The shrill ring of an encrypted phone cut through the silence of the private bathroom.
Vendetta remained motionless beneath the steaming water, her thoughts still trapped on Mount Apo. No matter how hard she tried to push the memory away, Deicya's towering figure lingered in her mind. Wrapped in an obsidian cloak, the man had lied to her without the slightest hesitation—about his identity, his abilities, everything.
Her jaw tightened.
Without realizing it, her fingers dug into the porcelain rim of the bathtub.
Crack.
The sharp sound echoed through the room.
Vendetta lowered her gaze. A spiderweb of fractures spread beneath her hand.
"…Wonderful."
The phone continued to ring.
She ignored it for another moment, finishing her bath before rising from the water. Wrapping a towel around herself, she stepped into the hallway just as one of her personal maids passed by.
"Please have someone replace the bathtub," Vendetta said calmly.
The maid blinked at the shattered porcelain visible through the open doorway before bowing.
"At once, Commander."
As Vendetta entered her room, the encrypted phone rang again.
She let out a quiet sigh, picked up the device from the glass table, and answered.
"Commander Vendetta."
The voice of the VHB President's assistant came through the speaker, formal and urgent.
"My apologies for the short notice, but your presence is required immediately at the central headquarters. A high-level executive assembly has been called."
Vendetta's expression hardened.
"What is the meeting about?"
"I'm afraid that information is restricted. Under security protocol, you are ordered to report directly to the main conference hall. As Vice Captain of the Patrol Force, you will oversee the security of the assembly."
"I understand."
The call ended.
Within minutes, Vendetta had exchanged her towel for her formal military uniform. She secured the last button of her coat, holstered her sidearm, and headed straight for the garage.
The drive through Davao's mist-covered streets was uneventful.
Towering above the surrounding skyline, the circular headquarters of the Vessel Hunters Bureau soon came into view. Its sweeping glass façade reflected the gray morning sky, giving the building an imposing, fortress-like presence.
Vendetta parked, stepped from her vehicle, and crossed the entrance plaza. The rhythmic clicks of her boots echoed through the vast marble corridors as Bureau personnel instinctively stepped aside.
She arrived outside the executive conference room ten minutes ahead of schedule.
Without hesitation, she pushed open the heavy glass doors.
The first person she saw was Jasro Soledad.
He sat confidently near the center of the executive table, reviewing a stack of classified documents.
Vendetta's crimson eyes narrowed.
Disgust flickered across her face before disappearing beneath her usual cold expression.
According to Bureau protocol, the Vice Captain held no voting authority during executive assemblies. Her responsibility was limited to maintaining security and observing the proceedings while the Captain represented the Patrol Force before the nation's leadership.
She silently took her assigned position beside the wall.
One after another, directors, cabinet officials, military advisers, and regional representatives entered the room.
As the final participant took their seat, the digital clock reached the appointed hour.
The meeting began.
An uneasy silence settled over the conference hall, the weight of national survival hanging over every person in attendance.
Jasro rose from his chair.
"As Captain of the Patrol Force," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room, "my duty has always been to ensure the safety of this nation and its people."
Vendetta resisted the urge to scoff.
Safety.
The word alone was enough to sour her mood.
No one embodied hypocrisy better than Jasro Soledad.
Unaware—or perhaps simply unconcerned—by her reaction, Jasro continued.
"This morning, the United States of America submitted an official proposal to the Republic of the Philippines."
The room stirred.
Several directors exchanged puzzled glances.
"A proposal?" one of them asked.
Jasro nodded.
"The United States wishes to establish a strategic merger between our two nations."
The murmurs grew louder.
"In exchange for military cooperation," he continued, "the United States is prepared to provide nationwide protection, economic assistance, food security, and access to its accumulated resources."
He allowed the words to settle before continuing.
"If accepted, the Philippines would no longer stand alone against the Crystal Core disasters. Our borders would fall under the protection of the world's strongest military power."
A hesitant director slowly raised his hand.
"I don't believe it's that simple."
Jasro smiled politely.
"Every agreement carries risk," he admitted. "But consider our current position. Our economy is weakening. Monster incidents continue to rise. This proposal offers stability—something our people desperately need."
Around the room, several officials nodded in reluctant agreement.
Vendetta remained silent.
Safety.
Wealth.
Protection.
None of it made sense.
Nothing in this new world came without a price.
Then it struck her.
The United States possessed two of the world's five S-Rank Vessel Hunters.
A nation with that much military power had no reason to rescue a struggling country out of compassion alone.
They wanted something.
Unable to remain silent any longer, Vendetta spoke.
"They're not doing this out of goodwill."
Her voice cut cleanly through the room.
Every head turned.
"The United States wants something from us."
Silence followed.
She met Jasro's gaze without hesitation.
"No nation offers this much without demanding something even more valuable in return."
A quiet murmur spread throughout the conference room.
Several directors slowly nodded.
One elderly official leaned forward.
"Commander Soledad raises a fair point."
He looked directly at Jasro.
"What exactly are they asking from us?"
For the first time since the meeting began, Jasro's smile faded.
