Ch. 156..160: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 156-160
Chapter 156: The Other Grandpa
A massive thundercloud floated above Central City, capturing the attention of many. But they quickly realized the chaotic superpower particles swirling inside—this was some Peculiar’s doing!
Beneath the storm, Lyra faced countless lightning strikes that charred the ground around her. Many Levs and buses rushed to a halt, colliding and causing a series of accidents.
The patrol sergeant clenched his teeth in frustration. ’How can these military madmen create chaos in my area?’
"First, handle the accidents and evacuate the crowd!"
Lyra sprinted down the street, psychokinesis swirling around her. Schedar moved in her hands like it had a life of its own, blocking the lightning strikes coming from all directions.
Each hit felt like a hammer on her head; the gap between level six and level eight was way too vast.
Before long, she sensed her psychokinesis faltering, her body growing weary from the overload.
Ansel stood atop a high building, watching the small figure that seemed impossible to defeat.
He waved his hand, sending down even more furious lightning that slammed her against the wall. The residual arcs grazing her body, causing her to shudder.
Ansel’s eyes were cold and calm as he decided to end it quickly.
Suddenly, a flash of crimson light shot toward him, triggering a sense of danger. He swiftly raised his hand, hurling a lightning ball to counter it.
Rapid fire struck him, the level eight power forcing him to split his focus.
’What’s happening?’ Ansel was astonished.
According to intel, the bodyguards Lyra hired should have been stopped by his men—so why was there still support?
’No, wait...’ Ansel looked closer and found that was a superpower-enhanced weapon.
On the rooftop, Morrison aimed through his scope, holding a superpower-enhanced gun. Lyra had given him good equipment.
The thunder overhead rumbled; the opponent was too strong.
Morrison immediately jumped out the window to escape.
In the next moment, a thunderbolt struck the building, shrouding it in darkness before it collapsed. After dealing with the sniper, Ansel realized Lyra was gone.
On the wide, chaotic street, a silver-armored figure sped forward. Lightning rained down behind her as she jumped and flipped, pushing her last reserves of strength.
Ansel grew impatient—he had been outsmarted by Lyra! She had intentionally taken the hit, waiting for his men to delay him before making her escape. Even he could not catch up now.
"But do you think you can escape like this?" Ansel muttered darkly into his earpiece. "She’s heading to the spaceport."
As the spaceport gates came into view, two familiar figures blocked the way—the Shedd family seniors.
Their clothes billowed in the wind, their eyes filled with regret and pity for their younger counterpart, yet their actions were decisive and fierce, fueled by superpower particles.
Lyra gripped a miniature bomb tightly—this was her last gamble!
The bomb had enough power to breach the level eight Peculiar’s defenses, and she had Schedar for protection and healing, provided she didn’t get knocked out. As for the lives of those nearby, she decided not to care.
If they died and needed someone to haunt, they should go find the Shedds.
Just as Lyra was about to press the button on the bomb, a sharp knocking sound echoed through the air, followed by a strange wave of sound that radiated outward.
The glint in the eyes of the two seniors dimmed, and they opened their eyes wide in shock, clearly stunned by the unexpected blast.
Lyra’s surprise was brief; she quickly dashed into the spaceport.
Ansel, no matter how bold he was, dared not create chaos here. Watching the silver figure slip inside only fueled his anger.
His gaze landed on an old man with white-streaked blond hair standing on a nearby rooftop.
He was in a long, dark blue aristocratic outfit, a layered cravat around his neck, and a rose pinned to his chest.
He leaned on a cane intricately carved with rose vines. Despite the wind tousling his hair and giving him an air of weariness, he stood tall and dignified.
Ansel’s expression darkened as he sneered, "Calvin, must you always interfere and ruin my plans for my family?"
Benedict Calvin smiled faintly, his wrinkles adding to his elegance. "I couldn’t save my daughter then, but I won’t let my granddaughter fall victim to your family. Even if it costs me everything."
With the military’s power on the rise, the government sustaining the Alliance had become almost unshakeable, leading to the slow decline of old nobility like the Calvin family.
Conflicts with the Empire and the Alliance’s expansion had put many territories under military control, forcing even the Marquis of Roses to tread carefully—otherwise, he wouldn’t just let his daughter die.
"Sounds good," Ansel said, gathering a lightning ball in his palm and tossing it casually. "So you want to hand the future of the Calvin family over to that young woman?"
Benedict struck his cane again, unleashing sound waves that shattered the incoming lightning. "That child has her own future; the Calvin family has ours. I just can’t bear to see her hurt." He cast a glance at Lyra standing at the spaceport entrance.
A hint of sadness and regret flickered in the old man’s eyes. "As her useless grandfather, I should at least try to help."
With a deep sigh, he turned and walked away. Lyra didn’t see him, but she recalled the presence that had saved her moments before.
After hesitating for a moment, she stepped inside the spaceport.
Inside, travelers crouched in fear, covering their heads from the "threat" outside. The spaceport patrol blocked the entrance, weapons raised, shouting, "Who are you?!"
Lyra raised her hands, coughing dramatically. "Cough, cough! I’m a refugee!"
