The next day.
Emma sat in her office, silence wrapping around the room as she worked through files without pause. Papers, reports, decisions… all handled with cold precision.
A soft ding.
A notification appeared.
A meeting request.
High-class figures. Influential names. People who ruled industries, politics… power.
Emma glanced at it.
Unimpressed.
"…Tch."
She leaned back slightly.
"Still beneath me."
Not arrogance.
Just fact.
An emperor doesn't see equals everywhere.
She stood up.
Walked out of her office.
Mostang was nearby, leaning against the wall, cigarette between his fingers.
Emma stopped in front of him.
"Mostang."
He looked at her.
"…Yeah?"
"I have a meeting."
A pause.
"I want you as my bodyguard."
Mostang raised a brow slightly.
Then smirked.
"…Heh. Replacing someone, huh?"
Emma didn't respond immediately.
Just a small silence.
Valeria.
Then—
"…Yes."
Mostang flicked the cigarette away.
"Fine by me."
He straightened up.
"I'll make sure no one even breathes wrong near you."
Kane, who was nearby, glanced at them.
"…You going out?"
Emma nodded once.
"High-class meeting."
Kane scoffed lightly.
"…Boring people."
Emma walked past him.
"They think they matter."
A small pause.
"They don't."
Mostang followed behind her, hands in his pockets.
As they walked.
There was a subtle shift in the air.
Like something was waiting.
Watching.
The game…
was starting to move.
The car stopped smoothly in front of the building.
The driver stepped out first, opening the door for her.
"Emperor… we can bring more people to assist you. You don't know what—"
Emma stepped out, calm, composed.
"I'm fine."
A slight glance toward Mostang.
"He's enough."
Mostang smirked faintly, hands in his pockets.
The driver hesitated… then nodded.
"…Understood. Call me when you're finished."
He got back in the car and drove off.
At the entrance.
A guard noticed her instantly.
His posture straightened.
"…Emperor."
He quickly opened the door without another word.
Emma walked in.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Mostang followed right behind her.
Inside.
A large, polished room.
Expensive table.
Men in suits. A few women. All powerful in their own fields.
All turned their heads.
The moment she entered.
Silence.
Emma walked forward.
Pulled a chair.
Sat down.
Elegantly.
Crossed her legs slightly.
"…Let's not waste time."
Her voice was calm.
Cold.
They exchanged glances.
Then one of them cleared his throat.
"…Miss Emma. We wanted to discuss—"
Emma cut him off.
"Get to the point, Please."
Silence again.
Pressure filled the room.
Mostang stood behind her, quiet… observing everything.
Every movement.
Every breath.
Then—
They started talking.
Business.
Power shifts.
Control.
While they were talking.
Mostang's eyes shifted—
Just for a second.
That's all it took.
Behind them.
Two figures.
Silent. Precise.
Marcus.
Lean, long hair, steady stance.
Maya.
Short hair, sharp gaze—her gun already raised.
Aimed.
At Emma.
Mostang moved instantly.
No warning.
No hesitation.
He grabbed Emma.
Pulled her back.
Pressed her tightly against his chest, turning his body to shield her.
"DOWN."
His voice wasn't loud.
But it carried authority.
Deadly.
---
The room froze.
Then—
"LEAVE. NOW."
That one was louder.
Colder.
The people at the table panicked.
Chairs scraped.
Voices overlapped.
They rushed out—fast, messy, desperate.
Mostang didn't move.
Still holding Emma firmly.
His eyes locked forward.
On them.
Marcus tilted his head slightly.
Maya didn't lower her gun.
A small smirk.
"…So that's him," Marcus said quietly.
"Fast."
Emma… didn't struggle.
Didn't panic.
From within Mostang's hold—
Her eyes shifted.
Calm.
Focused.
"…You came in broad daylight."
A pause.
"…That's bold."
Maya's finger rested lightly on the trigger.
"And you're still talking."
Mostang slowly loosened his grip.
"...You okay?."
"Yes."
Emma said.
Emma stepped forward.
Calmly.
Like nothing just happened.
She adjusted her shirt first.
Smooth. Precise.
Then her skirt—
Fixing every detail, every fold.
Not out of nervousness.
But control.
Then she stood straight.
Fully.
Her posture—perfect.
Untouchable.
Her face tilted slightly.
And now—
It showed.
Her right eye scar.
Clear.
Sharp.
Unmistakable.
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
"…So it's real."
Maya's smirk faded just a little.
"…Not edited."
Emma looked at them.
Cold.
Unreadable.
"…You came all this way."
A pause.
"…Just to point guns?"
Her gaze sharpened.
"Or are you here to die properly?"
Maya didn't answer Emma's words.
Her eyes stayed locked on her.
Cold.
Focused.
Then.
She raised the gun again.
No hesitation this time.
BANG.
The shot cracked through the room.
But Emma had already moved.
A slight shift.
Almost lazy.
Her body tilted just enough.
At the same time, Mostang reacted faster than thought.
He pulled her sideward, his movement sharp and practiced.
The bullet sliced past them.
and slammed into the wall behind.
Concrete chipped.
Dust scattered into the air.
Silence didn't last.
Mostang's eyes snapped toward Maya.
"Annoying."
His hand moved instantly.
He bent down, grabbed a chunk of broken stone from the floor.
And without even fully standing.
THREW it.
Fast.
Too fast for a normal person.
The rock spun through the air.
CRACK.
It smashed directly into Maya's gun.
The weapon jerked violently out of alignment.
Nearly slipping from her hand.
"Tch—!"
Maya stepped back, grip tightening.
Marcus moved immediately.
"Careful."
His voice low, controlled.
He adjusted his stance, positioning himself slightly ahead of Maya now.
Protective.
Strategic.
Around them.
The room was already empty.
All the officials had fled in panic the moment Mostang shouted.
Doors left open.
Chairs knocked over.
A meeting turned battlefield in seconds.
Emma?
She didn't rush.
Didn't panic.
Didn't even breathe differently.
She simply stood there.
Straight.
Her hair slightly swaying from the movement earlier.
And her right eye scar fully visible now.
She looked at Maya.
Then Marcus.
Then back to Maya again.
"…You missed."
Her voice was quiet.
But it cut deeper than the gunshot.
Maya's expression hardened.
"You think this is a game?"
Emma tilted her head slightly.
"…No."
A pause.
Then.
"It's disappointing."
Mostang smirked faintly.
"Can I kill them now?"
Emma didn't look at him.
"…No."
Another step forward.
Slow.
Measured.
Dangerous.
"I want to see…"
Her eyes locked onto them again.
"…what Joseph gathered."
Marcus exhaled slowly.
Then.
He smiled.
Just a little.
"…Then don't regret it."
And just like that
The tension snapped.
Again.
Chapter end