Chapter 65: Cybernetic Nest Part 1

Clang, clang!

In a space where flashes of light streaked, two shadows collided, moving so fast they were hard to follow with the eye.

The two figures clashed in one place, moved, and clashed again, repeating this sequence over and over.

At last, the sound of impact ceased, and one of the shadows was thrown back.

“Ugh!”

Amon rolled across the training ground.

The one responsible for his condition asked worriedly, “Are you alright?”

Amon nodded. “I’m fine, sir.”

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Not at all,” Amon replied, hiding the scrapes he had sustained.

However, the man, referred to as the Chief, didn’t miss the concealed injuries.

He approached Amon with exaggerated concern.

“If we leave this as it is, I’ll be fired by the Director!”

Amon gave a wry smile and extended his arm.

It wasn’t an entirely baseless concern.

In the past, when the Chief of Security had failed to control his strength, causing a fracture in Amon’s arm, Cassie had made an unforgettable comment:

[Tsk… This is a bit worrisome. Should I replace him now?]

Cassie claimed it was a joke, but to Amon, it sounded about 20% serious.

The Chief, towering at 3 meters tall, awkwardly opened the first-aid kit with gentle hands.

He retrieved an expensive restorative spray and applied it to Amon’s wounds.

To some, seeing someone as mighty as the Chief of Security fussing over Amon might have shattered their admiration for him.

But it couldn’t be helped.

After all, this was the future Chairman’s beloved.

To act indifferent in front of someone Cassie adored was not just bad workplace etiquette—it was practically a death wish.

Though the Chief was confident in his own strength, no individual, no matter how powerful, could comfortably live under the wrath of an entire megacorp.

So, it was natural for the newly appointed Chief of Security to tread carefully around Amon.

For similar reasons, others below the Chief’s rank, like the Bull Tanker and the Mute Sniper, also deferred to Amon.

At first, they found it awkward, but over time, they became indifferent to the Chief’s behavior.

Once Amon’s injuries healed, the Chief sighed in relief.

“Phew. Oh, right. About the results of our sparring earlier: it was excellent. You’ve almost caught up with my speed. I didn’t find any flaws in your technique.”

In this domain, Amon was now a match for the Chief of Security.

At this level, a real battle between the two would be competitive.

If the Chief let his guard down, Amon could place a blade to his throat.

Of course, in an actual fight, the Chief would reveal his hidden tricks and become stronger than in practice.

But by the same logic, Amon would also use his specialized equipment.

The conclusion? Amon was strong enough to pose a real threat to the Chief.

However, there was one aspect the Chief found lacking.

“Your strength…”

The Chief hesitated, glancing at Amon for his reaction.

He stopped himself from recommending augmentation surgery, knowing Amon’s peculiar aversion to it.

The Chief couldn’t understand it.

It wasn’t the medieval era anymore, and relying solely on physical training to get stronger was incredibly inefficient.

Every augmentation had its drawbacks, but those could be mitigated with complementary upgrades.

Cybernetic implants were vulnerable to EMPs, but magical inscriptions could offset that.

Genetic modifications could cause allergic reactions, but suppressants were available.

Magical inscriptions consumed a lot of mana and had poor durability, but mana capsules resolved those issues.

The Chief himself was fully augmented.

Amon’s approach baffled him.

Still, he had no choice but to respect it.

‘If that’s his wish, who am I to argue?’

After all, this was the future Chairman’s future husband.

Perhaps there was some unique family reason for his stance.

Clearing his thoughts, the Chief continued, “Your strength will develop gradually. Shall I provide you with a training regimen?”

“Please do,” Amon replied.

***

After finishing the sparring session and freshening up, Amon headed to see Cassie.

The moment he arrived, Cassie greeted him warmly, as if she had been waiting.

Her breasts bounced slightly within the plunging neckline of her dress.

While not quite at Sonia’s level, Cassie’s figure was still quite striking.

But that wasn’t her most captivating feature.

The slit of her dress revealed a glimpse of her underwear strap.

Amon quickly averted his gaze and focused on her face, feeling an inexplicable sense of guilt as their eyes met.

“You’re here?”

Cassie smiled seductively.

She poured water into a glass and set it in front of him.

As she leaned forward, Amon briefly caught sight of her cleavage.

‘White!’

He wouldn’t elaborate further out of respect for Cassie’s dignity.

After preparing a cup for herself, Cassie sat across from Amon.

When she crossed her legs, her signature thick thighs pressed together.

The position could have revealed more than just her underwear straps, but Cassie remained unfazed.

While Amon drank water to quench his thirst, Cassie sipped her tea, savoring its fragrance.

The conversation that followed was casual and routine, as it always was.

After his morning training, Amon usually spent the morning with Cassie, shared lunch, and then parted ways.

But today was a bit different.

After finishing their meal, Cassie stopped Amon just as he was about to leave.

“Can you stop by my office today?”

Amon readily agreed.

***

After their meal, the two returned to Cassie’s office.

Cassie opened a drawer and took out an envelope.

