Night soon came fully claiming the coastline.
By ten o'clock, the grand hall buried deep within AXILE's coastal compound shimmered beneath cascading chandeliers. Marble floors reflected gold light like still water. Velvet-draped balconies overlooked the main chamber, and a raised platform at the far end stood prepared for whatever spectacle the hosts had in mind.
The guests were already seated.
French-tailored suits brushed against traditional garments from distant lands. Laughter rolled in controlled waves. Crystal glasses chimed softly. The air carried perfume, cigar smoke, and tension.
Near the grand entrance corridor, Dicoviche approached with deliberate calmness along with his two armed guards flanking him. His heavy boots echoed against the polished stone.
Halfway down the corridor, he encountered Rose.
She stood near a column, draped in dark silk, her expression was bland but her eyes were filled with sharpness. For a fleeting second, recognition flickered between them.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Rose said coolly.
Dicoviche gave a faint smile. "Nor did I expect you to still be breathing."
His guards stiffened at the subtle hostility. Hands shifted toward concealed weapons.
Suddenly, two AXILE sentries blocked the path.
"Invitation."
Dicoviche's men bristled, stepping forward—but Dicoviche raised a hand, stopping them without looking back. Slowly, he reached into his coat and produced a thick ivory card embossed with an insignia seal and an intricate crest pressed in crimson wax.
One of the sentries hesitated.
Moments later, the heavy double doors at the end of the corridor opened.
Raphael himself stepped out.
His presence silenced the hallway. Impeccably dressed, gaze calculating, he took the card without a word. His eyes scanned the seal, thumb brushing over the insignia as if weighing its history.
Several long seconds passed.
Then Raphael gave a subtle nod.
"Let him in."
The guards stepped aside immediately.
Dicoviche inclined his head slightly, a gesture that held no humility, and proceeded into the hall with his men trailing behind.
Meanwhile
Outside the compound, the long black limousine rolled through the final security gate.
Its doors opened under the watchful eyes of armed guards.
Tess and Maeve of whom were Raphael's special guards stood waiting. Both women radiated disciplined lethality under their elegant attire. Without wasting time, they motioned the girls forward.
"Stay in line. No wandering to where you aren't sought," Tess instructed.
The group of nearly fifty girls moved as directed, heels clicking against stone as they were escorted through illuminated corridors and into the grand hall.
Yunli walked naturally among them, posture relaxed, chin lowered slightly. She scanned the room through her lashes.
Scarlet stood near one of the VIP tables, her crimson dress unmistakable matching her code name.
Yunli adjusted her pace subtly, shifting behind two taller girls carrying champagne trays. When Scarlet's gaze swept across the newcomers, Yunli turned just enough, presenting only her dyed red hair and side profile.
Scarlet's attention moved on.
At this point it could be said that a small victory was already achieved, as a small hurdle had passed.
At the entrance to the hall, Duran a frail looking guy who apparently was one of Klaus's assigned trusted men stood waiting. Broad-shouldered and dull eyed, he examined each girl personally.
Hands checked wrists. Palms ran along arms and waists. Subtle devices scanned for metallic traces. His gaze lingered slightly longer on anyone who seemed too composed.
When Yunli stepped forward, she controlled her breathing. Her ability Poison Factor remained dormant but ready, her pulse steady thanks to a developed pill she received from the headquarters.
Duran's fingers pressed briefly against her wrist.
For a fraction of a second, he narrowed his eyes.
Before he could continue,
"Duran!" a voice barked sharply from inside the hall. "The guests are waiting! Why are the girls late?"
Murmurs of impatience echoed.
Duran clicked his tongue softly not hiding his Irritation then reluctantly stopped the search.
"Move," he ordered, stepping aside.
The line resumed.
Within minutes, the fifty girls dispersed gracefully through the hall as some pouring drinks, others seated beside influential guests, laughter rising in carefully cautious tones.
Yunli accepted a silver tray from a steward and blended seamlessly into the performance.
Music began to play with powerful figures across the hall, exchanging glances and pleasantries.
While many security personnels were at alert eyes glued to every area around them including movements of some of the less outspoken guests.
As midnight crept closer, Oscar stood near the back entrance of the small night bakery, tugging lightly at the stiff collar of his borrowed uniform.
He looked exactly like what he was pretending to be, a delivery boy, sent too late on an errand he didn't understand. A brown mail satchel hung at his side, his jacket a faded cream color with brass buttons polished just enough to pass inspection. Someone had even pinned a tiny decorative barrette to his cap, the sort of cute detail bakeries used for themed events.
Only his eyes betrayed him, as it expressed vigilance beyond measure.
Elise came out from the kitchen carrying the final crate. The scent of warm sugar and butter followed her like a promise.
Inside the crates were delicacies chosen specifically for high-end gatherings:
golden almond éclairs filled with saffron cream,
miniature rosewater macarons dusted with silver flakes,
dark chocolate truffle tarts glazed with mirror sheen,
and layered citrus mille-feuille cut into elegant bite sizes.
Party pastries meant to impress rich men and distract dangerous ones.
Halden leaned casually against the delivery van, lighting a cigarette like any tired driver waiting for late cargo. His coat was plain, his expression bored, but his eyes scanned every alley reflection.
"You two took long," he muttered, flicking ash aside. "Load up."
Oscar climbed into the back beside the crates while Elise sat up front. As the van pulled away, Oscar slipped a tiny ear plug into place, hidden beneath the brim of his cap.
A faint static crackled.
"Yunli," he whispered under his breath, pretending to check inventory. "Bakery goods en route. No interference yet."
Her voice came back low and controlled. "Copy. Guests are distracted. But Rose and one guy named Raphael are both inside. Be careful."
Oscar smiled faintly. "Always."
The van rolled through the private AXILE checkpoint roads, headlights cutting across trimmed hedges and silent stone statues.
As they approached the inner gate, Halden slowed.
Several figures walked across the road ahead, Japanese men in dark coats, their posture disciplined even in casual movement.
At their center walked Mahito having no guards beside him this time.
He stepped forward alone as the van stopped. The air seemed to tighten around him, as if even the night held its breath.
Halden lowered the window politely. "Bakery delivery for the hall."
Mahito didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted to the open rear doors.
Then he walked forward, unhurried.
Oscar felt the hair on his body stand at the appearance of Mahito.
Mahito reached into one crate and picked up a small rosewater macaron between his fingers.
He studied it like an artifact.
"French sweets," he said quietly, voice calm. "So delicate."
He took a bite, For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Mahito smiled faintly.
"Go on," he said, stepping aside. "They're waiting."
Oscar lowered his head respectfully, but his pulse had quickened. Through the hidden ear plug he murmured—
"Yunli… the Japanese leader is here. Alone. And something about him feels wrong."
The van rolled forward into AXILE's inner grounds.
Ahead, lights blazed.
And the night deepened around them.