This World Can't Handle A Cultivating Bad-boy.

Chapter 125: ch 124: Findings


Zara got up and dressed as they made their way for the tailor, Aegon could practically already hear Miss Claudette's voice screaming at him.

They stopped in front of the tailor's shop and were guiding to the back. The elevator similarly plummeted like last time but this Aegon was prepared for it, Zara screamed the way down before he finally pulled the bars back.

And everyone's eyes were back on him.

"Is this normal?" Zara whispered to him but he ignored her, facing Chloe, the tailor who designed Mira's suit. "Is Miss Claudette in?"

She winced loudly. "Yeah and she's pissed."

'Yeah. I thought as much.' He swallowed hard as he headed up the stair for her office. Grabbing the handle and hoped that lightning could strike him down now.

With a long sigh he finally pushed the door. The same dimly lit from with the only source of light coming from Miss Claudette's cigarette.

The room reeked of nicotine, not the casual stick or two, heavy enough for an Italian mob family.

"Miss Claudette?" He called out hesitantly, holding up the case with the suit as a shield. "Could we talk?"

He still hadn't met her eyes, the room was way too dark but from the movement of the cigarette he could tell that she was listening.

"I had a bit of a situation—"

Before he could finish, the cream of her leather chair shut him up as she pushed off the chair. "Aegon?" She said, voice raspy.

"Yes?"

"Did you destroy me suit?"

Her words were straight to the point.

"Actually... I was in a—"

He tried to rebuttal but she overlapped his voice.

"The suit I made less than two weeks ago, the suit you said was 'too much'—'' she imitated his voice on the last words. "And now you're here, about to ask me to fix it for you, like you did nothing wrong."

"The suit served its purpose," he drummed his fingers against the case. "And I think—"

"Get out of my office Aegon." Her voice was cold. "I'm no longer your tailor."

"Oh, come on, Miss Claudette." He stepped into the office fully, shutting the door behind him and trapping them with the stench. "I didn't do it intentionally. I was fighting a hitman."

"I don't care." She said simply. "Two weeks Aegon. It was practically a child." Her voice was shaky.

Then he heard her sniffle in the dark. He squinted his eyes, "Miss Claudette, are you crying?"

She didn't answer but the sniffles were more evident now.

He took a step closer to her and tried a different approach. "You know it served its purpose right?" He softened his voice. "I literally got lasered in the chest by Nightwalker, a Paragon, and I lived."

"Really?"

She lightened up slightly.

"Yeah." He spoke comfortingly. "And then I was punched... Severally, and it still held. And then I was pumped enough lightning to light up a stadium but it still held."

***

After about ten minutes of Aegon describing how badly he was beaten Miss Claudette finally agreed to fix the suit.

He went back downstairs as he and Zara got a cab and headed for the storage unit.

She turned to him, his gaze completely fixed on the changing scenery passing by, lost in thought.

"What's in this storage unit Aegon?" She asked finally.

"What?" He'd completely forgotten where he was. "Just something that'll help clarify a lot."

"Hmm.." she murmured. "Nothing illegal right?"

"What?!" He exclaimed. "No! Nothing illegal." He lowered his tone as he caught the cab driver's neck nudging to the side. "What would you even ask that?"

"Because I've done illegal things." She answered honestly. "... so I know when someone's planning on doing their first one."

"Like what?"

"The staring out the window, jaw tense, feet nervously tapping the floor, and lastly the subtle but consistent bob of your throat.

All of which you're showing."

She was right, he was nervous yet he wasn't sure if it was illegal or not, but it was as good as illegal. If Alex found out he was lying then he was screwed.

Having no reply he returned to the window until the cab finally came to a halt just outside the storage unit.

After paying the cab driver they headed in and looked for the particular lock with the designated key.

"The key says 212 so let's get looking," Zara tilted her head. "It's gonna be a long search."

"..."

They searched row after row until they finally found the unit with the number above, "212."

Zara bent to unlock the unit and then dragged up the sheet but it stopped about two inches up—she didn't pull, nor did she stand.

Still crouched down with her hand on the sheet and sun on her face she turned to Aegon. "Aegon, who gave you that key?"

He took a step back. "Why are you asking? Open the door." He moved to help her with it.

"Stop!!" Her scream echoed throughout the aisle. "Who gave you that key Aegon? Be fucking honest."