"Then come in!"
As she passed through the verification passage, her ticket info transmitted to the staff terminal. "Confirmed as a traveler."
The patrol lowered their weapons.
Once inside, the staff exclaimed, "You’re Lyra, from NMA!"
Panic in the air eased slightly, and many travelers lifted their heads, eyes filled with curiosity and excitement, as if they were seeing a celebrity.
She nodded gently and found a quiet corner to stand in.
The sudden "attack" lasted less than ten minutes before news reports rolled in with explanations. "According to sources, a Master Peculiar conflict erupted near the spaceport as the Legion Skywalkers pursued a fugitive. The fugitive has been captured, order has been restored, and injured civilians are receiving medical treatment. Currently, there are no reported fatalities..."
As Lyra prepared to board the ship, she quietly watched the screen showing Ansel being interviewed. He appeared righteous, offering apologies for the disruption to the public.
"Wait for me to come back," she whispered to herself.
Chapter 157: A Gut Feeling
Lyra picked a quiet little cabin for herself, one with a small bathroom that even had its own shower—a rare chance to steal some solitude.
Stripping off her clothes, she revealed the damage from earlier: her skin was scorched, blackened from the electric shock she’d endured.
Slowly, she let her superpower flow through her, healing the wounds as the burnt patches peeled off, replaced by fresh, pink skin underneath.
Suddenly, her Crystal Core throbbed, sending a wave of power surging through her body. It made her shake, her limbs trembling from the sheer force of it.
Quickly, she forced the energy back down, keeping her power in check.
’Not yet,’ she reminded herself. ’I can’t risk losing control until the Soul Spike is gone.’
After slipping into a robe, she stepped out of the bathroom just as her opticomputer chimed.
The screen blinked on, revealing Cohen’s face—handsome as always, though his expression was hard to read.
"You’ve got some unreal luck, you know that?" he remarked. His tone was somewhere between surprise and something more... skeptical.
Lyra didn’t answer right away. She poured herself a glass of water and took a slow sip, letting the silence hang before she responded.
"What, were you hoping I’d die?" Her voice was calm, but her words cut sharp.
Cohen blinked, clearly not expecting that. Sure, he didn’t agree with her methods, but to say he wished her dead? Nah. In fact, he had even pulled strings with his father to get help for her—a move way out of character for him.
With a shrug, Cohen shook his head. "No, not exactly." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "But you didn’t really think the admiral just happened to rescue you by accident, did you?"
Lyra’s eyebrow arched. That explained a lot. Why would an admiral go out of his way for someone like her, unless there was more going on?
"I guess I owe you big time then," she said, her voice more serious now, feeling the weight of the favor.
"Don’t worry," Cohen replied, his grin growing a little darker, almost mischievous. "I’ve already got a pretty good idea of how you can pay me back."
A strange, uneasy feeling crawled up her spine, her brow furrowing. Whatever he had planned, she wasn’t going to like it.
Her eyes flicked to the background of his call, noticing the familiar setting of a military ship. "Are you back on a warship? Heading to Planet Nagano?"
"I’ve got some business there," he answered, cryptic as ever.
Lyra didn’t press for details. Whatever Cohen was up to, she didn’t care enough to pry. They weren’t exactly close.
It wasn’t until her feet hit the ground on Planet Nagano that she figured out why Cohen had come back. The news was already plastered across every screen in the spaceport.
"At nine o’clock today, on Planet Nagano, the admiral’s son, Cohen, will receive his official promotion. Among his peers, no one’s rise has been faster. His accomplishments have been nothing short of extraordinary..."
As she walked out of the spaceport, Lyra caught snippets of the broadcast before a sudden scream pulled her attention.
"Lyra! Oh my gosh, it’s really you!" A girl with tanned skin, looking a shade darker after vacation, came barreling towards her—Zinnia. She wrapped Lyra up in a massive bear hug that nearly knocked her off balance.
Zinnia pulled back, eyes wide as she looked Lyra over. "When did you get so tall?" she asked, clearly surprised. At over 1.75 meters now, Lyra definitely had a few more inches on her since they last met.
Mandy chimed in, a touch of envy in her voice. "Must be a late growth spurt or something."
Lyra immediately pieced together how Zinnia knew her exact arrival time. She wasn’t mad though—this was just Zinnia being Zinnia.
"Come on, let’s get back to the dorms!" Zinnia said, practically dragging her along. "Oh my gosh, Lyra, your performance at AMAT was insane!"
She only mentioned the AMAT competition, smartly avoiding any talk of Lyra’s business ventures or family drama, knowing that was a sensitive subject.
Zinnia’s excitement was infectious, her energy bouncing off everyone around them. "You have no idea how proud we are! People used to call us the NMA losers, but now, thanks to you, we’ve completely shut them up! You’ve become a legend back at school, and folks here on Planet Nagano are buzzing about you too!"
As if to prove her point, reporters had already started gathering outside the spaceport. The moment they spotted Lyra, they rushed forward, eager for an interview.
Clearly, someone had tipped them off about her arrival from Elden Prime, and they were ready to pounce.
