Ethan and Jason stood in the entryway. The house was imnse, silent, and slled faintly of new carpet and expense.
"Alright, Jason, if you need to set up a periter or whatever you professionals do, go for it," Ethan said, stretching, feeling the familiar, lingering soreness from his aggressive session with Brooke. "I, however, need a shower. I feel a bit... sticky."
Jason knew exactly what he ant, and a faint, knowing smile touched his lips. Both n shared a brief, wry chuckle—a silent acknowledgnt of the chaos they’d just caused.
"Understood, Boss," Jason replied, stepping away from the professional line he’d just drawn. "I need to sweep the entire property. Inside, outside. Rooms, kitchen, patio, pool, courts. I’ll be looking for caras, hidden microphones, or any sort of electronic bug."
He pulled a small, outdated-looking radio from an inner pocket of his vest. "I’ll use the radio trick, Boss. If there’s a strong transmitter or microphone nearby, it creates a unique distortion pattern. It’s old-school, but effective."
"Go for it," Ethan said, heading toward the main staircase. "The place is yours for the next hour. Call if you find anything that isn’t a silver spoon."
[Seriously, radio trick?] the System scoffed as Ethan walked up the stairs. [What a dinosaur! You should get the ’Mystic Perception of the Nine Heavens’... oh wait. Never mind.]
"Just shut up, System" Ethan ntally shot back, heading towards the huge master bath. "I’ll worry about your expensive apps later. Jason’s technique is free and doesn’t require to win a popularity contest."
Jason began his thodical sweep. His eyes, now sharp and focused, took in the architecture. He didn’t just walk; he moved with the silent, fluid grace of a practiced hunter, his presence a dark, controlled shadow against the light marble floors. He ran his hand along the baseboards, tested the tension on door hinges, and, most importantly, listened to the static crackle of his radio.
He checked the spacious kitchen, running the radio near the high-end appliances. He moved out to the massive patio, checking the speakers and light fixtures. The pool area, the tennis courts—every inch was scrutinized with the precision of a man who had hunted in warzones.
Upstairs, he moved from room to room. He swept the bathrooms, the closets, and the air vents. The radio remained stubbornly static. The house was clean. Spotlessly clean.
Jason paused in a secluded area near the back periter. He held his breath, radio silent. He wasn’t relying on the electronics now; he was relying on pure instinct. The sa primal sense that had warned him about Alpha. He closed his eyes, focusing his decades of combat awareness. He tried to sense any residual presence from the mont they arrived. Nothing.
He nodded slowly. The house was secure. He knew why. Celestial Garden was an elite, private neighborhood. The security wasn’t just external; the association likely had a policy of respecting the privacy of its multi-million dollar clients. Spying on residents would ruin their reputation instantly.
They’re watching the periter, not bugging the couch, Jason concluded. Professional ethics, even for assassins, sotis provide security.
He descended the stairs just as the sound of the shower upstairs stopped, ready to report the property was physically and electronically clean.
Ethan appeared a mont later, freshly showered. He wore a crisp, casual shirt and had a small duffel bag hanging from his shoulder.
"Any silver spoons missing?" Ethan asked with a smirk, walking down the last steps.
Jason imdiately snapped to attention, reverting to his disciplined, military tone. "Sir, the property is secure. No surveillance devices, hidden caras, or electronic bugs were detected on the premises. The periter security of Celestial Garden appears to be professional and intact."
"Thank you, Jason. I appreciate the effort," Ethan replied warmly, relaxing. He gestured towards the duffel bag. "When I moved in, there was a surplus of clothes in various sizes left by the previous owner. I grabbed everything that looked a little large. Hopefully, sothing fits you. We can go shopping for proper clothes tomorrow if needed."
Ethan smiled, lying easily to avoid explaining that he had just moved in and how he had suddenly acquired 150 million to pay for the house.
[Wow, you’re becoming a professional liar!] the System mocked. [Soon you’ll even be able to say you’re not rock hard while holding your massive throbbing cock.]
"Do you have any money? Or an active bank account where I can transfer so funds so you can handle your own logistics without feeling like I’m babysitting you?"
Jason’s expression darkened slightly. "Unfortunately, no, Boss. I don’t."
"Alright, I’ll try to get to the bank tomorrow," Ethan mused. "I can set you up with a new card linked to my money, or perhaps a completely new account for transfers."
Jason imdiately shook his head. "Boss, my old accounts were completely frozen. That bastard Vincent used every dirty trick to seize my assets. It would be highly unwise for to appear on the bank’s radar again under my own na."
He explained his solution precisely. "The best course of action would be a Supplental Card. It would be linked directly to your principal account, but I could use it without your physical presence. We can set daily spending limits and control exactly how much money is available for my operational and personal use. That way, the link traces back to your legitimate wealth, not to a new, suspicious account under a false na."
Ethan stared at him, impressed by the tactical thinking applied even to finance. "A supplental card. Smart. You really do think of everything, Jason."
"It’s just protocol, Boss," Jason said simply.
Okay. Tomorrow morning, we’ll hit the bank before we go clothes shopping," Ethan said, then snapped his fingers, as if just rembering. "Almost forgot. We have to be at MIT by 10 AM, so don’t stay up too late. I have a eting with the dean to see if I can enroll after the deadline." He paused, then gestured towards the interior of the house. "For now, find a room, get so rest, and we’ll strategize the fall of Vincent Halbert over breakfast.
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