Chapter 302: Chapter 302

I stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind me with a soft click. No rewards? What the actual fuck?

Villain reputation had its perks, sure, but getting zero rewards just because I’d told Kim I loved her? That stung. It felt… bullshit. Did that mean the only way to level up was to treat women like disposable objects? Have sex with them like how I did with Carrie? No way.

╭────────────────────╮

Villain Reputation Notice

==========================

• Villain Reputation rewards actions

tied to domination, emotional control,

or superiority.

==========================

• Acts of care, affection, or emotional

bonding do not grant Villain bonuses

and lowers Sexual Activity rewards.

==========================

• Lowering reputation tier

(Villain → Enemy) removes this penalty.

╰────────────────────╯

“Shiiit,” I muttered, crossing the room to my wardrobe. “I need to rack up some good points fast and ditch this villain crap.”

At least the penalty seemed tied only to the Villain rank. If I could grind my way up just one level—to Enemy—I’d be in the clear. The reputation ladder went from worst to best: Villain, Enemy, Bad, Neutral, Good, Big-Hearted, Hero.

I paused, staring at my clothes. What would happen if I ever hit Hero? Probably the reverse penalty—no EXP for being an asshole. Made sense, in a twisted way.

Then there was that skill: Hypnotize. It didn’t take a genius to figure out its… intended uses. But no chance in hell was I touching it. That would be straight-up violation. Like rape.

“Jesus,” I whispered. “That skill is disgusting.”

“Mm. No.”

The voice chirped from behind me, light and teasing. I jumped, heart slamming into my ribs, and whipped around.

There she was—Dierella—perched on the edge of my bed, legs swinging lazily like a bored child.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head, and turned back to the wardrobe, yanking it open. “Hmm…”

“If you ever used that skill for… those kinds of things,” she continued, her tone casual, “you’d be the second man whose dick ends up in my tummy.”

She smacked her flat stomach loudly for emphasis, smirking.

“I’m not—”

“A person like that. I know.” She cut me off smoothly. “I actually kind of like you, Henrik. Now I get why Karamine was so interested.”

“I’m just an average guy,” I said, rummaging for a clean shirt.

Suddenly, a head poked out from between the hanging clothes—her head. That same smirk widened as she stepped fully into the wardrobe like it was a doorway, emerging right in front of me.

I stumbled back in shock, fear prickling my skin, until my back hit the wall. Damn it. This woman appeared wherever the hell she wanted.

“You’re being humble now,” she said, tilting her head. “You’re by far the greatest subject I’ve—”

“I met the other goddesses,” I interrupted, pulse still racing. “Miko, Mana… there was someone else, too.”

“Met them, huh?”

“Yeah. And I asked if they knew a woman with an umbrella.” I met her eyes. “They panicked, Dierella. Totally lost it.”

She sighed, almost fondly exasperated. “You gotta stop prying into godhood stuff, mortal. You’re overly curious for no good reason.”

“Look—”

I blinked.

She was gone.

I gritted my teeth, shook my head, and pushed off the wall, returning to the wardrobe. She was right—I had no business meddling in their affairs.

But my gut wouldn’t let it go. Something was off about that umbrella woman. She had to be a goddess, or something like one. And if she was… why keep invading my dreams? A warning? A threat? I didn’t know.

My head was a complete mess. I stared at the empty space for a second, then continued getting dressed.

Dark slacks, fitted shirt, jacket neat and serious. Board meeting ready.

Then I left the bedroom.

Minne was in the dining area setting the table carefully. She smiled when she saw me. “Good morning, Master. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”

“Thanks, honey,” I said. “But I need to head to work early.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

Nala stepped in from the balcony, phone in hand. “Yes, Marcus. We are on our way. Thank you.”

“Morning, Nala.”

She ended the call and looked at me. “Hey, Morning. Come on, Evan. They want you at the meeting.”

“But breakfast,” Minne said hesitantly.

“Sorry,” Nala replied. “It is important.”

I smiled at Minne. “Take the day off. Go visit your mother.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“O-okay, Master. Thank you.”

❤︎❤︎❤︎

I leaned back in my chair and folded my hands over the folder in front of me, eyes down as if I were reviewing numbers. Victor Hale sat to my left, scrolling through his phone with one leg crossed over the other. Elena sat beside him, posture straight, tablet already open. Across the long rectangular table, Marcus Hale leaned back with his arms crossed, jaw tight as usual. Sarah Lin sat to his right, calm and composed, while Dr. Raj Patel quietly arranged his notes. Harold Weiss occupied the far side, fingers steepled, eyes sharp. Nala sat at the opposite end, calm but clearly in control of the room.

The only empty chair belonged to Lydia Chen.

Marcus checked his watch. “Where is she? This meeting was scheduled weeks ago.”

“She called,” Nala replied evenly. “Flat tire. She is on her way.”

Marcus scoffed. “Unacceptable.”

As if on cue, the door swung open.

Lydia Chen rushed in, dropped her bag by the chair, and planted both palms on the table while catching her breath. Her bun was loose, glasses slightly crooked.

“I’m here,” she said. “I’m not late.”

Marcus sighed. “Sit down. We do not need guests seeing us like this.”

Lydia shot him a glare but took her seat.

Nala nodded once. “Alright. Let’s be civil, now.”

