The Strongest Curse Master-Chapter 251: Climbing The Ranks

"Ace, why aren’t you eating?" Lola asked, noticing that his plate was still untouched. His face twisted in disgust as he watched Sonia and Scratchifer ferociously devour their fifth roasted suckling pig.

Ace barely suppressed the nausea. "Those two ruined my appetite. I blame myself for sitting across from them," he muttered, getting up from his seat and grabbing his plate.

The sight was disturbing. Sonia and Scratchifer tore into their meal like starving animals, their sharp teeth flashing in the warm candlelight. As a Werefur, Scratchifer was one of the many Cursedlings that like to kill its victims as gruesomely as possible such that negative emotions of their victims tainted their flesh preparing a tasty meal for themselves.

That’s why Sonia had specifically requested that her dish be prepared in the most brutal way possible. The dish, priced at twenty times the regular, was a luxury only available in high-end restaurants catering exclusively to Curse Users. They justified the price claiming torture was also an art form. Seeing how much the duo were loving their meal maybe they were on to something.

Scratchifer and Sonia were too engrossed in their meal to be bothered by the disgusted looks and comments from across the table, they tore into their meal like it was their last, letting out guttural, satisfied sounds with every bite. Ace, however, had seen enough. He walked to the far end of the table, as far away from them as possible, and settled into his new seat.

Lola followed him and took a seat beside him. For whatever reason, her actions remind him of the school canteen. Ace barely spared her a glance before asking, "Do you really like that innate curse tool that much?"

Ever since they met, she had been in her dinosaur plush curse tool. Currently, she was wearing it like a pair of pants. It gave her the bizarre appearance of a half-dino, half-human hybrid. And frankly, he found it cute.

The plush suit highlighted a side of Lola he thought she had long outgrown—a childishness buried under the weight of responsibility adding merit to the old saying: Children of the poor mature faster.

Lola didn’t answer Ace. She did not know how to. So she kept her head down, cutting into her steak in silence. But Ace understood that silence, she was scared. Currently, the only place she felt safe was inside that cute dinosaur plush.

Lola wasn’t someone who frightened easily, but the past few days had been hell for her. From being kidnapped to learning about the terrifying world of Curses, from awakening as a Curse Master by reliving her worst memories to actually living the scary world of Curses—she hadn’t had a moment to breathe. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d been hunted down by Curse Users one second and forced to hunt them the next.

She wasn’t used to such a life. Not yet. But watching Ace and Sonia adapt so quickly—fitting into this new world as if they’d always belonged—made her feel like she was already falling behind.

The C.I.B. had been a godsend for Sonia, a second chance for her family, and Lola refused to be the reason they lost it. The pressure was real. The rat race had already begun the moment Matthews mentioned they would all be in the same batch and receive priority training. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was lagging behind.

"You’ll be fine," Ace said, his voice steady and sure. Then, more softly, he assured, "We’re in this together."

Lola hesitated, then lifted her head. Their eyes met. Ace’s confidence was unwavering, and weirdly enough she found it infectious. She gave a small but genuine nod, then turned back to her steak and Ace went back to his smoked rib-eye.

Meanwhile, Evil Eyes—who had the misfortune of sitting next to Sonia—awkwardly reached out to pat her back, trying to get her attention.

Bad move.

Sonia’s head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing as she snarled, mouth still greasy from her meal.

Evil Eyes didn’t flinch and blinked unamused, trying to hide his disgust for her savage table-side manners.

"What?" she snapped, irritation thick in her voice. She hated to be interrupted in the middle of a meal

Evil Eyes ignored her attitude and gestured toward Ace and Lola with a subtle tilt of his head, advising, "Stop stuffing your face and use this time to befriend them. C.I.B. boot camp isn’t exactly a fun experience for Curse Slaves."

Sonia barely spared him a glance arguing, "I don’t care. I’ll take them all on."

Unfazed, she bit into another chunk of meat, as if she hadn’t just declared herself ready to fight the entire boot camp if that’s what it took to become a full-fledged C.I.B. agent.

Evil Eyes sighed stressing, "With your strength, I don’t doubt you’ll hold your own. But if you want better grades, you’ll need capable teammates. And let’s be real—not many Curse Masters will want to team up with a Curse Slave, no matter how strong you are."

That made Sonia pause.