"Omniblade did." He finally told her the truth. "He gave me the key and said to go find out the truth before he died."

Sighing wearily, she hit her head against the sheet. "Just great."

"Why?"

She didn't turn to him but her tone described the situation perfectly. "Next time the person who just tried to kill you gives you keys to something, maybe assume there's a trap."

He swallowed hard at her words, his throat tightened and he took another step back. "What's the trap?"

"It's an A.R.M.—Aetheric Resonance Mine. Lifting the door tensioned the wire.

Lifting it more would have snapped it... and us. You need to clip the sheet right here, then cut the wire.

After that, it's a standard dual-conductor defusal inside. Cut both wires at the same time, or we're roadkill."

"What?!" He yelled, trying to process what she just said.

"Aegon, this thing was designed to be sensitive, every time I flex his hands even by a little," She drew a breath. "I risk blowing up this entire block."

Rolling up his sleeve and tying his hair back, he bent low, next to her. "What do I need to do?"

"Firstly, do not take keys from hitmen." She just had to say it. "Secondly, take the clip out of my hair... you need to get low with a light, look for a glint of the monofilament strand stretched at the wall about an inch off the floor."

He drew a long breath before removing the pin, her hair splayed free, dropped to the ground and used his phone as a flashlight.

"Hey." Zara called his attention. "No pressure, literally."

Aegon was no less skilled. Though not someone who often indulged in ballroom dances, his movements were never clumsy.

Their steps mirrored one another, neither overstepping as they synchronized to the melodious tune.

"Mr Dhalar, I've certainly heard a lot about you." She gave a sly smile, her amethyst gleaming in the chandelier light. "Both gracefully and scandalous."

He adjusted his hand to her lower back and spoke, voice barely above a whisper. "And what part do you believe?"

Her smile stretched. "The part where you killed a very important associate of mine—" she rolled her eyes and added. "More accurately, my father's."

"...And you are?" He said smoothly.

"Ashlynn Moretti." She said as if the name alone was an ability. "Yes, from that Moretti family."

Aegon nodded, seamlessly twirling Ashlynn in a graceful arc as they danced.

This was the last thing he wanted to worry about at the moment but apparently problems don't wait for his convenience.

He finally found his voice as they danced. "Ms Moretti?..." He called her elegantly. "Your affairs and mine do not intertwine—"

"Is that so?" She cut in without raising the tone by a decibel. "That's not how it looks, especially when you're going around killing heroes."

He didn't react, at least not outwardly. On the surface, he kept his surprise that the minimum but inwardly, he was already sweating buckets.

He'd been discreet. Avoiding camerad streets, subtly was what it demanded and that was what he provided.

And yet, she knew.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He lied smoothly. "I'm a student who's not allowed off academy grounds unless with the appropriate documentation," He lowered his eyes to meet her. "And if you're talking about the recent hero deaths, I suggest you tread carefully... vigilantes don't care

Spectra burst forward. One hand on his neck while the other folded into a fist next to her and ready to explode.

Her green energy began to engulf her. "Tell me what you did, now."

Nightwalker was never phased, from when she lunged to now that her hand was trying its hardest to choke him.

He smiled through it all, he was somehow always in control. Even when being strangled.

Seeing her jaw clench, he decided to indulge her. "Alright, fine. But only because it's you...

I messed with the brakes a few days back, when I was still in the tracks—"

"Why?!" She snapped, cutting him off. "I gave you everything you wanted. You killed my husband, I rejected the trial... What else did you want?"

Her voice was shaky and the immense grief from the last few days were standing to show itself as cracks in her stoic demeanour.

"Oh, no." He exclaimed, raised a hand and placed it on her shoulder. "I didn't kill them to spite you..." He shrugged with her hand still on his neck. "I did it because they were important."

And that was the final straw.

Her fist shot forward to punch him but he caught it. Peaked at the side like he had just heard a dirty joke. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you actually think those worms are important."

"Why did you even become a hero?" She forcefully pulled back her hand. "You don't even like the people you save."

He stepped aside. Leaving her question unanswered for a minute.

He stood in front of his balcony's sliding door. "Because..." He took a deep breath, reveling in the background sound of rain and basking in the light of the skyline.

"... I'm the pinnacle of what a

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