CHAPTER 87: UNDERSTANDING THE TIMES

Grey exhaled slowly as the weight of the conversation pressed down on his shoulders. "He gave the go-ahead to send Liam the locations."

Kent’s composure cracked instantly. "What? Shouldn’t the chief director of all people understand the risk involved?" His voice carried a mixture of disbelief and distress. The thought of handing over the complete list of Somnahira branches to Liam seemed like madness, even by their standards.

"He suggests that we keep track of Liam’s movements," Grey continued, his face growing dim and contemplative. "And if we can’t get him any support, he’ll be more than glad to send help from New York."

Kent began pacing, his mind racing through the implications. "This is such short notice, even for our most capable allies in the state. And Nacht himself only just returned from one of the missions today—I’m not sure he’s recovered enough for another operation."

Grey’s eyes grew distant, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, as if speaking to himself rather than to Kent. "Lucien is playing this kid. This might be serving our purpose right now, but for how long?"

Kent remained silent, but that was the hard truth still. Lucien wanted the death of these family members, and if their secret weapon felt ready, especially after such a successful mission, then Lucien was all for it.

"Well, what do we do now, sir? Do we send it to him?" Kent asked, though he already suspected the answer. There was no point in weighing options when they all led to the same inevitable conclusion.

Grey clasped his hands in front of him in thought and the silence stretched for several minutes as he wrestled with the decision. Then finally, he spoke, "Call Liam in for tomorrow." He paused, then added with a heavy sigh, "I’ll be going with him too."

Kent’s response was immediate and sharp. "What? Director, I’m sorry, but that’s unreasonable even for you. If something goes sideways and the wrong person identifies you, that would be a catastrophic problem for USOV as a whole."

Grey’s gaze snapped to Kent, his eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and determination. "Do you think I don’t know that?" He asked, but it was a rhetoric question, "I’m fully aware of the stakes involved here, but we don’t have a choice. It’s our fault this is happening in the first place. Ohio was only the beginning, but we are already at war here."

Kent released a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He nodded slowly, recognizing the futility of further argument. The director had made his decision, and Kent would follow, as he always did.

...

Several hours had passed since Vaiden’s arrival in Michigan. The god had been taking his time exploring Detroit, though his appearance had undergone yet another transformation as the flashy popstar look from the ’90s had drawn too much attention, forcing him to adapt.

Now he presented himself as an attractive young man with tousled blonde hair, his expression still carrying that same confidence that seemed to be his trademark. He wore a casual, layered outfit and an unbuttoned tan shirt over a white t-shirt, paired with dark blue jeans and a watch on his left wrist.

Giovanni’s Ristorante buzzed with the gentle hum of evening diners, and Vaiden sat at a corner table, watching through the windows as humans, whom he usually referred to as "creatures", walked past, each person having a different destination.

A waiter approached, carefully setting down two plates before him with a warm smile.

"Thank you," Vaiden said courteously, his attention already drifting back to his observations. The past twenty-four hours or so, of human-watching had been an experience he hadn’t anticipated enjoying as much as he did.

Through his exploration and the vast network of information at his disposal, he had come to understand more about USOV’s true purpose. They were humanity’s response to mythical creatures fracturing into the Earth realm from the divine realm. Various factions had also emerged to help USOV combat these beings they perceived as threats, with the added incentive of profit from harvesting their body parts—a typical human approach.

These organizations hadn’t existed when the family heads properly arrived in the human realm eighty years ago. The speed of human adaptation impressed him, even as their methods disturbed him.

The way humans dealt with mythical creatures was fundamentally flawed, but he understood their nature. If it had taken them this long to learn to coexist with people of different skin colors and cultures, it would probably take another century or two before they could normalize living alongside the mythical beings they labeled as threats.

Vaiden then turned his attention to the meal before him: fried calamari with cherry peppers served with spicy marinara sauce, and grilled octopus on a bed of chickpeas with roasted pepper sauce. He licked his lips appreciatively. It didn’t matter that as a god he required neither food nor water, human cuisine remained one of the few things he genuinely appreciated about their species.

As he ate, his enthusiasm for the food led him to vocalize his thoughts about human nature and their treatment of mythical creatures. The surrounding diners glanced at him with bemused expressions, shaking their heads at what appeared to be the ramblings of a man with questionable manners.

When the waiter returned, noticing the empty plates, he asked with a warming smile, "Did you enjoy your food, sir?"

Vaiden grinned back, genuine pleasure lighting about his facials. "Oh, very much so. Wonderful job, as always."

"Thank you," the waiter replied. "Would you like anything else, or should I get the bill?"

The mention of payment sparked a moment of realization in Vaiden’s mind-"Oh yes, I have to pay them for the food," he thought, then told the waiter, "Alright, go get it."

As the waiter departed with the empty plates, Vaiden glanced around cautiously and when he was certain no one was watching, he drew a subtle gesture on the table’s surface. Just then, several hundred-dollar bills materialized one by one, with their details perfect down to its finest. This was a product of having the entire internet’s knowledge at his disposal as he could use it to whip up the country’s current-day currency.

When the waiter returned with the bill, his eyes widened at the casual display of cash spread across the table. The customer looked up at him with that same confident grin. "Will this be enough?"

The waiter was momentarily speechless before stammering, "Sir, this is too much. Your bill is only—" He began to consult the receipt in his hand.

"Alright, so that settles it then," Vaiden said, cutting him off as he stood and gave the waiter a friendly pat on the shoulder.

The waiter stood frozen, watching the mysterious customer leave the restaurant. He looked toward his colleague at the counter, who returned his shocked expression with equal bewilderment. All the waiter could do was shake his head with a shrug, though a smile began building on his face.

Guess what?, this was the same waiter who had served Team C and Liam over a week ago. And It was turning out to be his goddamn month.