Zinnia stood tall, like an immovable fortress, stepping in front of Lyra and shielding her from the encroaching crowd. "Back off, folks! Give us some room here—Lyra’s not up for interviews right now," she declared, her voice firm and unyielding.
"Yeah, sorry, but our girl isn’t doing any press today," Mandy chimed in, sliding to block the reporters coming from the left side.
But the reporters, like a pack of hungry wolves sensing fresh prey, shoved their cameras and microphones past the two girls, zeroing in on Lyra.
"Miss Shedd, how do you feel after your AMAT victory?"
"Is Aesculapius’ Grace going to be available on Planet Nagano? Are you involved in its distribution?"
"Are you planning to drop out of school to chase business ventures?"
"There’s a rumor you’re estranged from your family. Is there any truth to that?"
The barrage of questions hit like a tidal wave, relentless and overwhelming.
Lyra’s brow furrowed, irritation flickering in her eyes. But before she could speak, Zinnia snapped.
"Enough!" she roared, fury bursting out of her in a wave of golden energy that sent the reporters stumbling back. "She just got off the damn ship and hasn’t even had time to breathe! What the hell is wrong with you people?"
The reporters, now on the defensive, immediately turned their cameras toward Zinnia. "What’s your deal?" one of them barked, eyes narrowing. "You’re a cadet, right? Shouldn’t you act with some decorum? Or do you want us to expose your attitude problem?"
Sensing the situation spiraling, Mandy grabbed Zinnia’s arm, whispering anxiously, "Zinnia, chill! You’re gonna make things worse. We don’t need trouble for our school, okay?"
Mandy knew all too well how quickly a bad reputation could ruin their future in the military, and one outburst could be used against them.
At that moment, Lyra stepped forward, her icy calm radiating authority. The reporters, thinking they’d finally gotten through to her, eagerly closed in—only to freeze when she shot them a cold, piercing glare.
"Listen," Lyra said, her voice calm but firm, "I’m really tired right now." She reached for one of the cameras pointed aggressively at Zinnia.
The reporter hesitated, but the intensity in Lyra’s gaze made him back down. With a quick movement, she erased the footage before handing the camera back.
"I understand you need your story since I represented NMA at the competition," she continued, her tone professional yet resolute. "So here’s the deal: I’ll have my office arrange a press conference in a few days. You’re all welcome to come then."
She gave them a small, controlled smile. "My friends were only looking out for me, so let’s not twist their actions in your reports, alright?"
The tension in the air deflated. The reporters, relieved that they’d at least be getting their interview later, accepted the delay. Better to wait than risk losing access to her altogether.
Just then, the screech of a Lev pulling up to the curb caught everyone’s attention.
The window rolled down, and Thierry’s grinning face appeared. "Yo! Get in! Let’s roll!" he shouted.
Without hesitation, Lyra, Zinnia, and Mandy jumped into the vehicle, speeding off before the reporters could even react.
As they zipped through the streets, Zinnia crossed her arms, fuming. "Thierry, you really took your time! I was this close to losing it on those vultures. Can you believe how rude they were?"
Thierry laughed, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. "Hey, cut me some slack! I had to sit through Cohen’s promotion ceremony. As soon as that wrapped up, I raced over here to save you guys."
His eyes flicked to Lyra, who was sitting quietly in the back, her expression unreadable. "Speaking of Cohen," he added with a smirk, "I think Cohen wants to see you, Lyra. I’ll drop you off at the principal’s office—he should be meeting you there."
Lyra’s unease only grew stronger. She knew Thierry too well—his easygoing attitude hid a sharp, calculating mind. If Cohen wanted to see her, it couldn’t be anything good.
"I’m exhausted," she muttered, leaning back against the seat, hoping to avoid whatever Cohen had planned.
Thierry’s grin widened. "He said he’s got something special for you."
Lyra’s stomach twitched. That didn’t sound comforting.
With no other option, Lyra and her friends reluctantly followed Thierry into the principal’s office, her nerves on edge as they waited for Cohen to arrive.
Something was definitely off, and she couldn’t shake the bad feeling creeping over her.
As soon as Lyra stepped into the office, the principal greeted her with the warmth of a doting grandparent.
"Ah, Lyra, there you are! I’ve been eagerly waiting for your return. You must’ve been through quite an ordeal during the competition," he said, his smile wide and welcoming, almost too friendly.
He settled into a plush couch, gesturing for the others, who were hovering near the door, to come in. "Come on now, don’t just stand there like strangers. Take a seat, all of you!"
Zinnia and the rest exchanged hesitant glances, but the principal’s insistence left them little choice.
Awkwardly, they perched on the edge of the couch, clearly out of their element in the formal setting.
Moments later, the principal’s secretary arrived with a tray of tea.
Instinctively, everyone stood, unsure of the etiquette in such a situation, accepting the cups with polite nods.
Noticing their unease, the principal let out a hearty chuckle. "Relax! There’s no need to be so tense. Look at Lyra—calm as ever. You all should take a page out of her book." He gave them a good-natured scolding, his eyes twinkling.
