Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 790 Chapter 182.6 - Let's have a talk

Chapter 790  Chapter 182.6 - Let's have a talk

Seraphina stared at the door long after Astron had left, her silver eyes locked on the space he had occupied mere moments ago. The frost on the table remained, a stark reminder of her frustration. Her fingers tapped against its icy surface in a rhythm she didn't even notice, her thoughts churning as she tried to piece together what had just transpired. 
'Did he… just reject me?' 
The thought was sharp, cutting, as if it didn't belong in the same realm as her reality. Seraphina Frostborne, heir to one of the most powerful mage families, had just been defied outright. 
Her silver eyes narrowed, her tapping fingers stilling as her mind replayed the encounter in vivid detail. His calm demeanor, his unflinching gaze, the way he had dismissed her frost as if it were no more than a passing chill—all of it clashed with her understanding of people. 
'Doesn't he care about Irina? Doesn't he realize the consequences of his refusal?' 
She clenched her hand into a fist, the frost intensifying momentarily before she forced herself to relax. But the questions wouldn't stop, spiraling through her mind like an endless storm. 
'He should have cared. He should have folded. I gave him every reason to comply.' 
Seraphina leaned back in her chair, her smirk long gone, replaced by a thoughtful, almost troubled frown. 
'Did I miscalculate?' 
The possibility was as foreign as it was unwelcome. She prided herself on her ability to read people, to predict their actions, and to manipulate their weaknesses. But Astron… 
'He's either a fool or something far more dangerous.' 
Her fingers resumed their rhythm, slower this time, the tapping a reflection of her inward struggle. She had been so certain that he cared for Irina, that his actions would be driven by a desire to protect her. And yet, he had walked away, calm and resolute, as if her threats were little more than noise. 
'Could he be selfish?' 
The thought lingered, unwelcome but persistent. Perhaps she had misjudged him entirely. If he didn't care about Irina—or anyone else, for that matter—then her leverage was meaningless. 
'But no… that doesn't make sense,' she countered herself, her silver eyes narrowing further. 'If he were truly selfish, he wouldn't have built such a bond with her. Irina isn't the type to invest in someone who doesn't reciprocate.' 
The more she thought, the more tangled the web became. Her evaluation of Astron was fracturing, the conclusions she had drawn suddenly feeling shaky, incomplete. 
'Have I underestimated him? Overestimated him? Or am I simply missing something?' 
She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the frosted table, her fingers steepled as she stared down at the photographs still spread before her. Irina's smile, her relaxed posture near Astron—they told a story, one that didn't align with the man who had just walked out of the room. 
'Is there really something that I don't know?'  
The thought stung, and for a moment, her fingers stilled against the frosted table. Her sharp mind, honed through years of calculated maneuvers and intricate social games, couldn't grasp the gaps in this encounter. And that sting—the bitter taste of an unanswered question—only fueled the fire burning within her. 
Slowly, her eyes drifted from the photographs to the frost spreading faintly across the edges of the table. She clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm as anger surged within her. 
'Besting me twice… First Irina, now him.' 
The memory of Irina's rise still grated against her pride, a wound that had yet to heal. And now Astron, with his calm defiance, had reopened it, cutting even deeper. 
'It's infuriating,' she thought, her teeth clenching as her emotions surged. 'He dares to reject me, to walk away as if I'm nothing?' 
The frost around her pulsed faintly, spreading further across the surface of the table. She stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor with a sharp, jarring sound. Her hand brushed against the table's edge, the frost crackling faintly beneath her touch. 
'Fine,' she thought, her anger coalescing into a cold, sharp resolve. 'If he wants to reject me, then it's time for him to face the consequences.' 
She turned sharply on her heel, her silver hair trailing behind her like a cascade of frost, and began walking toward the exit. Before she left, she paused near the counter, reaching into her coat pocket. She pulled out a few neatly folded bills, her movements brisk and precise. 
The cafe owner, a middle-aged man with a calm demeanor, took the money silently, a faint smile crossing his lips. He glanced at the faint frost still lingering in the air and offered her a polite nod, as if to acknowledge the unspoken arrangement. 
Seraphina said nothing, her eyes glinting coldly as she turned and stepped out into the bustling streets. The warm sunlight contrasted sharply with the frost still clinging to her aura, a testament to the storm brewing within her. 