It caught Amon off guard since she hadn’t shown any sign of it earlier.

Cassie handed him the envelope and explained.

“I didn’t want to bring it up when you were exhausted from training. People tend to be more generous on a full stomach, you know? It’s even a known corporate strategy.”

Amon gave a wry smile.

Surprisingly, he didn’t feel tricked.

That’s how much he trusted Cassie.

Out of curiosity, he opened the envelope and began examining the documents.

Cassie continued, “Remember the dungeon you created? The ‘White Dawn.’”

Amon thought of the megacorp he had first dismantled.

Its name didn’t even come to mind anymore.

‘What was it called again? Hexen? Shizen?’

All he recalled was that it had been absorbed by the Three Dollar Group.

It wasn’t particularly important, so he pushed the thought aside and focused on Cassie.

She went on, “Even after the boss of White Dawn was defeated by an unknown entity, monsters continue to spawn from it—at least officially.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

The reaction of a dungeon after its boss was defeated varied depending on the dungeon’s origin.

For example, the dungeon Howling Darkness, which Amon’s party had obliterated, ceased spawning undead after the lich was exorcised and the controlling entity, Shaunlai, was absorbed into Cassie’s company.

Although mercenaries were now flocking to it in droves to claim the last remnants of its resources, it wasn’t a particularly important matter.

What mattered was that Cassie had brought it up as if to confirm something.

Then, as Amon expected, she delivered the news.

“The boss of White Dawn has been resurrected.”

Amon’s fists clenched tightly.

Cassie, noticing this, gently took his hand.

“Calm down. The boss has been revived, but it’s not quite as you described.”

“It’s no longer a female figure but a male one. It could communicate, but it was more like a deranged old man rather than the refined, noble persona you told me about.”

At this, the tension in Amon’s fists eased.

While demons didn’t inherently have a fixed gender, they usually took on the form of young women—often posing as goddesses or saints.

Demons could change their appearance but rarely did, as they took immense pride in their chosen forms.

Conclusion: She wasn’t back.

Seeing that Amon had calmed down, Cassie moved to the main point.

“Here’s the deal. Investigate the dungeon boss. If possible, find exclusive information that only you would recognize.”

According to Cassie, the dungeon had originated from failed experiments with holy power.

The company wanted to study its interactions with this energy.

While the Recketio Corporation could recruit holy power users if necessary, they weren’t trustworthy.

The betrayal rate hovered around 2–3%.

With Amon—a reliable individual familiar with the dungeon—there was no reason to rely on outsiders.

“What do you think? Can you handle it?”

“Of course. Just make sure I’m properly compensated.”

“I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.”

Without even thoroughly reviewing the details, Amon immediately agreed.

He trusted Cassie.

And Cassie reciprocated that trust.

After Amon signed the contract, Cassie placed it back in the envelope.

“I’ll handle the complicated procedures.”

“Thanks. By the way, is this urgent? I was planning to go with Sonia after her school ends this afternoon.”

“That works. Take your time.”

“Thanks.”

***

Afterward, Amon and Cassie talked about various topics.

When it was time for Amon to leave, he shook hands with her.

“Feel free to send more requests my way.”

Though Amon had declined the position of Chief of Security to maintain his freedom, requests like this were a different matter.

As long as there wasn’t an attempt to tie him down, he welcomed jobs.

He preferred tasks from someone like Cassie over anonymous clients.

The number one cause of mercenary deaths was betrayal by clients or brokers, so working with Cassie was much safer for Amon.

“Honestly, I’d much rather have someone like you handle these jobs,” Cassie said.

From the company’s perspective, Amon was incredibly valuable: combat skills rivaling the Chief of Security, exceptional situational judgment, and, most importantly, guaranteed loyalty.

He was more dependable than the company’s external intelligence department, even if he was more expensive.

But the expense was worth it.

Mercenaries like Amon had another advantage.

Jokingly, Amon mentioned it as they shook hands.

“If anything goes wrong, you can always cut ties with me.”

Unlike employees, cutting off a mercenary was much easier.

If things went south, the company could simply disavow any association.

That’s why companies often sponsored or hired mercenaries despite having private forces.

But Cassie didn’t take Amon’s joke lightly.

Her expression turned serious as she replied firmly, “I’d never abandon you. Ever.”

“It was just a joke.”

“I don’t even joke about things like that.”

Her sincere answer made Amon chuckle as he patted her shoulder.

“Thanks, Cassie. You’re as dependable as ever.”

“If anything, I should be the one thanking you.”

Cassie’s expression softened at last.

Afterward, Amon bid her farewell and left the office.

***

Once Amon exited the office, passed through the lobby, and left the company premises, Cassie’s smile disappeared.

The moment he was out of sight, she adjusted her dress.

More precisely, she fixed it.

She buttoned up her neckline, closed the slit in her skirt, and threw on a vest.

A few additional touches transformed her seductive dress into a professional suit.

After tying her necktie, she picked up her phone.

“Let’s start the meeting we postponed.”