As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra

Chapter 428: Perfection

Vivian leaned forward slightly, her exhaustion forgotten.

"I thought the healer’s skill made those protective spheres attached to you somehow... That you were just transporting them while she maintained the actual control."

’The Verratoux Imperial Family excels at mind-related skills.’

The thought cut through Damian’s awareness.

’She understands better than anyone here how impossible what I did should be.’

Emmanuel Langsten spoke up next, his voice carrying confusion mixed with lingering fear.

"How were you able to kill Jonathan Thorne?"

His hands were clenched on the table in front of him, knuckles showing white.

"Especially since he turned out to have a contract with demons as well. The power boost from demonic transformation should have put him far beyond your capabilities."

He paused, swallowing hard.

"I’m still shocked about the entire demon situation, but setting that aside for the moment... How?"

Damian’s voice came out steady, offering explanation without elaboration.

"I have a bond with my raven Kuro. We can merge temporarily and I receive physical enhancements from the fusion." His hand gestured slightly. "Combined with my weapon art, it was enough to match him long enough to land the killing strike."

Nathan’s deep voice rumbled across the table, his eyes showing fascination.

"Man, I have never heard about any human being able to form some kind of bond with those beasts... Not to mention, merging with them." His massive arms crossed over his chest. "But all the witnesses we interviewed confirmed seeing you with black wings, claws and the whole transformation. Can’t argue with that many consistent accounts."

His head shook slowly.

"Where the hell did you even learn to do something like that?"

Damian said nothing, his expression remaining neutral.

Everyone’s eyes tracked across his face, studying him like he was some kind of alien specimen that had wandered into their meeting.

Mystery wrapped in more mystery, a sixteen-year-old student who kept producing impossible feats like they were normal.

’B+ rank lifting thousands of people simultaneously using Telekinesis.’

’Bonding with a beast in a way nobody’s ever documented.’

’Killing a demon-contracted A+ rank awakener in single combat.’

The Governor’s filtered voice cut through the stares and speculation.

"Your master is the Headmaster, correct?" He studied Damian with new intensity. "The weapon art you used, was it Abyssal Slaughter?"

Damian nodded once, confirming what the Governor had already guessed.

"To what level of mastery have you gotten it to?" The question came out carefully measured, like the answer mattered more than casual curiosity.

Damian’s voice remained flat and factual.

"Perfection."

"..."

Absolute silence crashed through the room like a physical thing.

Screech

Emmanuel’s chair scraped violently backward as he jerked upright.

Clatter

Richard’s tablet slipped from his hands, hitting the table with a sharp crack.

Nathan’s breath came out in a sharp hiss between his teeth, his massive frame going rigid.

Vivian’s fingers dug into the armrest of her chair, knuckles going white.

’Did he just say... Perfection?’

Salazar’s eyes had gone wide, his mouth opening slightly before closing again.

The Governor’s masked head tilted fractionally, his entire body going still for three full heartbeats.

When he spoke, his filtered voice came out controlled but strained at the edges.

"The Headmaster created Abyssal Slaughter decades ago."

Each word came out measured and deliberate.

"He has taken on disciples throughout the years... though most never lived long enough to master even the basics."

The Governor’s gloved hands pressed flat against the table.

"Some of the strongest warriors in Federation history have studied under him."

His masked face turned toward where Gregor sat, then back to Damian.

"Not one of them... not a single one... has ever reached Perfection in that art. And you’re telling me you achieved it at such a young age?"

But Damian’s face remained completely neutral, no trace of boasting or exaggeration, just calm acceptance of fact.

The Governor stared at him for a long moment, then he sank back into his chair slowly, his gloved hand coming up to rest against his mask.

"That explains it then." His filtered voice came out quieter. "How you managed to kill a demon-contracted awakener."

Silence filled the room again, broken only by Gregor’s voice, bringing attention to something that had been pushed aside.

"What about Ashley Blackheart and Admond Ashford?"

His grey eyes found the Governor’s masked face.

"They were involved as well. They fought Yara after Vermont’s sacrifice, then escaped before the blackout ended."

Before anyone could respond–

BANG

The door slammed open hard enough to crack against the wall.

Two figures strode in, their presence commanding immediate attention.

One was a woman with rough, wild hair that looked like it had never seen a brush, her face hard and sharp, wearing the black uniform of the SFD with sleeves rolled up to reveal arms covered in scars. Her eyes blazed with something fierce.

The other was a stern old man, his grey hair cropped military-short, his face carved from hard angles and discipline, his posture rigid with decades of service. His expression showed no emotion at all.

Both wore insignias marking them as high-ranking SFD officers, probably just below the Director himself.

And bound behind them in glowing Aura locks that crackled with energy, being dragged forward like cargo, were–

’Ashley and Admond...’

Damian’s breath caught for a fraction of a second.

’I’d almost forgotten about them in everything that happened...’

Both were unconscious, their faces showing damage even through the healing that had been applied, clothes torn and stained with blood that looked dried and crusted.

The stern old man’s voice came out clipped and professional.

"Governor, here are the culprits. We captured them as per your orders during their attempted escape."

He thrust both Ashley and Admond forward as their bodies hit the stone floor with heavy thuds.

"Although..." The old man’s jaw tightened. "I think with Admond Ashford being from the Ashford Imperial Family, it would be better to leave this matter to them for internal handling."

The wild woman’s voice cut across his words like a blade.

"Bullshit! Let’s torture the bastard until he coughs out everything he knows about the Shadow Council!" Her hand gestured violently toward Admond’s unconscious form. "So what if he is a damn noble? He’s a traitor who participated in an attack that killed thousands of Federation citizens!"

Damian’s eyes shifted to her face.

’At least someone in the SFD has some sense...’

Every noble in the room went still, their faces showing varying degrees of offense.

Richard’s jaw tightened, Vivian’s eyes narrowed, Emmanuel’s expression darkened considerably and even Salazar shifted slightly, though his reaction was more controlled.

The stern old man’s voice came out sharp and warning.

"Be mindful with your words, Officer Cleo." His eyes found hers. "And the culprit has already mentioned during preliminary interrogation that they had no clue about the Shadow Council’s involvement with demons. They believed they were joining a human organization seeking to reform Federation politics."

Cleo’s face twisted with contempt.

"So? Isn’t just being part of the Shadow Council already a crime regardless of anything?" Her eyes locked onto Hank’s face. "Are you also part of them, Officer Hank? Maybe that’s why you’re being so defensive of him."

’She’s not wrong to question him...’

Damian’s eyes tracked between them, watching the dynamic shift.

’How many others in the SFD are secretly Shadow Council members? Ashley wasn’t the only one...’