POV: Kaelin
The clinic walls were an inadequate shield.
The defeat in the Sunken Archipelago had not merely injured Sullivan; it had compromised their entire operation.
The captured Manipulators, Rellis and Torvin, were dead—silenced by a coordinated assassination just hours after their capture, likely by the same organization that had hired them.
Their crucial stolen technology, the Bio-Engine Matrix, remained unsecured and in the hands of the larger network.
Kaelin watched Sullivan—pale, scarred, and still confined to Zetsu—complete the final entry in his analysis ledger. His 20\% Defense attribute had saved his life, but his rookie mistake in allocating 40\% Strength against an Emission ability meant they had nothing to show for their near-death encounter.
They were low on funds, running on borrowed time, and hunting a phantom organization.
"We need leverage," Sullivan stated, snapping the ledger shut. His voice was steady, but Kaelin saw the strain in his eyes. "The organization is utilizing high-grade Transmuters and Manipulators. Our next move cannot be a brute-force assault. It must be an acquisition of strategic debt."
"You mean Lady Seraph," Kaelin said, her voice flat. She already knew the answer.
Lady Seraph was a notorious B-Rank Hunter—a specialist in high-value asset retrieval and sabotage.
Her Hatsu was a specialized Transmutation ability that allowed her to turn her aura into hyper-cooled, pressurized vapor, granting her devastating speed and freezing capabilities. Seraph operated under a single, inflexible code: payment is taken in kind, not currency. She dealt in secrets, favors, and crippling, future-defining debts.
"She controls the information pathways in this sector of the continent," Sullivan confirmed. "She will know the location and defenses of the organization's primary asset. We need her, but we must negotiate the price without crippling our future capacity."
Kaelin nodded, placing her hand on the hilt of her rapier. Her own conviction was built on a foundation of ruthless discipline, mirroring Sullivan's analytical mind but manifesting through pure, physical precision.
"You speak to her. I secure the perimeter," Kaelin instructed. "She will test us. You handle the mind game; I handle the inevitable physical probe."
The Transmuter's Price
Lady Seraph's headquarters was an antique, copper-domed tower that rose incongruously from the center of a bustling financial district—a visual metaphor for her influence over both the shadows and the light.
Seraph waited for them in a minimalist penthouse bathed in cool, blue light. She was striking: sharp, intelligent, and clad in tailored silks that shimmered with an almost invisible layer of Nen—her passive Ten was immaculate.
"Sullivan Morteuxe," Seraph purred, without rising. Her voice was like the sound of ice cracking. "The child who nearly burned himself to death in the Sunken Archipelago by committing 40\% Strength against a non-physical barrier. And Kaelin. The silent anchor."
Seraph's eyes locked onto Kaelin. "You are the interesting one. A highly capable Manipulator posing as a simple Enhancer. A dangerous misdirection."
Sullivan ignored the insult and cut directly to the transaction. "We require the location and defensive schematics of the Epsilon Asset Base—the organization holding the Bio-Engine Matrix. We will trade a future favor of equivalent strategic value, guaranteed by the Morteuxe name."
Seraph laughed, a sound entirely without warmth. "The Morteuxe name is debt in the Basin, not currency here. And I do not deal in favors. I deal in purity of ambition."
She directed her gaze back to Kaelin. "I know your file, Kaelin. You were found in the Cinder Basin's underbelly, an orphan with nothing but a desire for absolute, clean order. You saw the world as a mess that needed cleaning. That psychological commitment defined your Nen."
Kaelin stiffened, her hand tightening around her rapier.
"My price," Seraph announced, leaning forward, "is not Morteuxe's future debt. It is Kaelin's Hatsu. I want a demonstration of your ultimate ability, followed by a permanent Restriction I will impose upon your power, binding you to my will for three critical missions of my choosing. Fail, and the Restriction will neutralize your Nen forever."
Sullivan felt a spike of cold fury. This was not a negotiation; it was intellectual extortion. Kaelin's Hatsu was her life force.
"Unacceptable," Sullivan stated immediately, his voice low, despite his lack of Nen.
