Ryder's expression barely shifted as he flipped through the files one by one. Each dossier held crisp photographs, psychological profiles, detailed training records, and logs of missions completed. Some even listed advanced infiltration techniques or counterintelligence specialties that piqued his interest. His mind worked quickly, calculating exactly who would make the best personal bodyguards, covert agents—or something far more intimate.
Hmm… I'll need those with sharp intellect and exceptional combat aptitude if they're going to serve as my shadow operatives.
Then he paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he tilted the folder, catching the reflection of Director Belova in the polished surface. An idea slithered through his thoughts, dark and tempting.
As for powers… well, I already have plenty of test subjects here. Even this old director might serve. I could experiment—see if it's possible to awaken Cursed Energy within them. After all, the entire compound is saturated with negative emotions, steeped in trauma and pain. If this were the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, how many special-grade curses would already be crawling out of these walls?
His lips curled faintly at the thought.
Finally, he pushed three selected files toward Belova. "I want these three," he said evenly, tapping the dossiers.
She gave a small, satisfied nod and pressed a discreet button on her desk. Moments later, the heavy doors swung open. Two silent attendants escorted in the three women he'd chosen. They were dressed in sleek, form-fitting training attire that left little to the imagination, their movements graceful yet guarded, eyes betraying a deep wariness—though disciplined enough to hide outright fear.
Director Belova gestured smoothly. "Here they are, as requested. Please, take your time with your… inspection. Once you approve, we'll begin processing the transfer."
Ryder leaned back, studying the trio with a slow, predatory grin.
Perfect. Soon enough, they'll be more than Black Widows—they'll be the first of my own hand-picked Cursed Executors. And if this wretched place is as drenched in malevolent energy as I suspect, I'll have no shortage of fuel to shape them exactly how I want.
The three women stepped forward, falling into a loose line before him. Each was striking in her own way, the Red Room's ruthless selection and conditioning evident in every honed muscle and poised stance. Yet beneath that steely discipline lingered the subtle tremor of uncertainty—each instinctively sensed that their lives were about to change in ways they couldn't yet fathom.
The first was tall, with a regal bearing and long silver-blonde hair braided tightly down her back. Her sharp gray eyes flicked over Ryder with cool calculation, as if she were already weighing weaknesses to exploit—yet the faintest flutter of her pulse at her throat betrayed that calm exterior.
The second was a dark-haired beauty with sun-kissed skin, emerald eyes glinting under thick lashes. Her figure was slightly softer, almost misleadingly delicate, though her shoulders were taut with a dancer's rigid control. Her gaze lingered on Ryder's face—on the black tattoos curling like sinister brands from beneath his collar—then darted away, throat bobbing in a silent swallow.
The third was shorter, lithe and sinewy, with cropped raven hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. Her expression was harder, almost defiant, chin tilted up just enough to show the stubborn spark the Red Room hadn't entirely crushed. Even so, her hands clenched faintly at her sides as she met the crimson glow of Ryder's eyes.
They all took in the sight of the man standing before them: a figure draped in an immaculate tailored suit, yet his skin was marked by dark, jagged tattoos that seemed to writhe of their own accord. His eyes burned with an unnatural red gleam, slitted slightly, carrying an unsettling mix of amusement and hungry intent.
This is him? they all thought in their own way. Our new… master?
None dared speak. Their training ran too deep, strangling questions in their throats. But inside, unease coiled through each of them. They were Black Widows—crafted to seduce, deceive, and kill without hesitation—yet for the first time in years, they felt like prey.
Ryder let his gaze drift lazily from one to the next, savoring the subtle shifts in their posture, the quickened breaths they tried to suppress.
Beautiful. Deadly. And utterly mine now.
He let a slow, dangerous smile curl across his lips. "You'll be coming with me from now on. And trust me… your lives are about to become far more interesting than anything the Red Room could ever devise."
They didn't answer, only dipped their heads in silent acknowledgment, though wariness still glimmered in their eyes. Ryder's grin deepened, dark and predatory thanks to Sukuna's face—but inside, he was actually smiling with a warm, almost boyish excitement.
"Now then, you three just wait here. I have some business to finish," he said calmly as he stood.
Director Belova rose from her chair sharply. "And what exactly do you mean by—?"
She didn't get to finish. Ryder's hand lashed out, gripping her throat in an instant. Her eyes bulged, mouth opening in a silent gasp as she clawed at him. With casual strength, he lifted her off the ground. Her legs kicked feebly in the air.
"Oh, old woman… I was planning to keep this subtle. But I'm afraid you've outlived your use."
His other hand plunged into her chest. Flesh split with a sickening crack. When he pulled back, her still-beating heart throbbed in his grip, dripping hot blood onto the marble floor. Director Belova's eyes rolled up, and her body convulsed before crumpling lifelessly at his feet.
The three Widows gasped, their faces pale with shock, even horror. But Ryder simply turned, heart still pumping in his hand, and gave them a smile—twisted by Sukuna's sinister features.
"Relax. I'm here to free you from this place. Except for you three—I want you to work for me from now on."
He casually dropped Belova's heart, letting it splatter darkly across the polished floor. "And this… this is my payment to all of you for your loyalty. The Red Room that tortured you all? It ends tonight."
One of the women, the Platinum Blonde-haired beauty named Yulia, stepped forward, eyes wide but shining with something dangerously close to devotion. "If that's true… then we will follow you—wholeheartedly, from this moment on."