SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery

Chapter 442: Preperation


The question hung in the air like a loaded gun.

Do you want to meet the World President?

My mind raced, Deduction and Strategist both firing simultaneously, analyzing angles and implications.

This was it. The opportunity I'd been building toward for three years. The figure behind everything—the Cain Protocol, the NovaCore experiments, the systematic manipulation of governments and populations. Trapped. Contained. Vulnerable in a way they'd never been before.

Every instinct I had screamed at me to say yes immediately.

But I'd learned over these past three years that instinct, while valuable, needed to be tempered with strategy.

"Samuel," I said carefully, "that's an incredibly generous offer."

"I sense a 'but' coming," Samuel replied, his tone still jovial but attentive.

"It's not a 'but' exactly," I said, pacing slowly across the living room. Evelyn had moved to sit on the arm of the couch, her blindfolded face turned toward me, tracking my movement by sound. "It's more of a 'when.'"

"Ah," Samuel said. "You want to be ready."

"Exactly." I stopped pacing, organizing my thoughts. "The World President isn't just some corrupt official or corporate executive. This is someone who's been operating in the shadows for years, who has resources and influence we probably can't even fully comprehend. Walking into a meeting unprepared would be suicide."

"Sensible," Samuel agreed. "Very sensible. What do you need?"

"Time," I said. "Two, maybe three weeks. There are things I need to handle first. Preparations to make. People to protect."

I was thinking of Evelyn, of the Cain Protocol procedure Alexis was working on. Of making sure my team was as secure as possible before I walked into what could easily become a trap, regardless of Samuel's assurances.

"And you want me to keep eyes on our mysterious guest in the meantime," Samuel said, not a question but a statement.

"Can you do that?" I asked. "Without tipping them off that they're being watched?"

Samuel let out a hearty laugh, that rich uncle energy flooding back. "My friend, I have been playing this game since before you were born. Of course I can keep eyes on someone in my own country without them knowing. What kind of host would I be if I didn't know exactly what my guests were doing?"

Despite the tension, I felt myself smile. "A bad one."

"Exactly! No, no, don't worry about this. I will make sure the World President stays exactly where they are. And if they try anything—anything—you will know immediately."

"I appreciate that, Samuel. Really."

"Of course, of course." I heard him shift, probably leaning back in his chair. "Two to three weeks, you said? That gives me time to gather more information on their activities here. The experiments they were overseeing. The people they've been meeting with. By the time you arrive, I'll have a complete picture for you."

"That would be valuable," I said.

"Consider it done." He paused, and when he spoke again, his tone had shifted slightly. More serious, more pointed. "But Reynard, I must ask—are you sure about this? Meeting the World President face to face is not a small thing. Even with preparation, even with all the advantages we can give you, this is dangerous."

"I know," I said quietly. "But it's necessary. We've been fighting shadows for three years. It's time to confront the person casting them."

"Bold," Samuel said, and I could hear the approval in his voice. "Very bold. This is why I supported you at the UN, you know. You don't just talk about change—you walk toward it, even when it's dangerous."

"Someone has to," I replied.

"Yes," he agreed. "Someone has to. Very well. Two to three weeks. I will keep our guest comfortable and under observation. And when you arrive, we will arrange a meeting. Somewhere secure. Somewhere where we control all the variables."

"Thank you, Samuel. This means more than you know."

"Thank you, Reynard. For trusting me with this. For giving me the chance to be part of something meaningful." He chuckled. "Besides, having the World President trapped in my country is excellent leverage. Very useful for future negotiations."

There was the shrewd operator again, always thinking three moves ahead.

"Just don't let them escape," I said.

"Please," Samuel scoffed. "I did not get where I am by being careless. The World President will remain exactly where they are until you arrive. You have my word."

"I'll hold you to that."

"As you should!" Another laugh, then his tone shifted to something more casual. "Now, before we hang up, I must ask—the fashion designer. Camille. I hope she's not single, right?"

I blinked. "What?"

"Just curious!" Samuel said innocently. "That dress she wore to the exhibition, very impressive. And the way she kissed you in front of all those cameras—very bold. I appreciate boldness."

"Samuel, she's—" I stopped, not even sure how to finish that sentence.

"Taken, yes, yes, I can see that," he said with amusement. "I'm not trying to steal your woman, Reynard. Just appreciating good taste when I see it. You've surrounded yourself with very capable, very impressive people. That speaks well of you."

"I'm lucky to have them," I said honestly.

"Luck has nothing to do with it," Samuel replied. "You earned their loyalty. Remember that. Now, I should let you go. You have preparations to make, and I have a very important guest to monitor. We'll speak again soon, yes?"

"Yes. And Samuel? Thank you. Really."

"No thanks necessary between allies, my friend. Just come to Ghana when you're ready, and we'll face this together. Oh, and Reynard?"

"Yes?"

"Bring that fashion designer with you. I want to commission a suit or at the very least have her make a suit for me and you bring it here."

Despite everything, I laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

"Excellent! Until we speak again, Reynard Vale. Stay safe. Stay smart. And give my regards to your ladies."

