Chapter 131: Terror

The staff came back, skating quickly to where Miles steadied Hope and Asher.

Miles glanced up. “Yes? What’s the problem?”

The young man hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Boss… they’re requesting a private rink as well. But all our smaller rinks are already occupied.”

Miles’s eyes flicked toward the glass wall again — at the man and the little girl. He nodded slowly.

“Ask them,” Miles said, “if they’d be comfortable sharing this rink with us.”

“Alright, boss.” The staff member bowed slightly, then hurried back toward the door.

Behind Miles, two of the staff whispered as they leaned against the rail. Their voices carried just enough to reach his ears.

“Poor girl,” one said softly.

“I feel bad for her,” the other replied.

Miles didn’t turn, didn’t break stride, but the words settled in his chest. He looked again at the man outside.

The man had already turned toward him. Their eyes met through the glass. A polite smile tugged at the man’s lips — a small gesture of thanks

Miles gave a faint nod. He understood.

“Big bro,” Asher piped up, tugging at his sleeve. “Who are they?”

Miles crouched slightly, still holding Hope upright on the ice. “Looks like you two are about to make a new friend.”

Hope gasped, grinning. “I love making new friends! I have about…” She raised her mittened hands and spread her fingers wide, showing ten. “…this many already.”

Miles ruffled her hair, smirking.

The gate opened. The staff ushered the man and the little girl in.

The man stepped forward, adjusting his coat as he extended a hand. “Hello. I’m Liam Rodriguez, Managing Director at Venus Foods. Thank you for sharing your rink with us. I hope we’re not disturbing.”

Miles shook his hand firmly. “Not at all, Mr. Rodriguez. I’m Miles.”

Liam smiled, then glanced down. “And this is my daughter, Stella. I promised her ice skating today, but I forgot to reserve a rink. I didn’t want to risk the common rink — too crowded, too dangerous for her size.”

Miles nodded. “It’s fine. This space is big enough.”

Hope tugged on Miles’s arm, brimming with energy. She shuffled forward, pulling Asher along until they stood in front of Liam and the little girl.

“Hello!” Hope chirped. “I’m Hope, and this is my brother Asher. What’s your name?”

The girl stepped half-hiding behind Liam’s arm before peeking out. Her voice was small but steady. “I’m Stella.”

Asher gave a sharp nod, smiling. “Hi, Stella! Let’s skate together.

Stella’s lips curved shyly. “…Okay.”

Hope spun toward the staff. “Sister, please give our new friend her skates!”

The staff member chuckled. “Of course, young miss.” They knelt beside Stella, gently helping her into a pair of white skates, lacing them firm.

Hope bounced on her blades, impatient to get started. Asher held the railing for balance but kept his eyes on Stella, already eager.

Meanwhile, Miles and Liam stood back, watching.

“Your kids are very jolly,” Liam said, smiling faintly.

Miles shook his head. “They’re not mine. My siblings.”

Liam blinked, surprised. “Oh — I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Miles’s gaze softened as it drifted back to the rink. Stella had pushed off the bench without hesitation, her small form already balanced better than the twins. She didn’t need much help.

“She knows what she’s doing,” Miles observed.

Liam exhaled through his nose, pride and sadness mixed in the sound. “Her mother was a professional ice hockey player. Played for Star Harbor City Club. Stella used to come here with her… while I buried myself in work. She picked up skating just by watching.” His voice dropped lower. “…Her mother passed away in an accident, a few months ago.”

Miles’s jaw tightened. He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Liam nodded once. “It’s alright. Skating… it’s the one thing that brings her joy now. Look at her. I haven’t seen her this happy at home in weeks. She doesn’t have many friends.”

Out on the ice, Stella laughed lightly as Hope stumbled into her arms. Instead of falling, the two clung together, spinning awkwardly but refusing to let go. Asher trailed behind, arms flailing, before crashing onto the ice with a dramatic groan. Stella bent down to help him up, smiling brightly. Hope clapped for her.

Miles’s eyes lingered. Then he spoke. “Why don’t you get her a coach in the academy here?

Liam frowned slightly. “She’s still a child. I don’t know if she wants that pressure.”

Miles shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be pressure. Twice a week. Consistent. Structure. It’ll help.”

Liam tilted his head, considering. “…Maybe. But I don’t know if there are other kids her age here.”

Miles turned to the rink entrance and raised a hand. “Call Mr. Arnaud.”

Half a minute later, Arnaud himself appeared, stepping briskly inside. “Hello, boss. Is there a problem?”

Miles shook his head. “No. Do you know him?”

“Yes, boss.” Arnaud gave a polite bow toward Liam. “Mr. Rodriguez.”

Liam inclined his head. “Mr. Arnaud.”

Miles spoke again. “Do we have kids Stella’s age in the academy?”

Arnaud nodded quickly. “Yes, boss. We have a few who skate daily.”

Miles turned to Liam. “If you wish, you can bring her here. Don’t worry about safety. We’ll look after her.”

Arnaud added warmly, “Mr. Rodriguez, I’ll personally see to it. Stella has talent — potential, like her mother. She’ll make friends quickly.”

Liam’s shoulders eased a little. “Thank you, Mr. Arnaud. And thank you, Mr. Miles. I’ll talk to her… then make the decision.”

Out on the ice, the twins skated in wide wobbles, Hope tugging Stella’s hand, Asher sliding behind, laughing every time he crashed. Stella giggled, cheeks flushed pink, the sound carrying across the cold air.

Time passed in easy laughter, the four children skating circles and collapsing into heaps before scrambling up again.

