The Incubus System Chapter 720. Hard Bargain I
Mrs. Clea's PoV
Mrs. Clea stood in the heart of the high official room with a sense of anticipation. Monitors, sleek and modern, surrounded her, displaying flickering images of shadowy figures perched high above. Their intense gazes bore into her, their eyes penetrating, as if they could see into her very soul. It was an intimidating sight, no doubt, but sohow Mrs. Clea had grown accustod to it over ti.
Dressed in her demon hunter uniform, Mrs. Clea exuded an air of authority. Long silver-streaked hair frad her face, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of determination and caution.
The room fell silent as one of the shadowy figures spoke up. "I must admit, I was taken aback when I heard you had a change of heart and decided to lend your support to the Angel Creation Project," they said, their tone laced with a mix of surprise and skepticism.
The project itself had been given the code na "Angel Creation Project" by the senators, a rather grandiose title for what essentially boiled down to transforming a demon hunter nad Renart into an angelic being capable of eradicating all demons. However, since Renart's untily demise, their attention had shifted to a new candidate— his son, Ethan.
Mrs. Clea plastered a smile on her face, but her words conveyed a different sentint altogether. "Oh, trust , I'm just as shocked as you are that I've co to this decision," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Unlike Nathan, who maintained a polite deanor when dealing with the senators, Mrs. Clea had reached her breaking point. She had grown tired of their antics and gas. Fortunately, she held a few trump cards of her own, which allowed her to maintain her position and wield so influence despite the countless clashes she had endured with them.
The room seed to bristle with tension as another silhouette, clearly annoyed by Mrs. Clea's response, chid in, their voice dripping with disdain. "Always rude, aren't you? It's quite apparent that you have no idea where you stand," they retorted, their words laced with irritation.
A third figure joined the conversation, their voice tinged with a touch of condescension. "You could learn a thing or two from that young Nathan boy. Despite his tender age, he knows how to play his part and control his emotions, even when he finds the situation distasteful," they remarked, their words carrying a hint of admiration for Nathan's composure.
Mrs. Clea maintained her friendly smile, but her response held a touch of biting sarcasm. "Oh, please, spare the comparison to that inexperienced newbie," she shot back, her tone infused with a mixture of mockery and amusent. "While he may excel at uttering 'Yes, sir' to you, I happen to have a few more cards up my sleeve."
Mrs. Clea's sarcasm was t with an eruption of laughter that reverberated throughout the room. The mocking sound echoed off the walls, filling the space with a sense of intimidation as if everyone present suddenly felt small in comparison. But despite the overwhelming atmosphere, Mrs. Clea remained unperturbed. She had grown accustod to such reactions over ti. After all, ascending to the position of chairwoman in this demon hunter association required a resilient and unwavering ntal fortitude.
The laughter subsided, giving way to a tense silence. It was in this quiet mont that one of the silhouettes spoke up, their voice dripping with discontent. "Let's not beat around the bush, Clea. We all know that whatever knowledge or influence you possess is inconsequential to us. It is only by our rcy that you still retain your position," they stated, their words laced with bitterness and a touch of superiority.
Mrs. Clea tilted her head, her gaze fixed on the figure that had dared to challenge her. With a hint of cynicism in her voice, she replied, "Is that so? You truly believe that, do you?" Her tone suggested a mixture of disbelief and amusent as if she found their assertions both preposterous and predictable.
Another silhouette interjected, their voice laced with irritation. "How dare you address us in such a tone!" they exclaid, their words dripping with displeasure.
" Should we do a thing or two to teach you a lesson? So, you'll rember that you shouldn't talk like that!" another added.
Mrs. Clea let out a chuckle, a sound that held a touch of amusent, almost as if she found their empty threats comical. But as quickly as the laughter escaped her lips, her expression hardened once more, her eyes glinting with a steely resolve.
A defiant sneer curved her lips as she retorted, her voice laced with a mix of mockery and defiance. "You guys always talk about teaching a lesson, but when push cos to shove, you never follow through," she shot back.
One of the silhouettes, consud by anger, was ready to unleash his fury upon Mrs. Clea, but their fellow companion swiftly intervened, urging them to cease their pointless quarrel. "Enough of this nonsense! I have no ti nor interest in indulging in useless bickering," she declared, her tone exasperated and impatient.
A sense of montary calm settled over the room as the wiser voice prevailed. The figure flicked her gaze toward Mrs. Clea, her eyes searching for answers. "Let's get back to our discussion and exercise so restraint," she suggested, their words carrying a semblance of wisdom. "And what about you, Clea? What do you have to say? I highly doubt you would readily agree to our proposal just like that," she inquired, their tone a mixture of curiosity and skepticism.
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