Evie sat across from Judas in the back of a sleek, black sedan, her posture perfect, her legs crossed at the ankles.
Judas found his eyes veer towards the heiress. Everything about her screamed money and control.
But it was the way the morning light caught her platinum blonde hair that made it hard to look away. The ponytail pulled her features into sharp relief, highlighting the elegant curve of her neck where it met her collarbone.
Stop staring, you idiot.
Judas forced himself to look out the window, watching Vegas blur past. The system notification still hung in the corner of his vision like a death sentence.
[SUBQUEST ACTIVE - SURVIVE]
"You're quiet," Evie observed, her voice cutting through the silence. She shifted slightly, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. The tailored skirt rode up just slightly, exposing another inch of pale thigh before settling back into place.
His eyes betrayed him, just for a second.
When he looked up, she was watching him with an unreadable expression.
"Just thinking," he said, throat suddenly dry.
"About what?" She tilted her head.
"About how I ended up in a car with someone who wants me dead." He turned to face her fully, forcing himself to meet those hazel eyes. "And whether I should've just stayed in bed this morning."
Her lips twitched. "If you'd stayed in bed, I would've come to you anyway. This conversation was inevitable the moment I saw you defeat an A rank last night."
The mental image of Evie Ashford showing up at his apartment, all tailored suit and cold eyes in his shabby bedroom, made his face warm. He shoved the thought away.
"Right. The system." Judas leaned back against the seat, trying to look casual. "So what's the plan here? You interrogate me? Threaten me? Kill me if I give the wrong answer?"
"All of the above, potentially." Evie pulled out her phone, fingers dancing across the screen with practiced elegance. The movement drew his attention to her hands. Delicate wrists. Perfectly manicured nails. "Today will decide whether you're worth keeping alive, Mr. Crown. I suggest you make it count."
Judas laughed. The sound surprised even him.
Evie's eyes narrowed, and the ice in her gaze should have frozen him solid. Instead, it just made her dangerous and beautiful. "Something funny?"
"You." He gestured at her. "This whole cold, calculating heiress thing. The threats. The power plays. You're trying really hard to intimidate me."
"And it's not working?" She leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them.
He caught the scent of her perfume sweet like brown sugar.
"Not really." Judas shrugged, forcing himself to maintain eye contact even as his pulse quickened. "I've been broke my entire life. Failed out of more jobs than I can count. Life has a habit of beating me down. A pretty girl in a suit threatening me is far from the worst things I've had to deal with."
The word "pretty" slipped out before he could stop it.
Evie stared at him. A faint blush colored her cheeks, so quick he almost missed it. Her lips parted slightly, and he watched her tongue dart out to wet them before she seemed to catch herself.
Then her expression hardened again.
"You're either very brave or very stupid."
"I'm whatever you need me to be right now." Judas met her gaze without flinching, even as his heart hammered.
Evie's fingers tightened on her phone. For just a moment, she looked almost... flustered. Like she didn't quite know what to do with him.
"Very well," she said finally, her voice quieter than before.
The car pulled up to a towering building, all glass and steel. The Ashford logo gleamed above the entrance. Security guards in black suits flanked the doors.
Evie stepped out first, heels clicking against the pavement. Judas followed, and he definitely noticed the way her suit jacket emphasized her waist, how the pencil skirt hugged curves that her professional demeanor tried to hide.
Focus. She's deciding whether to kill you. Stop being an idiot.
But his eyes kept drifting anyway. The confident sway of her hips as she walked. The way her ponytail swished with each step.
They walked through the lobby without stopping. Employees moved aside, heads bowing slightly as Evie passed. She didn't acknowledge any of them, but Judas saw the way people looked at her. Respect. Fear. Admiration.
She commanded every space she entered.
The elevator was waiting, doors already open. Evie stepped inside, and Judas joined her. The doors slid shut with a soft hiss.
The confined space made everything worse. He was acutely aware of how close they were standing. The elevator wasn't small, but she'd positioned herself near the panel, which meant he was right behind her.
Close enough to notice how the skirt hugged her rear, the fabric stretching taut over the curve.
You are so fucked.
Instead of pressing a button, Evie pulled out a keycard and swiped it across a hidden panel. A number pad appeared, glowing faintly in the dim light.
Her fingers flew across the keys. 7-3-9-2-1-4.
The elevator jolted, not up but down.
Judas's stomach dropped as they descended, and he had to brace himself against the wall. His hand landed next to Evie's shoulder, caging her slightly.
She turned her head, looking up at him. Their faces were inches apart.
Neither of them moved.
Five floors. Ten. Fifteen. The digital display kept counting down, numbers falling faster than should be possible.
How could a pretty girl like her be such a plotting witch?
"Where are we going?" he asked, his voice rougher than intended.
"Somewhere very few people know exists." Evie's breath blew against his jaw. She didn't pull away. "The real Ashford operation isn't in the penthouses and boardrooms. It's below."
The elevator finally stopped. The number read B-27.
Judas pulled back first, the spell breaking. Evie straightened her jacket, and he could've sworn her hands were shaking slightly.