Lyra, though seemingly at ease, sipped her tea slowly, keeping her thoughts to herself. She threw a quick glance at the principal, trying to gauge his sudden surge of warmth.
Something about his overly kind demeanor put her on edge. ’Way too friendly,’ she thought, her instincts on high alert. ’He’s definitely after something.’
Chapter 158: Official Rank Bestowal
Out of respect for the principal, Lyra refrained from directly asking what he was after, though she could already guess his motives.
Moments later, a knock echoed from the door.
The secretary, barely able to contain her excitement, quickly opened it. "Lieutenant Commander Whyte... Oh, wait—no, Commander Whyte has arrived!" she corrected herself with a grin.
Lyra’s gaze naturally drifted to Cohen’s shoulder, taking in the new insignia that marked his promotion.
She remained composed, though the timing didn’t surprise her.
It all made sense. New star development was essentially a treasure trove, and Cohen had skillfully navigated through it, seizing every opportunity.
His recent feats—quelling the level-eight beast riots and fending off the Seething Fires, even capturing their leader—had cemented his reputation. Those accomplishments alone were enough to propel him upward.
And knowing Cohen, Lyra figured he had probably handed over most of the spoils to the military, gaining even more favor in their eyes.
"Sir," Cohen greeted the principle. He was still in his pristine white military uniform. His gold-trimmed chains and the red ceremonial sash across his chest made him look even more distinguished, like a polished piece of platinum.
"Cohen, perfect timing. Lyra has just arrived." The principal, clearly proud of one of his star pupils, gave him a pat on the shoulder before stepping aside.
Cohen, holding a scroll tied with a red ribbon, walked forward with military precision, saluting Lyra.
The other students in the room were still processing the formality of the situation as Lyra, one brow raised, stood and returned the salute.
"By the authority of the military, I am here to bestow a new rank upon Lyra Shedd," Cohen began, his voice steady and authoritative.
His movements were precise as he offered her the scroll with both hands, his expression serious. "For her bravery during AMAT, where she uncovered and resisted the Empire’s spies, and for her decisive actions, the High Court of the military has officially promoted Lyra Shedd to the rank of Student Officer."
This was no ceremonial title; it was a real, earned rank.
Thierry, Zinnia, and Mandy exchanged wide-eyed glances as the room broke into applause.
"Lyra, that’s incredible!" Zinnia practically bounced in her seat, and Mandy nodded, her face glowing with pride.
Lyra, though surprised at first, quickly adjusted. She had assumed the military would try to sweep everything under the rug to avoid stirring up any scandals, but instead, they had chosen to reward her publicly.
She accepted the scroll and raised her hand to return the salute.
"I swear, in the name of the military, to dedicate my life to the Alliance and her people," she recited.
Cohen, having heard that oath countless times in his career, found himself oddly moved hearing it from her. It seemed to carry more weight coming from her lips, as if the words meant something deeper.
Since Lyra wasn’t part of any specific regiment, she would be issued a standard uniform. The principal made a note to have her visit logistics for measurements.
Once the brief ceremony concluded, Cohen addressed her again. "Given that you’re still a student, we decided not to hold a public ceremony for your promotion. I hope you understand."
Whether it was out of genuine concern for her privacy or to save the military any potential embarrassment, Lyra wasn’t too bothered by the reasoning. She nodded in acknowledgment, not particularly caring about the fanfare.
The principal, beaming with pride, offered a few final words of encouragement before adding, "You young people probably have a lot to catch up on. Feel free to chat among yourselves. Lyra, we’ll talk more another time."
There was a subtle undertone in his words, one Lyra picked up on immediately, but she chose not to comment. Instead, she gathered her things and left the office with her friends.
The principal let out a quiet sigh once they were gone. ’This young woman is as mysterious as ever.’
Outside, a large crowd had gathered, a mix of students and admirers.
Although they tried to maintain a cool, nonchalant demeanor, their excitement was palpable in the way their eyes sparkled with curiosity and awe.
Word had clearly gotten out about Cohen’s visit, and now, a small swarm of fans was trailing after him.
Cohen glanced at the crowd, then at Lyra, with a weary expression. "This isn’t really the best place for a conversation. How about we head off-campus? There’s a quiet café nearby where we can talk."
Lyra, noting the increasing attention from bystanders, nodded in agreement. She didn’t like crowds, and this growing spectacle wasn’t helping her mood.
"You two go ahead and talk, I’ll head out first," Thierry said, sensing it was time to make his exit.
Zinnia and Mandy wasted no time following suit. "Catch you later, Lyra! We’ll be in the dorm waiting for you," Zinnia called, giving a quick wave before the three disappeared, leaving Lyra and Cohen alone in the growing quiet.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there, locked in a silent standoff.
Lyra narrowed her eyes, studying him intently. "What do you want?" she asked bluntly.
Cohen wasn’t the type to seek her out without a reason. The official business of the rank bestowal was over, so whatever this was, it had to be personal.
Cohen’s expression didn’t change. "It’s about the aftermath of the Seething Fires incident."
Lyra crossed her arms, unimpressed. "I don’t remember there being any loose ends."