He turned toward Vendetta, meeting her stare.
Then he calmly opened the classified folder before him.
"According to the proposal," he said, "the United States requests that the Philippines deploy its active A-Rank and B-Rank Vessel Hunters to reinforce American territory."
The room fell silent.
"In return," Jasro continued, "those hunters will receive exceptional salaries, while the Philippine government will receive military assistance and economic support."
He paused before delivering the final condition.
"If a catastrophic Crystal Core incident occurs within Philippine territory, the United States guarantees the temporary deployment of one of its S-Rank Vessel Hunters."
For a brief moment…
No one spoke.
The conference room erupted into heated debate.
Some directors quietly nodded, recognizing the military value behind the proposal. Others exchanged uneasy glances, their silence betraying their doubts. Three regional directors leaned back in their chairs, unwilling to cast a vote.
Vendetta remained still.
The truth behind the proposal settled heavily in her chest.
It was never an alliance.
It was a transaction.
She pushed away from the wall and took a single step forward.
Every conversation in the room came to an abrupt halt.
"Do you truly believe this is a partnership?" she asked, her voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the silence.
Her crimson eyes locked onto Jasro.
"Because all I see is modern slavery."
The room froze.
"We're sending our strongest people overseas to fight someone else's wars while calling it cooperation."
Jasro met her gaze without the slightest sign of discomfort.
He calmly adjusted the sleeve of his uniform before opening the proposal once more.
"There is one final condition," he said.
The directors immediately fell silent.
"The agreement includes an exclusivity clause."
He looked around the room, ensuring everyone understood.
"All A-Rank and B-Rank Vessel Hunters assigned under this agreement will operate exclusively under the command of the United States. No foreign nation may recruit, employ, or negotiate for their service."
A murmur swept across the table.
"C-Rank hunters and below are exempt from this restriction," Jasro continued. "They remain free to accept private contracts or overseas employment."
No one spoke.
The meaning was painfully clear.
This wasn't simply military cooperation.
America wasn't asking to borrow the Philippines' strongest hunters.
They were claiming them.
A suffocating silence settled over the room.
One by one, the directors lowered their heads.
The arguments disappeared.
What remained was resignation.
They were no longer debating a political agreement.
They were deciding whether to surrender a piece of their nation's future in exchange for survival.
Reject the proposal…
and the Philippines would stand alone against the Crystal Core disasters.
Accept it…
and their finest Vessel Hunters would spend their lives fighting beneath another nation's flag.
Neither choice felt like victory.
The room fell silent enough that even the ticking wall clock seemed loud.
Then—
"Commander Jasro."
President President Alonzo Reyes's voice broke the silence.
Every eye turned toward him.
He leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the table.
"I have five questions."
Jasro gave a respectful nod.
"I'm listening, Mr. President."
"The first."
The President's gaze remained steady.
"How do you intend to convince our A-Rank and B-Rank Vessel Hunters to accept this? If they refuse… are we prepared for the consequences?"
"They have little room to refuse," Jasro answered without hesitation.
"Compared to the world's elite hunters, our A and B-Ranks remain relatively weak. A limited number will remain behind to protect each region, but the rest will be deployed under government authority."
Several directors frowned.
The President remained expressionless.
"My second question."
"What exactly are we receiving in return besides military protection?"
"Economic security," Jasro replied.
"Guaranteed food supplies. Employment opportunities within the United States. Financial aid. If our nation suffers a catastrophic Crystal Core incident, an S-Rank Vessel Hunter will be dispatched to assist us."
He smiled faintly.
"I believe it's an extraordinary offer."
Across the room, Vendetta clicked her tongue.
"Tsk."
She didn't bother hiding her disgust.
Ignoring her, Jasro continued.
"C-Rank hunters and below remain unaffected. They may continue accepting contracts overseas or remain here in the Philippines."
"The fourth question?"
"They require our decision immediately."
The President gave a slow nod.
"And the last."
He folded his hands.
"Why us?"
Jasro hesitated for the first time.
"They believe the Philippines is the least capable of recovering independently."
His voice grew quieter.
"Other nations still possess the resources to rebuild."
He looked directly at the President.
"But outside of Davao… our country's recovery has fallen behind."
Silence settled over the conference room once again.
No one challenged his answer.
President Reyes leaned back in his chair, saying nothing as he weighed every consequence.
Around the table, the directors exchanged weary glances.
One after another…
Heads slowly nodded.
The proposal passed.
Thousands of kilometers away, inside the United States Vessel Hunter Bureau, a secretary hurried into a heavily secured office.
"Sir."
He saluted.
"The Philippine executive assembly has officially begun deliberating our proposal."
The office remained dark.
Only the faint outline of a man seated behind an enormous desk could be seen.
A smile slowly formed across his face.
"Excellent."
His voice was almost a whisper.
"Everything is proceeding exactly as planned."
"You're dismissed."
"Yes, Mr. Zores."
The secretary bowed and quietly left the room.
Alone in the darkness, Zores watched the city lights beyond the glass wall, his smile never fading.