Kaelin raised a hand, stopping him. "I accept the terms. But the demonstration is the physical price. You will not impose a Restriction unless you are satisfied by the power."
Seraph smiled—a genuinely predatory expression. "Very well. Demonstrate your Precision."
The Aura of Order
Kaelin stepped into the center of the room. She closed her eyes, and the shift in her aura was immediate and profound. It wasn't the volatile heat of Sullivan's Specialization or the cold pressure of Seraph's Transmutation. Kaelin's Nen felt like a high-tension wire—clean, sharp, and intensely focused.
"My ability is called Cranial Command," Kaelin stated, her eyes now open, burning with crimson light. "I am a Manipulator. My goal is to impose perfect order on systems.
This Hatsu allows me to infuse my aura into a target's brain tissue, allowing me to command their motor control and sensory perception with absolute precision."
She aimed her hand at a priceless, antique gyroscope rotating slowly on a stand thirty feet away. She didn't touch it. She didn't blast it.
Kaelin applied her Nen—a fine, invisible filament of Manipulation Aura—and subtly entered the delicate machinery. She wasn't controlling the gyroscope's external movement; she was controlling the molecular vibration within its core.
The gyroscope's humming ceased. It did not stop spinning; it continued to rotate at exactly the same speed, but its internal friction, its entropic decay, was neutralized. It became physically perfect—a total arrest of imperfection.
"I do not enhance or transmute," Kaelin explained, her voice rising with fierce pride. "I impose order. I remove friction. I eliminate error. I can make an artery stop pumping, or a muscle seize, with flawless, invisible precision. I am a machine designed to control other machines."
It was the perfect reflection of her background—an orphan from the slums, finding salvation only in the cruel, objective perfection of control.
Seraph's eyes widened with genuine awe. "Magnificent. Absolute, cold-blooded purity. The power to enforce structural perfection. I accept the demonstration."
The New Engine Allocation
Sullivan had watched the entire exchange, running calculations on both Kaelin's power and Seraph's intent. He was proud of Kaelin's ruthlessness, but terrified by the proposed Restriction.
He knew Seraph wouldn't demand a physical Restriction; she would demand a psychological one, designed to undermine Kaelin's core purpose.
Sullivan, still confined to Zetsu, had no active Nen, but he initiated a final, desperate tactical shift in his Mind—the only attribute functioning at 10\% outside of the King Engine.
He had to save Kaelin, and he had to do it by leveraging the true cost of his own power.
"Wait," Sullivan interrupted, his voice cutting the tension. He pushed himself upright on the bed, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder. "The trade is flawed. The debt is too great for the information alone."
"You are in no position to bargain, boy," Seraph hissed.
"I am always in a position to calculate the correct value," Sullivan retorted, his jade eyes cold and intense. "The value of Cranial Command is infinite. A Restriction would cost you an invaluable asset. My Hatsu, the King Engine, however, is the very definition of a controlled weakness. Its greatest power is only achieved through total self-sacrifice."
Sullivan continued, his voice taking on the analytical, arrogant tone that had defined his youth. "I will trade you the guaranteed activation of my Mind Specialist Mode on your final mission, ensuring your success through pure Psychokinesis. I will strip my entire Instinct allocation to zero—the raw, life-saving speed I need to survive—to achieve that power. That is a measurable, finite, catastrophic risk that guarantees your victory. It is the cost of my life, but it preserves Kaelin's ultimate ambition."
The air crackled. Sullivan was trading his only safety net—the raw speed of his Instinct—for Kaelin's freedom.
Seraph considered this. A guaranteed, high-level Specialist action with a zero-risk guarantee of success, secured by the life of a Morteuxe. It was a vicious, yet logical, trade.
"Accepted," Seraph said, finally rising. "I will take your Instinct for my final mission. If you fail to achieve the Mind Specialist Mode with zero Instinct, your Hunter License, and all Morteuxe assets, are forfeit to me."
Sullivan nodded, clutching his bandaged shoulder. He had saved Kaelin, but now he was committed to a future mission where any unexpected, sudden attack would be instantly fatal. He had traded his speed for her freedom—a painful, necessary trade that placed his very existence into the hands of cold, perfect calculation.