. The air was thick with the smell of expensive cologne and self-importance.
Mico sat silently beside her father, her posture flawless, her expression one of polite boredom. Inside, however, she was counting the seconds. Every word that droned out of the CEO's mouth was just white noise. The only thing she paid attention to was the big screen at the front of the room that was currently displaying financial projections and graphs no one truly cared about.
Five minutes…
She crossed her legs and glanced down at her phone under the table. A single message blinked back at her from the Ravenveil group chat.
Celestia: |Ready on our end. Give the signal when the screen flips.|
Mico's lips curved faintly, a smile no one noticed. She typed two words back:
Mico: |Do it.|
Back in the garage, the tension was a live wire. Everyone stood in their positions, masks on, voices distorted. Joshua Travich was stirring, groaning as he regained consciousness, only to find his wrists bound and his body pinned to the cold floor.
His eyes snapped open, confusion giving way to rage. "What the hell?! Do you know who I am?! Untie me right now, or—"
The first kick silenced him mid-sentence. One of the masked members drove a boot into his ribs with enough force to make the sound echo against the concrete walls. Joshua coughed violently, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.
"Shut him up," Celestia's distorted voice ordered.
Yanin crouched down, gripping his jaw with a cold grip, forcing him to look at her through the hollow, unfeeling eyes of her mask. "You've spent your life thinking you're untouchable. You're not."
Joshua spat at her mask, rage trembling through his voice. "You'll regret this. All of you—"
Axel's fist connected with his stomach, knocking the air out of him. "You talk too much," Axel said flatly, his voice a distorted growl.
Every strike was deliberate, every movement timed with precision. The crew worked like predators, circling their prey, not killing but making him suffer. Joshua screamed, shouted threats, begged, and finally whimpered as blow after blow landed on his already bruised body.
Celestia knelt beside him, tilting her head as if mocking sympathy. "Smile for the camera, Joshua."
A small red light blinked on the device placed in front of him, transmitting every moment directly to the Longhorn boardroom.
_________________________________
Back at the meeting, the screen flickered.
The room full of elites fell silent. At first, they thought it was a technical glitch. Then the graphs vanished, replaced by a grainy video feed.
The image sharpened.
Joshua Travich, their precious heir, was on the floor, bound, gagged, and bleeding.
Gasps erupted. Chairs scraped against the floor. Rolan Travich shot up from his seat, his face draining of color. "What the hell is this?!" he roared, his voice shaking with a mix of fear and rage.
No one answered.
Instead, the distorted voices of the masked figures filled the room.
"People like you think you're gods. That you can take and take and never pay the price," one voice snarled.
Joshua cried out as another kick landed, the sound making the board members flinch.
"Watch closely," Celestia's voice cut through the chaos, smooth yet dripping with venom. "This is what justice looks like."
The masked figures loomed over Joshua, their shadows stretching like monsters across the screen.
And in that moment, the untouchable empire of Longhorn Insurance felt its first real crack.