"You’ll find out soon enough," Cohen replied, his tone measured as he started walking toward a Lev parked by the curb.
Inside the vehicle, Kogar sat in the driver’s seat, laughing and chatting on a comm call. When he spotted them, he waved at Lyra before ending the call.
Cohen gestured to the Lev. "We’ll talk in here."
Something about the whole situation felt off, and Lyra hesitated for a moment before opening the door.
Sitting in the back seat was a young boy, sulking with his arms crossed. But the second he saw Lyra, his face lit up in a huge grin. "Lyra!" he shouted, his eyes shining with happiness.
’Bang.’ The car door shut behind her, and Lyra whipped around to face Cohen, her voice turning cold as ice. "Don’t tell me THIS is the ’aftermath.’"
Unfazed by her sharp tone, Cohen remained as calm as ever. "This boy’s background has been fully investigated. He’s from an orphanage in the Empire. The Seething Fires kidnapped him because of his unique superpower."
Cohen continued his explanation, standing just outside the car. "He’s endured a lot of trauma—being trafficked, abused. Normally, he would be sent to a welfare center or placed in foster care, but he’s refused to go. He’s ten years old now, and by law, his wishes are considered in adoption cases."
The situation was clear now, but it didn’t sit well with Lyra. She shot Cohen a cold glare. "And what does any of this have to do with me?"
The boy’s preferences didn’t mean they could just dump him on her. Legal adoption wasn’t that simple, and there had to be someone actually willing to take him on.
"It doesn’t concern you, not directly," Cohen admitted, as if he’d expected her response. "But the boy refuses to go anywhere else. He wants to follow you."
For the first time, a flicker of frustration passed across Cohen’s face. He rubbed his temple as if this had been a long and annoying ordeal. "You have no idea how much trouble he’s been."
Apparently, enough trouble for Cohen to personally escort him here.
Cohen turned to the boy—Phelixes—who was now peering out the window, his eyes wide and hopeful.
"As you can see," Cohen said to him, "she doesn’t want to adopt you, so you’ll have to go to the welfare center."
The boy’s face crumpled in an instant. He shoved open the car door and sprinted over to Lyra, grabbing at her clothes desperately.
"I won’t eat much! I can even work in your factory to earn money. Please let me stay with you!" His large black eyes filled with tears, and his lips trembled as he looked up at her, a pitiful sight with his reddening nose and fragile, doll-like features.
But Lyra wasn’t moved.
"What exactly do you bring to the table?" she asked, her voice cold and detached. "If I take legal guardianship, I’ll be responsible for everything—your food, your education, your clothes. And if you ever get upset with me, you could easily sue. So, tell me, why would I take on that kind of burden?"
She pried his small hand off her sleeve without a second thought, her indifference sharp and unforgiving. "You’re just a kid. Not worth the hassle," she added, throwing a disdainful glance at Cohen before turning to leave.
Phelixes stood frozen, his small frame shaking as tears streamed down his face. He bit his lip, trying to stifle his sobs, but his quiet, heart-wrenching cries filled the air as he watched her walk away.
Cohen let out a sigh of relief, watching Lyra disappear from view.
"Satisfied now?" he asked, casting a glance at Phelixes, who was still sniffling and wiping away tears.
Cohen had never truly expected Lyra to take the boy in. She had distanced herself from her own family—her blood. Why would she go out of her way for a child she didn’t know?
From the start, Cohen knew placing Phelixes with her wasn’t a realistic option. Lyra wasn’t the type to offer the nurturing or stability the boy needed.
She was too self-reliant, too focused on her own path, and dragging a child along would only complicate things for both of them.
Climbing back into the Lev, Cohen glanced at the boy, still red-eyed from crying but now sitting in silence. He didn’t say anything, simply exhaled another tired sigh.
Cohen wasn’t one to waste time or energy on things beyond his control, and this situation was no different.
Breaking the lingering quiet, Kogar shifted the conversation, his tone casual but thoughtful. "Miss Shedd may have been flying under the radar for a while, but her momentum... is very strong this time."
Cohen’s expression darkened slightly, his thoughts turning more complex. "If she hadn’t left the Shedd family... or if she still had the power of freezing... maybe things would’ve turned out differently," he muttered, almost to himself.
Though he rarely indulged in "what-ifs," the thought crossed his mind now and then.
There was no denying the raw potential she had once held, and sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder how things could have unfolded if she hadn’t walked away from it all.
But Cohen quickly shoved that trace of regret aside. He knew better than anyone that speculation changed nothing. Life had moved on, and so had she.
Chapter 159: Adoption
Lyra didn’t give the adoption a second thought; it barely made a dent in her focus.
With just two days left before the beginning of her sophomore year, she had already tasked Debbie with scheduling an interview.
Lyra was all set to slide into a peaceful school year.
Well, that was the plan. But you know how life is—trouble always finds a way to crash the party.
Just before noon, the day before the new semester started, Lyra’s phone buzzed. It was Cohen, and from the tone in his voice, he wasn’t calling to chat about weekend plans. "Hey, has Phelixes shown up at your place?"
