[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

Chapter 439: Secret Compartments

Sarah, still pressed against Ciel’s back, made a small distressed noise. "Prepare ourselves? How?"

Colonel Vane stepped in behind Julius. He was carrying his set of weapons and guns at hand.

He didn’t dare leave the explanation to Julius. But he also thinks that it was better not to explain anything at all and fix it as quickly as possible.

"Switch?" Colonel Vane offered casually. "I can take a turn out there, and you guard in here. You’ve been on the line a while, you’re probably tired now."

"Nah. Just here for bullets," Julius said nonchalantly as he crossed the sofa Iris and Bryan had been occupying.

Iris’s eyes went wide in confusion, scooting reflexively to one side.

Julius bent down, his fingers slid along the underside of the cushion, looking for something.

Then, a small click was heard, and a panel along the sofa’s base whispered open.

It was a hidden compartment.

Inside it, nestled in molded foam, lay a small but lovingly maintained arsenal.

Three pulse pistols. Two plasma sidearms. Two plasma guns.

Three rows of energy cartridges for three types of guns.

A few folded tactical vests in matte black.

Sarah let out a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a shriek.

"How," she demanded, voice gone shrill, "does a vacation place have that under a sofa?"

Ciel, beside her, didn’t even glance. He was watching Julius’s hands as he checked one of the plasma cartridges.

"Nothing impossible to find in places like this," he said, "Not to mention, this place’s model is part of a very particular kind of vacation property."

"Is that so? Then, how did you even find these compartments?" Sarah pressed. "I mean, how did you know that those things were in there? You guys didn’t even go to poke around in the cushions and stuff. Because surely, those kinds of movements would’ve been noticed by anyone in here—"

Ciel finally turned to look at her like she was dumb for not knowing this information.

"Of course, we wouldn’t check it so openly. Also, you can just tell by the look of the furniture."

Sarah stared at him blankly. "What?"

"The legs."

Ciel explained, exasperatedly pointing at the sofa.

"On a normal sofa from this manufacturer, the legs are higher and tapered. Look at that sofa."

He pointed at another kind of sofa.

"Reinforced base. Wider footprint. The cushion seam doesn’t match the upholstery line on the side panel by about half a centimeter. If anyone trained looks at that would immediately know it’s a concealment piece with a compartment. It’s a textbook estate fitting for any property used by anyone with security clearance."

Sarah’s jaw moved, but no sound came out.

"Same with the armrest on Pete’s chair."

Ciel went on, warming to his subject in spite of himself.

"You can see the panel grain run perpendicular instead of parallel. Same with the bar—the third shelf down has a false back, you can tell by the lighting. Look, Sarah, the lighting throws a slightly different shadow on the bottles that sit too far back."

"When did you check this?!"

"When we walked in," Ciel said, rolling his eyes at her. "Same time you were oohing over the chandelier."

"You did not." Sarah pursed her lips in indignation.

"It takes about three seconds; you just have to know what to look for."

"Ciel, I have been in this property for hours, chattering away with everyone and mostly you, and I did not see you do any of that—"

"Because, I already told you, we don’t need to do it so blatantly," he said, in the tone of someone explaining basic etiquette. "It’s just how we see things, Sarah."

Sarah’s mouth opened, processing the information.

"I still don’t get it," she finally uttered with a blank expression.

Pete, who had been watching this exchange with a small, soft, unmistakable smile, stepped in.

"You don’t need to," he told Sarah gently. "It’s a military thing. It comes with the training."

Sarah brightened, her expression turned immediately to an understanding expression.

"Oh," she said, with relief. "Oh. Okay, that makes sense. I just—okay. That’s a military thing. Got it. I was just wondering why I felt so dumb with all his explanations."

Pete bowed his head in faintly amused solemnity. "Not your fault at all."

Sarah nodded, satisfied. But because she was still annoyed at being treated like an idiot. She turned and whapped Ciel sharply on the back of the head with the flat of her palm.

"Ow—"

"That’s for the eye-roll."

"I barely eye-rolled—"

"You did eye-roll."

"Even if I did, you don’t just hit—"

"Oh, I’ll do worse," Sarah said with a dangerous smile that was clearly up to no good, "if you talk down to me again."

Ciel opened his mouth to argue, but caught Pete watching him. Pete’s smile had not changed. It had just gotten a little colder around the edges.

Ciel’s throat felt like it had just eaten sand. He swallowed his prepared rebuttal in one go.

"Yes, ma’am," he said meekly to Sarah.

Sarah smiled, completely satisfied with Ciel’s submissive expression.

Throughout their back and forth, Julius had finished his preparation.

The vest went over his shirt. Spare cartridges slid into loops. He racked his pistol with a low snick and holstered it. He took a second one and slid it into a back-of-the-hip mount.

Julius looked up and announced.

"Everyone takes one. Pulse guns for general use. If you see a bug bigger than a man, switch to plasma guns; it’s the only thing that could bore a hole through chitin on the high-ranks."

Colonel Vane glanced at Julius. He thought Julius would never mention the existence of the high-ranking zerg to these people at all.

When he swept at a glance at the other people in the living room.

Colonel Vane thought, and it seemed that whether they had stayed in the military, not served the military for long, or had no military history at all, these people here were brave enough to ignore Julius’s mention of a high-ranking zerg. Not that they had a choice to begin with, but let’s just see how it goes.