Evil Eyes leaned back, watching her closely. He wasn’t just throwing empty words at her—he was giving her a warning. The discrimination against Curse Slaves in the C.I.B. was very real. If she wanted to get ahead of it, she needed to secure a few reliable allies now. Ace and Lola were her best bet.

Despite himself, Evil Eyes felt a flicker of admiration for Sonia. Most people in her position would have broken after what she went through on a daily basis—dying multiple times in the most gruesome ways imaginable.

It would have shattered anyone’s psyche. But not her. She was still standing. What impressed him even more was her Werefur curseling. Madam Scratchifer had stopped eating seeing her stop. Instead, the Curesling was waiting. Patiently. For her.

That was rare. Curselings and their Curse Slave partners sharing a meal was unusual enough. But for a curseling—not just any curseling, but a Werefur, one of the most savage, bloodthirsty species—to wait for its partner before continuing to eat? That was unheard of.

Evil Eyes wasn’t sure whether to be disturbed or impressed. Maybe both.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

"Why do grades even matter?" Sonia asked, impatiently tapping her fingers against the table. She was eager to get back to her meal, but the way Evil Eyes kept stressing over her grades made her pause.

It reminded her of her father. His voice echoed in her mind, firm and unwavering, echoing in her mind, ’Promise me you will top the C.I.B. boot camp.’

She hadn’t thought much about it before, but now that the question was out in the open, she figured she might as well understand why it was such a big deal. If she knew its significance, it’d be easier to focus on the goal.

Evil Eyes leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it clear he was serious, he began, "Your grades determine your rank when you officially join the C.I.B. as a special agent. With excellent grades, even a Curse Slave can secure a Supervisory rank."

Sonia’s brow twitched slightly at that.

"The C.I.B. might be the only place in the entire ’World of Curses’ and mortal where something as crazy as Curse Masters, regardless of their tier, collectively taking orders from mortals or Curse Slaves actually happens," he continued. "So, forget whatever grudge you have against that boy, stop envying the little girl, and do whatever it takes to befriend them."

His tone was blunt, almost cutting, but there was no malice behind his words—only a raw, unfiltered honesty as he advised, "Don’t waste this godsend opportunity. With them on your team, you might actually have a shot at joining the C.I.B. as a Supervisory Special Agent from the get-go. Instead of slaving around as a special agent for years. Doing so will help you climb to C.I.B. management ranks faster."

Evil Eyes couldn’t help but glance at Elinor as he spoke. Even though she was a McSuile—a direct-line descendant, no less—she had underperformed in boot camp.

Underperformed might be the wrong word since the competition in her batch was very fierce and Elinor wasn’t specifically easy to get along with because of her very uptight nature.

Regardless, No amount of influence could change her grades. In the end, she had to join the C.I.B. at the bottom, as a mere special agent.

He pitied her as ever since she left the McSuile house, society has been a cruel awakening to her with its brutal reality which was far from what she read and imagined within the walls of the McSuile household. It was like watching a princess trying to make it among commoners without her privileges.

Sonia followed his gaze, her eyes landing on Elinor. She was sitting with Janice, sipping drinks and casually ignoring her duties—because, of course, Delores and Evil Eyes were already handling them.

For someone as secretive and calculating as Evil Eyes, he sure was laying it all out there. But there was no denying it—he sincerely wanted her to succeed. To him, it seemed like getting into the C.I.B. meant more to her than life itself. And maybe, just maybe…If she was smart about it, she might actually pull it off—despite her shady background and her Curse Slave status.

A flicker of determination crossed Sonia’s face. With a sharp nod of acknowledgment to Evil Eyes, she reached for the service cart, grabbed the two untouched roasted suckling pig dishes, and made her way toward Ace and Lola.

As she walked, Scratchifer casually tilted her head back and swallowed what was left of the roasted suckling pig they were enjoying earlier—whole—in a single bite. The grotesque display made a few heads turn, but she didn’t care. She obediently followed after her master.

Reaching Ace, Sonia plopped one of the suckling pigs onto the seat next to him. Ace eyed the dish, then slowly turned his gaze to her, asking, "Are you picking a fight?"

Sonia scoffed, "No, you jerkwad. But if you are, I’m game."

Evil Eyes groaned and dragged a hand down his face, wondering if maybe—just maybe—he should have stayed out of it.