Chapter 812: A Seemingly Safe Bet! A Mental Problem, Nightingale?
"What are you all discussing? Why not let me in on the secret?"
The air in the Rhodes Island conference room rippled, and Ren materialized out of thin air, stepping onto the polished floorboards as casually as if he had just returned from a leisurely stroll.
Amiya's long rabbit ears shot straight up, her shoulders jumping in a violent startle at his sudden arrival. Kal'tsit and Theresa, however, didn't even bat an eye. They were already far too accustomed to his ghostly teleportations.
W, on the other hand, reacted instantly.
The moment Ren's voice echoed in the room, the Sarkaz mercenary's body moved on pure instinct. She slid smoothly across the floor, planting her boots firmly in front of Theresa and acting as a physical shield to completely block Ren's line of sight to the Sarkaz King.
"W, why do I get the distinct impression you aren't happy to see me?" Ren asked, a lazy, teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what was eating at the mercenary, but poking the bear was simply too entertaining to pass up.
Silence would have been her best defense. But the moment the words left his lips, W's composure shattered.
Her crimson eyes flared with hostility. She ground her teeth together so hard they squeaked. "You... you absolute bastard!" she hissed, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Why did you lay your filthy hands on Her Highness?!"
Theresa, peering out from behind W's shoulder, blinked at Ren with an apologetic smile. She had absolutely no idea how to appease W's fanatical obsession with her purity.
Ren didn't take offense. Instead, he let out a low, amused chuckle. "Shouldn't you be asking Theresa about that? I merely fulfilled a request she made of her own free will."
W choked on her next breath, her face flushing crimson with frustration. Of course, she knew that. She just couldn't stomach the bitter reality that she had failed to protect Her Highness's sanctity from this shameless man.
"In short, we'll solve our own problems!" W snapped, glaring daggers at him. "You can do whatever you want to me, but you are absolutely not allowed to involve Her Highness Theresa ever again!"
Ren didn't even bother arguing with her. He simply tilted his head, bypassing the furious mercenary entirely to lock eyes with the woman behind her. "Theresa, what do you think?"
Theresa stepped out from behind her self-appointed bodyguard, her expression serene but firm. "I am sorry, W. Mr. Ren and I have already made an agreement, and I cannot break my word so lightly. That goes against my principles and my beliefs."
Panic flashed across W's face. She reached out, desperate to argue. "But Your Highness—!"
"W," Theresa interrupted, her voice gentle but carrying an obvious weight. "Do you truly wish for me to become someone who breaks her promises the moment they become inconvenient?"
That single sentence was like a physical blow, piercing straight through W's emotional armor. The Her Highness Theresa she worshipped, the woman she would die for, was precisely this sincere, gentle, and unwavering figure.
W's shoulders slumped. She lowered her head, the fiery mercenary suddenly looking like a scolded child who had broken a priceless vase.
"I have a suggestion," Ren drawled, breaking the heavy silence.
W's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What kind of bet?"
Ren casually raised a single finger. "I'll give you exactly one hour. You can use any method you like, pull out every trick in your arsenal. If you can make me finish just once within that time limit, the debt Theresa owes me will be completely written off."
W's eyes widened, a sudden spark of hope igniting in her crimson irises. Was there really such a massive loophole? She wasn't built for prolonged battles of endurance, but if it was just a single hour? Giving it her absolute all in a short, explosive burst? She was highly confident she could wring this arrogant bastard dry.
Still, her mercenary instincts demanded caution. She squinted at him, searching for the trap. "And what happens if it's not achieved in one hour?"
"If you fail," Ren's smile widened into a predatory grin, "the stakes increase. From that moment on, both of you will belong to me."
The sheer audacity of the demand hung in the air. W stared at the man, utterly convinced she was looking at a textbook pervert. If it were just her own body on the line, she would have accepted the terms in a heartbeat. But this involved Her Highness.
She turned her head, looking at Theresa with deep hesitation.
Theresa let out a soft, elegant sigh. "Mr. Ren, this was originally my promise to bear. It is not my wish for things to escalate like this." She paused, her eyes meeting Ren's with a resolute gleam. "So, please add me to the bet. May I also take on this challenge alongside her?"
"Of course. No problem at all," Ren agreed instantly, shrugging his shoulders. One more beautiful woman throwing herself at him made absolutely no difference to his ultimate victory.
W stood frozen, her jaw practically hitting the floor. "Her Highness Theresa... what are you doing?!"