Despite the urgency dripping from his words, Lyra remained as unbothered as ever. "No," she answered, her tone cold and distant.
Before Cohen could explain further, she cut in, sharper this time. "If he’s gone missing, what’s that got to do with me?"
Without waiting for his response, she hung up.
On the other end of the line, Cohen sighed heavily. He stooding on his hoverboard with a troubled expression.
"Miss Shedd is as... straightforward as always," Kogar noted with a subtle nod.
"It’s none of her concern, really," Cohen replied, still baffled by her ice-cold attitude despite having seen it countless times.
Meanwhile, Lyra polished off the last bite of her meal. She was just about to head over to the combat room when the sharp sound of the school’s alarm tore through the air, loud and shrill.
Seconds later, the intercom blared out an emergency announcement: "Attention! An unidentified individual has breached the campus! Please find the nearest shelter and remain on high alert!"
Zinnia, blinking in confusion, looked around. "Wait, what? Who would invade the school?"
Mandy quickly yanked her back into the cafeteria. "Doesn’t matter who it is. We need to hide first."
Military-trained students snapped into action. Within moments, the campus, which had been buzzing with activity, went eerily quiet.
Patrol robots whizzed by, while squads of security personnel fanned out.
Surveillance drones zipped overhead, scanning for the intruder.
Inside the cafeteria, eyes were glued to the massive screen showing drone footage of the search. Soon enough, the cameras locked onto the intruder.
What everyone saw left them speechless—a kid?!
The boy stumbled around like a confused, lost puppy, eyes wide, darting about in panic. Security guards zipped by on their hoverboards, shouting through their megaphones, "Kid, stop! We’ll escort you out of here safely!"
What had started as a full-scale security breach quickly turned into a chaotic attempt to capture a terrified child.
But Phelixes, as jumpy as a cat cornered by dogs, only ran faster, as if he was running from something much scarier than them.
The guards exchanged bewildered glances. They formed a wide circle around him, trying to corner the boy.
One guard, with a Hydrokinesis superpower, created a lasso made of water, ready to ensnare the frantic kid.
"Don’t!" the boy screamed, flailing his arms like a tornado of limbs.
What happened next stunned everyone. With just a flick of his tiny hand, the water lasso disintegrated into mist.
"Did anyone else just see that?" gasped someone from the cafeteria.
Zinnia scratched her head, musing aloud, "Wait, does this kid have some kind of unique power? Hey, Lyra, what do you think—" She paused mid-sentence, realizing Lyra had slipped away.
Back outside, the security team threw everything they had at the kid, but nothing worked.
After multiple failed attempts, they decided to ditch the powers and try grabbing him by hand.
But the boy, scared out of his mind, darted around even more frantically, cutting himself on tree branches and scuffing his knees.
The guards, unsure of how to proceed without causing injury, were exasperated.
"Kid, if you keep running like this, you’re going to get hurt! Just stop!" one of them called out.
Amidst the chaos, a calm yet firm voice suddenly cut through the noise.
"Stop."
Instantly, the security team froze in their tracks as the wild child came to a halt, his tear-streaked face trembling.
Without a second thought, he ran toward the speaker, sobbing loudly.
"Lyra!"
To say everyone was confused would be the understatement of the century.
The head of the security team approached Lyra cautiously, rubbing his head in confusion. "Uh, you’re Lyra, right? Is this kid... your brother?"
He couldn’t help asking—the kid’s hair and skin tone matched Lyra’s almost perfectly.
"How could you let him run loose like that? He forced his way through the ID verification gate! Do you even realize the chaos he caused? Hurry up and get him out of here."
The security captain struggled to keep his cool, but it was clear that if Lyra wasn’t such a high-profile student bringing honor to the academy, he’d be shouting at full volume by now.
At the mention of "get him out of here," Phelixes latched onto Lyra’s waist like his life depended on it.
"I don’t want to leave! I wanna stay with Lyra. Please, don’t abandon me!" His voice wobbled, filled with desperation, as if Lyra was the only safe place in the world for him.
After she had stepped in to save him earlier, he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone else.
His heartfelt plea didn’t just pull at her; it sent waves through the crowd.
"No way! Did Lyra actually ditch her own brother?"
"That poor kid, though!"
"Get a grip. Lyra’s real brother is Kail, from Elden Prime. He’s 21 this year!"
Lyra glanced down at the boy clinging to her, her expression unreadable. "Are you sure you want to stay with me?" she asked, her tone cool and detached.
Phelixes nodded with so much enthusiasm, it was a wonder his head stayed on.
"Fine." Lyra’s voice was as calm as ever. "We’ll handle the adoption paperwork this afternoon."
Wait, what?
The murmuring crowd only got louder as she casually explained the situation to the security team. They were clearly impressed, nodding along as she walked away, Phelixes trailing behind like a puppy.
By the time Debbie pulled over the Lev, she was practically choking on air. "A-Adoption?!"
Her reaction was pretty justified—Lyra wasn’t exactly known for her charitable side.
"Got a problem with that?" Lyra’s sharp tone made it clear this wasn’t up for debate.
