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Chapter 115 - The Birth of Mr. Beetle

I still had Sienna's head on my lap. Her eyelashes twitched slightly as though she were about to wake up, and her breathing was steady and slow.

I let out a sigh and ran my fingers through her hair. I whispered, "She really fainted."

Then Camille whistled softly. "Not every day you get hit with world-altering news like that."

Alexis repositioned her glasses while maintaining a piercing, analytical stare. "Let's go over this thoroughly before she wakes up and we have to explain it again. Are you saying that the government is divided?"

I nodded. "Right. From what Anthony told me, there are two factions within the government. One side wants me to become the next World President, while the other remains loyal to the current one."

Alexis narrowed her eyes. "And why exactly do they want you?"

I exhaled. "Because of my ability to hold multiple jobs."

Camille leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "But they don't know why you can, do they?"

I shook my head. "No. They just know I can switch between roles instantly. They don't realize it's because of my Jobmaster title."

She smirked. "Good. The less they know, the better."

"That doesn't explain why the other faction is trying to kill you," Alexis pointed out.

I gave a humorless chuckle. "Simple. The current World President has a job that corresponds to the position. If I take the seat, that means his job is gone."

Alexis leaned back. "So it's a battle of succession. They're trying to eliminate you before you can claim the position."

"Exactly." I frowned. "The trial. The Mars mission. All of it was an attempt to get rid of me. But…"

Camille raised an eyebrow. "But?"

I crossed my arms. "They still think the Masked Syndicate is a group. They don't realize it's just me."

She blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread across her face. "So they're running in circles, trying to figure out which 'members' of the Syndicate to eliminate, when in reality, it's all just one guy?"

"Pretty much."

Camille laughed. "God, that's hilarious."

Alexis, however, looked less amused. "That means they're misallocating their resources. The moment they realize it's you, alone…"

I nodded. "It'll get worse."

A brief silence fell over us, the weight of the situation pressing down.

Then, I spoke again. "There's also one wildcard in all of this."

"Who?"

"Mark."

Alexis furrowed her brows. "Mark? The former Mars Director? The one who knows who you are?"

"Exactly. He's a high-ranking officer. He could expose me at any moment. But for some reason… he hasn't."

Camille scoffed. "Maybe he wants to take you down himself."

"That's a possibility." I drummed my fingers on the couch. "Or perhaps he has his own plans."

Before we could contemplate it more, Sienna moved. A gentle moan slipped from her mouth as she opened her eyes to awaken.

"Ugh… what happened…?"

"You lost consciousness," Camille stated matter-of-factly.

Sienna sprang up abruptly, then grimaced and clutched her head. "I… I passed out?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "And honestly? Understandable reaction."

She looked at me, then at the others, before suddenly recalling what had been said before she blacked out.

Her face paled again. "The government wants you to be—"

"Yes," I cut in. "But let's not go through that again. We already broke it down."

She took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Alright… alright." Then she narrowed her eyes at me. "But why didn't you tell us earlier?"

I sighed. "Because I wanted to process it first. And because I…" I hesitated, then admitted, "I have a bad habit of trying to handle things alone."

Camille smirked. "Oh, we know."

Sienna crossed her arms. "That stops now."

Alexis adjusted her glasses again. "Agreed."

I raised my hands in surrender. "Fine, fine."

I glanced at the clock. The conversation had taken longer than I thought.

I stood up. "Sienna just woke up. She needs something to eat. I'll cook."

Instantly—

"NO."

Both Camille and Alexis shot up from their seats.

I blinked. "…What?"

Camille practically lunged forward. "New mask. It's ready. Come on, you have to see it." She grabbed my arm and pulled.

Meanwhile, Alexis was already moving towards the kitchen. "I'll handle the food. No offense, but we know what happens when you cook."

I scowled. "It's not that bad."

Camille smirked. "Try convincing Sienna. Her expertise in the kitchen is enough to overrule your words."

I groaned. "Fine."

She led me to her office, where I was welcomed by her tidy chaos. Her workspace was scattered with prototypes made of different materials, fabric swatches, and design plans.

She grabbed something from the table and hurled it at me impulsively. I found it simple to grasp.

A brand new mask.

I inspected it by flipping it around in my hands.

It was weightier and better reinforced than those I had previously. The surface had a metallic quality with rich, iridescent hues akin to those of a scarab or stag beetle, and its design mirrored the tough, segmented exoskeleton of a beetle.

"A beetle mask?" I mused.

Camille nodded. "This one's far more durable than your last ones. It shouldn't crack unless you're under immense pressure."

I traced my fingers over its surface. "How do you even get the materials for all these?"

She smirked and gestured to her computer. "Sponsors."

I leaned over, peering at her screen. Sure enough, hundreds of emails flooded her inbox—brand deals, material testing offers, research collaborations.

One email in particular caught my eye.

The interview request.

I frowned slightly. "This thing still bothers me."

"Relax," Camille said, waving a hand. "I've got it handled."

I exhaled, nodding. Then I slipped on the mask.

Mr. Beetle was born.

The fit was perfect, and—surprisingly—it didn't hinder my vision in the slightest. That was good news for my Boxing job.

Still… I had a thought.

"Would these masks be considered cheating?" I mused aloud.

Camille tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"If I used them during an actual match. Would I even be allowed to wear them?"

She snorted. "I mean, if you can convince them it's fashion, maybe."

I shook my head with a chuckle.

Then—

A noise from the kitchen.

I turned toward Camille. She shrugged. "Sounds like Alexis and Sienna need help."

I exhaled and pulled off the mask. "Let's go before they burn the place down."

Camille grinned. "Right, because I'm sure you'll be a massive help."

Together, we walked out to join them.

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