I Die to Rise: Resurrection System-Chapter 92: The Anova Name!

Kurt rang the obnoxiously expensive-looking doorbell to Cassandra’s apartment, standing under the camera with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.

The intercom crackled, and Cassandra’s voice came through. "Kurt. What are you doing here?"

Kurt grinned up at the camera and waved. "Evening, love. Thought I’d drop by. See how my favorite ice queen’s doing."

There was a pause, then the door buzzed open.

Kurt stepped inside and took the elevator up, hands still in his pockets. When the doors opened, Cassandra was already standing in the doorway of her apartment, arms crossed, and the first thing Kurt noticed was what she was wearing.

She always dressed like a soldier, but it looked more formal and important. A military-style uniform with gold epaulets on the shoulders, tailored perfectly to her frame, buttons polished to a mirror shine.

It was the kind of outfit that screamed authority, legacy, and sex appeal, making Kurt forget whatever quip he had waiting, because bloody hell, she looked stunning.

Kurt’s next breath caught in his throat, his prepared joke evaporating. "Bloody hell," he muttered out loud instead.

Then he let out a low whistle, eyes roaming without a shred of shame. She was clearly ready to leave, and he had arrived just in time.

"You know," Kurt said, stepping through the doorway with that signature grin that had talked him out of more than one bad situation. "I thought we were getting somewhere back at the island. I wake up from a three-day nap, and you’re not even there to greet me. Bit rude, innit?"

Cassandra didn’t smile. "I’m glad you’re okay, but I have somewhere I need to be now."

"Glad, huh?" He sauntered deeper into the living room, still drinking her in.

She turned and walked deeper into the apartment, heels clicking against the hardwood floor, and Kurt followed as his eyes swept through the room.

The go-bag sitting on the dining table caught his attention. It was unzipped, contents spilling slightly out of the top.

He spotted C4 bricks packed neatly inside, detonators wrapped in cloth, and a folded-up blueprint poking out from the side pocket.

Kurt grabbed the blueprint and unfolded it, studying the layout. It was a map of a place called The Circle. Corridors, guard stations, holding cells, all marked with meticulous detail.

"Going somewhere?" Kurt asked casually, not looking up.

Cassandra stepped back into the living room, saw what he was holding, and snatched the blueprint from his hands. "Nothing to concern yourself with."

She dropped it onto the sofa beside her and turned away, heading toward another room.

Kurt leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her move. "Must be important. You’re dressed like you’re going to a formal event. Very posh. Makes a bloke wonder what kind of trouble you’re about to walk into."

Cassandra didn’t respond, just kept walking, but Kurt wasn’t done.

"You know," he said quietly, voice losing some of its playful edge, "I’ve got this thing for knowing when someone’s about to do something really stupid."

Cassandra stopped, turned slowly, and her blue eyes locked onto his. "Your thing must be broken then. Perhaps you should have it fixed."

She started toward the other room again, but Kurt moved fast, grabbing her arm before she could leave.

"Oh?" Cassandra’s voice went ice-cold as her lips curled into a sadistic grin. "It seems you have no more use for this arm."

She looked down at his grip, then back up at his face. Her breathing slowed. Her muscles relaxed, and Kurt saw it. That predatory calm and stillness. The way a cat went motionless before it pounced.

But Kurt didn’t let go. And his expression had changed too. No cheeky grin. No charming smile. Just a seriousness in his eyes that made Cassandra’s own narrow.

"What’s The Circle, Cassandra?" Kurt asked quietly. "And what are you planning?"

He held her gaze for a long moment, then added, "Whatever this is, I’m sure dragging along a right bastard who can’t stay dead would improve your odds considerably. Statistically speaking, of course."

He let go of her arm, and the grin returned to his face like flipping a switch. "Or maybe you fancy me too much now and don’t want to risk my wonderfully riskless life?"

Cassandra’s expression softened slightly, and she returned the grin, shoulders relaxing. "You look different. Stronger. I like it."