Phelixes, standing beside her, glared at Debbie like a guard dog, ready to defend his newfound "guardian." Debbie, caught off guard, stared back. Before she could even process the situation, Lyra nudged the boy aside.
"From now on, Debbie will take care of all your business. Don’t bother me unless you’ve grown into someone useful."
Phelixes sniffled and nodded, looking up at her with tear-filled eyes. "O-okay..."
Debbie felt a pang of sympathy for the kid. But the moment they stepped out of the car, Phelixes yanked his hand from hers, glaring at her as if she were a villain straight out of a bad fairy tale.
Debbie rolled her eyes. ’Yeah... so much for sympathy.’
When Cohen found out about the adoption, he rushed over, his face a mix of disbelief and frustration. "Do you even know what you’re doing?"
Lyra didn’t miss a beat, flashing a knowing smile. "If you’d told me earlier about his little superpower, we could’ve avoided all that mess."
She knew this kid had potential—a good investment, really.
Cohen gritted his teeth. "I knew it! You’re just going to use him, aren’t you? He trusts you, and this is how you repay him?"
Regret washed over Cohen. Bringing the boy to the academy hadn’t made him forget about Lyra; it had only pushed him right into her arms.
"I’ll raise him, and when he’s older, he’ll work for me. Fair trade," Lyra said, her tone icy and businesslike. Before Cohen could argue further, she added, "Besides, who says he’s unhappy?"
Cohen had no real comeback. He remembered how the boy woke up crying in the middle of the night, desperate to find Lyra again, and the look in his eyes when he’d finally reached her.
Letting out a long sigh, Cohen rubbed his temples. "Raising a kid isn’t something you can take lightly. Make sure you teach him right." After a pause, he added, "And while you meet the financial criteria, the adoption process might be tricky since you’re single. I’ll help smooth it over."
In the end, Phelixes was officially registered as Lyra’s ’younger brother’ in the family records.
Once the paperwork was squared away, Lyra wasted no time handing him off to Debbie.
Phelixes didn’t protest, knowing he’d see her again soon. He followed Debbie obediently, though his wide eyes kept flicking back toward Lyra with hope still written all over them.
Back on campus, the principal dropped by with a special request.
"Any chance you could help us secure an Aesculapius’ Grace unit?" he asked, attempting to sound casual, though the eagerness in his voice was hard to miss.
Lyra gave him a level stare. "At the pace the Alliance is moving, Planet Nagano should be fully equipped soon enough." She paused, adding coolly, "But as of now, I don’t have any extra stock available."
Chapter 160: Businesswoman
The principal, a plump man with a calculating gaze, gave Lyra a look that suggested he could see right through her. "My nephew’s child desperately needs life-saving treatment, but she refuses to stay in the hospital. That’s why we need one of those units," he said, his voice urgent, but not enough to sway Lyra.
She didn’t flinch. "Then it’s even less necessary. The first-generation Aesculapius’ Grace can only slow the symptoms. The treatment takes an exceptionally long time," she responded, her tone cold as ever.
The truth was, while Aesculapius’ Grace could stave off death, it didn’t cure—only delayed.
The device was originally designed to help Lyra bypass the limitations of her own superpower, but saving the masses was never her ambition.
Besides, she held another crucial piece in her hand: The Mendez.
Jorathon, a key figure in The Mendez, was one of those desperately seeking healing through the device. However, if he ever got fully cured, Lyra knew he’d come for her without hesitation.
And with no updates or improvements on Aesculapius’ Grace coming for years, she wasn’t exactly worried about him making a move anytime soon.
The Mendez had initially believed they could break free of her control once they got their hands on the device. But when treatment began, they quickly realized it wasn’t enough.
Without constant access to the machine, the results were temporary at best. So in the end, they were still bound to Lyra, relying on her superpower if they truly wanted a shot at survival.
Seeing Lyra’s lack of empathy, the principal’s face twisted slightly, his voice growing sour. "I thought this would be a small matter for someone like you."
Lyra didn’t even blink. "It’s just as small a matter for you, Principal. If you’re that desperate, Planet Nagano’s medical department should be more than happy to provide one for you."
The man stood there for a moment, his thick lips pressed into a tight line before he sighed heavily. "It’s not about taking advantage of you. The issue is that the second batch of Aesculapius’ Grace from the Alliance has hit some roadblocks, and the child doesn’t have time to wait. That’s why I came to you."
Lyra’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "The second batch? There’s been a problem? What kind of problem?" This piqued her curiosity. If there was an issue with the device, it likely had something to do with her.
The principal sighed again, clearly frustrated. "I don’t know all the details, but it sounds like production has stalled. There’s some sort of bottleneck, and they haven’t made much progress."
As someone who had been around for a long time and had plenty of connections, he always managed to pick up on the whispers circulating about major projects.
Even with this vague information, Lyra knew something was up. "I’ll have a unit delivered to you this afternoon. Make sure you accept it personally," she said coolly, ending the conversation on her terms.
The principal couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself. "You sly girl," he muttered. Lyra never did anything unless there was something in it for her.