Her strides were purposeful, her thoughts racing as she made her way back to her room. 
'Let him see what happens when you cross me,' she thought, her resolve hardening with each step. She had lost too much already—her rank, her standing, and now her pride. And she would ensure that Astron Natusalune paid the price for daring to challenge her. 
Seraphina stormed into her room, the door closing with a sharp click. The sunlight streaming through the windows did little to thaw the icy aura surrounding her. Her silver eyes glinted with a cold, calculated fury as she moved toward her desk, her strides purposeful. 
Sitting down, she reached for her smartwatch, her fingers moving with precision as she pulled up the contact list. 
Seraphina tapped her smartwatch, scrolling through her contacts until she landed on a name: Vex Media, a small but ambitious agency with a penchant for stirring the pot. They were new, eager, and most importantly, desperate to establish themselves in a cutthroat industry. Their willingness to take risks made them the perfect tools for what she had in mind. 
She initiated the call, and it connected within moments. A bright, eager voice answered. "Miss Frostborne! An honor as always. What can we do for you today?" 
Seraphina's lips curled into a faint smirk, her voice smooth and composed despite the cold fury simmering beneath. "I have something for you. Exclusive content. Pictures." 
The person on the other end audibly perked up, their tone shifting to one of barely contained excitement. "Pictures? Exclusive? Tell me more." 
"I want these shared." 
There was a brief pause, then the voice on the other end spoke again, laced with enthusiasm. "Of course, Miss Frostborne. Consider it done. With your name behind this, we'll make sure it gains traction immediately." 
Seraphina's smirk deepened, though her tone remained icy. "Good. I'll send you the materials shortly. And a word of advice—be thorough, but subtle. If this blows up too quickly, people will start asking questions." 
"Understood. You can count on us." 
She ended the call and leaned back in her chair, her fingers brushing against the smartwatch as she uploaded the pictures to Vex Media's secure dropbox. As the files transferred, her mind worked over the next steps, the possible outcomes, and the eventual fallout. 
'They'll think I'm backing them,' she mused, her smirk sharpening. 'And why wouldn't they? The Frostborne name is enough to make anyone believe they're untouchable.' 
But she had no intention of keeping ties to Vex Media once their usefulness ran out. They were expendable, a means to an end. When the backlash inevitably came, she would simply step away, her hands clean, while the fledgling agency bore the brunt of any repercussions. 
The files finished uploading, and Seraphina sat back, exhaling slowly. The frost in the room began to dissipate as her anger subsided, replaced by cold satisfaction. 
'Let's see how you handle this, Astron,' she thought, her silver eyes narrowing. 'And when the dust settles, we'll see if your composure still holds.' 
She rose from her chair, her movements deliberate and poised. The game was in motion, and she would watch as her carefully laid plans unraveled the facade Astron had so confidently upheld. If he thought he could defy her without consequences, he was sorely mistaken. 
Though little she know, in the dorm room that is right beside her, a talk of the same content had been happening. 
***** 
Irina kicked off her boots with a satisfied sigh, her fiery hair cascading over her shoulders as she stretched. The soft hum of her room's mana-infused lights filled the space with a calming glow, and she felt the weight of the day's lectures slipping away. She glanced at her gaming console sitting idle on her desk, a small smile tugging at her lips. 
'It's been too long,' she thought, reaching for the headset. 'Time to unwind. Finally.' 
But just as she was about to power on the console, her mana-imbued communication device buzzed on her desk, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. Irina frowned, her amber eyes narrowing slightly as she picked up the device. She hesitated for a moment before swiping to accept the call. 
"Who is this?" she asked, her tone sharp but curious. 
A distorted voice crackled through the line, low and mechanical, clearly altered to disguise the caller's identity. "Miss Irina Emberheart. A pleasure to finally speak with you." 
Irina's brows furrowed, her posture stiffening as she sensed the tension behind the words. "And who exactly are you?" she demanded, her voice edged with suspicion. 
The voice chuckled, the sound grating and hollow. "Who I am isn't important. What I have, however, is." 
Before she could respond, her communication device vibrated again, this time with an incoming file. Irina opened it cautiously, her amber eyes narrowing as a series of photos appeared on the screen. 
Her heart skipped a beat, but only for a moment. 
'Heh….'