Theresa raised a slender hand, gently stroking W's silver hair to soothe her panic. "W, we are the ones in the wrong regarding this matter. It is only right that I share the burden."
W fell silent, leaning into the gentle touch. A moment later, she lifted her head, her eyes burning with absolute resolve. "Your Highness, please do not worry. We will definitely win this bet!"
She spun around, grabbing Ren's sleeve. "Let's go!" she demanded, fully intending to drag him back to her quarters right that second.
Ren didn't budge an inch. He planted his feet, looking highly amused. "Don't be in such a rush. That kind of intense activity is much more romantic at night."
He gently pried her fingers off his sleeve and turned his attention to the other side of the room. "Let's talk business first. What have you decided regarding our previous discussion?"
He directed the question at Kal'tsit and Amiya, who had been quietly observing the entire chaotic exchange.
Amiya's cheeks were dusted with a heavy layer of pink, having fully understood the explicit nature of the 'bet' they were just discussing. She fidgeted with her sleeves, clearly out of her depth.
Kal'tsit, ever the stoic professional, stepped in to rescue the young leader. "Yes. We have evaluated the pros and cons of your proposal, and we have reached a decision. Amiya, our leader, will explain the details to you."
The Feline medic gave the Cautus girl a subtle, encouraging nod.
Taking a deep breath, Amiya composed herself. She patted her flushed cheeks, forcing her expression into one of serious, professional determination. "Mr. Ren, we want to begin with an internal trial here at Rhodes Island. We hope you can treat some of our personnel who are suffering from severe, late-stage Oripathy."
The reasoning behind their decision was complex. The sudden, miraculous disappearance of Originium from a patient's body would send massive shockwaves across the entire continent of Terra. It was an uncontrollable variable., Rhodes Island's leadership could not forcefully dictate the futures and bodily autonomy of their operators.
Thus, they had settled on an internal, voluntary plan.
Ren possessed the absolute means to cure Oripathy. Rhodes Island, unfortunately, housed many patients standing on the very brink of death due to the infection. Since Ren required a specific 'price' for his miracles, they decided to offer the choice directly to the afflicted. They believed that, given the desperate circumstances, there would always be someone willing to pay that price in exchange for their life.
Their core philosophy remained unchanged: save as many lives as possible, by any means necessary.
Ren wasn't particularly surprised by their pragmatic approach. However, a spark of curiosity flickered in his eyes.
"So, are there truly people here willing to give up absolutely everything just to be cured of Oripathy?"
Amiya and Kal'tsit exchanged a heavy glance before nodding in unison.
"Yes," Amiya said softly. "And... quite a few people are willing to try."
They had already conducted top-secret, closed-door meetings with select personnel, demonstrating the miraculous recoveries of operators like Blaze and Gravel. Seeing the obvious proof of a cure, several individuals had already made their choice without hesitation.
Suddenly, Amiya's long rabbit ears perked up again. A thought seemed to strike her, and she looked up at Ren with a cautious, hopeful gaze. "Um, Mr. Ren... I actually have another question."
"Go ahead."
"Besides curing Oripathy... do you also treat severe physical trauma? Problems with missing organs, or... deep mental and psychological damage?"
Ren chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "No problem at all. I can literally pull souls back from the afterlife and revive the dead. Isn't there a living, breathing example standing right next to you?"
Amiya blinked, looking over at Theresa. Right. Sister Theresa had been completely resurrected from the grave.
"S-sorry, I really asked a foolish question," Amiya stammered, scratching the back of her head with an embarrassed, sheepish smile.
Reaching into her coat, she pulled out a thick, sealed confidential file and handed it across the table.
"This is the first patient who volunteered," Amiya explained, her tone dropping into a somber register. "She is a very special case. She suffers from severe physical debilitation and deep mental trauma."
Ren took the manila folder and flipped it open.
Clipped to the first page was a photograph. It showed a young woman sitting in a wheelchair. She had pale, golden-white skin and flowing blonde hair, but her eyes were completely empty—hollow and devoid of any light or focus.
Protruding from her head were a pair of pitch-black, jagged horns, a stark indicator of her Sarkaz lineage. The dark, demonic horns contrasted violently with her unusually beautiful, almost sacred and ethereal appearance.
A pure white demon.
That was perhaps the only accurate way to describe the fragile girl in the picture.
The moment Ren saw the photograph, he already knew exactly who she was.
Just as the bold lettering on her medical file stated, her codename was Nightingale.
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