Leaving the principal’s office, Lyra’s mood darkened. She immediately dialed Morrison, who was stationed on Elden Prime.
"Boss," Morrison’s voice came through, along with the sound of frantic typing in the background. It was clear he was deep in the middle of something.
"The second batch of Aesculapius’ Grace is already in production. Did you know about this?" Lyra’s voice was ice, each word slicing through the line.
Morrison stopped what he was doing, blinking in surprise. "I hadn’t heard anything about it," he admitted, quickly putting the pieces together.
If production had started, yet there hadn’t been any orders for the essential "core" components—those that only Lyra’s team produced—then someone was trying to cut them out of the loop.
That someone, of course, being Caspian, the one overseeing the production.
After the initial shock, Morrison let out a bitter laugh. "So, do we pull back on our production of the cores?"
Lyra didn’t hesitate. "No. Increase the quantity, raise the price, and widen our sales channels."
"Got it."
As soon as the call ended, Lyra found herself thinking about Caspian. She recalled the earnest look he’d worn when they first struck the deal, and she couldn’t help smirking.
It seemed the second she left Elden Prime, he’d shown his true colors as a businessman.
’Does he really think I’m naive enough to let him wrest control of the core technology?’ Lyra sneered.
If Caspian was bold enough to try and take full control of Aesculapius’ Grace, Lyra wasn’t losing any sleep. No one could replicate her technique, and she was confident that when Caspian’s plan blew up in his face, his reaction would be priceless.
...
On Elden Prime, deep within a cutting-edge lab, Caspian stood stone-faced, his usual charm replaced by simmering fury. His eyes, sharp as blades, swept over the room like a storm ready to break.
"This is what you call a substitute for the ’core’? What am I supposed to do with treatment units stuck in production? Who’s taking responsibility for this mess?" His voice sliced through the tension, sending a chill down the spines of everyone present.
The team of researchers shrank under his gaze, none daring to meet his eyes.
Finally, the head of the lab mustered the courage to step forward, though his voice wavered with fear. "Technically, we’ve replicated the structure exactly, one-to-one. But for unknown reasons, it’s incompatible with the Aesculapius’ Grace. There must be some unknown technique they’re using that we haven’t figured out."
Two "unknowns" were enough to send Caspian over the edge. His voice dropped, venomous. "So, you’re telling me you don’t know, and now you’re asking ME for answers?"
The head researcher immediately clammed up, and the whole team stood frozen like statues, knowing Caspian’s wrath wasn’t entirely aimed at them. It was his own frustration—his attempt to break free from Lyra’s grip had crashed spectacularly.
He had sunk fortunes into trying to reverse-engineer the ’core’ technology, and here he was, stuck in the same bind.
With a derisive snort, Caspian turned on his heel and stormed out of the lab.
As he marched down the hallway, his secretary hurried to catch up. "Sir, should I contact the factory that supplies the ’core’?"
Caspian clenched his jaw, barely containing his frustration. After a tense moment, he nodded. "Do it."
The silence surrounding the second batch’s issues was a small blessing—word hadn’t leaked yet. But if Lyra caught wind that he’d tried to undermine her, she’d come down on him like a hammer.
Unfortunately, his relief was short-lived.
His secretary burst into his office not long after, her face ashen. "Sir, the supplier says the ’core’ is temporarily out of stock. You’ll have to wait for the next batch." She hesitated, dreading the next part. "Also... they’ve raised the price by five percent."
Caspian, a businessman who had weathered nearly thirty years in the game, sat there in silence, his fingers drumming the desk in a steady rhythm.
His mind was racing, calculating his next move. "What game is that woman playing?" He reached for his comms device. "Get me the head of their Elden Prime operations."
It wasn’t long before Morrison’s composed voice came through. "Hello, Mr. East. This is Morrison."
Caspian spun the lighter on his desk absentmindedly, his voice smooth but laced with danger. "Mr. Morrison, care to explain what’s going on?"
Morrison, cool as ever and reviewing incoming orders, smirked slightly. He’d been expecting this. "I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Mr. East."
Caspian’s voice lowered, his frustration barely concealed. "Why has the price of the ’core’ increased? And didn’t we agree to reserve stock for Aesculapius’ Graces?"
Morrison almost laughed at Caspian’s indignation—it reminded him of husbands who’d ignored their wives for years, only to be outraged when she stopped catering to him.
"Well, the ’core’ has been quite the success since it hit the market, and production costs on Elden Prime are through the roof. The price increase is just business," Morrison said nonchalantly. "And as for reserved stock, you never placed an order. We can’t hold inventory forever without a contract, can we?"
Caspian sat there, teeth clenched, knowing Morrison was right. In the ruthless world of business, unsold stock was a liability, and Morrison was making it clear that Caspian had no leg to stand on.
Swallowing his pride, Caspian leaned on his last bit of leverage. "Fine. When can I get the shipment?"
Morrison’s tone remained professional, but there was a subtle edge to it. "Let me check... Hmm. Looks like the earliest we can ship is next month."
"What?" Caspian’s shout reverberated through his office, echoing off the walls in disbelief.