"Do I?" He shrugged, but he could feel it as well. "Must be all that quality napping."

She walked over to the sofa and sat down, gesturing to the chair across from her. "Have a seat, Kurt."

Kurt took off his trench coat, drapped it over the chair and dropped into it. Then he pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a flick of his lighter.

He took a drag, exhaled smoke, and leaned back comfortably. "Alright, love. I’m all ears."

Cassandra crossed her legs, hands resting on her knee. "Eli paid me a visit today."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "The Masquerade wanker?"

"Yes." Cassandra’s tone stayed neutral. "Riley, a former guildmate of ours, was arrested. Apparently she tried to force her way into the A-rank district and got thrown into The Circle."

Kurt took another drag, processing that. "Pray tell, why would the daft woman do something that monumentally stupid?"

"I do not concern myself with her reasons," Cassandra said coldly with no emotion. "Eli asked me to break her out. In exchange, he would tell me about the Masquerade you encountered at Bangrock Island, and why he was so desperate to open that volcano dungeon."

Kurt leaned back further, crossing one leg over the other. "So you’re doing this for the guild. And not because you give a bloody toss about your former guildmate?"

Cassandra’s left index finger twitched, and her grin widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Kurt caught something else beneath it. Guilt, maybe. Or regret. Hard to tell with her.

"She should have known her place. Her weakness and stupidity got her arrested," she said, still maintaining that detached tone.

"Right," Kurt murmured, studying her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "So why does Eli think you’re the one for the job? Why can’t he go play hero his bloody self?"

Cassandra’s expression didn’t change. "Because my family built The Circle."

That made Kurt pause, cigarette stopping halfway to his lips. He blinked once, then twice. "Say that again? Don’t think I quite heard it right."

"The Steins bought it off us a while back for their own sick, twisted reasons that do not concern me, " Cassandra continued dismissively. "But the Anova name still holds weight within those walls."

Kurt took a moment to let that sink in. It all began clicking into place now. The way she dressed. Her military-like discipline. The way she carried herself... the expensive apartment.

He’d always known she was rich, but he hadn’t realized she was rich rich. Old money. The kind of generational wealth that built prisons.

"So you thought you’d just put on your fancy outfit," Kurt said, gesturing at her uniform, "waltz in there, create a shitty diversion with that bomb over there, search for good old Riley just in time to rescue her, and be back in time for tea?"

Cassandra’s jaw tightened, her fingers drumming once against her knee before she caught herself, patience clearly running thin as she said, "you have a better idea?"

Kurt leaned forward, grabbed the blueprint from beside her, and unfolded it across his lap, studying the layout more carefully this time. "And what makes you think the Steins haven’t made modifications?"

"The Circle was designed to be perfect," Cassandra said. "Built around one of the dead zones of the world."

Kurt looked up. "I have a feeling I’m supposed to know what that is."

Cassandra nodded. "There are seven dead zones scattered across the districts. Once a person steps into a dead zone, they are unable to mold or cultivate essence. No abilities. No powers. Nothing."

Kurt grinned, leaning back in his chair again, cigarette burning between his fingers. "Well then. It’s a good thing I’m no regular hunter."

Cassandra’s eyebrow arched slightly. "Meaning?"

"Meaning my abilities don’t come from essence, love," Kurt said, tapping ash into an empty glass on the table. "They come from dying. And last I checked, dying works anywhere."

Cassandra studied him for a long moment, then her lips curved into something that might have been approval. "Perhaps you’re the right kind of insane I need."

"I’ve been called worse, so my pleasure," Kurt said, grinning wider. "But here’s the thing, love. You walk in there alone, it’s gonna be a right old shit show. You walk in there with me? We might actually pull this off... with a different idea from what you had."

He stood up, stubbed out his cigarette, and looked down at the blueprint one more time.

His eyes moved over it. Guard rotations. Exits. Dead zone boundaries. His mind already working, pieces falling into place, strategies forming.

"Cassandra," he said, meeting her eyes, "I believe I might have a plan."