Finally, the rink session wound down. The staff guided Stella back to the benches, helping her remove her skates. Hope and Asher shuffled over, cheeks red, hair messy, smiles refusing to fade.

“Goodbye, Stella!” Hope said cheerfully, waving both arms.

“Bye!” Asher echoed, grinning.

Stella smiled, clutching her father’s hand. “…Goodbye.”

Hope nudged Asher. “She’ll be back, right?”

Miles ruffled both their heads, answering softly. “Yes. She’ll be back.”

The twins beamed, waving again as Stella and Liam left through the glass doors.

….

Somewhere in the closed doors-

The screen flickered into life. Dozens of faces appeared in neat little boxes, flags and seals hovering behind them. The atmosphere wasn’t just tense — it was brittle, the kind of silence before glass shatters.

The President of the United States leaned forward at the head of the panel, jaw tight. “Thank you for joining on such short notice. We all know why we’re here.”

The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom spoke first, voice sharp, clipped. “It is far too early to even consider her demands. There’s no proof her claims are genuine. There’s no way a woman on a livestream can simply… kill someone with words.” He shook his head. “We should allow investigations to continue before we dignify this madness.”

The President of Japan adjusted his glasses, nodding. “I agree. Her so-called ’demonstration’ is outrageous. No government can — or should — bend to threats broadcast on the internet. If we give in once, every lunatic with a camera will follow.”

The Russian President’s voice rumbled low, skeptical, cutting through the static. “Then tell me — what leads do we have? How could her ’weapon,’ or her assassin, enter a NATO-managed supermax prison? How could a dozen criminals drop dead simultaneously? What explanation do you offer?”

The camera cut to the NATO Secretary General. His expression was grim, lips pressed tight. “We are… investigating every angle. Thus far, there are no signs of infiltration. No breaches in our physical systems.” He hesitated. “…But the feed was authentic. Those men are dead.”

The silence stretched. Leaders shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

The U.S. President finally broke it. His voice was steady, but the weight behind it pressed on the room. “Our agencies are working around the clock. We will track her. We will find her. And we will end this.”

The French President leaned forward, brows knit. “And in the meantime? She demanded something of us. She gave a deadline. Do we ignore it and risk mass panic? Or worse — more killings, this time civilians?”

Murmurs rippled. The Canadian Prime Minister spoke quickly, almost too quickly. “If we appear weak, we lose everything. The stock markets are already in turmoil. Our people are frightened. But giving in to terrorists is unthinkable.”

“Unthinkable,” echoed Germany’s Chancellor, grim.

The Chinese Premier’s tone was colder. “This Atropos has shown capability, but not invincibility. Every weapon has a flaw. We should treat her as a threat, not a god.”

The debate swelled. Some voices called for calm investigation. Others demanded retaliation. Questions crashed over each other — What if she strikes again? What if she targets leaders? What if the broadcast was only the beginning?

Finally, order returned. A motion was raised.

The United States President’s voice carried finality. “We must be united. If we fracture, she wins before we fight. All in favor of rejecting her demands?”

Hands lifted. Screens blinked with raised votes. The majority carried.

But not everyone agreed.

On the lower row of boxes, the leaders of smaller nations hesitated. The Prime Minister of a struggling state shifted nervously. “With respect… our people cannot afford to be collateral. If she can strike at will, what happens when she chooses us? For you, it is defiance. For us, it could be extinction.”

Another small country’s president added, voice weary, “She asked for impossible things, yes. But if she proves herself again, if she kills innocents in our streets… our citizens will blame us for ignoring her.”

A ripple of unease cut through the larger powers. The divide was clear: giants refusing to bend, smaller nations afraid of being the ones who paid the price.

The President of the United States slammed his palm on the desk, voice rising. “We cannot yield. If we kneel now, the world kneels forever. Investigation continues. Our intelligence teams will find her. Until then — no concessions.”

The meeting ended on that note, the votes recorded, but the unease remained. As the screens blinked dark one by one, the silence that followed felt louder than the debate itself.

….

Citadel City — late afternoon.

Kyle Sterling lounged on a wide couch, the news playing on loop across the wall. Social threads scrolled in the corner of the screen — comments piling up like a tide: fear, outrage, disbelief, conspiracy. Headlines flashed and re-flashed: ATROPOS STRIKES, WORLD LEADERS RESPOND, DEMANDS UNKNOWN.

A woman curled against his side, warm and soft. Her head rested on his shoulder. She watched the screen, then looked at him.

“Do you think they’ll agree?” she asked, voice small. Genuine.

Kyle’s smile was slow. Not quite a smile — more a calculation that showed teeth. His hand found the small of her back and squeezed once, possessive.

“They will never agree,” he said. Quiet. Certain. “And I don’t want them to.”

She frowned, confused. “You don’t?”

“No.” He laughed then — a short, pleased sound. “Listen to me. Right now, the terror is limited. Some criminals died. Gruesome. But civilians? Not yet. That’s contained. Scary, yes — but contained.” He turned and watched his own face on the wall for a moment: the masked woman’s smile frozen on the feed. He was watching his own performance watching the world.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice sharpening. “After the deadline — if they don’t give in — innocent people will die. Streets will go red in places that can’t hide it. Hospitals packed. Buses, markets, schools. Governments will be forced to answer for their choices.” He tapped a finger on the armrest, deliberate. “That will be the real terro

r. Not what I showed them. The scream that follows when authority fails.”

And the terror will bend them in their knees , and then even bigger demands will be accepted..

Kyle let an evil laugh.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep