"First, I need to confirm something."
Jim suddenly shed his usual flippant attitude, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Do you really know what file I'm talking about? Or are you just bluffing?"
Livia met his eyes without the slightest hesitation, even a hint of mockery dancing in her gaze.
"You're talking about a map, aren't you?"
The answer was simple—yet hit the mark with precision.
A gleam flashed in Jim's eyes. He didn't press the issue, instead slowly changed direction as if taking a casual stroll. But Livia knew—he was sizing up her relationship with Marcellus.
"Interesting," he chuckled under his breath. "So how did you find out about the file? Don't tell me… Marcellus told you himself?"
Livia shook her head, her smirk deepening with scorn.
"You overestimate him. He'd never trust anyone—least of all me."
She paused, then continued calmly,
"My father told me. You know how Edgar is—he never bets on just one side. He ordered me to find a way to get a look at that file. What he didn't expect… was that I'd keep a copy for myself."
Jim was silent for a few seconds.
That explanation… he half believed it.
From what he knew of Edgar, it wasn't surprising he'd use his own daughter as a pawn. And Livia—judging by her current behavior—didn't seem like someone easily manipulated.
More importantly, her story wasn't airtight. In fact, she had deliberately left certain "gaps"—like how she actually obtained the file. That made it feel even more believable.
"You're good at spinning tales," Jim finally said—but his tone lacked any trace of sarcasm.
Livia smiled lightly, unfazed by the remark.
"Believe it or not, doesn't matter. I'm not begging you to work with me. We just… happen to need each other."
"Oh?" Jim raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you need from me?"
"You know as well as I do—Eryx may be gone, but the defense lines he left behind are still very much in place."
Livia paused.
"I've got some power, sure, but not enough to move freely in that sector.
If you're half as competent as the rumors say, then you should know their patrol routes by heart—which happens to be exactly what I'm lacking right now."
"Huh. Didn't expect such honesty from you," Jim said with a faint grin.
"Alright, I'll give you that—that's smart of you."
He straightened up, finally showing a shred of seriousness.
"Then I'll lay it out plainly: You want the defense intel I have. And I want the original map. A copy will do, if you must."
A flicker of cold light passed through Livia's eyes.
Of course. He wanted everything—but refused to give any real guarantee in return.
"You think quite highly of yourself," she said coolly.
"You're offering me a maybe-real patrol map. How do I know you're not just setting a trap? Just like you can't be sure whether the map I give you is the real one or not."
Then she gave a sudden, pointed smile—a touch of provocation in her voice.
"Isn't that exactly how you like things? Everyone doubting, probing, second-guessing—but no one able to walk away. The murkier the waters, the more at home you feel."
Jim narrowed his eyes, watching her for a long moment—then slowly clapped.
"'The murkier the waters, the more at home you feel'… well said. You've hit the nail on the head."
"So you're agreeing to the deal?" Livia's gaze didn't shift, but her tone was laced with quiet steel.
"I'm willing to give it a try. Let's see what you're willing to offer."
He turned, looking out into the depths of the night.
"But remember this, Livia: Anyone who plays with me ends up either a rival… or a corpse. I hope you'll be the former."
"Then remember this too," Livia said with a slight smile, her eyes calm and unfathomable as deep lake water.
"Other people bet their lives—I bet my chances. And this game? I've played it before."
Their eyes met.
Sparks flew.
But neither moved.
Neither flinched.