Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 791 Chapter 183.1 - Outer currents

Chapter 791  Chapter 183.1 - Outer currents

The images were intimate, carefully chosen to imply far more than what had actually happened: her hugging Astron tightly at the Spatial Gate station, another of her leaning into him at the Stellamare Museum, and the two of them entering a high-class hotel together. 
Scandalous, indeed—at least for those who didn't know the context. But instead of fear or panic, a wry smirk formed on Irina's lips as she scrolled through the pictures. 
"Well," she said, her tone almost amused, "you certainly went to a lot of trouble, didn't you?" 
The voice on the other end faltered slightly, as though caught off guard by her reaction. "Trouble worth taking," it replied, regaining its composure. "These photos would certainly make waves if they were released to the public. Your family, your reputation—it would all take a significant hit, wouldn't it?" 
Irina's smirk widened as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs casually. The glow from her communication device cast a soft light on her face, but her fiery amber eyes gleamed with amusement. She rested her chin on her palm, the picture of feigned nonchalance. 
"Oh, absolutely," she said, her tone light but edged with mock concern. "You're right. These photos are devastating. My poor reputation. My fragile family name. I'm positively trembling in fear." 
The voice on the other end hesitated again, the distorted quality unable to hide the flicker of uncertainty. "Mock me all you want, Miss Emberheart," they finally replied, their tone regaining its venomous edge. "But we both know these images would cause a stir if they were released. The Emberheart name would never recover." 
'Emberheart name? At least they've done their homework.' Irina thought, biting back a chuckle. 'Though, this really isn't the first time someone's tried something like this. I almost want to applaud the effort.' 
She straightened slightly, her smirk fading into an expression of mild curiosity. "Alright," she said, her voice softening into something closer to sincerity. "Let's say you're right. Let's say these photos could ruin me. What exactly are you proposing?" 
The voice didn't miss a beat. "100,000,000 Valer," they stated flatly. "Transferred to the account details I'll provide. In exchange, the photos disappear, and this conversation never happened." 
Irina whistled softly, her brows raising in mock astonishment. "Hundred million?" she echoed, her tone carrying just a hint of disbelief. "You don't mess around, do you?" 
"I'm not here to negotiate," the voice snapped, a touch of impatience creeping into their distorted tone. "This is a fair price for the silence I'm offering. Considering the damage these photos would do—" 
"To my reputation, my family name, my fragile social standing," Irina interjected smoothly, ticking off each point on her fingers. "Yes, yes, I got the idea. And tell me, how exactly did you decide on Hundred million? Is that the standard blackmail rate these days, or are you just feeling ambitious?" 
"Don't test me, Miss Emberheart," the voice warned, the threat hanging in the air. "You have twenty-four hours. Transfer the money, or these photos go public." 
Irina's smirk froze as the blackmailer's words echoed in her ears. For a moment, her amber eyes glinted with an unreadable emotion, but then her face turned cold, her expression hardening into something sharp and unyielding. The fire in her gaze burned brighter, but this time, it carried an edge of deadly resolve. 
"Fuck off, you son of a bitch," she said flatly, her voice cutting through the line like a blade. 
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The faint hum of her room seemed to fall silent, and for a second, there was no response from the other side. Then the blackmailer's distorted voice returned, now tinged with a mix of indignation and forced control. 
"You should mind your language," they hissed, their tone laced with menace. "If you want to preserve—" 
"I don't want to preserve anything," Irina interrupted, her voice rising in sharp defiance. "Do whatever you fucking want, you stupid rat. Do you really think you'll be left alive after pulling a stunt like this? You'll be burned alive." 
The blackmailer fell silent again, the air on the other end of the line thick with tension. Irina leaned forward, her fiery hair casting shadows over her face as her smirk returned, this time filled with venomous amusement. 
"Let me spell it out for you," she continued, her tone calm but dripping with contempt. "You're playing a game you're not equipped to win. You think you've got leverage? You think these photos mean anything to me? I've been in this position before, and guess what? I'm still here." 
The line crackled faintly before the blackmailer spoke again, their tone dripping with forced confidence. "Your bluff won't mean anything," they said, the distorted voice losing some of its earlier venom. "But since you really want to refuse, don't mind us if we're impolite." 
With that, the call abruptly ended, leaving Irina staring at the blank screen. The glow of her mana-imbued communication device faded, plunging her room into a quiet that felt heavier than before. For a moment, she didn't move, her amber eyes fixed on the device as her thoughts churned. 