"I will. Goodbye, Samuel."

"Goodbye, my friend."

The line went dead.

I stood there for a moment, phone still in my hand, processing everything that had just happened. The World President was in Ghana. Trapped. And in two to three weeks, I'd be meeting them face to face.

But something else nagged at me, a detail that Observation had picked up on even while I was focused on Samuel's words.

Spain and Poland.

Two countries that we knew—knew—were completely aligned with the World President. They'd been vocal supporters of the current system, had actively worked against coalition efforts, had blocked investigations into World President activities.

And yet they hadn't made a move.

Ghana closes its borders, essentially traps the World President inside, and Spain and Poland do… nothing? No international pressure? No demands for the borders to reopen? No diplomatic incidents?

Either they didn't know the World President was in Ghana—which seemed unlikely given their level of coordination—or they were waiting for something. Biding their time.

That didn't sit right with me.

Instinct was pinging, that familiar sensation that something was wrong, that I was missing a piece of the puzzle. But I couldn't quite identify what it was.

I'd need to keep monitoring their activity. Have Anthony look into any unusual movements or communications from those governments. Make sure we weren't walking into something worse than we anticipated.

"Rey?"

Evelyn's voice pulled me back to the present. She was still sitting on the arm of the couch, her head tilted slightly in that way that meant she was concerned.

"Sorry," I said, realizing I'd been standing in silence for who knows how long. "Just thinking."

"About the World President?"

"Among other things." I walked over and set the phone down on the coffee table. "Samuel's keeping them contained in Ghana. I told him we'd come in two to three weeks."

"We?" Evelyn asked softly.

"I'm not doing this alone," I said firmly. "I'll bring whoever wants to come. Whoever's ready. Though in all honesty I want Anthony only. This mission feels dangerous and I don't want you all in it."

She nodded slowly, processing that. Then, quieter: "Do you think you'll be ready? In two to three weeks?"

"I'll have to be," I said. "But there are things I need to handle first. People I need to make sure are protected."

I looked at her, at the blindfold she'd worn for so long, and made a decision.

"Alexis!" I called toward the kitchen.

There was a pause, then footsteps. Alexis appeared in the doorway, her hair slightly mussed from whatever she'd been doing. Behind her, I could see Camille and Sienna both peeking around the corner with curiosity.

"What is it?" Alexis asked.

"How much longer until we can cure Evelyn?" I asked directly. "Until we can reverse the Cain Protocol?"

Alexis's expression shifted, that clinical assessment taking over. She was quiet for a moment, and I could practically see her running through calculations and simulations in her head.

Then she met my eyes.

"Tomorrow," she said simply.

The word hung in the air.

Evelyn's hand flew to her mouth, a small sound escaping her throat.

Camille let out a whoop from the kitchen. "Tomorrow?! Are you serious?!"

"I finished the simulations this morning," Alexis said, her tone measured but I could see the slight tremor in her hands. Excitement mixed with nervousness. "I've run it sixty-seven times. Every variable I can think of. The success rate is ninety-six point three percent."

"Ninety-six point three," I repeated, feeling something loosen in my chest. Not fifty-fifty. Not a coin flip. Ninety-six point three percent.

"The procedure will take approximately four hours," Alexis continued, slipping into doctor mode. "I'll need to work carefully, precisely. But the neural pathways are clearly mapped now, thanks to…" She paused, glancing at me. "Thanks to the data we gathered. I know exactly what needs to be adjusted and how to do it without causing damage."

Evelyn had gone completely still, her hand still over her mouth, tears beginning to leak out from under her blindfold.

Sienna moved into the room, walking over to sit beside Evelyn on the couch arm, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're going to be okay," she said softly. "You're going to be able to see."

"Tomorrow," Evelyn whispered, her voice breaking. "Tomorrow I could… I could look at Rey. Actually look at him."

"Yes," Alexis confirmed. "If the procedure goes as planned—and I have every reason to believe it will—tomorrow evening you'll be able to remove that blindfold permanently."

I walked over to where Evelyn sat, kneeling down in front of her. I took her hands in mine, feeling them trembling.

"Are you ready?" I asked gently.

She let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. "Am I ready? Rey, I've been ready for a year. I just… I didn't think it was actually possible. And now you're telling me it's happening tomorrow?"

"If you want it to," I said. "We're not rushing this if you're not comfortable."

"No," she said immediately, gripping my hands tighter. "No, I want this. I want to see again. I want to see you. I want to see all of you without this—" she gestured to the blindfold "—without this thing between us."

"Then tomorrow it is," Alexis said from behind me. "First thing in the morning. We'll start early so we have plenty of time."

Evelyn nodded, tears still streaming down her face, but she was smiling now. Actually smiling.

"Tomorrow," she repeated, like she was testing the word. Making sure it was real.

"Tomorrow," I confirmed.

And in two to three weeks, I'd be meeting the World President.

But tomorrow, we'd give Evelyn her sight back.

That felt like the right order of priorities.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

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