The doors opened.
Judas's jaw went slack.
The space before them was massive. Easily the size of an entire city block. The architecture was stunning, all polished marble and gold accents, with vaulted ceilings that stretched impossibly high. Chandeliers hung overhead, casting warm light across the pristine floors.
But it was the people who made him freeze.
Men and women moved through the space with purpose. Every single one of them looked dangerous. A woman with silver hair and eyes like a predator locked onto Judas for a split second as she passed. Her gaze was cold, calculating, and the system flickered above her head.
[RANK: A]
She dismissed him just as quickly, like he wasn't worth her time.
"Welcome to the Sanctum," Evie said, stepping out of the elevator. "The heart of hunter operations in the Ashford Guild."
Judas followed, suddenly very aware of how outmatched he was.
"Let me explain something," Evie continued, walking down the main corridor. She glanced back at him, making sure he was keeping up. "The gambling society has a strict hierarchy. Rankings from F to SSR. Each rank represents an exponential increase in power."
She gestured to a group of people training in a glass-walled room. "F-rank gamblers are barely above civilians. D-rank like yourself can handle basic combat. C and B ranks are where things get interesting. Real abilities. Real threats."
They passed another room where a woman was surrounded by floating cards that moved like knives.
"A-rank is where most hunters operate. Strong. Experienced. Lethal." Evie's voice was clinical, but she stayed close to him as they walked. "The gap between A and S rank is hundreds of times larger. An S-rank gambler could eliminate dozens of A-ranks without breaking a sweat."
"And S to SS?"
"Not even comparable." Evie stopped in front of a massive set of double doors. She turned to face him fully, and the intensity in her gaze made his breath catch. "SS-rank gamblers are treated like weapons of mass destruction. There are maybe twenty in the world. They can level city blocks. Alter probability on a massive scale. They're living disasters."
"And SSR?"
Evie's expression darkened, and she stepped closer. Close enough that he could see the concern bleeding through her professional mask. "A league of their own. Fortunately, we've never encountered one. The system classifications suggest they exist, but..." She reached up, touching her collarbone in what looked like an unconscious gesture. "Let's just say you should pray you never meet one."
Great. So I'm at the bottom of the food chain. Good to know.
"I thought you hated 'gamblers' yet you run an operation full of them. Why?"
"Because alone, I am no match for system bearers like yourself. We have a strict agreement. They protect our portion of Vegas, handling rival gamblers and the threats they pose, and we pay their paycheck. We get our money back because this prevents other gamblers like Marcus from rigging casino odds to their favor. A distasteful but…" she clicked her tongue, "efficient win-win situation."
The double doors opened.
Inside was an arena. A proper fighting ring with reinforced walls and observation decks. A man stood in the center, arms crossed. He was tall, lean, with short blonde hair and a scar running down his left cheek.
But what caught Judas's attention was the bored expression on his face. Like this was the hundredth time he'd done this exact thing.
"Miss Ashford," the man called out, not moving from his spot. "So this is the guy you found, huh? Doesn't look like much."
"Yes, indeed." Evie walked toward him, and Judas noticed the shift in her demeanor. The softness vanished, replaced by cold professionalism. "I want you to assess his abilities. Determine if he has the potential to further our cause or not."
Why is she acting like I don't get any say in this? Judas's jaw clenched. Breathe. This is just for the quest. If the objective is "survive," that means she could kill me at any point. She hasn't. Play her game, Judas. Play her game.
The man finally moved, stepping forward with the lazy confidence of someone who'd never lost a fight. "Name's Dillion Coast. S-rank hunter. Been doing this for twelve years." He yawned. "You're my fourth assessment this week. Hopefully you're more interesting than the last three."
"Judas Crown. D-rank nobody. Been doing this for about a week."
Dillion raised an eyebrow. "A week? And you're the guy that defeated Marcus?" He cracked his knuckles. His monotone expression shifted into a smirk. "Here's the deal, kid. We're going to spar. Not a full gambler duel, those require intent to kill and frankly..." He gestured at Judas dismissively. "You're not worth the paperwork. But I'm still going to come at you like I mean it."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then Miss Ashford will assume you're useless and you'll disappear." Dillion shrugged. "Though between you and me, I'd rather you try. Makes my job less boring."
Judas looked at Evie. She was watching him with that same calculating expression, but there was something else there now, almost anticipation. Her arms were crossed under her chest, unconsciously emphasizing the curves hidden beneath her professional attire.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them looked away.
Fuck it.
"Alright," Judas said, stepping into the ring. "Let's do this."
Dillion's smile widened. "That's the spirit."
The system interface flared to life.
[SPARRING BEGIN]
[JUDAS CROWN - RANK D: DAILY LUCK: 5(+1)/10]
[DILLION COAST - RANK S: DAILY LUCK: 4/10]
[VERDICT: DESPITE HIGHER DAILY LUCK, USER IS AT AN IMPOSSIBLE DISADVANTAGE.]
[SPARRING... BEGIN]