I finally looked up. “Hey,” I said, “can someone explain why I am here? I know all of you, but I do not even know half your departments.”

Marcus glanced at me. “The investor specifically requested your presence.”

“I do not even know who the investor is.”

“You will,” Victor said quietly.

“I’m just saying that—”

Just as I was about to finish my sentence… she walked in. Anotta. Damn it. She was the investor for Project Phoenix, right? I thought we’d already handed the project off to her—so why was she here now? Then again, I could guess the answer. She probably had no clue what to do with it.

She was dressed sharp, dark blazer, confident posture, eyes scanning the room. The shift in atmosphere was immediate. Chairs straightened. Phones vanished. Even Marcus adjusted his posture.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning,” the room echoed back.

Anotta took the empty seat beside me, placed her tablet neatly on the table, and folded her hands. Her gaze moved once around the room before settling on Nala. “Let’s not waste time. I’m here regarding Project Phoenix.”

Nala nodded and slid a thin tablet across the table toward her. “This contains our latest projections, stress-test simulations, and market forecasts. I’ll summarize, but the data is there if you want specifics.”

Anotta picked it up, scrolling as Nala spoke.

“As you already know, Project Phoenix is our next-generation adaptive AI defense system,” Nala continued. “The primary market is residential security, but the architecture was intentionally built to scale beyond that.”

Dr. Patel leaned forward slightly. “Unlike traditional home security systems, Phoenix does not operate on static rules. It uses predictive behavioral modeling. The system learns household routines over time, establishes behavioral baselines, and flags deviations with context awareness rather than raw triggers.”

Elena tapped her tablet, projecting a rotating schematic onto the screen behind them. “Phoenix integrates with cameras, motion sensors, biometric access points, environmental monitors, and smart infrastructure. The difference is that it does not simply alert the user or authorities. The AI is capable of initiating predefined response protocols.”

Anotta’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Define response.”

Victor answered. “Lockdowns at the residential level. Smart-door isolation. Vehicle immobilization when integrated with compatible systems. Automated emergency escalation. All civilian-grade responses are non-lethal and compliant with current regulations.”

“And if regulations change,” Sarah added calmly, “the system can be adapted upward. Fleet security, private infrastructure, corporate campuses, and eventually military applications if contracts and legal frameworks allow.”

Anotta paused her scrolling. “That kind of scalability invites scrutiny. What about false positives?”

Dr. Patel nodded, clearly anticipating the question. “We anticipated that concern early. Phoenix continuously recalibrates confidence thresholds. It cross-references sensor data rather than acting on isolated inputs. False-positive rates in our simulations are below one percent after the learning phase.”

Nala added, “And every action taken by the system is logged, auditable, and reversible within defined windows.”

Anotta leaned back slightly. “Your proposal mentions profit sharing.”

“Yes,” Nala said. “You would fund Phase Two development and limited deployment. In return, you receive a percentage cut from all Phoenix-based products across residential and automotive markets.”

“And governance,” Anotta said. “I don’t fund black boxes.”

“Limited oversight,” Harold replied. “Strategic input, quarterly reviews, and veto power on expansion vectors. No operational control over day-to-day development.”

Anotta nodded once and scrolled again. “Your projections assume rapid adoption.”

“They’re conservative,” Nala replied. “These models factor in gradual rollout, regional testing, and delayed regulatory approvals. Even in the worst-case scenario, Phoenix breaks even within thirty months.”

Anotta’s gaze shifted, briefly landing on me. “You’ve been quiet.”

I straightened slightly. “Honestly, most of this is above my technical pay grade.”

A few amused looks flickered around the table.

She set the tablet down. The room stayed quiet, waiting.

Anotta tapped the edge of her tablet once. “How far along are you, really?”

Nala did not hesitate. “Ten percent.”

A few eyebrows lifted around the table.

“Ten?” Anotta repeated. “That’s honesty. I respect it. What’s your timeline?”

“One year for full deployment,” Nala said. “Six months if everything aligns perfectly. Talent acquisition, regulatory clearance, hardware optimization. No major disruptions.”

Anotta leaned back slightly, studying her. “Can you do it in less than six?”

The room went still.

Nala met her gaze without flinching. “We could rush it,” she said evenly. “Cut validation cycles. Compress testing phases. Push updates post-launch.”

“And?”

“And then it wouldn’t be Phoenix,” Nala continued. “It would be another rushed system waiting to fail under pressure. Perfection needs time. Especially when safety is the product.”

For a moment, Anotta said nothing.

Then she smiled, slow and sharp. “Good answer.”

Nala nodded with a smirk. “I know.”

“This is solid,” she said at last. “Clean vision. Controlled ambition. You’re not chasing spectacle, you’re building infrastructure.” She turned to Nala. “You left a positive mark on me.”

Nala inclined her head. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ll move forward with the investment,” Anotta continued. “We’ll finalize terms within the week. Legal will coordinate with yours. Phase Two funding will be released in tranches tied to milestones.”

“What even half of these words…” I whispered to myself.

Anotta stood, gathering her tablet. “I expect results.”

“You’ll get them,” Nala said.

Anotta gave a small nod and exited the room.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Nala exhaled quietly. “Meeting adjourned.”

As chairs shifted and low conversations resumed, I leaned back in my seat.

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