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her fiery presence dimming as she exhaled slowly. 'They ended the call, huh?' she thought, her expression unreadable. 'Coward.' 
But beneath her defiance, a faint current of unease rippled through her chest. The reality of the situation was not lost on her. 'The moment those photos are revealed… things will take an irreversible turn.' 
Irina leaned back in her chair, resting her head against the cool wood as she stared at the ceiling. A flicker of anxiety danced at the edges of her mind, the what-ifs and possibilities pressing against her resolve. She could already picture the headlines, the whispers, the scandalous stories twisted out of context. It was the kind of attention that could ripple through her family, her reputation, and even Astron's. 
'And that,' she thought, her lips curling into a faint smirk, 'is exactly why I don't care.' 
Her amber eyes narrowed, her thoughts snapping back to the infirmary, to Maya's icy blue gaze, to the way the senior had stood tall despite whatever inner turmoil had gripped her. The memory burned bright, filling Irina with a renewed sense of determination. 
'If there's one thing I learned from that woman,' she mused, 'it's that hesitation is a waste of time. If I let fear control me, I'll never win.' 
She stood abruptly, pacing the room as her fiery hair swayed behind her. The faint light from her desk lamp cast flickering shadows on the walls, matching the storm of emotions swirling within her. There was fear, yes. But there was also exhilaration—a spark of rebellion that refused to be extinguished. 
"I won't be scared of some idiot with a voice modulator," she muttered, her tone sharp and decisive. "If they want to play games, I'll show them how it's done." 
Saying that she opened the Virtual Reality simulator. 
******* 
<Emberheart Family, Matriarch's Office> 
The room was cloaked in darkness, the faint glow of Emberheart flames flickering from the hearth the only source of light. The Matriarch sat at her desk, her hands folded before her, her amber eyes piercing through the gloom as she listened to Esme's measured voice. 
"Matriarch," Esme began, standing a few steps away, a slim tablet in her hand displaying a steady stream of reports. Her tone was calm, but the tension in her posture was impossible to miss. "Our forces have been holding their ground, but there have been complications." 
It has been two weeks since the Emberheart and Hawkins families began their clashes, but even in just two weeks, things have been rather hectic for both families. 
The Matriarch's gaze didn't waver, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Elaborate." 
Esme swiped at the tablet, pulling up the specific reports. "In Andelheim, we orchestrated a precise strike on their mana crystal refinement facility. It has been completely shut down, and their operations there are at a standstill. In Stellara, our agents intercepted a major shipment of alchemical reagents, cutting off a vital supply line for their potion manufacturing. And in Frostveil, we sabotaged their transportation network, leaving their goods stranded and vulnerable." 
The Matriarch's lips curled into a faint smile, the edges razor-sharp. "Good. And their distributors?" 
"Fearful," Esme replied, her tone colder now. "Our reputation precedes us, Matriarch. Several of their smaller distribution partners have already withdrawn from their agreements, citing concerns about retaliation. We've also pressured our own affiliated brands to sever ties with the Hawkins' products. Many have complied, though there are a few holdouts who may require… further encouragement." 
The Matriarch nodded, her expression unreadable. "And their allies?" 
Esme's lips tightened. "That is where complications have arisen. The Hawkins family has secured the support of the Ventorien family, the wind-affinity mages of the Mage Association." 
The Matriarch's eyes narrowed slightly, though her voice remained calm. "Ventorien? As expected of them. Their grudge with us has festered since my father put an end to their Patriarch. Petty vengeance, even after a century." 
Esme inclined her head. "Indeed, Matriarch. Their involvement complicates matters, but it does not yet present an insurmountable challenge. However, their influence within the Mage Association has caused a few of our contracts to be delayed." 
The Matriarch's gaze returned to the flickering flames. "Let them try. The Ventoriens will find that the Emberheart fire burns just as fiercely as ever. They are foolish to tie themselves to the Hawkins, but we will deal with them in due time. What of our own losses?" 
Esme hesitated briefly, then continued. "Initially, our progress was steady. However, our mages and personnel have recently reported encountering opposition of frost-aligned magic. These encounters have been increasingly coordinated and difficult to counter." 

The Matriarch's eyes sharpened instantly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Frostborne?" 
Esme nodded. "We suspect so, Matriarch. Their tactics and the mana signatures match those used by the Frostborne family." 
A dangerous glint entered the Matriarch's gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. "As expected of that kind," she murmured, her voice low and laced with venom. "They are still as sneaky as ever." 
Her fingers drummed against the desk, the faint sound punctuating the crackling of the flames. 
Esme's voice softened slightly. "What are your orders, Matriarch?"