Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users-Chapter 235: You Can’t Bring That Here... That’s Classified Beyond—
Chapter 235: You Can’t Bring That Here... That’s Classified Beyond—
The man tried to speak, but his words twisted mid-air, scrambled into a mess of broken syllables and mirrored sounds.
The sigil Isabella had carved into the ceiling five hours earlier had already done its job. She didn’t wait for him to finish.
There was no need. She ended him mid-breath, smooth and unshaken, her blade sliding through air as if slicing fog.
It wasn’t about anger. It wasn’t about vengeance, or punishment, or even making them feel fear; those were side effects.
The truth was simpler than that.
She wasn’t here to make them suffer.
She was here to erase them.
By the time the room finally stilled, the space itself felt wrong. The air shimmered slightly near the edges of the walls, as if reality was trying to adjust, bending in ways it shouldn’t.
It wasn’t blood that dripped from the corners, nor heat that warped the air. It was something deeper.
Distortion.
The kind that came when a place no longer wanted to remember what had just happened inside it.
Isabella didn’t look back. She walked toward the table where she’d left her drink, picked up the glass, and took a single sip.
It was still cold. That made her smile, just faintly. She set the glass down gently, walked past the doorframe—now hanging at an odd angle—and paused only once as she crossed into the hallway.
There was one man left. He had been late. An outside runner. He must’ve arrived just after it started.
He crouched behind a half-broken doorway, eyes wide, trying to decide whether to run or fight. His hand twitched toward a sidearm, but it was far too late for that.
She raised her hand.
He dropped sideways before he could blink, the weapon still halfway out of his coat.
He wasn’t dead. But he wouldn’t remember anything either.
She stepped into the elevator at the end of the corridor. The doors slid closed behind her without a sound.
Up above, the city went on as usual. Traffic lights blinked, people walked, buildings breathed and buzzed like they always did.
No alarms. No panic. No headlines. The night absorbed the truth without even a ripple.
Back at the mansion, a quiet signal turned green on the vault’s internal console.
Lilith stood in front of it, perfectly still, watching the three blinking confirmations in front of her.
One underground bunker—melted down to slag. One urban pocket—cleared. One final node—untouched, for now.
Her eyes moved to the last mark on the map.
This one was buried deeper, protected by more layers, older names, and dirtier money. But it was perfect.
She didn’t call for anyone. Didn’t issue a single word of command.
She didn’t have to.
Because by the time she turned around, Seraphina’s beacon had already vanished from local tracking.
She was in orbit. The final strike had already begun.
The financial sector of Skyreach didn’t make a noise. It didn’t rely on flash or visible signs of wealth.
It was quieter than that—colder, too. It was the kind of power that didn’t raise its voice because it didn’t need to.
Tall towers stood behind frosted glass, clean but distant. The streets gleamed but never invited. No one lingered here. Not unless they belonged.
On the forty-second floor of the Alvire Consortium’s central tower, a quarterly review was in progress. freewēbnoveℓ.com
Twelve executives sat around a thick black table. Not all of them used their real names anymore.
Some had traded their identities long ago for access, for clearance, or for the kind of silence that came with deeper stakes.
The room itself was soundproof, sealed by biometric authentication—blood, breath, and a specific phrase spoken aloud. It was supposed to be unbreachable.
And yet, when the main monitor flickered just once, every single head turned.
Because Seraphina had arrived.
She didn’t burst in with bodyguards or an entourage. No noise. No threats. Just a slim silver case in one hand, and a flat folder in the other.
She walked to the empty seat at the head of the table and sat down without asking.
No one stopped her.
No one knew how.
She placed the folder on the table and opened it with one finger, revealing a plain white sheet of paper.
No charts. No colors. Just rows of numbers. Transaction logs. Account identifiers. Routing data.
At first, it appeared to be a standard report.
But then one of the older men on the left leaned closer, scanning a few rows. His posture shifted. He read another line. Then another. And something in his eyes changed.
"You can’t bring that here," he said, the words coming fast, urgent. "That’s classified beyond—"
"I don’t care," Seraphina said, her tone soft but final. Her voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.
"This money belonged to someone precious."
Another woman across the table leaned forward, brow furrowing as she flipped to the next page.
When she saw the next set of names, her lips parted slightly. Her fingers hesitated above the paper.
The second man—nervous, heavier built—half stood, his voice jittering as he tried to form a protest.
"You’re not even part of this system," he began. "You don’t have the right—"
"I said I don’t care," Seraphina cut in again, this time not even looking at him.
She pulled out a second page—a different kind of paper.
It wasn’t a report. It was a contract.
She slid it across the table. It reached the first man, the one who had spoken loudest. He looked at it, but didn’t touch it.
Seraphina didn’t pause.
She pressed her thumb against the biometric plate embedded into the table’s center.
The lights dimmed.
The screens on the side walls came to life. Each showed live feeds of account movement, currency flow, and transaction flags. Red circles started appearing.
One.
Then five.
Then dozens.
Each one was a freeze.
A full stop.
The system was being locked down from the inside, and every shell company the cult had used—every fake holding, every rerouted node, every proxy ledger—began to shut down in real time.
The nervous man tried to rise.
"I demand—"
He didn’t finish.
The air around him grew thick. Not hot, not cold. Just heavier. Denser. It pressed against his lungs.
A faint shimmer passed near him, like a ripple in glass.
He sat back down, eyes wide, fingers trembling slightly.
Read 𝓁atest chapters at fr(e)ewebnov𝒆l.com Only
