Free Web NovelChapter 207: _Secrets Threatening To Spill
"Uhm..." Devon was the first to step out of the car, his eyes wandering cautiously between the suited men before landing on Josiah. "G–Good day, sir. This... is an honest surprise."
Meanwhile, Ambrose remained glued to his car seat, trying not to disintegrate from how hard his heart was beating.
Shit! Shit! SHIT!
He’d been dreading this exact day. Imagining all sorts of ways the president of the United States Hunters Federation would finally meet him.
Never did he consider the possibility of him randomly cutting him off from moving about his day. With no prior notice too.
[Running scans on Espers...] Aura automatically ran a scan on the six men.
Within a couple of seconds, the results came out.
[Every target other than the president himself is an S-Rank—yikes.]
Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. ’Fuck me sideways...’
That was fucking overkill!
It wasn’t like he planned on fighting his way out of this anyway. But still.
"Hunter Ferguson." Josiah gave the S-Rank a curt nod. "I’ve heard and seen great things about you. Good to see you following splendidly in your grandfather’s footsteps."
Devon managed a smile but was barely able to mask his unease.
Slowly, the President’s eyes flitted to the car, locking directly on Ambrose. "Guide Ambrose Hale?" He arched his brow. "If you don’t mind I’m actually here to speak with you."
Ambrose closed his eyes the moment those words hit him.
Looks like pretending to be invisible was out of the picture.
"About what, sir?" Sure enough, Devon didn’t chicken out. Not even before a man who could break him with a literal word. "We were actually on our way home. And Ambrose has had a long morning."
"Why, of course." Josiah deadpanned. "Anyone would be exhausted after seeing all those articles about themselves on the internet."
Ambrose reluctantly opened the car door, placing out only a foot. He squinted hard at the President, noticing the edge in his voice.
Devon’s mouth parted and closed but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He glanced back at Ambrose as if subtly telling him ’he tried his best’.
The latter smiled wryly before coming out of the car fully. "Good day, Mr President." He lowered his head a bit. "To what do I owe this honorable visit?"
Josiah tilted his head by only a few centimetres. Then—his lips curled upwards. "You can call me ’Josiah’, boy. It’s okay." He took a step forward, that single movement making Ambrose shiver. "I’d like to discuss something... important. If you don’t mind."
Ambrose exchanged a glance with Devon.
He cleared his throat before speaking. "Well, si—Josiah." his fists balled. "Could we have the discussion somewhere else? Perhaps somewhere private and away from all this traffic noise."
His eyes slid to the highway ahead of them. Josiah followed his gaze, gradually nodding his understanding.
"Sounds fine to me." The man’s smile broadened almost uncannily. "We could take you to a—"
"I’d prefer we talk at my house," Ambrose stated firmly, keeping his chin raised. "If that’s fine by you."
For a brief moment, silence stretched between them.
The wind howled softly across the road while cars sped past in the distance.
Then Josiah smiled again.
"Very well." His deep voice carried a strange weight to it. "Lead the way, Ambrose."
The Guide nearly sagged in relief.
At least home turf was better than getting dragged into some mysterious Federation facility and dissected like an alien specimen.
The convoy followed closely behind Devon’s car the entire drive back to the suburbs.
And the closer they got to the house, the more Ambrose’s stomach twisted itself into knots.
By the time they finally parked in front of the property, Viktor was already stepping out through the front entrance in nothing but black sweatpants and a loose shirt.
His brows knitted immediately at the sight of the black Jeeps. Then his icy gaze landed on Josiah.
For a split second confusion crossed his face. Right before realisation hit.
Valentine’s warning.
’The president has taken an interest in Ambrose.’
Shit.
"President Josiah." Viktor greeted carefully as everyone stepped out of the vehicles. "This is unexpected."
"You must be Viktor Morozov." Josiah’s sharp eyes swept over him briefly. "A pleasure."
The Ice Prince only nodded stiffly.
Something about the atmosphere already felt deeply wrong.
Inside the house, the tension only worsened.
Orion had thankfully fallen asleep upstairs earlier, leaving the living room eerily quiet as Ambrose, Devon, Viktor and Josiah settled down.
The six suited S-Ranks remained standing around the room like statues.
Ambrose hated every second of it.
Josiah crossed one leg over the other calmly. "I’ll get straight to the point."
His gaze pinned Ambrose instantly. "The Echo Rift incident."
There it was.
"I must admit," Josiah continued smoothly, "it was rather impressive seeing a mere C-Rank survive an SS-Rank dungeon collapse." His lips curved faintly. "Especially one involving the deaths of so many capable Hunters."
Ambrose’s throat dried.
"Tell me," the President leaned forward slightly. "How exactly did you survive?"
The second the question landed, Ambrose felt it.
Power.
Invisible and suffocating.
It slithered through the room like smoke before wrapping tightly around his senses.
His heartbeat accelerated violently as words nearly clawed their way out of his mouth against his will.
But then—
He remembered something crucial.
Technically truthful answers counted too.
So Ambrose forced a smile onto his face despite the pressure threatening to crush his lungs.
"My teamwork with Valentine Lockwood, Gabriel Silverstone, Viktor Morozov and Devon Ferguson helped me survive." He answered quickly. "Without them I’d honestly be dead."
The pressure loosened after that as Josiah hummed thoughtfully.
Beside Ambrose, Viktor subtly narrowed his eyes. He could practically feel the Sovereign Tongue wrapping around the room.
And the fact Ambrose was still coherent at all was already alarming.
Most lower-ranked Hunters would’ve folded instantly.
Josiah spoke again.
"What secrets," his voice deepened unnaturally, "is Ambrose Hale hiding right now?"
Devon immediately shot to his feet. "Sir?!"
Viktor moved almost at the same time. "That’s enough."
The suited men instantly stepped forward.
Aether exploded through the living room in suffocating waves but Ambrose barely noticed.
Because suddenly his mind wasn’t his anymore.
The pressure slammed into him like a tidal wave. His lips parted unwillingly as panic consumed him whole.
’I—I can’t stop—’
Every secret he had threatened to spill out.
Then suddenly—something burned deep within his soul.
A cold but oddly familiar mark.
The Necrotic Mark!
It flared violently, making the lights in the living room flicker. Then shadows flooded the corners of the house unnaturally fast.
A cold chill swept across everyone’s skin.
The suited S-Ranks tensed immediately.
Josiah’s eyes narrowed, scanning the room while someone appeared sitting casually atop the couch armrest beside Ambrose.
As though he’d always been there.
Long black coat.
Sharp crimson eyes.
An overwhelming aura of death itself.
Valentine Lockwood crossed one leg over the other before slowly lifting his gaze toward Josiah. The smile on his lips never reached his eyes.
"Now," the Necromancer drawled softly. "Why exactly are we trying to rip secrets out of this Guide?"
